Ah, what a crap week it was, sorry. It started well, I made good progress on Monday and Tuesday especially, when I dusted, sorted and shelved the next sections of the library. This allowed me to clear some shelves that stood very close together in the room, and move them apart so that I could inspect the former inaccessible planks – and to my astounding I found a section with German literature in hopefully interesting editions. My right hand started to prickle and tingle a little. I had some beer and slept wonderfully. On Wednesday afternoon I could watch how in the section behind my index finger a kind of lump swelled up, hot and pulsating. On a Wednesday afternoon you better do not become ill on the German countryside: The local doctor will have closed his office and will be unlocatable, the pharmacy will be closed too. If you can not use your right hand its of no use to try to drive a car – assumed you have one -, you can not change the gears with the gear knob (I save the automatic up for later, thank you).
On Thursday I visited the local medicine man, I am sure he is a good doctor. Because it was my first visit he carefully asked about my medicamentation, pre-existing conditions etc. My only small point of criticism is that his social behaviour is used and formed by the contact with the sprouts from local soil, generally a sturdy race of not too many words, deeply rooted in their native soil that always sticks on their boots and under their nails. At one point I had to ask twice what he meant because I did not know the local expressions, but he translated in Hochdeutsch finally. He diagnosed an attack of gout (Ger., Eng. – the illustration to this article is very accurate by the way).
Over the last months I became lazy, eat too well and too much in the local mensa: They cook for the scholars and disciples here, mostly young men who have actually to do bodily work on the fields, machines etc., generally not old lazy sacks lounging at the desk; unusual corporal activity (carrying staples of books from one place to another through a whole day), and some beer on top of it – voilà, a visit by Mr. Podagra, respectively his cousin Mr. Chiragra – the first bites in feet, the latter in hands.
He gave me colchicum, what is basically condensed Herbstzeitlose (Ger., Eng.), a kind of crocus and pretty poisonous: The poisoning starts with 40 milligrams for the adult, I munched 10 mg in nice little red pills; the side effects are heavy on the stomach, I was very happy to be at home on Frayday evening. The stuff works, but slowly, it’s Sunday and I still can not grab things with my hand – but of course its heaven compared to the situation three days ago – on Wednesday and Thursday I could not even grab a pencil, forget write.
This Sunday Music is The Season of the Witch, originally by DONOVAN, here in a version of The STRANGELINGS (Eng., website). I would have liked to put here the version by Julie DRISCOLL (Ger., Eng., website), but AUGER’s (Ger., Eng.) uninspired squeaking “solo” bungling really put me off. There is an acid-saturated version by VANILLA FUDGE (Ger., Eng.), and a very powerful one by Richard THOMPSON (Ger., Eng., website).
Hope you enjoy it – and may you be spared a visit by Mr. Podagra, or his evil cousin: Have a peaceful and paynefree week!