Every week my cleaning lady laments how fast the time flies. It really does fly, no doubt about it. Doris Lessing said in one of her novels that this is an age-related thing, related also to the way our concept of time as the fourth dimension is linked to to the three dimensions of length, breadth and depth. You should read her thoughtful comments for yourself -- if my memory is reliable you'll find them in The Golden Notebook.
So I'll paste here the "Annual Report and Seasonal Greetings" that I fired off by email to family members and friends scattered around the world --
Seasonal Greetings and Annual Report, 2016
Greetings to my family, friends and neighbours!
2016 has been the quietest year of my life yet, so I have very little news to report. I gave up driving early in the year, and once a week a ‘Personal Care Worker’ drives me to the neighborhood supermarket, on a hunt-and-gather expedition. Most of the rest of the week I spend in my comfortable apartment, surrounded by beloved books, many of which I’m rereading. My daughter Rebecca and her husband Richard call in to see me several times each week, and cook a tasty meal for me on one of these visits. A lady from Abbottsford House (our neighbourhood community centre) comes weekly to cook another excellent meal. My sons David and Jonathan phone me several times every week, and visit me when they come to Ottawa. I hear from my grandchildren too, often enough to know we are plugged into each other’s circuits.
In emails I’ve mentioned the children’s story I began writing in 2014. I’d forgotten all about this story until I was reminded by finding a mention of it in my beloved Wendy’s diary for 1962. I made up this story to relieve the boredom our two toddlers, Rebecca and David, complained about on a long sea voyage back to Australia in1962 after a year in London. Somewhere in the Indian Ocean, between the Red Sea and the Western Australian coast we ran out of children’s books to read to them. The kids mutinied when I suggested reading Winnie the Pooh to them yet again. They demanded that I make up a story. Remembering the parrot that sat on the shoulder of Long John Silver in Robert Louis Stephenson’s adventure story Treasure Island, I made up a story with that parrot as the leading character. I didn’t write it down in 1962, and when I began to write it in 2014, the characters came to life in my head and took over their story. Soon I had a story of about 35,000 words, about the length of Treasure Island. It’s been great fun to write this story. Now I’ve found a publisher, who is helping me to identify an illustrator. Unless there are unforeseen hitches, this book should be published in about 6 months. It’s suitable for children aged 8-12, and I’ve had favourable feedback from several children in this age group, who’ve read it.
In September I had my 90th birthday. I was born in 1926, the same year as Fidel Castro, Marilyn Monroe, and our lady sovereign Queen Elizabeth II, among other distinguished people. We had several celebrations, including a spectacular one at the medical school when former students and colleagues said and wrote all sorts of kind things about me. I have a PDF record of this event, a sort of ‘festschrift,’ and will be happy to send this to you if you’d like to see it.
Yours ever,
John
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