Today was one of those grey, wet-snow days good only for going back to bed, which I did in the afternoon, for a good, long nap. Despite my sloth I have three new things to report. The first, a result of an earlier, less-slothful day, is that I received a draft transcript of my will from the notary. It was impressively hard to understand, so I printed it out, only to find important things missing. I perused this stupidly for some time before remembering there is something called legal paper, inches longer than the paper I use for printing out chapters of my murder mystery. And yes, there on the computer screen, were the missing bits in all their legalese glory. Not only does the will include these bits, it contains things I don’t remember discussing with the notary. Perhaps these are standard concerns with whose details he didn’t want to burden me: debts, RRSPs… which he erroneously thinks I possess.
Lest you find all this stultifying in the extreme, here’s the second thing: I woke from my long nap to discover Dear One had gone out and bought cheese curds and potatoes, and was making our first home-made poutine. For anyone who read my earlier post in which I railed against tinned hot chicken sandwich sauce, let me confess there is a thing such as tinned poutine gravy, and Dear One included it in his grocery list, and I wolfed down the homemade poutine you see in the photo below. This could conceivably dovetail with the completion of my will in ways I prefer not to think about.
Today’s third new thing is that The New Yorker’s March 7th issue has a piece about my novel, Annabel, in its Briefly Noted section. Now if only they would run one of the stories I keep sending them, instead of those elegant rejection slips.
You are indeed moving closer! I'm sure it's only a matter of time now before your stories are also in the NY, and a small stretch of time at that.
This post made me laugh and laugh. Do you suppose lawyers and notaries suspect that there's a whole class of us out there who are oddly bereft of RRSPs and (in my case) savings and other such sensible things? Or do you think they'd find the possibility too frightening to contemplate?
Your story of the nap also made me sleepy, and thankful for the delicious possibility of a nap in my own near future. Though the sun is shining in Ontario as I write this. Not exactly a napworthy kind of day.