I appear to have won an award of sorts. Or have been nominated for one. Or something.
(Yes, yes, as usual, interaction with the rest of the human race is leaving me bemused and slightly dysfunctional…)
Anyway, the deal is this. I display this logo-ey-thing and tell you some rivetingly interesting stuff about self. (No, there will be no pictures, not of me anyway…) And then do some other bits and bobs.
And now the list of things I must do:
1. Display the logo on your blog. Check.
2. Link back to the person who nominated you. That kind (and possibly delusional) soul is Anna Belfrage. (I should add that she’s offered me cake, Red Velvet cake, so I’m kind of partial to her…I’m sure you can see that…)
3. State 7 things about yourself.
4. Nominate 15 other bloggers for the award.
5. Notify your nominees.
So here’s the stating seven things about self. (Are these meant to be intimate details, I ask myself? Or things like, “I like broccoli”? Hmn, tough decision.)
One–The greatest thing I’ve achieved is living and learning to walk again. Two years ago, I was in hospital with a cornucopia of dread diseases and had no hope of survival. By late March, I was back home and determined to live and walk again. And I remember reading on FB people crowing about they’d written 200-million billion words that day, and I’d think, “Yes, but I took ten steps today. By myself.”
Two–I subsequently learned to ride again. Which was as hard or harder than the walking bit. But I have the dearest most wonderful friends, who insisted that I could do this. One got me on a dear and beloved horse I’ve known for years, and he walked me round and round the paddock. I didn’t tell him–perhaps I didn’t need to–that my greatest fear was that I couldn’t dismount, having lost all the muscles in my back and shoulders. It didn’t matter though, he lifted me off as though I weighed nothing and insisted I come again soon. I owe him and that horse my life. Without horses, I am nothing.
Other–so wonderful–friends insisted that I could and would hack out again. So once I’d mastered the rising trot again (took a few months) and the dismounting issue, they took me out on the Downs. And then there’s Tomtom, (he’s a horse, in case you hadn’t guessed.) He has, throughout this fight back to life, been my brother, my friend, my greatest supporter, the one who’s said when my body says no, “It’s okay, I’ll carry you…we’ll get there. Lean on me.”
Three–I don’t read German as well as I wish I did.
Four–I played the Pathetique Sonata by Beethoven when I was 13.
Five–I’m currently playing a lot of music by Einaudi. It was his Una Mattina (on my iPod) that kept me dreaming, hoping, praying, breathing, and plotting during the months of being in hospital…it kept me praying that I would write another novel with Boy Tirrell in it; every time I hear it, he is conjured up. So in so many ways, I owe Maestro Einaudi for, if not my life, then the return of my imagination and my literary ambitions.
Six–I really do like broccoli. And carrots. (Tomtom likes them more…) And peas. And cauliflower. Love ’em. But I hate, hate, hate broad beans. And hate more than anything asparagus!
Seven–Coming back to life is a very lonely place. You lose lots of friends. And the world you wake up to, the world you’ve fought like stink to be a part of again is rarely as you imagined it was. But I have had the great gift, the great pleasure, the great kindness of those who have loved my books encouraging me, supporting me (though they didn’t know it) and cherishing me. Thank you all so very, very much. Bless you.
Item 4. I don’t know 15 other bloggers. Honestly. But I’ll have a go listing those four I do know and admire–great friends and interesting authors.
5…I’ll just go do that now, shall I?