This week has been a mad one. Close to the start of the Christmas period, we found out that Mum would be having a thyroidectomy on Candlemas (the final day of the Christmas season). Of course, this was not enough to spoil Christmas. As readers of this blog are no doubt aware, Christmas happens in a big way in this house. But when the day finally arrived it was nonetheless met with, if not fear, definite nervousness. I'm pleased to say that the procedure seems to have been a great success! And wouldn't it have been? Thyroid treatment has been developing for over four thousand years. You know me - somewhat obsessed with putting doctors, nurses, physicians and surgeons in my historical fiction - I made a (very brief) wander into the realms of researching the topic. I was surprised by the results. The earliest I could find a reference to treatments for thyroid issues (in this instance a goitre) came in 2697BC, when the legendary Yellow Emperor recorded the use of seaweed in treati...
Christmas is coming, it's only four days away! For someone who loves Christmas so much, the festival and celebration of Christmas does not feature in as many of my books as I would have expected. All the same, I've drawn together a couple of snippets concerning Christmas from various stories I've written, and I present them to you now as my #HistFicThursdays offering (you can also find a couple from Beneath Black Clouds and White here, as well as last year's offerings here).
Philip was almost grateful of the laborious journey, as it numbed his body to the pains which lay ahead. Instead, he concentrated all his thoughts on the imminent arrival of Advent. It had always been his favourite season of the church’s year. The coming of peace. And he was ready for peace.
~ from The Year We Lived
The presents were distributed by Hamish and Roger and all those present had a gift matched perfectly to their recipient. The day continued with games and carols, for which Catherine accompanied them on the piano, drawing smiles from Hamish and Imogen who shared a joke with her husband. Henry stood in the doorway at the back and smiled across at the gathered family who sang with great enthusiasm if not always great pitch. Toby walked over to him and his father smiled down.
“I have tried, with all my new family,” Toby began,“to find anyone who has a bad word to say about you. But no one has anything but the greatest respect for you. Do you know how hard it is to be the son of such a man?”
“If they have no bad word to say, Toby, it is only that they do not know me.”
“Do not say that, Father. I realised today, you see, that I should stop being so selfish. I was thinking only of you in relation to me. I am so proud of you, Father, and if I can do even half of what you have done for other people I shall be amongst the best of men.”
~ from To Reason Why
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