Bloody but unbowed - Beckham and I

Today, I am recovering after my eye operation, yesterday, for diplopia – I think that’s what they called it. It is too early to tell if it has been successful in restoring me to single vision, but I will be seeing the orthoptist next week. The eye that was subjected to the surgeon’s knife is somewhat bloodstained now, but I’m coping pretty well, having put my contact lens in the other eye. (Since this the more short-sighted one, I can see pretty well.)

However, I have had indigestion all day, having accepted a rather stale complimentary sandwich at the Royal Surrey. Good filling, shame about the bread. Or it may have been the giant size painkillers I accepted, on awakening from the anaesthetic. Amazing, one minute I was discussing with the anaesthetist, living near the shooting range at Bisley, and whether people could possibly take offence at shooting clay pigeons, and the next I was woken up, and it was all over. And David Beckham was having his op at the same time, no doubt - and neither of us will be in the World Cup.

Having spent the evening yesterday, in front of the TV, today, I have been out for a short walk, transferred a few crocuses to a new position, watered a half dying rhododendron and done normal things about the house. For the rest of this week, I’ll be at home, with the exception of the trip to the reading circle. I expect the OH will drive me there, as I’m reluctant to put in the right hand lens yet. I’d already collected all the library books for the whole group, so I can’t bow out. In any case, I’m interested to hear the verdict on The other hand by Chris Cleeve.

Last Saturday, we went to dinner at Irene, with Jennifer and other half in attendance – thank you, Irene, for a lovely evening and for taking my mind partially off the impending operation. Prior to that, we all rushed out on Friday to get copies of the Surrey Advertiser – large imposing picture of the three Goldenford authors with their books and a good write- up. As ever, I didn’t like the photo of myself. Too short; too plump, too round shouldered - and metallic hair. Unfortunately, I had already booked a hair appointment for the following day, because it was looking tatty, and I couldn’t bring it forward, so I did my best with it which wasn’t quite good enough. The other two looked stately and dignified. However, the important thing is that it brings in an audience for our Music and the Muse talk on Thursday evening, 7.30 p.m., 25^th March, at the Guildford Institute. Tickets available from frances@goldenford.co.uk. Buy early, buy often.

In the meantime, I nearly forgot to say that, as a result of my article about Tainted Tree in Family Tree Magazine, I have had orders via the wholesaler, Gardners, every month since December, and only last week a copy made its way to Walthamstow - a long way from this territory, plus a copy was sold from the Amazon site. It's nice to know it's getting around.

Writing progress

Out for lunch yesterday at Irene’s, (http://homepage.ntlworld.com/blacks.house/) my fellow writing buddy. But not before I had dealt with the mindless Monday tasks of removing sheets, towels etc and filling the linen basket with them. Like Alice, for ever running to stand still, in this aspect of my life. But this morning I’ve loaded the machine, so the contents of the linen basket are reduced by half.

Horrible morning, so far, the sky dark and the rain pouring down and drumming on the roof. But it’s still not cold for December. When I was writing my novel, Tainted Tree, which takes place over a six month period, I kept a database so that I would know what was going on in the garden, what the weather was like on any particular day and what time the sun went down. This web diary could prove equally useful as a reference – assuming, of course, I can go back into my own archive, which I haven’t checked.

There was a good interview on the Today programme this morning. Professor Christopher Marks was on, explaining why we should keep open the Royal Surrey County Hospital. M and I talked about the awful occasion when he had waterworks problems. He woke me up in the middle of the night and told me I had to get him to hospital. He was in agony. I didn’t have time to put in my contacts, but used glasses instead (never quite as good) and the weather was horrible. But the drive to the Royal Surrey is easy, and I got him there in less than 15 minutes. How different it would have been if we had had to cross the ranges to Frimley, or drive along the horrid ‘narrow lanes’ leading to St. Peter’s, Chertsey. Speed was of the essence; they said afterwards his kidneys could have been damaged.

Why are they reducing the facilities of a modern hospital?

I’ve received the first critique of Tainted Tree from the YouWriteOn site. Main criticism – description needs cutting and my heroine doesn’t sound American. I will have to look at it again. However, last night, when I prepared three chapters to send out, I hadn’t seen these comments and I will send it off anyway, without amendment. Today, I’m also going to print out my short story for submission, and see if I can come up with something new for Guildford Writers (http://www.guildfordwriters.net/) tonight.