By the light of this torchiere lamp...
"As she only cries about once a year I really ought to have gone over and comforted her, but I wanted to set it all down here. I begin to see that writers are liable to become callous." - Dodie Smith (I Capture the Castle)
Love that book. Took it from my shelf this morning and read a few pages during my lunch break.* Now want to reread Town in Bloom. Must, in fact. Or perish. There. I've ordered it from the library. No one can stop me.
Also, it is Tina Connolly's birthday, and to that end:
and in her voice, the fragments of
five hundred worlds
and from her fingers
crawl a thousand myths
and masks
the iron-souled and iron-skinned
abide in her
to claw and to caress
to peck peck peck at the back of
her breastbone
wriggle through her ribcage
unwet their wings
fly free
So, what else? I work every day this week, Sunday through Friday. It is novel; I haven't worked so much since summer. It is a very good thing, as Sita is currently out of commission due to the lightning bolt crack in her fibula, and I'd only been working 2 days a week most of the winter. A windfall! We may make rent yet!
I've been getting up a half hour to an hour earlier, that I might put things in order for her day. Place things where she might reach them easily. Make breakfast. Make sure there is food for lunch. I don't know. Then come home and make dinner. And then ALL THOSE DISHES.
It's interesting. I don't know how parents of multiple children do it, and I don't know how spouses with elderly or failing spouses do it. They must do it because they must, and they must be more tired than I can even imagine on a nice, selfish, self-serving day.
But today Sita was too sore and stiff from sitting to stay abed. So she took up her silver legs (as she is calling her crutches) and did a bunch of laundry and did dishes. There is a little folding chair we have and she found that she can use it as a kind of walker, keeping her one leg and knee elevated on it in order to go short distances. It was GREAT to come home and see that things were done that I didn't have to do. So much of living together became a seamless, shared partnership (or - only occasionally "seamful", anyway) that it was startling how time consuming doing chores and a half got to be.
Tonight, I think, is a writing night. No movie for us. She is taking a luxurious bath and I'm coming down from my day.
Yesterday, I had hot chocolate and Bailey's Irish Cream when I came home. Today, I had two cups of PG Tips. Yesterday, I was conked by 10 PM. Tonight, no. Tonight... Tonight I will FINISH A CHAPTER is what. WILL SO!
Eh, that's all.
* This was good, as it helped me not to panic that my car wouldn't start when I went to move it from Main Lot to Gravel Lot for reasons I shan't go into, because, why should I? Suffice to say that eventually, after work, the car did start. Tried three times. Finally clicked through and caught. One less thing to give me ulcers. Thank you, Dodie.