Death March Recon
Ride Hike Meds
I have mentioned my recent health-related adventures; adventures that a bolder blogger than I might craft into a worthy saga entitled “Return of the Phlegm.”
I may also have mentioned that I A) was attempting to try the “wait it out” approach and B) that I was feeling much better.
So, after hacking my lungs out overnight, I went to see our friendly neighborhood nurse-practitioner yesterday. Turns out my “wait and see” approach actually amounted to a “wait and get bronchitis” approach. Perhaps not such a great plan after all.
Also, it appears that I have been at least mildly delusional, essentially saying to myself the equivalent of, “No, no, don’t trouble yourself about me, I’m perfectly fine.”
Needless to say, my new strategy for Death March prep is Finish This Astounding Array of Meds and Maybe Ride The Bike. And also read Dorothy Sayers.
Until this year, I have not really been a fan of mystery novels. In short, many of them are engaging only if you don’t have this pesky tendency to figure out whudonit roughly around page thirty. During her visit, however, my Mom introduced me to a mistress of mystery named Tana French whose debut novel, In The Woods proved quite enjoyable even though I pegged the mastermind behind the murder under investigation the first time that individual appeared on the page.
In short, Ms. French makes her characters interesting and engaging; they are neither stock characters (which, I hasten to add, can work perfectly well when paired with a truly exceptional plot) nor so many Mary Sues. Her plot, too, proved engaging, even without the element of “mystery.”
I mentioned to Mom how much I enjoyed Ms. French’s book — in fact, for Christmas, I gave her two more of Ms. French’s works. In return, she sent me a copy of Dorothy Sayers’ Nine Tailors, an engaging mystery story in which even I managed not to quite sort out all the threads before the late, great Ms. Sayers saw fit to unravel them. (Her characters, by the way, initially appear to support my thesis about those of the stock variety, though they do gather momentum and complexity as her story unfolds).
Anyway, between marathon bouts of sleep, I have been greatly enjoying the late, great Dorothy Sayers, and that remains my current training modality: mystery novels. We’ll call it “tapering,” eh?
Anyway, that’s it for now. Either because I am still a bit feverish or else because of the whopping great pile of medications I’m taking, I’ve a wicked headache and I think I’m going to go watch bad TV shows and maybe eat popcorn.