…during which my activities included– but were not limited to–
1) Observing the Transit of Venus with my friend Prunella (and qualifying for an award certificate from NASA in the process),
2) Interviewing (along with several of my co-workers) for a promotional opportunity at work (which is still hanging fire thanks to a terminal case of bureaucratic dithering, much to everybody’s disgust),
3) Watching two versions of Jane Eyre— again with my friend Prunella– the Wasikowska/Fassbender version (draggy, deadly dull, and Mia Wasikowska often looked like she didn’t have a brain in her head) and the Masterpiece Theater version with Ruth Wilson (a plowhorse bumpkin of a Jane) and Toby Stevens (who never seemed to want to kiss Ms. Wilson full on the mouth for whatever reason, and kept missing it badly). The Wilson/Stevens version was the better of the two, but only just– it veered so far off the actual plot of the novel, that at times, Prunella and I burst into peals of WTF-Was-That-All-About-laughter, and we both decided the person who did the screenplay should stick to writing limericks on lined foolscap paper with crayolas, and leave Charlotte Bronte the heck alone. Just for the record, the Michael Jayston/Sorcha Cusack version remains my gold-standard JE, with the GCS/Suzannah York version coming in a very close second… and…
4) I’ve still been slogging along the old care-giving trail with my folks, which has meant watching my father continue a steady downward slide in both his overall health and cognitive ability. He also has picked up a cold which has taken 3 weeks of extra work and medication to get him over, and he’s still not fully recovered yet. Any physical ailment he has takes a toll on his mental faculties, as at this stage of the game, he does not have enough gas left in the tank to run both his immune system and his higher brain function at the same time. The result has been some really drifty, loopy behavior, major bouts of incontinence (due to forgetting to let any of us caregivers know he needed either a commode-trip or a urinal), an inability to remember how to organize his arms and legs so that he can get out of a chair, and some awful moments of agitation and/or confusion, during which he has become irate with his cerebral-aneurysm-surviving wife of over 60 years when she tries to carefully explain to him that she is not his mother, but his wife. He also told her last week he no longer loved her, only to forget his outburst five minutes later, and frankly, it has been a real trip to keep Mom on a semi-even keel during all of this.
What all this means, of course, is that I’ve had little to no time to work on making more altered books, nor have I really been following anything much in the news (except for spending about 10 minutes reading a couple of internet accounts of Katie Holmes ditching Tom Cruise and giving Scientology a well-deserved black eye). Both the blog and my Pottermore account have also been languishing, though I have managed to squeeze in some time for a bit of yoga and some of my ongoing magickal studies, and this last week, I did actually get my bed linens changed, two loads of laundry washed, and I threw together a big batch of Carrot-Cucumber-Apple Salad with Ginger-Miso Dressing so I’d have something good to eat to take to work for lunch.
Tomorrow, I will head out to my dentist to get my teeth cleaned, do some grocery shopping, and stop at the post office to mail my bills. My car is also due for an oil change, but that will have to wait until I have time to fit it in next week. Now I am off to shower and then I will go to bed… to sleep, perchance to dream…