Dec. 18th, 2019

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Every time Wednesday goes by with my friends posting descriptions of what they have read or are reading, I wonder vaguely, "Why am I not reading more?"

The answer, of course, is that I am reading ALL THE TIME, but it's the same thing; the not-quite-finished novel that I'm writing and revising. Very occasionally I break out wildly and read sections of the books that it is a sequel to, but mostly I just read it, the oldest stuff, the middle stuff, the newest stuff, and shove it around until it looks right or my eyes cross, whichever comes first. Guess which comes first.

I think the last books I finished were all rereads: the entire Tony Hillerman series; Nevada Barr's first Anna Pigeon novel; and Hilary McKay's Saffy's Angel, because it's always time for that book, at least in my head. I'm going very slowly through an amazing collection of essays by Harriet Walter. People reading this journal are perhaps most likely to recall her as the person who played Harriet Vane in the actually good TV adaptation of some of Dorothy Sayers's novels. But she's had a long and very distinguished career on the stage as well. The book is called Brutus and Other Heroines, and I can't wait to read about her experiences playing in all-female casts of Shakespeare.

I am only as far as her discussion of Imogen in Cymbeline, which is riveting.

Finishing the book I'm writing would go further if things didn't keep getting in the way. I lost a lot of yesterday wrestling with the pharmacy system. Everybody in it was very helpful, except for me, as I had originally ordered a refill a bit late given when I would run out of medication, and then blithely assumed that the mail-order pharmacy would come through as fast as it usually does. I don't understand the Medicare prescription-drug pricing structure at all, but it results in my paying several hundred dollars for the first and last 90-day prescription of linagliptin every year, but only $47 for the middle two. (The plan I'm on pays about $1300 before I get socked with the remainder. Yikes.) The pharmacy always calls to make sure it's okay to charge my credit card for the expensive winter supply. I surmise from this that for a lot of people, probably one day including me, it is not okay, and therefore they aren't getting the medication they need. Thanks, Republicans. In any case, this time they were so busy they never did call me, so the prescription hung fire until I noticed it hadn't arrived, and then with rising alarm that the website still listed it as "being refilled." It all got straightened out, but this will teach me not to be sanguine about, well, anything.

My youngest brother was in town for a few days, and cooked us all a magnificent dinner. He is now a professional bass player, but for some years he was a professional vegetarian cook, and anything he provides is always delicious.

I will pretend there are five things up above, and make the post. My best wishes for a salubrious end to the year and for light in the darkness for all of you.

Pamela

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