Doing more

A recent ad in TLS for Eric's book on the storied (as he shows) First Folio and also the series he worked on with Jonathan Bate. How brilliant his career has been; I knew it when I asked him to join Nick, Hardin and me in creating the New Variorum Hamlet project. He had a temporary job, then, but his future was clear to many, including me. Come back, Eric!
E's beautiful family this summer in Vermont. I have never met the family, but have heard about
them over the years.

Dear friends and family,

I love it when the families of friends, especially fellow Shakespeare, become part of our lives. We had the pleasure of meeting Eric's wife and his children, visiting their beautiful homes in Orinda and London; I am sorry we no longer see them all. We enjoy the friendship of Jesús and his extended family: we've been in Spain; they've been here—of the Willems and, by proxy, their children and grandchildren—of Nick and his wife Chrissy, so hospitable to us in Vermont—to Hardin and Amy, whom we have enjoyed seeing in many venues. And that's just part of the New Variorum connection. There are so many more, the thought of whom bring a smile to my face.

In spite of difficulties.

We found from my CT-Scan that my lungs had been invaded by

Extramedullary hematopoiesis, as Wikipedia describes it “a condition frequently associated with pathologic processes. For example, it can be caused by myelofibrosis,” which is what I have. As I understand it, my body, both the red circle blotches on my legs (and arms) and this development in my lungs, is trying very hard to compensate for my bone marrow's failures. Breathing is hard.

But I have more energy to do things; I made spinach pancakes this morning. Sat on my red stool chair at the counter, chopped fresh spinach, mixed in eggs and egg whites to completely moisten and more, and about 1/2 C grated Gruyere cheese to absorb some of the egg. I made pancakes until all the spinach was used up. I have not been able to do such a chore for about a month, since returning from the hospital with the infection I caught there. But my plan to move on to hamletworks.org is frustrated by the fatigue caused most likely by my breathing problem. I am heartened by the fact that at least I want to turn to the works on my desk, ignored for so long. Tomorrow I need not cook anything (the fridge is full), and will try to do some NV work.

Yesterday, Merwin and Laury went to see "War Horse," the highly esteemed play at Lincoln Center. When I ordered the tickets, I was feeling up to such a jaunt, but not now. I need to be close to home. It's quite lovely that I enjoy their pleasure in the outing without feeling at all that I have missed something important. I was kept company for a while by my dear friend Phyllis, who took me for my walk: I dare not go alone around my little block; I am too shaky on my feet to do that. So I depend on the kindness of friends whom I commandeer to accompany me. Merwin can't do it because my pace makes his bad hip hurt.

On Friday, Cantor Eric came to visit. He accompanied me happily on my walk and then chatted with me (and Merwin when he arrived from his long walk at the water side) until I became too tired. I now sit with company in the living room, close to my bedroom, and, when I need to, I retreat.

Politics are still fascinating to me—and I enjoy Book TV and other programs on C-Span2. Merwin reads to me while I rest.

And so it goes. Ups and downs, mostly the inevitable slide. But I am still smiling. Daytime is good. Thinking of all of you is good.

Love to all,

Bernice