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SteppeMice of Simmer
Jul. 8th, 2024 09:58 pmThis morning, during our weekly chat, Queenie asked if I was going to have "a week of rest." "Dubious," I replied. Actually it's not at all in doubt--I'm pretty sure I will not. Yesterday I started off the morning by making a dry rub and putting a five-pound brisket in the oven, where it brooded spicily for about six hours. I don't think that was quite enough. It should have had another hour for optimum texture. I then went out to do some weeding. I noticed the pile of fallen leaves and branches under the tree in the front yard. I've been irritated by it for awhile now, and feared it would impede Travis the lawn mower in his good works, so I decided to dispose of it. I was bagging up some of the smaller branches when I discovered that far from being a trivial matter, there were a couple of large limbs underneath all that foliage. The biggest one was so heavy I had to ask the Sparrowhawk to help me lug it to the back yard to add to the giant fallen tree detritus, so that hopefully the tree service will take it away with them. Then I dragged all the rest of it back there too, and trimmed a few more annoying tree sprouts, and pulled up a bunch of intrusive ivy. I was then very tired and hot. I came inside and signed 50 bookplates, a mere dent in the 300+ that were sent by my current publisher to be tipped into collectors' editions. We hauled the brisket and cookies to the potluck, where we had an interesting but exhausting (for an introvert) conversation about narrative and how people decide to change and things of that nature. Then we were tired some more.
The Lumberjack is Tron's point man for disseminating information so she doesn't have to tell dozens of people about the condition her condition is in. He texted us last night about her information from her oncologist. He said she is doing better with her recovery from surgery, although she still tires easily and has some pain. Next Wednesday, she'll be starting chemo with one type of chemo every two weeks for four sessions, then a second type once a week for twelve weeks. This will take us into November. She will have a chemo port installed next week for the duration. I weep inwardly for my child, but putting a good face on it and sending her encouragement will be more useful.
Today neither of us felt really great. We ran out of bread, so I suggested going to the bakery for a sandwich and a day-old but artisanal loaf. This was a welcome island of sanity in between phone calls. I've had far too much conversation with people. It makes me feel like Bilbo with the Ring--"thin and stretched, like butter that has been spread over too much bread." The Sparrowhawk went to the gym in spite of everything, and came back refreshed. I spent the evening hours signing another 250 bookplates. At least that job is done. This is why I say that I doubt I will have a restful week.
The Lumberjack is Tron's point man for disseminating information so she doesn't have to tell dozens of people about the condition her condition is in. He texted us last night about her information from her oncologist. He said she is doing better with her recovery from surgery, although she still tires easily and has some pain. Next Wednesday, she'll be starting chemo with one type of chemo every two weeks for four sessions, then a second type once a week for twelve weeks. This will take us into November. She will have a chemo port installed next week for the duration. I weep inwardly for my child, but putting a good face on it and sending her encouragement will be more useful.
Today neither of us felt really great. We ran out of bread, so I suggested going to the bakery for a sandwich and a day-old but artisanal loaf. This was a welcome island of sanity in between phone calls. I've had far too much conversation with people. It makes me feel like Bilbo with the Ring--"thin and stretched, like butter that has been spread over too much bread." The Sparrowhawk went to the gym in spite of everything, and came back refreshed. I spent the evening hours signing another 250 bookplates. At least that job is done. This is why I say that I doubt I will have a restful week.
