Wheat of Leave

The sun came out, and it was a bright, cool day. Very autumnal. Dr. Nurse and her husband bought a little house in a neighborhood not far from ours, and her mom and dad (the Duchess and Duke) came to help clean it up before they move in. We stopped by to see them and get the tour. I took them some of the cookies I made for my mother, as well as a new batch of oatmeal cookies made from an old recipe. This is sort of a Food of My People kind of thing. These cookies are not quite up the level of lembas, but a cut above cram, and serve as waybread for journeys and strenuous work. They're supposed to have nuts and raisins in them, but I put in trail mix instead, because we leftover trail mix. I thought they were appropriate for housewarming. My box of bulbs came in the mail earlier this week, so I took out some tulip and daffodil bulbs for Dr. Nurse to plant in her new garden. When we bought our first house, the first thing I did was plant bulbs. It was a gesture of possession, and of faith in the future.

Later in the afternoon, the Sparrowhawk went off to his 50th high school reunion. I didn't go, because I really wanted to get the rest of my bulbs in the ground. I would have gone if he'd really wanted me to, but these things make me fidget madly, and he didn't mind reminiscing without me. So I stayed home and happily spent the rest of the daylight planting tulips and daffodils in the space the Diva and I cleared back in September. There must have been about 75 bulbs. That seems a crazy amount, but as I add it up, I think it's true. It took me quite awhile, and I got very muddy and had to put my clothes in the wash afterwards.

I learned from my mother last night that poor Ol' Whatsisname had died yesterday while she was at Wound Care. I had felt for some time that he was on the way out, but she didn't want to believe it. One of his family members had invited her into his room to see him a couple of days ago, so she had a last visit with him. I think she's sad about losing him, but she can't decide whether to admit it or not. I'm sure she brought some happiness and interest into his life near the end of it, and I hope she sees it that way. However, she rapidly switched from losing her friend to tormenting me some more by awfulizing about the Sparrowhawk and his terrible, terrible plight. And how terrible it is. And how strange, because he's always lived such a healthy life--as if Parkinson's is something you catch by not living right. Sigh. She's got the bit between her teeth on this, and is just not going to let go of it. I changed the subject as fast as I could!