cloudy, light rain, cool. temps 9
Started off cloudy and cool, then got cold. temp dropped through the day. And it's raw. Windy, damp. A cold that goes right through you.
My cold still isn't gone and I ended up coughing most of the night. Finally got up at 4:30 - figuring I could finish the edit on The Brutal Telling (book 5), then go to the walk-in medical clinic in Knowlton, which starts at 8am. And meet Cheryl for lunch at noon.
So I got up, let the dogs out, Michael dear one (am thinking of having his last name legally changed to Dear One), got up and made me a cup of tea - then went back to bed while I worked a couple of hours on the manuscript.
And finished!!!! Yay. So this stage of book 5 is done! We sent it off to be printed and bound so that Michael and my brother Doug could read it and comment, then it's off to Teresa, my agent in London. It was necessary to send it off quickly to be printed before I decided on more fine-tuning. I've learned at some stage it really is necessary to say, 'Good enough. Time to let it out of my hands.' It's like tearing off a bandage.
Then got to the clinic (in cold and rain) at 7:40 - with Michael (Dear One). Already 7 people waiting. More people came after us and we all chatted and waited for the receptionist to open the door and give us our numbers. It's an honour system - we know who arrived first, last and the order in between. Has worked everytime.
Until this morning.
perhaps because it was so cold and miserable, or maybe most of the people were just miserable, but when the receptionist came to open the door at 8am - there was a stampede. The poor guy who was there second, at 7:15, and had waited 45 minutes in the drizzle - ended up with Number 7. People squeezed in a head of us - but not bad. Instead of 8 we got number 9. But further ahead there was chaos.
Finally the real Number 2 (perhaps not the way he'd really like to be remembered) stood up and demanded to know who had his number, as he waved his number 7 around. The woman next to him admitted she did. He demanded her card. She said she'd give it to him, if whoever had number 3 gave it to her (her real place). And so on. It was clearly not going well.
So I stood up and said it sounded fair to me. That I didn't want to change my number. It was higher than we'd come in, but I could see that people should be seen in the order they arrived. So I took cards from people's hands and re-organized them. I think people were too stunned to notice. I think it also helps to be 6 feet tall. And not to have an agenda of my own.
Anyway, it all worked out... Not sure if I didn't become the common enemy, but at least there was no riot. And, wouldn't you know it, when it came time for me to see the doctor (almost 2 hours later) my cough had gone and he seemed confused about why I was there. I tried coughing...haph, haph. But he seemed unconvinced.
But I did get him to cough up a perscription for an anti-biotic.
I just don't want to be ill at Bouchercon, which is the mystery readers and writers version of the Iron Man Triathalon.
Had a muffin and cafe au lait in Knowlton with Dear One, dropped him at home, drove to Sutton in time to pick up the printed and bound manuscript from Bob (photocpy guy), fill the perscription, get a tortiere for dinner, rent The Color of Money and meet Cheryl for lunch.
Amazing what gets done if you get up at 4:30!
Wonderful lunch with Cheryl. We both decided to get sessions with a visiting psychic on Saturday. What fun! Will tell you all about it.
Then spent the afternoon in a bubble bath watching Paul Newman and a very young Tom Cruise.
The leaves continue to fall from the trees. Our lawn now looks as though tens of thousands of monarch butterflies have landed. Still loads of leaves on the trees though.
Hope you're well - talk tomorrow.