Life, Etc.

I spent 2 hours at the hospital getting an infusion. My ancient blood needed fixing. Too little iron, too little energy. Luckily, this clinic in the hospital is like a spa. Comfy recliner or bed, warmed blankets, and engaging staff who all seem to be delighted to work there. Daughter came with me.

Not that I've been idle. Between unplanned bouts of sleep, I am editing. Interestingly, the only writer in the anthology who has, seriously, the worst writing, is the one nagging me to get my arse in gear and finish the damn thing. I finally broke and told her her work doesn't demand editing, but a total re-write of all her work. Needless to mention, she was annoyed. I am always truly amazed at how oblivious some are. I farmed out two of her pieces to two other writers as I was slowly losing my mind at the rewrites - painstaking, and also, I was slowly losing my will to live.

I was disappointed in the Oscars. One Battle After Another was a ho-hum thing, characters way underdrawn, more like caricatures, but if you're into lots of bangs and violence without purpose, go for it. Sinners was another flop in my mind. The first 2/3 engaged me, but the last moved into the vampire realm, which has never appealed. Suspending disbelief is never my forte, and I felt that the writers felt rushed and had to finish the whole thing in a hurry. I did like the soundtrack.

My favourite movie last year was "Train Dreams". I'm old-fashioned, perhaps, in my lifelong love of film. But this film hooked me from beginning to end. In all aspects. The cinematography is breathtaking, the acting and script superb.

A couple of pics for Sunday Selections:

The Indoor Garden.

I'm in love with this writer. Truly.

My local beach, 40 shades of blue, sparkling in winter.

Stuffs

A 10 year old photo from where I used to live right on the bay. I love the sky and the reflections of the boats.

I always like the way Andrew says "Stuffs" referring to minor tasks or items and have used it now in family settings. It's far, far better than the singular "stuff". Apologies to so many of you for what Blogger does to your comments. I just went through Blogger Jail and rescued so many of your comments on my blog which were trashed without rhyme nor reason - many of you frequent bloggers. I will try and make an effort to make this part of my routine now - checking the blog comments. 

As to other stuffs, I've been busy writing an article for a magazine based in England. It's about my mother's experience with birthing which was an absolute hell of a torturous experience for her. More on that later.

The other bits of writing is my own memoir of a period in my life where the participants and identifiers are now all passed on so I am free to write about it.

More is editing of a anthology which is hard going. Some of the writing is great, others not so much and requires far too much extensive editing. And this I find exhausting and maddening which is not good for my innards.

I waited and am waiting today for a call from my nephrologist to follow up on recent lab work. Nada. Already an hour has gone by and here I am, trapped, writing the blog, neglecting leaving as I have my own on line lab-work results in front of me and I have a myriad of questions on the line items ticked for "not normal". I imagine elders (and I have anecdotal evidence) are shoved aside in a stretched health care system that focuses on the more viable of its patients.*

I am reading Richard Flanagan, an Australian author I have fallen in love with. His writing is superb.

Question Seven was my introduction

And now I am reading The Narrow Road to the Deep North.

I hope to read all of his oeuvre. At times he is lyrical. 

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*update she did call and apologised for delay. Amongst other stuffs I have to go to hospital for more blood infusions. I've been struggling with exhaustion and putting it down to old age. Relieved it's not that.