Breathing Just a Little

So one of the new annoying things that has happen in my already extremely annoying body in the past three months is that I have been diagnosed with chronic gallbladder disease. This means that, while the situation is not currently acute (ie I am not in epoch-annihilating amounts of pain and I'm not yellow), I have a gallbladder that is distended, well below functional, and, to quote my ultrasound report verbatim, "full of calculi (stones) and sludge". Yes, sludge. Apparently this is a medical term for the detritus that will eventually form into stones. Charming, isn't it? I am on a fairly long waiting list to have this rectified surgically (ie by removal), so in the meantime, I am trying to do my best to nurse things along so I don't have an acute event. This has meant pretty sharp alterations to my diet. My main  symptoms were pain and nausea after eating, frequent and painful toilet action, and sudden weird-arse cramps. Since I have modified my diet, all but the...

A friend put me on to Nghi Vo's Singing Hills novellas at the very beginning of March, and I have been picking my way through them ever since. Having just finished book 5 last night, I thought they were definitely worth a review, although the cycle is not finished yet (book 6 is expected out later this year). I have only added the first cover image, but the cover art style is the same for all of the books. The Singing Hills novellas are set in a fantasy world that is closest in analogue to Imperial China, with shades of both Mongolian and Inuit influence. The central conceit and driving device of the series is the journeys of Chih, a travelling archivist and cleric, who gets themselves into a range of problems and adventures as they record the stories of empresses, handmaidens, cultivators, ghosts, tigers, bandits, and many more. In order, the novellas are: 1. The Empress of Salt and Fortune 2. When the Tiger Came Down the Mountain 3. Into the Riverlands 4. Mammoths at the Gates 5....

I gave myself a day off paid work today to get caught up on life stuff.  I did the morning drop-off run. I went to the doctor, the pharmacy, and the optometrist. I did a big grocery shop and the meal planning for the next 10 days. I cleaned the kitchen properly, and watered and weeded my courtyard plants. I did the autumn quilt wash of my big Amish quilt (I wash it twice a year, in spring and autumn). I did my 30-minute weights and stretches routine that my trainer devised for me, and I took the dog for a walk. I paid bills and scheduled a bunch of appointments and meetings. I made a big batch of vegetable soup to take out to my parents. (And yes, I sat down with lunch and a book for an hour too!)  It was a life-productive day, and I think I will return to the work tomorrow refreshed for taking it. It's one of the great benefits, for me, of being a freelancer, and thus my own boss - when there are no pressing client deadlines (and there was only one of those this week, on Wedn...

 (Part 1 of this story can be found here ). My office is cooler than station-normal; I keep a vortex chiller in here to soothe my Martian skin. Callie’s already there when I arrive, sitting straight up in my Mars-wood chair, her exuberant dandelion-fluff of silver hair adding another head’s worth of weight to her frame. Callie Durrant. No-one could’ve been kinder, to the resentful, wounded person I was, when I left Mars on her mining boat to come here. That her particular form of kindness involved keeping her crew off my back, providing me with ample stimulants, and feeding me at regular intervals did not make it less potent, or real. I’ve never resiled from owning the debt I owe her; not then, and not now. I sit down behind my desk and say, “Are you going to tell me straight away, or shall we dance around for a while?” She flares her nostrils slightly and focuses her sighted eye – the lavender one – on me. “Hmmmmm.” I shrug. My thoughts are already racing ahead to the ...