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Calliope's Achievements

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  1. M youngest son started school today :-( He's been so excited and counting down the sleeps... and I feel like I've had a limb amputated.
  2. After a 2 day heatwave (it was over 40C yesterday) I'm in front of an open window enjoying a cool breeze on a sunny day. Lovely. ... I'm also listening to the news, and waiting to hear about a cyclone that is basically going to blow Queensland over. Poor old Queensland. What a summer.
  3. I didn't even know The Godfather was a particularly successful book - let alone my birthday best seller. The French Lieutenant's Woman at no 2 does not embarrass me quite so much.
  4. Sometimes I think editors make changes just because they can... if those are the only edits you're getting, s/he must be really keen on your work over all. Tessa Hadley appeals to me for so many reasons. Most of them consist of her being the mother of 3 boys plus 3 stepsons - and still writing worthwhile stuff, in her forties. Slap on the back, you go girl sort of reaction from me. But I think many readers of Hilary Mantel or even Rose Tremain might find her subject matter a little limited. I don't mean to criticise her for having a narrow focus - as long as her lens is clear - but I'd like to see something a bit more ambitious from Hadley before comparing her to those very ambitious writers. Maybe not another Wolf Hall, though. One of those is enough ETA I do however think that having serious writers engage with domestic fiction is important!
  5. Gobsmacked. So sorry to read that, Hazel. After all that worry too!!! I'm definitely as suspicious as Meg about the surgeon's motives. But you're well clear of him. Any doctor who leaves it until that moment to decide what to do clearly doesn't have the patient's best interests at heart. Wishing you an easy sore-throat-free 6 months.... (and a second opinion)
  6. Thanks, Lucy PS I was just trying to get my puppy to notice your avatar. I think she'd only like it if it were edible.
  7. Lunch time here:) I already took myself out to my favourite cafe for reading and eating scones! Thanks, Megustaleer.
  8. Thank you! So far, it's been pretty good
  9. That was very much my experience of the op, when I had it as a child. A bad episode was very bad. And after the operation... Never again. You are, a bit! Get over yourself Seriously, good luck with it all. It's a bit scary, but you'll be so glad you went through with it.
  10. The fountains mingle with the river, And the rivers with the ocean, The winds of heaven mix forever With a sweet emotion; Nothing in the world is single; All things by a law divine In one another's being mingle;-- Why not I with thine? See the mountains kiss high heaven And the waves clasp one another No sister-flower would be forgiven If it disdained its brother; And the sunlight clasps the earth, And the moonbeams kiss the sea; What are all these kissings worth If thou kiss not me?
  11. Don’t you draw the Queen of Diamonds, boy She’ll beat you if she’s able You know the Queen of Hearts is always your best bet Now it seems to me, some fine things Have been laid upon your table But you only want the ones that you can’t get Desperado, oh, you ain’t gettin’ no younger Your pain and your hunger, they’re drivin’ you home And freedom, oh freedom well, that’s just some people talkin’ Your prison is walking through this world all alone
  12. Very safe... we're interstate and live on top of a ridge... getting home from anywhere means walking uphill, something I have a new appreciation for. Seeing my own old house underwater on TV was confronting enough that I'm still thinking about it days later. Living there, we were above the level of the 1974 floods and thought we were safe. But the waters rose differently this time and in Fig Tree Pocket, apparently came 1.3m higher than in 1974. I really feel for an old friend of mine who has been trying to sell her house. There was television footage of people rowing down the street.
  13. It's more than that, though - the way it's much more than the equivalent of legal testimony - it's an invitation for us to consider the very making of a story, the importance of what we say and how we say it. And how what we can say is even more important when society tries to censor it. What is there to truth and to testimony other than the words we can use to express it in? To me the distancing effect of the "Pereira maintains" statements is a reminder that the story of a man's life can amount to no more than what can be said about him. Pereira hires Rossi to write obituaries for significant writers who are still alive, but cannot print them because they go against the dominant political ideology of his times. Under fascism and under censorship, what people's lives mean in no longer something that can adequately be expressed. Pereira's own living obituary (which we are reading) is stifled too - but we can sense a truth beneath it. It's interesting that this book was first published in Italy in 1994 - the year of Berlusconi's election. As of 2009, Freedom House has rated the press in Italy as only "partly free" due to the conflict of interest between Berlusconi's political power and his degree of media ownership. But its political meaning is only one of the reasons this is an important book. Its engagement with the literary - with what it means to tell a story - is what I will remember most about Pereira Maintains.
  14. Awwww... thanks I took the photo while the puppy was looking out the back window at my oldest son mowing the lawn. I'm glad she got a good look - it's not something that he does very often David, the site is going to the dawgs.....
  15. The love of field and coppice, Of green and shaded lanes. Of ordered woods and gardens Is running in your veins, Strong love of grey-blue distance Brown streams and soft dim skies I know but cannot share it, My love is otherwise. I love a sunburnt country, A land of sweeping plains, Of rugged mountain ranges, Of droughts and flooding rains. I love her far horizons, I love her jewel-sea, Her beauty and her terror - The wide brown land for me! A stark white ring-barked forest All tragic to the moon, The sapphire-misted mountains, The hot gold hush of noon. Green tangle of the brushes, Where lithe lianas coil, And orchids deck the tree-tops And ferns the warm dark soil. Core of my heart, my country! Her pitiless blue sky, When sick at heart, around us, We see the cattle die - But then the grey clouds gather, And we can bless again The drumming of an army, The steady, soaking rain.
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