Misha - update
12 July 2005
Misha’s home. Very quiet and sleepy - indeed, we dozed together on the sofa, and grumbled when each other moved - but at least she’s home, and standing straight when she can be bothered to stand, and getting her voice tuned up nicely. It occurred to me to wonder, if we go from crotchety to quavery in our age, what are we before that - minimal?
It occurred to the vet at one stage to wonder if she had a brain tumour. I was happy to disabuse him on that one. Insufficient brain to tume, I said.
Nothing else worth reporting today, just more critical comment from America. This is getting to be like the movies, where everybody has an opinion and every opinion demands a rewrite, so you move further and further from the original (in every sense) concept towards a conformable mean. I never wanted to write movies, for that exact reason; I feel like I’m losing touch with my ideas entirely, in the apparently endless need to suit exactly what people think the market wants just now. And the one sure thing is, they’ll be wrong; by the time anything gets to market, the mood will have shifted and people will be wanting something else.
The difference, of course, is that in the movies you get paid to do the rewrites. Looks like one more of my really, really bad choices...
© Chaz Brenchley 2005
Reproduced here by permission of Chaz Brenchley, who asserts his moral right to be identified as the author of this work.