

It’s ridiculous how chuffed I am about this plant blooming. Like getting a “You are worthy” from the universe at large.
Took me three weeks but I finally got the VA consult to see the doc who did the total knee replacement. I should have gotten a copy of the CT and plain film x-rays that the VA did and taken them with me, but just didn’t have the inertia (Newton’s second law). I got in to see the doc’s PA Thursday (I would have had to wait until the 10th to see the doc). I’m supposed to get a bone density scan. I knocked back an awful lot of prednisone between January and October of last year, and that can have effects on bone density. Like I told the PA, I want to nip the cause of my knee pain in the bud, whatever it is, if at all possible. I already have three risk factors for osteoporosis (age, sex, race). I need to stay as mobile as I can as long as mom is alive, so I can take care of her.
I’m pretty sure I have plantar fasciitis in both heels, but much worse on the left, but PT fixes that and I know what those exercises are. I’m also sure it’s a function of not being on my feet very much because of my left knee. Bette Davis said, “Old age ain’t for sissies,” and she ain’t wrong. The entire bummer about the situation is that my body is about 50 years older than my mind . . .
My BFF is a graphic artist. Her brain is “eye-wired.” She is a very visual person — shapes, colors, textures. Her mode of relaxation is binge watching TV and movies, mostly for the CGI and the visuals. My brain is “ear-wired” and “word-wired.” I love all kinds of music from all over the genres and all over the world. Doesn’t matter. (for example) I like stuff that would drive my mom nuts in a New York minute — bagpipes, sitar, oud, gamelan. There are voices that just melt my knees (the late John Gielgud, Sam Elliott, Stephen Fry) I made a living listening to people talk and typing what they said (medical transcription). I put my head into a book the way my BFF puts her head into movies and TV. Which is why there hasn’t been any knitting news.
I’ve been rereading C. J. Cherryh’s Foreigner series of which there are currently 21 books. (There’s a new Foreigner book due out in September.) They follow the career of translator Bren Cameron as he mediates between humans and the alien Atevi. This is the third or fourth reread I’ve done of this series and I gain new insights into the books with each rereading. I know what’s going to happen and I still can’t put them down!
Cherryh’s forte is world building. Her societies, both human and alien, hang together beautifully. She not infrequently juxtaposes human society against an alien society to highlight insightfully different aspects of human society. One of her themes in the Foreigner books is how one’s cultural context and the expectations it sets up get in the way of cross cultural interactions (both between different human cultures, and human and alien cultures). Two other series of hers that do this are the Chanur series (five books) and the Faded Sun trilogy. (If you are a “cat person,” you should read the Chanur books!)
After I get done with Foreigner, I plan to start on a reread of the Sebastian St. Cyr series by C. S. Harris (17 books) which has a new book coming out this month. These are murder mysteries set in Regency England during the Napoleonic era. The author has a Ph.D. in 19th century European history, so she gets all the little details of that time and place right. Her books are set within and around the historical events of the time, and use that context to address sociological and economic issues that are still relevant today. Her characters are well rounded and very real. It’s a cross between Sherlock Holmes, Georgette Heyer, John Le Carre and time travel. You have French spies and English aristocrats (St. Cyr is a viscount), murder, family drama, forbidden love and unexpected romance against a broad historical backdrop. What’s not to like?
As with any long running series of books, do yourself two favors and start with the first one: Foreigner by C. J. Cherryh, and What Angels Fear by C. S. Harris.