With our daughter still home on university vacation we were put under great pressure last night and gave in. We watched Grey’s Anatomy. Actually, I’d been intending to watch it for ages. After all, it’s the most watched television show and as a creator of popular fiction I should keep abreast of trends etc.
Then again, there are often really great shows on the ABC on Sunday night and I have to say that after only one viewing, the jury on Grey's A is still out in this household. Sure Dr. McDreamy is very dreamy. And I love the Japanese doctor. I know it only takes three consecutive viewings of a soapie to get hooked, so I may succumb yet. Will see.
Meanwhile, the fourth book in Susan Wiggs’s Lakeshore Chronicles arrived today and I can’t wait to
read Snowfall at Willow Lake. Susan W writes the most wonderfully warm and real, funny and moving single title books -- very close in tone to the Romance line, but with the greater character detail and plot complications that you would expect from a much bigger book. I learn so much from reading her work and like most writers, I crave inspiration.
Problem is, I can't really start reading now as I have a very scary deadline looming fast and I’ve been terribly distracted over the summer.
So it’s head down now and Sophie and Noah’s story may have to wait. Sigh…
I’ve had rather a mixed week. There have been a couple of lovely social occasions, including a gorgeous lunch to farewell one of my friends who is (sadly, for us) leaving town. Another friend’s husband did the cooking and everything was superb, especially a dish they call bugamundi. This is a combination of Moreton Bay bug (a small crayfish) and barramundi (a delicious fish, famous in North Queensland). These were stir-fried together with chilli and (many more things no doubt). Yummo!!
At the lunch, my friends, all teachers, shamed me into upping my exercise routine. My walks along the Strand are not enough. I should be “doing the hill”. The hill is Townsville’s famous
Castle Hill and I used to walk up there with them but have slackened off in recent years.
“Let me practise on my own first,” I said, worried that I would be embarrassingly out of nick.
So on Wednesday morning I did the hill. I walked by road all the way from where I live (most people drive to the foothills), and I went to almost the top and was pleased that I managed this without any horrific gasping and panting. Then, as I neared the top and saw the place where the “goat track” joins the road, I was inspired to go down the goat track.
Big mistake.
I was about a quarter of the way down when I remembered that the last time I did this, I ended up in agony, but it was already too late to turn back. No way could I climb UP all those stairs. The goat track has hundreds of rough rock stairs and it's perched precariously on the edge of the hill. My thighs, by this time, were feeling distinctly shaky. My graduated lenses made it hard to judge these uneven steps and I tripped and nearly fell off the mountain on at least three occasions. I was terrified and exhausted.
Eventually, I made it home. But the round trip took two hours. And I soaked in a Radox bath instead of stretching… so you can guess the result.
Yes, screaming tight thigh and calf muscles for the rest of the week.
Of course, the view from the top is almost worth the pain. But I'm sure Phillipa Ashley would tell me that I should have known better than to do the goat track alone. (Read her book Decent Exposure to find out why:)
There have been other nice social events this week. My writing is chugging along – too slowly – but it is chugging. And I read The Camomile Lawn by Mary Wesley. Loved it so much I’ve ordered another of hers – Not That Kind of Girl.
Have started reading Summer at Willow Lake by Susan Wiggs. I really enjoy Susan Wiggs and this book is a finalist in this year’s RITA.
Will restart my exercise routine again… tomorrow.
