On A Silver Sun
Snow overnight again. It lay quite deep this morning, deep enough that, even though it was wet snow, there’s still plenty lying around. It also makes things slippery enough that I’m reluctant to risk a walk around the hill.
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For most of the day I’ve been thinking about the work in progress and particularly the chapter I’ve got bogged down in. My solution was to print it off and set to work with a red pen, looking to sort out the text as it is and, possibly, slip paragraphs in to regulate the pacing a bit more. Sometimes it’s the only way. I did once get into a similar situation with a novella and solved it by tracing back to the point where I thought it went awry and deleting everything afterwards to continue afresh. Sometimes you just have to cut your losses, but I don’t think I need to do that with this one.
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I had an interesting conversation with my doctor earlier. Ostensibly the reason for the call was just to follow up on whatever it was that laid me low around new year. As it happens, time and antibiotics did the trick. Anyway, we got chatting and he said something that hadn’t occurred to me before: so many people now have smart watches and Fitbits, that they are phoning their doctors about perfectly normal things that they didn’t know or hadn’t noticed previously, such as fluctuations in resting heart rate or blood pressure through the course of the day. Couple that with everyone currently being aware of every twinge or cough, then it results in an upswing in doctors having to reassure people that they are normal (cur Bonzo Dog Band earworm)
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After a few days of paying attention, I haven’t tracked the news today. The Covid numbers are still horrible; the President of the USA did not deliver a stream of bile and invective overnight on Twitter.
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Music: One of George Harrison’s semi-forgotten compositions for the Beatles, recorded in June 1967, a three-minute version was shunted onto the Yellow Submarine soundtrack. Yellow Submarine (1968) is one of the first films I remember seeing (The first was Thunderbirds Are Go, 1966). That was in the days when the programme ran continuously, so when the film finished you could sit in the dark and wait for everything to play again, and we did. The film was released not long before my ninth birthday.
For reasons I don’t understand, this song was critically panned on release. Listening now, it sounds a long way ahead of its time, and there’s a lot going on. On headphones you can hear RIngo being brilliant on the choruses, punctuating the spaces around the beat.
It’s All Too Much
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