I hope you are all keeping well and safe. I’ve had my first Covid-19 jab, as have my husband and daughter. We are now awaiting jab number two. And for the record: the AstraZeneca vaccine. Mild flu-like symptoms the day after. Nothing else.
But what an up-and-down month March was! Alas,
Down being rather a sore point. Literally!
There I was, one Monday evening, helping to bring the horses in from the field. I had Franc, our three-year-old who wanders in quite happily with me. Next thing I knew I was flat on my face – came down a right wallop – with Franc, all 16 hands of him, right behind me. He trod on the back of my left thigh, but, thank goodness, managed to side-step the rest of me... My back, my head...? I let go of him (of course, but we’re in our private lane, so no worries there) and lay there a bit like a beached whale, winded, and wondering how much of me was now not in one piece.
Kathy hastily shoved the other horses away – having ascertained that No, I didn’t think I needed an ambulance. I rolled over. Okay. Nothing seemed broken, but ‘ouch’ was putting it somewhat mildly.
Big problem – getting up again (not easy anyway for me, with arthritic knees). On my feet: again, no, nothing seemed broken, nothing bleeding either, just a bit battered and shaken.
Next day, still a little shocked, the bruise on my thigh was enormous. If you’d like to see it, hover your mouse pointer
here
.
I confess the enormous black hoof-print-shaped splodge looks worse than it is, although I am very, very sore and I’m creaking around like an old chair that’s lost its stuffing and has a wonky leg. Getting up the stairs is great fun. Not!
Add to the black-and-blue-and-purplish bruised leg, the heel of my left hand was quite puffed up. As I write this my hand is strapped up and I have to return to A & E for a consultant’s opinion of whether I have broken one of the small scaphoid bones or not. Judging by the high "ouch" factor ten days after my face-first-splat, yes I have broken something. I’m becoming quite adept at typing two handed, but with only one finger from my otherwise immobilised left hand.
I will tell you that getting dressed or undressed, especially where anything elastic is concerned, is not easy! Whoever invented bras needs to think again…
With my right shoulder still sore adding to the discomfort, I rather wish I could just stay in bed! (Which I probably would if I had Internet at that end of the house – but thick eighteenth-century walls were not designed for email or web browsing. Alas, no connection up there.)
Franc, needless to say, is absolutely fine.
The good news, the
Ups, however, nicely balance the frequent "ooh", "ow" and "ouch" sounds that waft from wherever I happen to be.
I’ve received some fabulous reviews for
A Mirror Murder
from some highly eminent book review sites such as Jo Barton’s "
Jaffa Reads Too", in addition to being awarded an IndieBRAG
Honoree Medallion and a Chill With A Book ‘
Book of the Month’ award.
In addition to these, I’m accumulating some super reviews on good old Amazon. Things like:
"I bought this book by chance as I was scrolling and I am so glad that I did. It’s the first book that I have actually been able to get stuck into for a long time. Excellent setting and plot."
and
"I enjoyed the writing, the plot, the red herrings and the fact that the main character is only 6 months younger than I am, so I could easily identify with the time in which the book is set. [1971]"
Mind you, I’m not sure which book this person was reading:
“Very wimpish heroine. Seemed to cry all the time! Too much unnecessary detail and almost making a short story into a novel.”
My Jan is only 18 years old, and yes, has a little weep soon after she’s come across the murder victim and at another point when relief overwhelms her. That makes her human, not ‘wimpish’. Plus, it’s clearly promoted as a novella which means a short-long-story or a long-short-story. Take your pick.
It is well over 30,000 words though, and being priced at a modest £1.99 / £3.99 ($2.78 / $5.39 US), I think it’s a
bargain! Still, I guess you can’t please all the readers all the time, can you?
I’m off to have my dinner. Pasta again, I think. It’s easier to eat one-handed…
Stay Safe.
Wash your hands.
Keep your distance.
Wear a mask.
We read because we love exploring the shape of stories.