This is how it looked earlier. Sky is chucking it down and everything is white. Old Mother Holle is shaking out the bedding - now, when “Aprille with his shoures soote the droghte of Marche hath perced to the roote.” Yeah, right. Don’t get me wrong, one appreciates the elements in all their manifestations and I am by no means wishing to hurtle into a long and remorselessly hot summer, nor has it passed me by that here in Blighty we don’t really have much of what you might call Spring these days. They don’t call me RTS for nothing, after all, no siree. I notice things. And one doesn’t like to grumble, but:
Son is still not well, and this after a clutch of doctors gung-hoeing that all would be well in this the best of all possible worlds, in time for his trip to the States on Tuesday; and a second course of (different) antibiotics because it was found on Friday (by an ENT specialist, at the eleventh hour) that he had tonsillitis and nasty things on the tonsils that were somehow missed by the health centre doctors; and he has been on mega-strength painkillers, and at time of posting is still needing them. He also has a quantity of naturopathic, homoeopathic and otherpathic remedies to help things along, but sometimes the body just needs time to recover and restore itself; which isn’t necessarily welcome news to someone wishing with all his heart to go off on a wonderful trip that has been planned and worked for (are you listening, Angels?) – ach!
Mr. Signs has been buying energy-saving lightbulbs. We have one at the top of the house casting a murky gloom on the postage stamp landing at the top of the stairs, and another in the kitchen, a bit brighter but still cold and desolate, like Narnia before the coming of Aslan. I love electric light and have always bragged about the fact that all my other Conditions notwithstanding I have never suffered the awfulness of S.A.D. But these new bulbs may change all. I am as keen to save the planet as the next chap, but I’m going to stock up on the old bulbs while they are still for sale. The world still needs a functioning Sign-reader, is what I will tell myself and anyone else who might want to talk about the weight of my carbon footprint.
But The Doctor is back, and not before time. For I love him. Well, not him exactly, but the idea of him – in all of his incarnations, and I have been there since the very beginning with William Hartnell and his child-assistant, Susan. Knee-high to a grasshopper though I was, I wished that it were me going off with him to travel in time and space in the blue telephone kiosk spaceship; and ever after, I have found the idea of staying put on planet earth a bit of a trial.
On the other hand, there are compensations. Speaking on the phone to Daughter today, she told me about the Sunday roast beef she and her flat-mate were planning to cook later on for themselves and others who were coming to eat with them, and her general cheerfulness about it seemed to suggest that this might be the very thing I needed to do in order to redeem the day a little. So I have been to the village Tesco Express and bought a joint of pork because that’s all there was. But it will do. Sufficient to the day the joint* thereof – and I don’t suppose you get much of that on the Tardis.
Son is still not well, and this after a clutch of doctors gung-hoeing that all would be well in this the best of all possible worlds, in time for his trip to the States on Tuesday; and a second course of (different) antibiotics because it was found on Friday (by an ENT specialist, at the eleventh hour) that he had tonsillitis and nasty things on the tonsils that were somehow missed by the health centre doctors; and he has been on mega-strength painkillers, and at time of posting is still needing them. He also has a quantity of naturopathic, homoeopathic and otherpathic remedies to help things along, but sometimes the body just needs time to recover and restore itself; which isn’t necessarily welcome news to someone wishing with all his heart to go off on a wonderful trip that has been planned and worked for (are you listening, Angels?) – ach!
Mr. Signs has been buying energy-saving lightbulbs. We have one at the top of the house casting a murky gloom on the postage stamp landing at the top of the stairs, and another in the kitchen, a bit brighter but still cold and desolate, like Narnia before the coming of Aslan. I love electric light and have always bragged about the fact that all my other Conditions notwithstanding I have never suffered the awfulness of S.A.D. But these new bulbs may change all. I am as keen to save the planet as the next chap, but I’m going to stock up on the old bulbs while they are still for sale. The world still needs a functioning Sign-reader, is what I will tell myself and anyone else who might want to talk about the weight of my carbon footprint.
But The Doctor is back, and not before time. For I love him. Well, not him exactly, but the idea of him – in all of his incarnations, and I have been there since the very beginning with William Hartnell and his child-assistant, Susan. Knee-high to a grasshopper though I was, I wished that it were me going off with him to travel in time and space in the blue telephone kiosk spaceship; and ever after, I have found the idea of staying put on planet earth a bit of a trial.
On the other hand, there are compensations. Speaking on the phone to Daughter today, she told me about the Sunday roast beef she and her flat-mate were planning to cook later on for themselves and others who were coming to eat with them, and her general cheerfulness about it seemed to suggest that this might be the very thing I needed to do in order to redeem the day a little. So I have been to the village Tesco Express and bought a joint of pork because that’s all there was. But it will do. Sufficient to the day the joint* thereof – and I don’t suppose you get much of that on the Tardis.
* it's at this point that the title of the post suggested itself to me, but I have always wanted to play Hamlet, as it happens.
12 comments:
Wow, I didn't realise the snow was settling anywhere.
Still thinking of Son of Signs and wishing for a speedy recovery.
And as for Dr Who, I just love it too! Jon Pertwee was the earliest Doctor I remember.
I missed last nights episode and am watching it tonight. I can't wait.
Thanks for the wishes, Kahless.
The Doctor got a sniffy write-up in the Guardian's Guide but even when it's bad it's good; that's my postiion, anyway. Doctor can do little wrong.
The snow which has chosen to visit you is very lovely. On another day, might you have considered yourself lucky? Or do you have it in for all snow, regardless?
Hope the boy turns the corner soon - gargling with soluble aspirin usually helps, but no doubt he's doing that already.
Love your snowy picture - we were greeted with a similar sight this morning. Somewhat ironic given that we returned from a skiing holiday in the French Alps late last night - £xK and a 1400 mile round trip when we could just have stayed at home... but then I'd have missed out on plentiful supplies of vin chaud and tarte tatin, so maybe it was worth it after all : )
I love snow, But Why, and if this were Christmas, January, or even February, would consider myself blessed. But the quality of light that is here now, and belongs to this time of year, does make it feel, somehow, wrong. On the other hand, the concerns about son's condition probably contributed to this. I like how you put it: "The snow which has chosen to visit you is very lovely." I have not, on this occasion, received it with much grace which is, perhaps, a pity.
Gael, I think he has actually turned the corner - just. Enough for him to feel fairly sure that he is going on the trip. He's been gargling everything - but I it's the heavy duty antibiotics that have kicked in and done the trick.
Your trip will have been worth every penny. I used to ski - loved it. And it's a good investment to store up lovely experiences, I reckon.
I am holding my breath while Son of Signs turns the corner.
Woke here to branches crackling with snow (definitely not the whispery, silent night, Christmassy kind). It had disappeared by the time the rest of the household was up - only one other as the remaining family are distributed among Morocco, Greece and Plymouth.
Skiing, vin chaud and real salade nicoise with all the extra bits...sigh...I was there once.
Just watched the new Doctor. Love him, love the show, nothing but love.
The snow is beautiful. We didn't have much of a winter here at all, so I've missed it. It appears we'll have a brief spring and a blistering three months of summer is just around the corner.
Do Cybermen like pork and do they know where the village of Tesco Express is?
I hope not - they kept me prisoner behind the sofa on a number of occasions.
Hi Nicola, if I could ask you to hold your breath just a little longer - while he turns. Thank you.
Collin, absolutely! Good to see another Doctorx-lover (and I mean only Him, not GPs or hospital consultants, useful though they are).
Minx, you have worried me now. Everyone in the whole universe knows where the village of Tesco Express is. Do they like pork? As long as it's up for extermination - oh no, that's Daleks. I don't think a joint of pork can be transformed into a cyberthing. So I'll be ok. Any anyway, I have absolute faith in The Doctor.
Thanks. Glad to hear Son of Signs is showing a hint of improvement.
As for the snow, I was delighted to discover that even in London, even in April, it is still possible to catch snowflakes on the tongue.
Lovely lovely picture of snow, and I am kicking myself that I didn't have the wherewithal to take a photo on Sunday as well. And even with all that has been sent to try you, you found time to pick up that camera and take that beautiful photo. Thank you.
Also I really hope your son gets better too and makes that all important, and long awaited trip. Fingers and everything crossed.
I have never done that, But Why - will have an opportunity this week though, judging by weather forecasts.
Wordstar - hello. The photos always seem to come out well when I use the camcorder stills, but it's a bit of a palaver. I really want to get myself a neat little proper camera. It's good to catch the moments, isn't it?
Thank you for the good wishes. Crossed fingers much appreciated as son is going to travel - in London now and flying to New York tomorrow.
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