Hallsfoot, hospitals and mystic balloons

Hurrah, I am feeling almost human today, rather than a disease on (rather quivery) legs, so that's a huge relief. Mind you, I still stayed in the living room all night last night - as lying down flat with catarrh is a No Go Area (for reasons I am too generous to explain ...) and I even managed to tot up four hours' sleep. Which is fabulous really. Which brings me to the mystery of the balloon: I had flowers, chocolates and the said (helium) balloon delivered to Lord H for his birthday on Monday and we think the balloon has fallen in love with him. Either that or it's planning something very suspicious indeed. It floats disconsolately around the flat until it finds him and only then does it stay put - yesterday evening, for instance, Lord H brought it into the living room to cheer me up and then he decided to do some reading in the bedroom. When I looked up ten minutes later, the balloon had vanished and a quick search found it hovering above the unsuspecting husband near the curtains. Spooky ... Thinking it was a one-off, I retrieved the balloon and took it back into the living room. Keeping a close eye on it, I watched as it then moved very, very slowly towards the living room door, hovered in the landing for a moment and then turned left and drifted through the bedroom door, coming to rest by Lord H again. It's the turning left that raises the suspicions ... For now, we've tethered its string down with a book on the ironing board, but I'm sure it will find its way out of that at some stage. The plot thickens, Carruthers ...

Anyway from the ridiculous to the sublime: I'm delighted to find out that Every Day Fiction have accepted my flash fiction piece, Night Bees, for publication, so that's thrilling, and I shall look forward to getting a publication date for that. It's one I started to write at the University Writers' Group, so I'm glad it's found a home.

This morning I've trotted off to the hospital to have a post-operation scan. Which sounds easy, my dears, but trust me: it's been complicated. When I received the letter giving me the appointment, I saw they were going to do it the old-fashioned way which means you have to drink a litre of fluid during the two hours before the allotted scan time and hang on to your water (as it were). Bearing in mind my insulin problems, hanging onto the water is always a challenge, so I have to plan to eat lots of salt at the same time to give me a fighting chance of success. So from 7.30am, I've been drinking like a particularly thirsty fish and downing salted cashew nuts along with it (which isn't really that great for the insulin thing either, but needs must etc etc ...). So I arrived at the hospital, congratulating myself on my supreme self-control in the urinary department, and the nurse called me in and asked me to confirm that I was having a kidney scan. I instantly confirmed that I wasn't doing any such thing and I was actually having a uterus scan to see how things were after the op. I also said that I'd drunk my litre of liquid (Lucozade if you're asking) so it should all be okay. She then had a look at my letter, groaned and told me that in fact it was the wrong letter - I should have been sent the one saying I didn't need to drink anything, although I did need to go to the loo before they scanned, as they now have this marvellous new equipment (which I will also not explain out of the kindness of my heart ...) that means the old ways are soooo last year. Sigh ... Anyway, I then trotted off to the loo, undid all the good work I hadn't needed to do in the first place, ditched the ruddy cashews, and all was well. And the good news is she thinks everything looks fine so there's no need to worry - though I should get the results by letter over the next week. Which I have interpreted as being over the next month, naturally.

Oh and I think I'm now seen as the town lunatic (is the position up for grabs? I really must apply ...) - I was walking from the Tesco car park to the hospital (well, it's cheaper that way) when a bird flew past me and I thought in my head: ooh look, a bird! I wonder what it is! However, the words didn't actually remain in my head - they came out of my mouth just as I passed the bus-stop and the woman waiting there gave me a startled look and shrank away. Oh Lordy, do you think I've been in the flat too long? I smiled widely at her (which probably made it worse, thinking about it), decided explanations wouldn't help and carried on. Groan. What else can you do?...

On the way back from town, I also popped into the Ford garage as my windscreen washers (is it just me or is this a very liquid-orientated blog today??) aren't working and no water is coming out either at the back or the front (of the car, people, the car ...). Unfortunately, the words "windscreen washers" completely escaped me as I was trying to tell the very patient James from the Parts Department what the problem was so I just had to keep making windscreen wiper movements with my arms and repeating "no water!". Thankfully, he seemed to understand in the end and he's mended it - without charge, so he must have felt sorry for me. Perhaps they think I'm a special needs driver? Can't say I blame them if they do. Apparently my pipes have frozen up in the bad weather and I might have to have a complete overhaul at some stage although I'm all right for the time being. Hmm, I'm not sure if he was talking about the car or me at that point - it's hard to tell.

Once back home, I have been struggling away with Hallsfoot's Battle - it took ages to get back into, but towards the end I suddenly got to the point of the scene I was writing, so that's a relief really. And I now have 89,500 words under my belt, hurrah. When I go back to it next, I think I'll tackle another Johan scene - I really do have to focus on the battle training, and he's definitely the man (or rather: Gathandrian) for the job.

Tonight, Lord H and I should have been going to the theatre, but actually I think we'll probably end up staying in. I am now sneezing for Britain (always a good sign though) so that certainly wouldn't be popular in the auditorium. And I'm definitely trying for an early night and getting back into the bedroom. But not with that dang balloon.

Today's nice things:

1. Feeling better
2. Lovesick balloons
3. Night Bees being accepted for publication
4. The scan looking okay
5. Hallsfoot
6. A night in.

Anne Brooke
Anne's website - don't drink the water ...