The funeral was lovely. The new crematorium is sweet and unscary. Bumblebee read well, and the aunties et al told great stories. We drank a lot over the two days, just because there were a lot of good people around to drink with, and we didn't sleep very well, thanks to the cats, who prowled and yowled all night. Dunno what they were complaining about, they had a great time for the most part.
On the way home, along the long empty drive through the Monaro Plains, I got nervous about the amount of things I still have to get done before 'me Op', which has now been confirmed for November 13. So I stuck my head down all weekend and got the cover for my next book* completely printed, and also, in the evenings, got a fair bit done of the teeth-grindingly frustrating design job I'm doing for the art school (it's a history of the institution, written almost wholly from the POV of the bureaucracy, nothing yet of actual art or students). I wanted to take photos of my printing, but BB decided this weekend that he wanted to document his jam-making, so I couldn't take my camera with me. Turns out the jam didn't go that well, so he's pretty much documented what NOT to do. So I can't show you what I've done until tomorrow. It's funny, I've ended up with a cover I love, but it was a very roundabout way of getting to it.
Tomorrow term starts again, a weird little 3-week term which basically just allows students to finish their projects and plan how they're going to set up their work for assessment. And then, of course, there's assessment. I know there's a fair few of you out there marking right now, and my heart goes out to you.
Anyhoo, my book class is supposed to be mounting a little exhibition tomorrow in the school library, so if it happens (they've been a bit cruisy this semester) I'll give you a little virtual exhibition of our own.
And saw Tibet.
*Poems to Hold or Let Go, poems by Rosemary Dobson, wood engravings by Rosalind Atkins. Edition of 200. Yes, 200. I'm a fool. From now on I'm doing no more than 50 or 100 in an edition.
8 comments:
I am shocked -- shocked, I tell you -- by that My Word link. Because my memory of Denis Norden's story about 'You can't have your cake and eat it' is quite different: a story about a very cold Eskimo (he'd lost his fluffy hood or something) lighting a fire in the bottom of the boat to try to keep warm, whereupon the boat of course caught fire. The moral of the story was 'You can't have your kayak and heat it.'
I remember the frantic clear-the-decks run-up to The Op very clearly and I know exactly how you're feeling. Trust me, it will all get done. And if it doesn't, there will be at least two post-op weeks during which you Do Not Care.
One month to go exactly then. I might not have many words of wisdom, but I can almost guarantee you that it won't be a cloudy grey day. It never rains on Nov 13 in Canberra (my bday). :)
howdy,
just wondering where that new book will be available. my parents have known rosemary dobson since i can remember & if possible i'd love to get them a copy.
cheers
Pav: I'm sooo looking forward to not caring. This will be the first proper break I've had for years!
PL: I'll send you birthday thoughts as I slip out of consciousness :)
Catherine: damn good reason to buy one! I'm hoping to make them publicly available in mid-January. Don't worry, I'll let the blog know when it happens. If you want to be on the snail-mail list, drop me an email with the address and I'll send out the prospectus for the book when it's ready. [That goes for anyone else who may be interested!]
Also, Pav, I'm sure Denis did revisits of sayings, so maybe you remember a variation? The show went for a bloody long time, I wouldn't be surprised if they did revisit stuff if they'd thought up a better version.
I'll have to check out the link - My Word and My Music were a staple of my childhood (along with the Goons)
Good luck with the book (and the op, but I'm sure we'll talk before then)
It's not fair that the Op is your first proper break for years. I am (on the inside) running around screaming on your behalf.
Yeah, join the queue, Penthe! That's where I do most of my screaming too...
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