under another sun

So the flu drags on, giving us time to ruefully contrast what most people call 'a flu' with the real thing. We ventured outside though, for the first time since Christmas Eve. Where were the walls? Where was the ceiling? It was very strange. To the supermarket and despite Lorraine's repeated dizzy spells, we managed to load up the car with essentials and get home. Spent the afternoon recovering wanly from these exertions. We'd bought the fixings for a fisherman's pie and from these Lorraine constructed a potatoey pie marvel. In the evening the streamy, sneezing returned in full force and, absurdly, one violent sneeze whiplashed my neck so badly that I got agonising pains spreading across my shoulders and now have a sore neck too. Otherwise a melee of TV, podcasts, and listening to Boneland by Alan Garner, as an audiobook. A challenging read, which is an adult book, which is a fifty years on sequel from Garner's Children's books The Weirdstone of Brisin...

Permission to flop Snuffling on my way down from Anton's house the night before. Woke up disoriented and feverish in the middle of the night, and read for an hour and a half. Gave myself the day off, sitting on the sofa reading Alan Garner's first two books The Wierdstone of Brisingamen , and then half of The Moon of Gomrath . These children's books are rooted in Norse, Celtic and Arthurian legends, which creates a world that overlaps somewhat with Tolkien's. It has been decades since I read them, and they are nicely crafted. Garner's reputation deserves to be much greater: there are moments of great flair and real rootedness in Cheshire. Will re-read Elidor again next, I remember this one far more clearly as it is set largely in Manchester. The juxtaposition of things like bus conductors, iron railings, TVs with a disturbing magic from the past is wonderful. Normally a coldy bug corresponds with working in London, or having a surfeit of work, it was an absolute lux...