Epiphany of Celeste
Jan. 6th, 2023 09:23 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ismoIt's also Joan of Arc's birthday--maybe. They might have made that up after the fact. Meanwhile, it's official: FIVE MINUTES of sunshine in the year so far. Tonight's the full moon, but you'd never know it. I'm moving like the runner in Zeno's paradox with this manuscript, which I am now desperate to get off my hands and on to the next stage. But apparently not desperate enough to sit with it until it's finished. Last night I had a really vicious acid reflux incident. I relaxed my vigilance and forgot that there are certain things I can't eat in the evening. As a result, I was up for a long time in the middle of the night. So I'm tired and potentially cranky, though I'm trying to suppress the crankiness, other than uttering Wookiee noises at random intervals. I hustled to the grocery store to get some veggies and things and be back before our weekly Zoom with Deb and the Prussian. It's depressing. Everything costs so much. The fish counter was empty. Even the cheese aisle was depleted. I got some frozen fish fillets of the cheapest variety, and the Sparrowhawk did his best to make them tasty, but they were not. Fish normally isn't chewy, but this was. Had I bought some fresh whitefish, it would have been delicious, I'm sure, but it also would have cost 14.99 a pound.
Deb and the Prussian are heroes--they recently tracked Wol down in his hospital room and visited him. One of the topics that came up was his concern for all his STUFF, which in his mind is of great value, and he's worried that it will be turned over to unappreciative people. He claimed to have 10,000 books, and he was trying to think of someone who would want them. Having been through this with my own parents, I recalled the number of a book dealer who came at the end and hauled off three truckloads of my father's books, after the fancy dealers had picked them over. Miraculously, I was able to find the contact info for that guy and share it with Wol's son. The Prussian providentially arrived just in time to encounter the PT guy, who was having a lot of trouble with the obstinate Wol. The Prussian gave Wol a rousing pep talk on the need to cooperate if he ever wants to regain independent motion. This may just possibly remain in Wol's mind and do him some good. Meanwhile Madame was calling me to inform me that she has run out of insurance money for her stay in rehab, and will be returning to her home, where her kids hope she can find some kind of live-in help. "I haven't talked to you in awhile," she remarked. Yeah, like not since yesterday, when you told me some of the same stories--as I did NOT say. Ah, the ongoing catastrophe of it all . . . .
Deb and the Prussian are heroes--they recently tracked Wol down in his hospital room and visited him. One of the topics that came up was his concern for all his STUFF, which in his mind is of great value, and he's worried that it will be turned over to unappreciative people. He claimed to have 10,000 books, and he was trying to think of someone who would want them. Having been through this with my own parents, I recalled the number of a book dealer who came at the end and hauled off three truckloads of my father's books, after the fancy dealers had picked them over. Miraculously, I was able to find the contact info for that guy and share it with Wol's son. The Prussian providentially arrived just in time to encounter the PT guy, who was having a lot of trouble with the obstinate Wol. The Prussian gave Wol a rousing pep talk on the need to cooperate if he ever wants to regain independent motion. This may just possibly remain in Wol's mind and do him some good. Meanwhile Madame was calling me to inform me that she has run out of insurance money for her stay in rehab, and will be returning to her home, where her kids hope she can find some kind of live-in help. "I haven't talked to you in awhile," she remarked. Yeah, like not since yesterday, when you told me some of the same stories--as I did NOT say. Ah, the ongoing catastrophe of it all . . . .
