In some ways my life has been sort of on hold this past few months because I’ve been waiting to find out if I can get some surgery which will (I hope) transform my life or at least help it to revert it to where it was five or so years ago – the life where I could manage to walk a few miles or get right round the supermarket or do more than one thing in a day without collapsing in a heap. Or even go upstairs in my own house without taking a stick with me. The fact that I’ve now got a very pretty lilac-coloured stick from Amazon is not really that much of a consolation for everything else! Now that I’ve actually managed to take a step further in the process as well as coincidentally having overdone things in the past week without doing myself much harm, I do feel a little more energised, although still incapable of going for a walk without incapacitating myself for the next couple of days.
Flowers on Dunfermline station
I can still manage to write, thank goodness, and even during the darkest times I seem to be capable of writing fairly cheerful material, even though it does usually take the form of murder mysteries. I’m approaching the end of the 12th in my main series and hope to finish the first draft some time next week. Once that’s done, of course I have to spend some time editing and so on, but I will feel more free to go out to what’s left of the Edinburgh festival season. I was holding out against getting any book festival tickets until the other day, but I was swayed by finding a session on Flemish immigrants to Scotland that may or may not be relevant to my family history. Likewise, having now discovered the Reduced Shakespeare Company are here, I will try and get tickets for their show. I’m still trying to talk myself into – or out of – going on a steam train trip next weekend. More on that story later – or not, as the case may be!