Monday, December 13, 2010

back, sort of

Current work: had planned to work on revisions, but I'm not quite up to it
Listening to: Bach violin concerti
Reading: Nicola Cornick – Confessions of a Duchess and Scandals of an Innocent (both very enjoyable and just what I needed to take me out of things)

Apologies for my continued absence (and for worrying people). Apart from sorting out things for the funeral, I’ve also been laid low by another lurgy. I hadn’t stopped coughing from the one I had more than a month ago, so whether this is just a worsening of that one or another one on top of it, I have no idea. My GP says I have croup and am clearly brewing something as, despite judicious use of paracetamol, I still have a temperature. I hurt all over (from coughing), my throat feels as if someone’s scrubbed it with wire wool, and the cough means I’m getting sleep in chunks of an hour or two before a coughing fit wakes me up. I’m just hoping that the antibiotics will sort it before Wednesday, because I absolutely cannot cough my way through church. I have a eulogy to deliver, and it’s very, very, VERY important to me.

Tomorrow is rushing round sorting things out: aka car service, dropping cards in to the florist for laminating and attaching to wreath, taking a pile of parcels to the post office, and doing my Christmas shopping (now my royalty cheque has finally arrived with my agent and I can flex my credit card, knowing that I will be solvent again before the bill comes in. One downside of being self-employed is that your income stream is neither regular nor predictable).

And then, on the work front, Wednesday is the Harlequin ‘Open House’ party. I am going to do my best to show my face and sound cheerful. It isn’t fair to readers who enjoy the annual bash to go in being all mopey, even though Wednesday will cut me to the bone. And if you want to mosey along, here’s the link to the publicity about it and there will be links there to the parties. Lots of authors (including me) are offering books as prizes, and the hosties are usually great.

Thank you to everyone who’s emailed me privately with good wishes, or left me messages here or on FB, or sent cards. It’s really appreciated. (And apologies to those I've worried by not replying - unintentional, just am not my usual organised self right now.) I guess as I’ve lost my father gradually over the last couple of years, I’ve had time to do much of my grieving already. But it’s the little things that make me cry now. The odd phrase, a snatch of music… ‘The look of a room on returning thence.’ I couldn’t read that Hardy poem in my eulogy. It’d break me, and I want to do my father proud and not cry my way through it. My aim is to make everyone remember the good bits, and to make them laugh through their tears: because that’s what he would want.


carolwarham said...

Thinking of you Kate. I hope you feel much better. Unfortunately its probably the stress that has caught up with you. Whatever happens, on Wednesday, your dad will be looking down and be very proud of you.

Katie said...

Hope you are feeling better for Wednesday. Will be thinking of you.

Lacey Devlin said...

*Hugs* Kate! I hope you feel much better soon xx

Anonymous said...

Feel better soon, Kate. My thoughts will be with you on Wednesday and I'm sure you Dad is and will always be very proud of you know matter what.

Take care,


Nicolette said...

All the best for tomorrow.

Anonymous said...

I do hope that the antibiotics are fast acting - you must be so exhausted.
All the best. Hugs. Nina

Caroline said...

Thinking of you Kate, and I hope you are feeling better. Caroline x

Jane Writes Romance said...

Wishing you all the health and strength for Wednesday that you need. My father tried to read a bit of Shakespeare at my mother's funeral and couldn't quite get through it. I made a bit of a mess of my own contribution too. These things happen. Everyone will understand.

Many hugs and best wishes from across the miles. Jxxx

Liz Fielding said...

Take care of yourself, Kate. When I went through what you're going through I coughed for months, too. My doctor, lovely old guy, said I wouldn't stop until the broad beans flowered and he was right. A Seven Seas tonic helped. Grief lowers your resistance to everything and when you're the one doing all the running around it's easy to forget to coddle yourself. Or maybe we feel guilty about being kind to ourselves. Thinking of you.