Mandrake of Simmer

This day was like a big damp grey wool blanket draped heavily over everything. (And I have a sense of deja vu that assures me I have written almost the exact same description about some other day, somewhere. This is what happens when you get old. It is not I but the world that repeats itself!) However, I was grateful, sort of, for the overcast because it kept the Fiery Doom down to an ominous steaming. I can't really complain because I was inside most of the time and pretty comfortable.

This morning we drove to a PNC bank branch to get the "medallion stamp" needed on a form that must be sent to Mr. Science so he can perform his executor duties and get funds from my mother's account divvied up and disbursed to us. She also helped us fill out another form that was needed. I was expecting some grand golden seal, after all the trouble we went to, and was disappointed that it's just a stamp. But the bank person explained it is very special ink that shows up under a special light. The stamp is a humble wooden thing but has Stern Warnings pasted all over it and is kept in a safe. I never knew such a thing existed. Live and learn. The Sparrowhawk had to return home quickly to prepare for a phone call with a friend of his who is producing a textbook. The Sparrowhawk will write three chapters. I'm proud and happy for him. His knowledge should be shared with the world. And at last it can be revealed that my good friend, Geary Gravel, also has a book contract! He will be writing a John Carter novel, Gods of the Forgotten, in the new ERB Universe. Happy and proud of him, too. However, there is a part of me that thinks it's a hell of a thing that I know all these people with book contracts who are not me . . . .

I started a new notebook today, at least, and that's a long story. I got this cool notebook with an Alice in Wonderland theme at the Epic conference in 2016, when I went there with the Sparrowhawk. I had such a good time that year, I put the notebook on the shelf when I got home and said to myself, for some reason, "I'll just save this until after Mother dies." I suppose I thought it would be something to cheer me up when the time came. So I'm finally going to use it, and it's satisfying in a way, but bittersweet. Because I looked back at the beginning of the old notebook as I closed it out, and saw the date I started it: December 3, 2018. And I realized that will be the last notebook I ever have that has news of Mother in it. Our last Christmas with her, her last birthday, her last Mother's Day. Even though I know she will be in my thoughts as long as I live, and I will probably write about her sometimes, there will be no more conversations, no events. Only memories now.