flemmings | (no subject)

The upshot of the many Interesting Medical Procedures of this month are that nothing malignant is growing in my colon, nothing at all is growing in my cervix or uterus, and the disintegrating dental bridge is not disintegrating more than it did in February so I may keep it for a while longer. Doctor wishes to speak to me about uterine polyp but as the spotting stopped once I started drinking soy again and the damnable dryness eased off, she can wait for the current work crises to end. Happy crises-- one staff getting married, another on maternity leave, a third with a new grandchild-- but short staffing nonetheless.

Speaking of malignancy, however: Monday the Frontlawn Library yielded me Burgess' Nothing Like the Sun and Allende's Eva Luna. I despise Burgess as I despise Amis, but hell-- it's about *Shakespeare*, how bad can it be? Very bad indeed. Tony, you are nowhere near as clever as you think you are and your male characters are Neanderthal louts. So it was nice to turn to the Allende, magic realism written by a woman for a change, with no raping generalissimos (well, not many) and no Spanish Whore/Mother silliness.

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Very glad to hear that you are free of malignant growths. If not malignant writers.

Writers one can at least avoid.

My best friends daughter is named Evaluna. Not exactly named for the book, but more a happy coincidence where everyone was quite puzzled by the name until the spanish grandmother said Allende and people all then nodded satisfied.

Am I thinking of someone else? I thought your friend's husband was French. It's still a nice name.