whining about back pain

It's 32 degrees out there, feeling like 37 - tropical. I'm trying to keep the garden alive, but mostly huddled inside. To think, I almost didn't get A.C. when my house was renovated.

My dear friend Chris sent me a concerned note - why was I informing my blog readers about my return visit to the mammogram clinic, and not my children? Would they not be hurt to find out? Should I not seek support from my nearest and dearest?

And I replied, if there were ever anything serious going on with my health, my children would be the first to know. Until it's serious, I don't want to bother their busy lives. I prefer to bother yours.

I also mentioned to my friend Gretchen that I've been having constant lower back pain for quite a few weeks. "It's back cancer," I said to her, "to go with my breast cancer. And there's also mouth cancer, because I found out that if you drink very hot coffee, you're at risk, and I drink mine very hot." Or at least, I used to - not any more. Tepid coffee from now on.

Gretchen sent me a link to an article she found online, a woman writing that her severe back pain was healed by red wine. Now, that's medical advice I can live with. I just tried it, and two delicious glasses later, I can affirm that it works! The only problem is that I wake up in the morning with the pain. Should I start quaffing right away? That'll make for an interesting summer.

Yesterday, I spoke for an hour with my editor, Colin Thomas, in Vancouver. I have learned so much from him about what goes wrong in my work - the lack of narrative tension, always an issue; the inclusion of details that instruct or indicate but do not advance the narrative. He has divided the book into three acts, which makes a huge amount of sense, and come up with what he thinks the thing is about, which I could not. Extremely helpful. If you want a good editor, I can recommend 3 - Rosemary Shipton, Chris Cameron, and Colin Thomas - the best. My great luck to have worked at least once with all of them.

There's a huge amount of work ahead; today I spent (wasted) time setting up my office with fan and files. I also switched chairs so I can sit in one that's better for my back. And now I just have to @#$ sit there and figure it all out. That's the job.

One more complaint - I am a completely different shape now. I'm wearing a dress I bought at a market in Provence, a little orange slip of a thing that I used to wear outside the house. I wouldn't wear it anywhere public now if you paid me a great sum of money. I have not gained weight but I have lost my waistline - does that make sense? I wrote to my doctor - doesn't the fact that I'm the same weight but much fatter in the middle mean that I must have lost bone? And she replied comfortingly, perhaps you've just lost muscle.

The dress seven years ago, in Provence. It does not fit the same way now. But I notice that what's in my glass is the same. Must have had back pain then too.

Hooray! Getting old is going to be so much fun. At least I can take you along with me. Here we go.

PS More of life's pleasures. The Tuesday farmer's market at Riverdale Farm - the best sourdough bread, smoked salmon like sweet butter, light and dark carrots. And last night, I decided to spend time listening to my records, especially the classical ones inherited from Uncle Edgar, aficionado of the Baroque, a Bach man. The Bach double concerto for violin and oboe - sublime, especially the second movement. Such gifts. This isn't the best interpretation, but you get the idea.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rSfb0r_xPec