This morning I found myself facing a desk with two obituaries, a death certificate, and an article about a long-dead architect. I had to clear my desk of death. My younger son said thanks, but he didn't need the article though the architect, who had broken modernist ground here in Fort Worth, was a childhood friend of his--he used to detail his cars and once went to Santa Fe with him, his wife, and our Uncle Bob.
Next was the obituary of a good friend's husband--she didn't need it she said because it was the first version and contained errors--the second version was published after the funeral, which puzzled me.
I sent the death certificate to the cemetery where my cousin will be buried and ordered a gravestone--modest, with her full name (two middle names!), dates of birth and death, names of parents.
So left is the obituary for my good and close friend, plus an article in a local hospital magazine about her son's family. I've put them on the dining table to remember to take to the funeral Saturday.
So now what's left on my desk is a bunch of cooking magazines, which I think is sort of fitting--life goes on. I haven't cleared these deaths and losses from my mind, but I'm moving ahead...and clipping recipes. Also have a few notes about the final scene to write in my work-in-progress--but it's only a first draft and there is much work ahead of me.
I did finalize the neighborhood newsletter and get it off, late, to the designer today, so I've done some good things. Just have to write that last scene and get in the spirit of the novel.
Meantime I'm more in the spirit of cooking. Thinking poor-boy sandwiches would be good this weekend, and found a recipe for making them with basil and oregano-infused mayonnaise plus arugula tossed in lemon and olive oil. Fanciest poor boy I ever heard of.
Cooking has always been a solace for me, and I think it's only fitting that my mind goes to food at this time. My cousin, whom I never really knew and who was out of touch with reality, would not understand. But the friends I've lost are smiling and approving. I know that.
Next was the obituary of a good friend's husband--she didn't need it she said because it was the first version and contained errors--the second version was published after the funeral, which puzzled me.
I sent the death certificate to the cemetery where my cousin will be buried and ordered a gravestone--modest, with her full name (two middle names!), dates of birth and death, names of parents.
So left is the obituary for my good and close friend, plus an article in a local hospital magazine about her son's family. I've put them on the dining table to remember to take to the funeral Saturday.
So now what's left on my desk is a bunch of cooking magazines, which I think is sort of fitting--life goes on. I haven't cleared these deaths and losses from my mind, but I'm moving ahead...and clipping recipes. Also have a few notes about the final scene to write in my work-in-progress--but it's only a first draft and there is much work ahead of me.
I did finalize the neighborhood newsletter and get it off, late, to the designer today, so I've done some good things. Just have to write that last scene and get in the spirit of the novel.
Meantime I'm more in the spirit of cooking. Thinking poor-boy sandwiches would be good this weekend, and found a recipe for making them with basil and oregano-infused mayonnaise plus arugula tossed in lemon and olive oil. Fanciest poor boy I ever heard of.
Cooking has always been a solace for me, and I think it's only fitting that my mind goes to food at this time. My cousin, whom I never really knew and who was out of touch with reality, would not understand. But the friends I've lost are smiling and approving. I know that.
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