Today's the last day of my NT attachment. It's been a sincere sensation. There's that old quote, which for the present purpose I shall gender-transpose: "What my husband doesn't understand is, when I'm looking out of the window, I'm working." Eight weeks of looking out the window. Marvellous. There's a particular atmosphere here, very conducive, and that's down to the staff, artists and others, who are without exception as hospitable and supportive as an incomer could wish.
In memoriam, here are some notes I took, towards some scenes for something I'm not now going to write, having since taken rather a different tack (all that looking out the window you see). But I like the list as a thing in itself (and some of the ideas persist).
James Joyce introduces
Crusoe and Moll
A Garden in Newington
The Queen Goes To The Toilet And Washes Her Hands
The Pillory (Dead Kittens)
Anyone in from Colchester?
A Tempest Off Great Yarmouth
Mary Goes To Nottingham
Bricks and Fire
Sophia and the Lip Reader
The Invention of the Guillotine
Robinson and the Moor
Also in memoriam, eighteen years ago today I took the bus up to the John Radcliffe Hospital in Oxford, to be told that the results of my scan were very encouraging and that by the end of my course of chemotherapy I should certainly expect to be free of the disease. Hodgkin's, that is. I remember the feeling very well, as I left the building and looked up at the blue spring sky.