A change and a rest.

I have found it incredibly difficult to pick up my skirts and run the last distance to the end of the task. I've been sick; there's been snow; there have been other things crowding in. My usual writing place is in a lovely old shed at the back of the garden. With the earthquakes in Christchurch, the walls and door have shifted and now a howling wind blows through. That and the cold and wet and soggy garden made my writing space very undesirable. Here is the nice tidy WARM inside of that place.

I was bemoaning my lack of 'my space' within our house to a teaching collegue and she suggested I carve out one for myself right this minute (well, as soon as I got home from school). I don't know why I hadn't thought of it before. So, here I am, writing this to you from the corner of my bedroom


Now, the loo is across the hall; the kitchen (for my snacks and cuppas) is accessed by five strides and, if I'm in serious need of distraction, the living room with fire, telly and family are two doors away.

So, off to make a cup of tea, flex my fingers and begin to begin again.

snow - it's the same no matter what century

It's been snowing in Dunedin for a couple of days. Yesterday, after six days of being house bound due to poor health, I donned snow gear, put on special grips for my shoes, grabbed a ski pole and headed down into the valley to the supermarket. It was fun. Damn cold, but fun. As I made my way back up the hill with supplies and treats for a night in front of the fire, my mind went back to my story. I imagined Fleance, on his own, his horse following, making his way south to England in the snow. I began to ask questions: how would he do it without being discovered? Who would know where he was heading? Why would he be going to England? Of course, I know the reasons behind these questions but I can't tell you yet - you'll have to wait until April 2012. This is what I did discover as I tramped through the sludge and turned my head away from the blizzard: a dead baby will be pulled from the water; a rumour will say the king has gone to Ireland; the bishop will be involved; there will be crossing, double crossings and then more twists.

Oh, and you'll love Flea's new horse. - Don't worry ! Willow is still alive and kicking but just too old now to be a king's battle mount.

PS: I took this picture this morning. From the road looking toward the front of our 100 year old house

an old malaise that still plagues even we commoners

In mediaeval times, one of the most common treatments for head pain was blood letting. The surgeon would figure out which of the humours were affecting the body and make an incision in that quarter, collect blood, study it (including smelling it) and make a diagnosis. Using the treatment was a regular session of bloodletting until the patient felt well.

Why did this work? It is thought that, most commonly because of poor diet and, yes! Stress, the patient suffered from hypertension - high blood pressure. Sometimes an infection or a cold could raise the blood pressure as well. By 'letting out blood' ie bloodloss, the blood pressure went down (just like in all the ER type tv programmes -;he's lost a lot of blood - his bp's dropping....!

So, bloodletting was a very common and, it seemed, usually 60% successful.

Why do I mention this bit of ancient medical trivia? Well, all my life (including two pregnancies) I've had very healthy blood pressure - even when I have a BMI of 44 so, after two weeks of struggling with flu like systems and a headache that just wouldn't go away, I got a check up.

My blood pressure was 145/120! My doctor is a very understated calm person but he was not happy. Go home and rest - now! Thankfully, it was only two days to the school holidays but he duly sent around the district nurse who has been checking it three times a day and I've have to take some pills which make me very sleepy.

After two days, it still hadn't come down and we figured out the problem - my teenagers treating mum like they always do - slave. Tonight there was a blood letting of sort when she stared the family around the table and told them in no uncertain terms that if they did not allow their mother complete bed rest as well as absence of typical teenage demands, I may end up in hospital.

But, I feel a lot like Rachel does in Birthright – it’s so frustrating doing nothing!!

Chipping away on my laptop in between snoozes and dvds though.

We weird writers....

I am thinking of making a list which outs we writers about our strange habits. I can't speak for my writery friends so I'll just let you in on a somewhat answer to the question I get asked often: how do you have time? or How do you do it all: teach, parent, run a household, be goddess...?

My usual quip is: I don't exercise - or dust- or garden.
But truthfully, I spend a lot of my time watching dvds and my favourite tv shows: not to be missed currently in our house: Shortland Street, Castle, Dr Who and, the news - until it gets too depressing.

Anyway, how do I do it response one:
It is currently 3:37am. I have been asleep for six hours after a week very ill from the flu and three days teaching. Why am I at my computer at this time? Because it's quiet! Everyone in the family is asleep. No one needs me. It's Saturday.

At 3:37am, a writer can write with out distraction. For me personally, there is a clarity of thought and deeper understanding of the human condition at this time which informs my writing. This is not the time that I write my action scenes (I need chaos around for that) but for those truly moving a character forward moments.

In about an hour, I will trundle off to bed happy in the knowledge that I've written 500 words and addressed a significant moment for my character.