Abalone of Trill
Apr. 11th, 2018 09:05 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ismoThe good news is that my mother seems to have reverted back to her semi-normal daffy self after a good night's sleep and a dose of Gatorade. The shift supervisor went out to Speedway on his break to buy it for her. Sob. That's really heartwarming. I have to make sure he gets reimbursed for that somehow. She doesn't seem to have much trouble finding her words. In fact, I could hardly get her to stop talking. However, one of her tales was about how a mysterious letter inserted itself into her printer and duplicated itself repeatedly. She suspects the staff somehow put it there, and she objects because they're using up all her paper. That doesn't sound QUITE normal. But the Duchess and I decided in conference that a trip to the ER wouldn't be very useful at this time. I really do believe that she's having some kind of mini-strokes, but it seems they're too mini to be visible on any scanning devices.
The bad news is that I spent much of the morning making various phone calls to the doctor, the staff, my mother, and the Duchess. When Mother didn't answer her phone for quite awhile this morning, I was worried, but when she finally called back, she said she had been at the salon getting her hair shampooed and trimmed. So I don't think she can be too badly off. Anyway, I'll be seeing her Friday.
The Sparrowhawk had a good day. He had a conference call with NCQA, with whom he's still on an advisory committee. When the conversation was less interesting, he worked on his files. Then he went out for a beer with a former co-worker. He very kindly brought home a cheeseburger for me, but it wasn't even remotely done. It was a gruesome wad of raw hamburger. I didn't eat it. I went out for a walk while he was out, but I'm still grumpy. I've gone back on the 23andme diet, even though my 12 weeks are up, because now every deviation from it causes me pain.
While accomplishing nothing much, I have been reading things. I'm currently going through a very old (1956) guidebook to Rome. It was originally written in French, and has excellent black and white illustrations. I love reading old books about famous places. It's a form of time tourism. It seems as if I'm visiting not just another place, but a whole different planet. Writing style has changed so much in the last 60 years. I love the old style, with its leisurely, luxurious, and weighty sentences, as they guide me through the city.
True, these ancient ruins--ancestors from which the present city, with all its nobility and gaiety, has sprung--are now only tiny islands of verdant natural beauty that evoke the joyous springtime of History, leaving no room for nostalgic regrets. The Forum-Palatine area represents an insignificant portion of the modern capital and the imperial monuments scattered over the hills, the ancient Campus Martius and the Roman Viae are but fleeting ghosts to the visitor who condescends to notice this magnificent debris as he drives swiftly round the city in a touring car.
I think "Magnificent Debris" is my new band name/t-shirt slogan. But it's the "touring car" that really slays!
The bad news is that I spent much of the morning making various phone calls to the doctor, the staff, my mother, and the Duchess. When Mother didn't answer her phone for quite awhile this morning, I was worried, but when she finally called back, she said she had been at the salon getting her hair shampooed and trimmed. So I don't think she can be too badly off. Anyway, I'll be seeing her Friday.
The Sparrowhawk had a good day. He had a conference call with NCQA, with whom he's still on an advisory committee. When the conversation was less interesting, he worked on his files. Then he went out for a beer with a former co-worker. He very kindly brought home a cheeseburger for me, but it wasn't even remotely done. It was a gruesome wad of raw hamburger. I didn't eat it. I went out for a walk while he was out, but I'm still grumpy. I've gone back on the 23andme diet, even though my 12 weeks are up, because now every deviation from it causes me pain.
While accomplishing nothing much, I have been reading things. I'm currently going through a very old (1956) guidebook to Rome. It was originally written in French, and has excellent black and white illustrations. I love reading old books about famous places. It's a form of time tourism. It seems as if I'm visiting not just another place, but a whole different planet. Writing style has changed so much in the last 60 years. I love the old style, with its leisurely, luxurious, and weighty sentences, as they guide me through the city.
True, these ancient ruins--ancestors from which the present city, with all its nobility and gaiety, has sprung--are now only tiny islands of verdant natural beauty that evoke the joyous springtime of History, leaving no room for nostalgic regrets. The Forum-Palatine area represents an insignificant portion of the modern capital and the imperial monuments scattered over the hills, the ancient Campus Martius and the Roman Viae are but fleeting ghosts to the visitor who condescends to notice this magnificent debris as he drives swiftly round the city in a touring car.
I think "Magnificent Debris" is my new band name/t-shirt slogan. But it's the "touring car" that really slays!
no subject
Date: 2018-04-12 12:29 pm (UTC)