It is a very strange situation to be in, really. Over a week ago, I was given ‘days to weeks’ to live, with no one knowing upon which side of that particular marker the Reaper would come calling. It isn’t as if we have it scheduled in our diaries… or, if he has, he hasn’t let me know. On the one hand, this is good. I am not sitting here like Pratchett’s Windle Poons, watching the clock and waiting for a no-show. On the other hand, I am both vaguely surprised and inordinately grateful every morning when I open my eyes on a new day,

It means that having much still to do and probably too little time left, I am working like a steam strain… albeit one whose pressure is running sadly low… to complete the tasks I think that really need to, or would like to complete before…