(no subject)

Canberra friends - I'm cancelling my Purim party. It's partly the burning-off they're doing right now: I'm having an interesting reaction to it. It's mostly, though, because I don't want to jubilate while I'm in mourning. It hurts inside to even think of it.

Next year, I promise.


PS We have rain now, which means my reaction to the smoke should start diminishing very soon.

(no subject)

I've got to the stage with the week where the only thing I can do is laugh or cry. Two very bad things, one very good thing: that's the pattern. The week has sustained this pattern since Saturday. At least I get the very good things!

I'm going to save all the good news and announce it at once, when I'm through this week. The week after the death of someone close is a pig of a place. It doesn't help that this is one of the strangest weeks I've had in my rather unusual lifetime. I'm very grateful for the good things. Very, very grateful.

I can now talk about my cousin's death - everyone has been told. I still don't know anything, however. I still have one group of people to warn that I might have to take off suddenly for the funeral.

And I'm trying to remember to eat.

I keep thinking that I'd like to give you a story about David.

He was in the public service at the same time I was. One day he rang me up and told me I should be very proud of him.

"Why?" I asked. I had a sinking feeling, because he had a clever-as-Punch tone to his voice. When I was in my teens, that clever-as-Punch tone almost always meant that he'd done something that would get him into trouble. Something clever, and funny, but not entirely sensible.

"I made a phone call," he said. He knew how to keep me hooked. I had to gently coax the tales of his misdeeds out of him. With me, if I do something, it all comes in a rush, before anyone's ready to listen. David was a brilliant spinner of yarns. Put him in a group of kids and those kids would be entranced for hours.

"What sort of phonecall?"

"Well, he said, "I rang our office on the other side of Melbourne and asked them to put me through to the office in Sydney. I got them to put me through to Brisbane. Brisbane put me through to Darwin. When I reached the Darwin people I explained that I had called the wrong office and asked if I could be put through to Broome. Broome put me through to Alice and Alice put me through to Perth. Perth had me on hold for a bit, but finally put me through to Adelaide. Adelaide found the number I wanted and put me through to the guy at the desk next to mine. I asked him 'Do you know where I'm calling from? Because I'm not quite sure.'"

Ave atque vale.