Autumn typically stresses my allergies to a point that many years I’ve been knocked down for a week or two with “flu-like symptoms,” as one physician diagnosed it. (Not that he had any magic shots or pills to speed my recovery.) Some rounds have meant being unable to stay awake long or finding myself chilled to the bone, unable to warm up. Shortness of breath, dizziness, and loss of appetite are also common. Responsible work, please remember, is out of the question.
A routine of preventative medications in the past decade or so has allowed me to largely elude the malady, but this year I’ve been hit.
As illnesses go, this is quite tolerable, as long as I’m not trying to do much of anything. It simply means lying low and drinking liquids.
An upside does appear, though: for me, it’s the reading orgy that can accompany the recovery.
Do other writers (or readers, for that matter) feel obligated to tackle certain periodicals or books before getting to our guilty pleasures? Or is it just me?
Don’t get me wrong. For instance, nobody forced me to subscribe at a bargain-basement rate to the New York Review of Books, but after several appeals, I caved in – and then the issues began to pile up.
I hadn’t really followed this periodical since the early ’70s and was curious to see how much it was sticking to its earlier biases. (Yes, I’m using that term.) Happily, I’m finding a broader range of thought than I’d remembered. What has taken some readjustment involves the depth of the articles. Each one carries an assumption that we are somehow conversant in an esoteric topic that is apparently an earmark of intelligence or a solid education or … well, I dive in anyway, realizing I seldom know enough to challenge the author’s line of argument. It feels like being swept along in a tide.
This is also reminding me of a hierarchy of intellectual discourse in writing.
If the New York Review of Books is at one level, the New Yorker seems to sit a step lower, and the New York Times on a step below that. New York and Vanity Fair magazines, along with the Boston Globe, Washington Post, and a handful of other newspapers sit a step lower – and they’re all well above the median level today. As for the rest of us out in the sticks?
Admittedly, I felt a little pressure here. My wife repeated her request I pass the issues on “when you’re finished,” and that meant intact editions rather than my usual filet strategy that cuts a magazine apart, clips out articles of interest, and pitches the rest. (Saves space, for one thing, and puts pieces I want to address in appropriate files, for another. Plus, in the old days, we used to mail clippings of interest to each other – remember that, back before email?)
Well, back to that matter of keeping up, especially when we have our own local and regional issues to address, in addition to our individual specialized interests.
I got caught up with the backlog of New York Reviews and a few other magazines. And then it was on to a stack of books. Huzzah! Huzzah! Without getting into the list, let me just say what a pleasure it is to read a volume straight through, within a day or two, as God or at least the author intended – rather than having to do it by bits and pieces over long stretches of time. (Do I need to mention there are many books around our house still waiting for the final, uh, consummation? Not all mine, by a long shot.)
Well, I am feeling better now, thank you, and there’s a long list of home repair and garden projects to do before cold weather kicks in. Life really depends on maintaining a balance, doesn’t it? Or is there a better way?
Jnana's Red Barn 
It not so much catching up on my reading as other things that remind me of my work ethic. I always feel like I should get my other work done and writing reports (my bread and butter) before I do what is really exciting which is writing about fungus, or moths, or vegetables and fruit. Two reports to write this week but even then I can’t have too much fun after they are done and mailed. The well pump is breaking down and it must be fixed when the new part arrives (this afternoon???).
Allergies, seasonal and otherwise, affect me rarely. Avoiding certain foods helps but pollen cannot be escaped. Over the years my immune system has learned to react less to pollen and mold spores. At this time of the year there is an odor everywhere as fallen leaves ferment that is both pleasant and possibly unhealthy.
Sounds like you’re alive in the season! Assigned projects and all.
I do have sympathy for the well pump, though — remember helping pull one up from the cellar of the farmhouse where a group of us were living.
We have to love someone who finds writing about fungus or moths or vegetables and fruits exciting — when are you coming over to join us over dinner?
I’ll have to make a special trip to New England for that but I’d certainly love to be there now (I grew up in CT). A new switch for the pump arrived today so if I can’t get the one on there now to function I’ve got a replacement. Still a lot of work. It looks like the sand point is good (for now) but I have a new one and piping on hand for an indoor winter project.
We can still wonder what it would be like to be caught up on those to-do lists …
One of my dreams!
I have a subscription to the Alcuin Club’s publications (they specialise in liturgical studies). Which is why at the moment I’m working through a book on burial rites before allowing myself another historical novel… but if I don’t force myself, when will I find time for that professional reading?
If you find a better way, let us all know!
Sorry to hear you’re under the weather, but at least it forces you to relax and that’s a good thing. I think we should all take a hiatus whenever we start feeling guilty about not keeping up with our imagined duties.
One former girlfriend had a similar awareness. From time to time she’d declare a sick day for herself, just to catch up. Wonder if it still worked after marrying and having children.