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Just wanted to chime in that I haven't heard anything this evening. Jack and I got to the hospital around 3:30ish. Mark was in the cardiac ICU as previously posted around 7:30 PM. When we left, not much had changed. He was sedated, had a 102-degree fever, but his vitals were somewhat improved. They'd uncovered him to help the temperature come down.
( Some difficult details under the cut )
Jack brought us pizza and salad for dinner. Kate and David brought playing cards. We left at 8:30. Elizabeth had her friend Joyce with her at the time. Austin (E's son), his dad and dad's girlfriend had gone for dinner. I had reached a point where I needed to get away.
I'll be checking in with Austin tomorrow morning and going to the hospital in the afternoon. I'll pass along whatever news I can get.
My apologies to those who want more frequent news. Beyond a certain point, it's just hours and hours of the same thing: waiting for him to stabilize. And I promise I'll post about that as soon as I hear it. Thanks to everyone for all the support and good thoughts.
If you're a qualified blood donor, Mark's blood type is O positive. Blood donations in his name would be a help.
That's it for tonight, friends. More news as I get it.
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I made a startling and tragic discovery last week. As I was moving a few books from my old office (what will soon be the baby's room) to a bookcase in the living room, I saw that several of my books were spotted on the spines with what looked like book mold, as aptly demonstrated above by my hardcover copy of Hal Duncan's brilliant novel Vellum. It's certainly not all of my books, and seems to be limited to those using cheaper-quality paper, but it's enough to be a concern.
This past week, I began reading Ian McDonald's Brasyl in paperback, which was also affected, but even after taking an allergy pill before each reading session, I got an itchy nose and watery eyes and had to put the book down. (I also had to put it down after 125 pages because all of the literary eyeball kicks were leaving me sore and exhausted.)
As a book lover, this makes me despondent. I spent considerable effort and expense to ship my books (the ones left over after the Second Chance Book Adoption sale in 2006 and 2007) from the US to Singapore, yet now that they're here, they've been soiled in such an unexpected way. Although with the tropical climate here, it's not so unexpected. Still, for someone who is loath to even write notes in a margin or dog-ear the pages, it's extremely disappointing. These were the books that I decided to keep, the ones that were rare enough, or that had meaning for me, or that I wanted to be able to read or refer to again, and they're being slowly eaten away by Singapore's humidity.
As a Buddhist, I should take this as a lesson in impermanence, as a demonstration of the way that certain things will not be around forever. Even such a solid-seeming and lasting object as a book will suffer from forces beyond my control. I could try to build a climate-controlled library that would keep the books in pristine condition, but I still would not be able to take them with me into the next life. Yet at the same time, I'm still fairly young, and hopefully have much of my life still ahead of me, and wish that I could enjoy these books for a long time to come. Sadly, for some of these titles, this will not be the case.
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The Tabard over dress
A close up of the whole ensemble
And now on to a few shirts and a gothic fitted gown in a pale blue linen.
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To celebrate the fortieth anniversary NASA has come up with an interactive version of the Apollo 11 moon landing site.
This way to Tranquility Base.
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I discovered today that I really, really like critiquing friends' manuscripts. I was reading a published book and wishing I could insert comments to the author, and with an unpublished draft, I can! Bwa ha ha!
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Everyone and his dog were at the market today, which I found annoying mainly because I had gotten up early to buy some Flathead cherries, only to get woefully skunked. Even so, I got some pretty tasty strawberries, tomatoes, basil, lettuce, peas, carrots, bison, bacon, eggs, cheese, butter, onions, cucumbers and potatoes. I picked up other groceries, dog food, and came home -- and promptly collapsed on the couch for a nap. So I didn't get any writing done.
Tonight, I worked on editing, because even though it takes brain activity, it doesn't require me to be creative.
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Sigh. How did I live in this house alone before? I'm sitting in bed, sewing and working in equal parts and I have a sweet little puppy snoozing on my feet.
Life is good :)
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Despair Inc makes laptop skins now.
It's like potato chips. I can't pick just one...
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Full of pie. So many kinds. Thank you, Phil.
Also I met some quite cool people. And got to swim, and hang out and laugh with Bork. And I saw lightning and drunken sailors and hot modelbody babes waving and jiggling around for some audience that probably didn't consist of me.
All the men there were under 40, so I asked them why, now I'm 53, I keep hearing from men I coulda borned. See, right before I left for Phil's Pie Night I had just gotten my 100th message on this dating site, and it was from a 34-year-old, which is so freakin typical. Phil didn't even have a good guess why. His friend Gord said it was a fad, like bacon.
Fads pass. Maybe someday soon it will be trendy for men to date women their own age.
Pie is the new bacon.
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I ate this burger because it was delicious.
Then I got this Slurpee because it was free. Look at the nipple on that thing. I know how to extrude a Slurpee. Walking on the beach tonight, we saw a sea creature. The news says it was part of a giant squid die-off, perhaps caused by an offshore earthquake. But they almost surely meant Humboldt or jumbo squid. Those are the kind that attack divers and fishermen. This one looked a bit like a human leg and wasn't in any kind of shape to be attacking anything. Sadly, I didn't have my camera with me.
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 In 1983, workers who broke an old house found a box with glass negatives and wantеd to throw them. Fortunately, among the workers was a student amateur photographer. He printed negatives and brought photos to the gallery of photography. The author of these pictures is unknown. All of them photographed in the city of Kaunas, Lithuania in the 30th years of the 20 th century ...
PS. There is a version that the author - well-known Lithuanian photographer and ethnographer Balys Buračas...
( +1 in original size... )
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