Ear ye, ear ye...

for Knots in the String...

‘The ear is the avenue to the heart.’ Voltaire

(Asleep post ear-surgery)

Well, you see, there’s a number of stories today and you must guess the truth of it:

1.     That this ear issue happened during a shark attack when I was swimming. Rather like my kayak paddle which was also attacked a few years ago. (But then is this a true story?)I punched the shark in the eyes and he snapped at my ear, ripping off 30 %. Or…

2.     I had a passionate night with my husband. He bit 30% from my ear in a moment of extreme passion. Or…
3.     Over many years of Outdoors, I’ve had too much sun. It has caused an invasive skin-cancer and a surgeon chipped off 30%. Or…

4.     My dog and I were tumbling on the floor. Make-believe tussles with laughter from me and craziness from my terrier. He unintentionally grabbed at my hair, got my ear by mistake and bit 30% from it. Or…

5.     We were agisting a young gelding on our farm – a handsome animal, a heavy horse, perhaps part Clydesdale with creamy feathers foaming around his fetlocks and gentle as a lamb. I was brushing the mud from his tutu-type legs and he was nuzzling my head, as horses do, a bee stung him and he snapped - got my ear, taking 30%…

Whatever you think is the truth, I confess it hurts. Not only that, the bandage is caught on fibres of my hair and that too, like the pain, is inescapable, creating a lower scalp neuralgia. All in all, I’ll be glad when it’s all done, the bandaging is off and it can heal. It’s a horrid thing to be going through.

I wonder how different I will look? Does it matter?

In a stupidly vain way, yes.

I’ve known that ear of mine for seventy years and it’s quite the familiar part of me. It’s been neat and flat and just the right size for handling hair-do’s and favourite earrings.

The surgeon reminds me that this isn’t about how I will look, although he concedes it matters to a point and he is a very gifted corrective surgeon. This is about removing cancer from a lifetime in the sun before protective creams were invented and hats recommended. As the discomfort makes itself known, I remind myself that every moment I spent in the outdoors has been a gift, a cherished experience that fired all my senses and etched indelible memories on my very soul.

I’ve no idea what it’s like beneath the bandage and I’m nervous to a point. I will know tomorrow. Maybe I’ll have to adjust my hairstyle. Gosh – that too has been with me forever, but maybe it’s time for a change.

And change they say, is as good as a holiday…

Bookshelves:

I’m reading a number of things depending on my mood.

Buddhism for Busy People which I’ve mentioned in past newsletters.

The Bombay Prince – also mentioned in past newsletters.

The Monk’s Widow. This is a new one which I began this week. Written by Nancy Maguire it is ‘A memoir of a Resilient Love and Intimate Death…’  and has a most tempestuous, raw and honest tone. I am interested in how folk deal with the grief of living with a death sentence and then losing their lifelong partners. I did after all, write a fiction about something similar, which I’ve mentioned in the past - Passage by Prue Batten.

Maguire tackles her memoir by writing every detailed, fraught moment with an intellect that punches hard. This is not a soft story. It’s almost as if Maguire and her husband have used a mincer. I suspect this will be a book I will learn from, and which will stay with me. Time will tell.

When we came back to the coast yesterday, in my hasty and pain-riddled state, I forgot my Kindle. So late last night, I sat on the arm of the couch and scanned my Keepers shelves.

These are the books I have loved forever and which I delve into again and again when I need comfort - like eating warm custard with nutmeg, or dragging on the old stretched cashmere cardi that you just can’t throw away. Very few are intellectual reads. All are soft soul reads. Because I’m in discomfort at the moment, I knew a light-ish read might be the thing, so I took two to bed. See below.

I began Prudence (picked because of the name, obviously) but tired of it within a chapter, no insult to Jilly Cooper whose witty writing gives me belly laughs. But the Rosamunde Pilcher burrowed into my senses and whisked me off on a sea breeze to the craggy coastlines of Cornwall and it was there I stayed until the pain meds kicked in. I will finish the book because it enchants me. Pilcher always does.

If I had my Kindle with me, I suspect some more chapters of Henry Beston’s The Outermost House (a beautiful book) may have done a similar thing.

Viewing:

Our subscription to Britbox is the best money we’ve spent. Thus:

BBC’s Royal Chelsea Flower Show – I was in heaven for a week. So many plants and ideas that I must watch it again and make notes. Monty, Joe, Adam, Nicki, Carol Quentin and dozens of exciting others. Of course this mightn’t appeal to everyone.

BBC’s The Go Between. An intriguing movie from the book by LP Hartley. What a poignant and beautifully filmed story, as languid as a summer’s day. But like a hot summer, there is always the incipient threat of a thundery break, and one knows it’s coming. I thought the child star, Jack Hollington as Leo, was captivating. I can’t believe I missed this in 2015, but then I wonder if it missed Australia altogether as the first Downton Abbey was released at the same time.

I do have to say that I’m looking for a really nice comedy at the moment, an easy laugh, not crass. Preferably British. Or something like The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society - something gentle. Any suggestions will be welcome.

Boredom Busters:

Nothing this week, except making hearts for a big package to be sent to Texas by 1000hearts.com.au. The massacre in the States beggars description. I watched my grandson today and thought of good fortune and sensible government.

I wish I could believe things will change in the States but I doubt it. I always remember a staunch Christian from Kansas saying to me that she reserved the right to shoot someone she didn’t know arriving at her farm and then asking questions later.

It left ashes in my mouth.

It was a glittering blue day today and we visited my grandson’s secret pirate beach (see Instagram). THAT was the best boredom buster of all. And I built my very own Zen cairn too.

Thank you for reading this far. I’m grateful, and also happy for you to share this free newsletter with anyone you like.

I’ll wonder if I will be back next week with a new ear and potentially a new hairstyle?

Who knows? Bye.