Lily Brett's Blog, page 9
May 14, 2013
May 8, 2013
If you walk along 29th Street between Fifth and Sixth avenues,...
If you walk along 29th Street between Fifth and Sixth avenues, in New York, you pass one store after another that sells everything you never needed. The problem is that I find so much of it irresistible. I have no need for any of the products in any of the stores. Yet I am almost hypnotized by what is for sale in this street. One of the stores sells glittering, beaded handbags. The sort you would take to a ball or to the opera. I don’t go to balls, although I have had the odd fantasy of going to a ball, in Vienna, in the ball season. And the last time I went to the opera was over a decade ago. One of the bags had what looked like the face of an owl on the front. It was particularly hard to walk past that bag.
A few doors down you could buy bags with the fake gold-coated skeletal bones of a human hand on the front. They looked so weird and were weirdly compelling. I had to drag myself past that shop.
May 1, 2013
My study, which once only contained things related to writing,...
My study, which once only contained things related to writing, has, since my shoulder surgery, metamorphosed into a rehabilitation clinic. I used to instantly remove anything extraneous, like newspapers or magazines, from my study. I used to remove ballpoint pens that had inadvertently migrated there- I don’t like writing with ballpoint pens.
Since my surgery, I have had to live with the accoutrements of rehabilitation, weights, bands, an arm pedaling machine. I didn’t even know you could pedal with your arms. For months I have been so focused on recovering the use of my right arm that none of the clutter bothered me.
This morning, I said to my very good physiotherapist, Ben Gold, a young Australian, that the extra stuff in my study was driving me mad. This made me realize that if I could feel so irritated by the mess in my study, I must be much better. And I am.
April 23, 2013
A friend who spotted me in the West Village took this shot and...
A friend who spotted me in the West Village took this shot and emailed it to me. The West Village is a very pretty part of New York and this garbage-laden photo doesn’t do it justice. What was I doing? I had just been to see my friend Donna… Green’s pottery exhibition. I loved the work and was making myself a note of my response. I write notes all the time. This chest of drawers that someone was throwing out provided a perfect writing surface for me.
April 21, 2013
April 16, 2013
I am now carrying a much smaller handbag than I have for years....
I am now carrying a much smaller handbag than I have for years. I was actually forced to scale down the size of my handbag by not being able to take much weight on my recently repaired shoulder. Over the years I tried to cull down the contents of my large handbags. It never worked. Almost everything I removed went straight back in the bag again. Even a packet of about fifty small, gold-colored safety pins which I seemed to have carried around for years, suddenly seemed essential. Safety pins? What part of me did I think was going to come apart? It wasn’t easy making the transition to the smaller bag, I looked at what had come out of the big handbag I had been carrying. Apart from the safety pins, there was a pair of scissors, a nail file, a rain hat, peppermint lifesavers, a subway map, a flashlight, an umbrella, ten, yes ten, pens, one fluorescent pink highlighter pen with a post it note dispenser at one end of the highlighter, two erasers, three pencils, two notebooks, three packets of Kleenex tissues and a list of everyone in my building’s contact details. I also had my wallet and two small purses for coins. And five packets of hand warmers as my hands get very cold in winter. Each hand warmer lasts for six hours so the likelihood of using more than one packet of hand warmers a day is slim. Twenty- three Ricola cough drops were also in the bag. I don’t cough that often. Why did I think I needed twenty- three cough drops? For that matter I’ve never had to use a flashlight or scissors when I am out in New York City and I have never called any of the other tenants of the building I live in, from outside the house. Ten pens, two pencils and three erasers suggests I might suddenly write a novel while I am out walking, something that is both highly unlikely and impossible. What does all this say about me? I don’t even want to think about that right now.
April 10, 2013
I am going to remember this period of post shoulder surgery...
I am going to remember this period of post shoulder surgery rehabilitation as endlessly doing rehab exercises or having physiotherapy sessions and also as having an irrational and irresistible desire to bake strudels. Suddenly I wanted to encase everything in pastry. I made turkey strudels and curried beef strudels with almonds and raisins. This is a chicken and ginger strudel. I now have a lot more mobility and can type with greater ease so I think my strudel baking days might be over, which is just as well as I have no more room in my freezer.
