On what started off as a fairly normal day, there is nothing like being pushed unceremoniously into an ambulance and spending twenty-six hours in an Emergency ward attached to an incredible number of needles, wires, drips and a blood-pressure machine, to make one appreciate being back at work! Work, for me, is sitting at the computer doing anything other than writing my own stuff. My greatest pleasures are writing books and painting pictures …both mostly seated.
You can tell that I am not a great fan of jogging, walking – or in fact having anything to do with the great outdoors (except for dipping in the pool on hot Spanish summer days).
On second thoughts, perhaps I am exaggerating. I do enjoy going out for meals – and while I’m out I might enjoy a bit of shopping. I used to enjoy playing Badminton in Singapore, when I was younger and fitter, but within a year or two of returning to England (c.1967) I caused my team to lose a match against an Oxford college by tearing a calf muscle. It was weeks before I was able to do anything other than sit …which is where I came in. I had no computer then of course but I did write my first book with pencil and pad, in bed, inspired by my devoted dachshund who refused to leave my side and kept nudging my writing arm. Deciphering it all to produce a typewritten copy took me longer than it had to scribble! I actually managed to illustrate it and one day, when I have nothing else to do, I will transfer it to my computer – until then it remains an unpublished “AutobiDography”…
Meanwhile, thanks to the efficiency of all the hospital staff – their kindness and patience with my lack of Spanish – I am here sitting happily at my computer again. I am tempted to obey instructions to ignore ‘work’ and get back to book five, but my conscience is already working overtime, so I ask myself, which will distress me more: to be working or not working?
To be or not to be?
That must be plagiarism – am I losing my grip?