“Real life” presented itself in the form of piles of mail and little maple trees growing in the eavestroughs. I did my taxes and Megan gave me back Mom’s banking to do.
I helped less than my share with the emptying if my parents’ house, and the sorting through the accumulated history and junk, laced with a few treasures.
There were doctor’s appointments with Mom and Dad, and many visits to the retirement home. Dad walked with more difficulty and saw less; Mom wasn’t sure if I was her daughter or sister.
There was a new set of perfect twin grand-nieces, making nine grands in all, and two more were born over the summer. They are all perfectly wonderful, of course, and fun. There were all of the usual family gatherings.
The Scrabble and Book Clubs had carried on without me, although the Scrabblers drank a lot now, and looked up words.
Boat enquiries trickled in, and a few people came to look. I kept lowering the price as the economy slid down. But My Detour still sits in my driveway, saying “Clean me; varnish my wood, take me sailing!”
I planted a border of bushes around the house. And took a carload of bushes to Richard’s family’s house to plant. And helped with the landscaping of Virginia’s house.
Virginia and I took our usual little week-long south-central Ontario road trip, and visited old friends. I visited Richard and he visited me, and we both got to know each others’ families better. We hiked and rode our bikes. We planned a camping trip in the van for August. Richard constructed a little place on top of the van for his 9-year-old grandson Colin to sleep when he came with us. I had complained often about our little plastic night bucket with sharp edges, so Richard installed a portapotty just for me
In July, brother Bill and I enjoyed a creative writing course together, and I went back for an art therapy course on Monday, July 21..
But that night, the summer took a sharp turn, and, for a while, it seemed that Richard and I had stepped into a different dimension. More later.