February 2010
Well, January was a mild improvement on December, but we were not far from being snowed in, and the water taps became frozen up at my daughter's stable yard, resulting in the need to scrabble around for various empty bottle to fill from home. I had two funerals to attend in one week, my Mum's and my Aunt's, and I have the added delight of being executor for Mum's will. Say no if anyone ever asks you to do the job. Still, I am at least able to walk about again now - although no way was I going anywhere near icy pavements. Hibernation has its good points, I am thinking.
Talking of hibernation. I thought squirrels tucked themselves away for the colder days? Obviously the two in my back garden have not read the right nature manual. Okay, I know they are technically furry rats with tails, but I like my squirrelly squiggles. They are fun. I put nuts out for them on a shelf beside my office window and they jump across from the fence. I can even feed them by hand if I go out quietly with a tempting hazelnut.
I just had to laugh yesterday though! I'd taken Rum the dog for his morning walk in Epping Forest, come home and done all the boring chores, then sat down at my desk with a cup of coffee and a couple of digestive biscuits. The squirrels were doing their squirrelly thing outside, so I opened the window and left a piece of biscuit on the shelf. It was duly pounced on and appreciated. Ten minutes later, having finally got down to doing some work, I looked up and there was Squiggy on his hind paws, standing up at my window peering pathetically in at me. I fell for it of course. I got him/her another biscuit. Does anyone know how you tell a Mr from a Mrs/Ms Squirrel by the way?
The birds are also doing well. My gang of yobbo sparrows has made it through the bad weather, as well as the robin and the blackbirds and the collared doves.
We had a panic with the fishpond because the pump which keeps the water clean packed up, but it did not take long to get a new one, so the fish are fine, all happily 'hibernating' on the bottom. Now all I want to complete the countryside effect is a couple of hedgehogs in the garden.
I could also do with a return to normal brain-function. I'm assuming the extra do-lally-ness I am presently experiencing is an accumulation of the residue of December's unpleasant events. If not, I must have senile dementia setting in. Yesterday I was driving along a road I have known for over 50 years, but suddenly had no idea where I was. And today, my husband received a letter from our bank sending condolences for the death of his wife. I telephoned to tell them in no uncertain terms that I am still very much alive - only to find our bank account had been suspended and was quite a bit of money short. Cross was not the word. I then discovered that I had sent a letter to my Mum's account, at the same bank, to pay the funeral bill. Only I had managed to insert my own account number and not hers. So the bank had assumed Mrs Hollick had passed away and had paid the bill from our account.
In my defence, the bank should have realised the account number did not match any of the other details of my mother's name, her address etc, and they had most definitely not been notified of my demise. Everything was easily sorted out, but I am now wondering what other stupid things I have inadvertently managed to do these last few weeks. Do let me know if you spot anything!
Add to all this I have been doing a massive re-edit of A Hollow Crown which is to be published in the USA and Canada in November of this year as Forever Queen. I needed to cut it by about 46,000 words. Gulp. At first I was reluctant and had no confidence, or even inclination, to do so. But on the advice of a very good author friend, who truthfully told me there was a great book trying to get out of a good book and I should welcome the chance to set it free, I plunged in.
Reading through, I realise that A Hollow Crown was not given the final polish by my old, previous, publisher that it should have had. There are so many unprofessional errors that a good editor would have picked up, and indeed, that I should have noticed. Things like duplicated words and phrases, rambling paragraphs, repeated information, Point of View changes and 'head hopping' from one character to another.
Maybe I am now a more experienced a writer, or just more confident in myself? For whatever reason, the Big Edit is proving most enjoyable, although extremely hard work.
My worry now though, given my present deranged brain-scrambling, is that maybe the chapters I have been blythely deleting were, in fact, important to the story. Oh well, that is what editors are for. Sorry Sara at Sourcebooks Inc, I hope I'm not going to be sending you back something that is even more gibberish than it was in the first place!
Hmm, maybe I'll go wrestle alligators as a new career move.
Lege feliciter (read happily).
January 2010
December 2009 was not a good month.
Pain, physical and
emotional, thickened with every passing day. It was not a month I
particularly wish to revisit, so I apologise for this journal entry being
somewhat shorter and much sadder than usual.
It all started with a
torn muscle in my groin and a fall. I tripped over my dog Rum, landing
heavily on my knees. (Thank you for the joke, Julie. She sent me a lovely
smile along with a get-well card which included the message: "I always
knew rum would be your downfall.") I thought I was only shaken and
bruised, but two days later I was in agony unable to walk. My back was out
and the muscles of my left leg, from thigh to ankle, had gone into acute
spasm, adding to the interestingly-coloured bruising!
I only have
a small house, but the distance between bed and bathroom may as well have
been a marathon. More often than not, abandoning dignity, I gave up trying
to hobble and crawled to "the necessary" or "seat of ease" as termed in my
Sea Witch novels. Ice, heat, painkillers… In the end my doctor prescribed
something really strong which deadened the pain and what little was left
of my awareness. I stayed in bed and became great friends with various BBC
Radio 4 programs.
The 10th of the month brought devastation. Kathy
had to take her horse, Izzy, to the vet because she had suddenly become
chronically lame in her hind foot. Regular readers may recall that Izzy
had recently undergone treatment for her hock. That had healed, but
x-rays showed dreadful, irreparable damage to the navicular bone. The
tendon had been scraping across it and had almost worn it away like a
cheese-grater. Nothing could be done, except to put her down. We have lost
several horses over the years but never has the sorrow been this hard to
bear. Maybe my grief was all the worse because I was bed-bound and beyond
hugging her, so could do nothing to help my daughter through her distress.
And then my elderly Mum had another fall. The ambulance was called
and I managed to hobble to the hospital going through and beyond the pain
barrier while waiting in a very busy Accident & Emergency department
for a doctor to attend Mum. Her heart was failing, dehydration, old age -
basically her almost 92-year-old body was shutting down. The nurses of
Bracken Ward were so very kind, and once I'd made it back to my bed, in
absolute agony, I at least knew Mum was in the best place and being well
looked after by professionals.
My leg was mending enough by
Christmas Eve, so on crutches and using a borrowed wheelchair once at the
hospital, I managed to visit Mum. I opened her Christmas cards with her,
told her all the latest family news and helped her eat her favourite
yoghurt treat. I left her dozing into a peaceful sleep. Sadly she passed
away in the early hours of Christmas Morning.
As I write this,
thoughts of all the things that now have to legally be done are whirling
around my head adding to the loss of my Mum and Kathy's horse,
with the lingering memory of excruciating pain. It is however a
relief that Mum is at rest; she was very frail and ready to go to her God.
Izzy had lived in a happy, kind and caring home and did not suffer much
pain. She will be remembered with great affection.
As is our way
we have taken a deep breath and moved forward. Kathy has found herself a
new horse, a grey thoroughbred called Ace, whose owners were desperate to
find him a good home. Let's hope he helps to heal Kathy's deep hurt. I
want to add how very proud I am of my daughter. She ran the house while I
was ill in bed, visited her Nan in hospital, took care of everything and
set about ensuring that Yule would not be forgotten, even if enthusiasm
was a little on the thin side. She decorated the house beautifully, did
all the shopping and then cooked an entire Christmas dinner. December was
a sh*t of a month - but my daughter ranks among the very best in the
entire world.
Thank you Kath.
Lege feliciter (read
happily).