Vomit over. I spent much of the day on the couch while the convalescing children seemed increasingly to have more energy than me. I re-read gardening magazines and decided I want to paint our outside table yellow and did some garden re-arranging in my head.
Then Past Judgement: Social Policy in New Zealand History arrived and now I am considering ideas like 'changing conceptions of need' across a range of contexts. It is a pleasure to read such thoughtful, intelligent prose as in this book. I guess I spend so much of my non-fiction reading time on op-ed style short texts which pale by comparison with this product of months and years and sometimes decades of research, thinking and writing. Our Blackball exhibition on care workers will be squarely focused on the workers themselves, but I want a sense of the wider issues in which their real, individual lives play out. There are another half dozen or more books in the footnotes which look very interesting but I will be ruthless - less dreaming and more interviewing once I've read this book and the other one I have ordered.
Confined to the house for the better part of three days, I imagine that when life turns away from nursing to something erroneously known as 'normal', I will burst forth with energy and find the discipline to go walking each morning before 7am. Ha ha ha. Certainly if I wait until after the kids are at school and kindy, I'll never fit walking in.
In the garden collecting leaves for my salad this morning, I heard a distinctive crowing that I've been listening for for weeks now. Indeed, there were two eggs in the coop. Both very soft shelled, and one broken because of the extreme thinness. I recall that the kinds of eggs are irregular at the beginning of laying, but I threw in extra handfuls of grit all the same. By next weekend, we could be back to eating our own poached eggs for Saturday breakfast.
Still no actual gardening, even though the outside weather has been superb here.