Friday, March 28, 2014
Guess the location
This was taken in Edinburgh and there's a prize for anyone who can recognise the location. Except for you John B. That would be unfair now, don't you think?
"So" in Americanah
I picked up a copy of Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie's latest book Americanah in Waterstones the other day. I haven't read it yet but if it's anything as good as her previous novel Half a Yellow Sun it will be a good read. Incidentally Half a Yellow Sun has been filmed and is soon to be released, so looking forward to that. Chiwetel Ejiofor, the guy from 12 Years a Slave, stars along with Thandie Newton so should be worth a few hours of your time. But I strongly recommend reading the book first.
Anyway I mention Americanah because as I was browsing through it I noticed this passage:
It was convincing, the accent she had perfected, from careful watching of friends and newscasters, the blurring of the t, the creamy roll of the r, the sentences starting with "So", and the sliding response of "Oh really", but the accent creaked with consciousness, it was an act of will. It took an effort, the twisting of lip, the curling of tongue. If she were in a panic, or terrified, or jerked awake during a fire, she would not remember how to produce those American sounds. And so she decided to stop, on that summer day, the weekend of Dike's birthday.
I seem to recall from a few posts back pointing out how so many folk on the old BBC, especially Radio 4, were using the word "so" to begin their sentences, just as the narrator has picked up on the same habit in New York, having recently arrived their from Nigeria. So (as it were) we hold our American cousins responsible for it all. As for so much.
Meanwhile my cancer treatment continues to progress slowly but surely to it's conclusion. Next Wednesday will be my fourth (of six) chemo infusions, so the home straight coming into view. My diabetes is not yet under control but it's a whole lot better. I get increasingly more tired as time goes on. It's hard to believe that I could get more tired but seemingly I can. And I'm told to expect more of the same between now and end of May. Oh joy......
Anyway I mention Americanah because as I was browsing through it I noticed this passage:
It was convincing, the accent she had perfected, from careful watching of friends and newscasters, the blurring of the t, the creamy roll of the r, the sentences starting with "So", and the sliding response of "Oh really", but the accent creaked with consciousness, it was an act of will. It took an effort, the twisting of lip, the curling of tongue. If she were in a panic, or terrified, or jerked awake during a fire, she would not remember how to produce those American sounds. And so she decided to stop, on that summer day, the weekend of Dike's birthday.
I seem to recall from a few posts back pointing out how so many folk on the old BBC, especially Radio 4, were using the word "so" to begin their sentences, just as the narrator has picked up on the same habit in New York, having recently arrived their from Nigeria. So (as it were) we hold our American cousins responsible for it all. As for so much.
Meanwhile my cancer treatment continues to progress slowly but surely to it's conclusion. Next Wednesday will be my fourth (of six) chemo infusions, so the home straight coming into view. My diabetes is not yet under control but it's a whole lot better. I get increasingly more tired as time goes on. It's hard to believe that I could get more tired but seemingly I can. And I'm told to expect more of the same between now and end of May. Oh joy......
Friday, March 21, 2014
Siri Post
I am sitting at my window dictating this into my iPad which I hope will type it all for me. This is a test to see if I can write a blog post simply by dictating it to my iPad
So far it seems to be working. Which quite frankly is incredible. Thanks to Apple's invention of something called Siri. I wonder what's next? Maybe someday Apple will be able to read my thoughts and type them with no input from me other than having the thought in the first place.
I can see the clouds coming down over the Pentland Hills. It would appear to be raining over there although the sun is shining and we might even get fine a afternoon. I shall have to go out shortly for my daily constitutional.
My cancer treatment is going well and I'm now well into my third cycle of chemotherapy. I'm still trying to get used to the fact that I won't have my scan until sometime in November but I think I've adjusted to it now. My only problem right now is that my diabetes has gone completely out of control and I will need to contact the hospital to see what I should do about it but I think I shall leave that until Monday.
Well the system seems to be working okay. I'm not sure that I like it very much but like everything else it will take some getting used to. That's all for now. I shall have to see if I can transfer this from this document to my blog.
Please excuse any grammatical errors in this piece. I hope it reads ok.
Well that seems to have worked. It's now in my blog. Enjoy.
Friday, March 14, 2014
"And no birds sing"
John Keats wrote La Belle Dame san Merci two years before he died of tuberculosis at the age of 25 in 1821. His mother died of tuberculosis when he was 14 and his younger brother had died of it in 1818. I think he knew he had the illness when he was writing the poem which he began in 1818. Which is why the knight was pale.
So in the first verse the knight was alone and palely loitering? The sedge has withered from the lake, and no birds sing. He goes on to repeat the same words in the last verse. I love that palely loitering having done a fair bit of loitering myself over the years in various and elsewhere. Can't wait to do some more loitering.
Th last four words and no birds sing say more than some people can say in a thousand. Absolutely the work of a genius and imagine what he would have achieved had he lived for longer. The words can be interpreted in so many ways, but he is obviously thinking of the death of his young brother and his mother and perhaps contemplating his own early death. He could have expressed the same thought in so many different ways, but he found those four little words to say it all. Quite remarkable.
I often think of the poem in my own current predicament so try to listen out for the singing birds every day. I will go back to hear the dawn chorus in the Dell in a few weeks. Should anyone want to join me you are welcome, though it will be an early start.
I'm told on good authority that the poem demonstrates Keats's use of " Negative Capability" in this poem. My good friend John L may give a wee explanation of what it all means and I will add it as a comment. I know you've explained it to me before John but a few short lines to illustrate it from this poem would not go amiss.
Keats was of course a big influence on Bob Dylan. See his song, one of my favourites, Not Dark Yet from the album Time out of Mind, which Professor Christopher Ricks compares to Ode to a Nightingale. Have a listen and a read and see for yourself.
My cancer treatment continues apace. I had my third intravenous dose of chemo on Wednesday this week. No delays this time round, as white cells were behaving themselves and recovering at a good rate. The process lasted from 10 to 4:30 as they decided to slow down the infusion to four hours rather than two. I also have to have various other infusions at the same time which is why I'm there for six and a half hours. It's an exhausting process.
I saw Dr McLean, my oncologist yesterday and she seems quite happy with our progress. That's me half way through with the infusions and on target to finish at the end of May, providing white cells continue to behave. I had thought that I would be having a scan at the end of the chemo treatment but apparently not as my scan will not be done until the anniversary of my operation, which means 7 November at the earliest.
That's very disappointing news but not a lot I can do about it. It means more months of worry of course but will remain positive. She tells me that the fact that some lymph nodes and blood vessels had to be removed means a higher risk of cancer spreading elsewhere, which I think I knew but had managed to blank out for a while. She says that without the lymph node problem she would have been more confident, but still maintains her 70% chance of success. Even if I get a good result in November it will not be until scan on second anniversary that they will be more confident in predicting a cure, but even then will need scans until fifth year. Oh joy.
So in the first verse the knight was alone and palely loitering? The sedge has withered from the lake, and no birds sing. He goes on to repeat the same words in the last verse. I love that palely loitering having done a fair bit of loitering myself over the years in various and elsewhere. Can't wait to do some more loitering.
Th last four words and no birds sing say more than some people can say in a thousand. Absolutely the work of a genius and imagine what he would have achieved had he lived for longer. The words can be interpreted in so many ways, but he is obviously thinking of the death of his young brother and his mother and perhaps contemplating his own early death. He could have expressed the same thought in so many different ways, but he found those four little words to say it all. Quite remarkable.
I often think of the poem in my own current predicament so try to listen out for the singing birds every day. I will go back to hear the dawn chorus in the Dell in a few weeks. Should anyone want to join me you are welcome, though it will be an early start.
I'm told on good authority that the poem demonstrates Keats's use of " Negative Capability" in this poem. My good friend John L may give a wee explanation of what it all means and I will add it as a comment. I know you've explained it to me before John but a few short lines to illustrate it from this poem would not go amiss.
Keats was of course a big influence on Bob Dylan. See his song, one of my favourites, Not Dark Yet from the album Time out of Mind, which Professor Christopher Ricks compares to Ode to a Nightingale. Have a listen and a read and see for yourself.
My cancer treatment continues apace. I had my third intravenous dose of chemo on Wednesday this week. No delays this time round, as white cells were behaving themselves and recovering at a good rate. The process lasted from 10 to 4:30 as they decided to slow down the infusion to four hours rather than two. I also have to have various other infusions at the same time which is why I'm there for six and a half hours. It's an exhausting process.
I saw Dr McLean, my oncologist yesterday and she seems quite happy with our progress. That's me half way through with the infusions and on target to finish at the end of May, providing white cells continue to behave. I had thought that I would be having a scan at the end of the chemo treatment but apparently not as my scan will not be done until the anniversary of my operation, which means 7 November at the earliest.
That's very disappointing news but not a lot I can do about it. It means more months of worry of course but will remain positive. She tells me that the fact that some lymph nodes and blood vessels had to be removed means a higher risk of cancer spreading elsewhere, which I think I knew but had managed to blank out for a while. She says that without the lymph node problem she would have been more confident, but still maintains her 70% chance of success. Even if I get a good result in November it will not be until scan on second anniversary that they will be more confident in predicting a cure, but even then will need scans until fifth year. Oh joy.
Wednesday, March 05, 2014
Vernal Equinox
This morning I'm listening to Fred talking to Ruby Wax and I'm sure I've just heard her say "that's why guys get erections in lifts without thinking about it", which seemed to come out of nowhere and even had Fred flummoxed. How she knows is a mystery she doesn't explain. Maybe it's to do with hormones, or not apparently. Funny woman, I like her. And Fred. She's in Citizens Theatre, Glasgow this weekend for those of you in that lovely city. I would go myself but my present condition does not permit such adventures.
This morning Edinburgh is looking good, as usual, and I feel blessed to live here. The Pentland Hills are looking hazily inviting and I can't wait to be amongst them again. Soon I hope, and certainly before the end of 2014.
At long last Edinburgh has a statue to Robert Louis Stevenson, which was unveiled last autumn when I was in hospital. It's in the form of a sculpture of him as a young boy and is located outside Colinton Parish Church, where his grandfather was the minister, and where he used to spend his summers. I find it quite satisfying to think that RLS used to wander about my part of Edinburgh when he was a boy. It makes me feel closer to him, although I also see him in his house on Samoa as much as I see him in Edinburgh. The Samoans called him Tusitala, the teller of tales.
I mention the sculpture as I'm meeting my pal Roy for a coffee this afternoon, in Colinton, and we plan to go to see the statue, which will be first time I've seen it since it's unveiling by Ian Rankin in October 2013. So looking forward to that and might even post a photo on here for you if you're good.
I'm told on good authority that we are now into March, incredibly, which means it will soon be my birthday, which falls on the day of the spring equinox, here in Edinburgh at 16:57 on 20/03/2014. That's the equinox at 16:57, my birth was at 13:00 hours. I remember it well. So be sure to celebrate both these happy events, and I plan to be around to celebrate a lot more of them. If you have a bithday on the same day please let me know and we can celebrate together.
My treament continues as planned. More on that later. Lunch calls.
This morning Edinburgh is looking good, as usual, and I feel blessed to live here. The Pentland Hills are looking hazily inviting and I can't wait to be amongst them again. Soon I hope, and certainly before the end of 2014.
At long last Edinburgh has a statue to Robert Louis Stevenson, which was unveiled last autumn when I was in hospital. It's in the form of a sculpture of him as a young boy and is located outside Colinton Parish Church, where his grandfather was the minister, and where he used to spend his summers. I find it quite satisfying to think that RLS used to wander about my part of Edinburgh when he was a boy. It makes me feel closer to him, although I also see him in his house on Samoa as much as I see him in Edinburgh. The Samoans called him Tusitala, the teller of tales.
I mention the sculpture as I'm meeting my pal Roy for a coffee this afternoon, in Colinton, and we plan to go to see the statue, which will be first time I've seen it since it's unveiling by Ian Rankin in October 2013. So looking forward to that and might even post a photo on here for you if you're good.
I'm told on good authority that we are now into March, incredibly, which means it will soon be my birthday, which falls on the day of the spring equinox, here in Edinburgh at 16:57 on 20/03/2014. That's the equinox at 16:57, my birth was at 13:00 hours. I remember it well. So be sure to celebrate both these happy events, and I plan to be around to celebrate a lot more of them. If you have a bithday on the same day please let me know and we can celebrate together.
My treament continues as planned. More on that later. Lunch calls.
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