These are baneberries, according to my iSeek app. Pretty, but don't eat them. Hence the name.

The road to getting my dad's estate fixed up is a bumpy one. The lawyer said that we need the prior Trustee, the one who is declining, to appoint the new one. She can't do it. I contacted them, asking them to do that, and they said that they don't do that. Won't. Potential conflict of interest was the reason. They said we needed the lawyer to do it. Fingers pointing both at each other. Sigh. So two steps forward, one back, maybe? I hope?

There are also a couple other things hanging out there bothering me, ones I am not sure I can do anything about at this point either. So I went out and did some clean up in the yard. Partly it was a way to deal with mental noise, and partly it was because it seriously needed it. I'd been thinking about potentially having guests one of these days, and when I went out there this morning, I was appalled at how - um - rustic it was out there. Rustic is a nice, fairly unjudgemental word. Other options: Wild. Unkempt. Out of control. Unwelcoming. Embarrassing. Disgraceful. The patio space is getting constricted by plant growth. Among those, there were several larger limbs of the lilac that violated my hat rule, even to the point of me bashing my head more than once. I tend to waffle on lilac trimming -- ooooh, but the flowers in the spring! -- but after the second instance of head-bump-induced swearing, I hardened my heart and cut big limbs. There are two more than need to go, but the debris needs to settle before there is room. But I know what I need to do.

There are other things that I'll think about. There are some large, healthy, volunteer ferns.  I like them. But do I like them where they are? Do I want all of them? Maybe, maybe not. There's pondering to be done.

 I'll pop in for a little consumerist musing today. 

I've really been pretty good since I retired at not shopping, especially not recreationally. I've felt weighed down by the stuff I have. I suppose I still am, but today I just wanted to go out an look at stuff, and maybe buy something. It was retail therapy I wanted - something to do, something to cheer me up. I resisted all morning. Then after lunch, some calls and emails bore fruit, and I talked to a fiduciary trustee, a woman who makes a living taking care of trusts and estates. She obviously knows what she's doing, and I liked her voice and her energy. She's hired! I'm fired! YAY!

That gave me a boost. Mr Random helped me pack a bunch of stuff out into the car, stuff that had been boxed and earmarked for St Vinnie's for probably a year or more, but was languishing in a closet and in a corner, waiting for me to be ultra, ultra ready. I don't even know what's in there any more, so I figured that's ready enough. I dropped it off, and we now have several more cubic feet of free space. Whoo hoo! Let the energy circulate! Then I went shopping. But I was pretty restrained. I bought a paring knife to replace one that broke, and a spatula to replace an old one with cracks in it. And a card to give to one of my ex-co-workers who is going to retire soon. So that wasn't bad. And it was fun. 

It's not like I haven't been into shops. That's one thing we often do when I visit Bend. I just haven't found anything I wanted to buy very much. For instance, we went to a clothes store that my niece wanted to go to, because she was looking for birthday stuff. While she tried things on, I browsed around. I was fairly stunned when I saw tee shirts that had little irregular rounded holes all around the neck and sleeve hems. I've been getting rid of stuff that looks worn and shabby like that, but apparently it's a thing, pre-worn-out stuff that you can pay big money for. One of those worn-out looking shirts was going for something like $85. Amazing! I was marveling to Mr Random about that, and he snorted, "Okay, Boomer." Yeah, there it is. I'm not hip. But on the other hand, the other day I put on a raggedy old tee shirt I've had for probably 25 years, noted the worn edges, and thought, yeah, this is great, this is great, I'm stylin' now, woop woop! And at bargain prices! 

I think the mountainous task of dealing with my dad's stuff, a task we have barely started, is making me see my stuff with new eyes. We have friends who are moving, and they are doing their best to pare down and clear out. I want to be very deliberate about what I buy or bring into our household. It all requires space and care. The something-comes-in/something-goes-out rule is helpful, but maybe not quite enough. It's definitely a long term project...

We've been seeing a lot of Oceanspray out on our hikes. It's a pretty plant, a native, also known as Ironwood, apparently because the wood is really strong. We have one planted next to our driveway as well. I think it's pretty, but it is also pretty messy as it drops petals onto the car. Oh well. I still like it.

We've hiked every day so far this week. Not bad! I have a week, or maybe two or three, where I don't need to go to Bend, which is a change from lately, so we're very much enjoying routine. We'll need to move our hiking earlier, though, as the heat rises. Heat definitely slows me down. Sure, complain about nice days, complain about not so nice days. What a baby complainy-pants. Wah, wah, wah. Time to toughen up!

My dad's estate stuff is still in some limbo, though the good news is that we now know where his will and trust documents are, and we know what is in them. That's a huge relief. The best thing, for me, is that he did NOT name me either trustee or executor. That gets to be someone else's job. A bunch of phone calls and document uploads later, the bad news is that the bank he designated to be the trustee/executor has declined to serve, so we have to find some other one to do it. Now waiting for referrals, while I collect piles of things that need to be dealt with. Bills. Insurance statements. A check or two. It makes me crazy not to be able to pay/deposit/complete any of this. Sigh. It is really like walking through a swamp - everything is slow, muddy, and opaque. I can't wait until I can hand it off. At least I know that eventually I should be able to...

 

I am back home from Bend, after going for a few days. My cousin and uncle came down, and we had a very nice visit. We hadn't seen them since the Before Times, pre-pandemic. My sister and I also spread my dad's ashes around a beautiful little juniper grove/rock pile. It seemed like a good spot. 

Some random notes about all that:

• I do love my family. We have a good time when we're together. I am wishing I'd taken a picture or two. I'm really bad about doing that.
• I love being home. Whew! When I woke up this morning in my own bed, with rain falling outside, it was incredibly nice. Rain brings joy, chez Random.
• I'm really glad to get the ash spreading done. I feel like he is free now, all the way, out in nature the way he wanted. Wind, rain, sun, do your stuff. And it's off my mind, another job done.
• This is my first Father's day sans father. All the sentimental media noise (what to cook! what to give! what to do!) about it certainly twists the knife a bit. On the other hand, it was also always sort of an awkward holiday for me, one I'd usually do the next time I was over there by bringing him cookies or something, but I'd always call on the actual day. It was always a bit of a challenge, trying to call at the right moment, wondering if he'd answer, and if he did, whether it would be a nice chat or one of those talks, and I don't need to worry about it now. So. Knife twist plus a bit of relief. Huh. Nothing is simple.
• And speaking of not simple, the estate stuff is still a mess, at least from my perspective. There may be, and probably are, things moving and resolving in the background as they were intended to, I just don't know what they are or what the end results will be. We are still missing documents and information. Yet he was a very organized man, and had definitely thought he'd set things up so that they were supposed to take care of themselves. So is it all behind the scenes? Under the surface? It's kind of hard not to imagine being on a boat in the ocean with JAWS theme music playing. But we have an upcoming visit to a lawyer who should be able to clear at least a few things up, I hope. 

It's been a couple of not very physically active weeks, what with all the pollen and travelling and stuff. I am looking forward to getting back to our Random hiking routine. Onward! 

This is a picture from 2018. From left to right, we have little Punky, who died last year, my Dad, who died a little more than two weeks ago, Mr Random, my mom, and Mr Bingley, my sister's dog, who had to be put to sleep today. My heart is sore for her and my mom, who loved to walk him even though he's been so arthritic lately that he hasn't really been able to do it. It's been kind of a difficult few weeks, and now for my sister, having this on top has to be just awful. Mr Bingley was an affable dope, most of the time, and a great stealer of food. Pies, cookies, cakes, you name it, he's probably stolen it from counters, coolers, wherever it was. He managed to eat vast quantities of things that are supposed to kill dogs, but at least in his case, didn't. He died at a very respectable age.  RIP, Mr Bingley.

Mr Random and I are getting through the pollen soup we are calling air without a whole lot of difficulties. I feel very fortunate about that. We have pulled back on our hiking though - there's no sense tempting fate. I miss it, but get a bit snorky and coughy when I've been outside for very long. All we can do is wait it out, and hope for a little rain to settle it.

I have been doing what I can to move forward with my dad's affairs, but it's been difficult. We are missing some critical bits of legal documentation, like trust documents and a will. Probably other things that I don't know enough to know we should have. So many questions, so much uncertainty. I am getting good advice from friends who've been through this, or what seems to be good, how would I know? Advice, anyway. Keep everything, every bill, every receipt, every cancelled check. In paper form. You'll have to do this, you need to think of that. I'm getting two real take-aways here. One is that I feel like I'd better figure out a better way to store things than the pile system that - ahem - it seems that my dad also used, for the most part. Apples not falling too far from the tree? Uh oh. And the second one is to consider how much of this do I actually have to do? Have I actually got the responsibility? Or the power? I don't actually know. Maybe it's not my job. Or if it is, do I have to do it? Can a lot of it be foisted off on his attorney? Or some attorney? I'm really hoping so, because I feel way out of my depth. Waiting until this clears up is starting to feel very prudent.

I'll be headed back over to Bend next week for a combination of extended family visits and more Dad-business. I get to plan and execute a couple family meals. It's nice to have something I actually feel relatively competent about doing! 

Meanwhile, on other fronts, the roses have been blooming. The huge Cecil Bruner in the back yard was spectacular, but is winding down now. The peace rose is blooming as well, as is the little yellow one on our porch steps. The Steller's Jays are cavorting around the back yard, taking dust baths in the spots where grass isn't growing. The cats seem to like those areas too. My poor lawn-keeping skills are keeping them happy, so maybe it's a good thing. I hereby release myself from self-criticism about that particular lack. It's my gift to birds and cats. The new Sparks release, on CD and clear-vinyl album, that I ordered back in March from Island Records in London, finally came, and I like it very much. Pulling out a beautiful new record from the nice crisp sleeve is a thrill I haven't had for a lot of years. Fun! At the farm, we've been getting irrigation set up, and planting tomatoes, peppers, eggplants, squash, cabbages, carrots, tomatillos, kale, beans, etc., and we're picking strawberries and peas. I've set up a system for labeling and color coding blocks of tomatoes and peppers by variety that I think is going to help us later in the season. I'm not a disorganized mess, I keep telling myself. 

One thing is for sure, I'm glad to be retired! One year, one month, and a couple weeks in, and yes, it's still great. Time is a phenomenal gift.

Mr Random and I went on a hike at Pisgah yesterday, and I was totally dragging. I'm not sure why - maybe the impact of the last few weeks? Maybe the record-setting pollen count? Maybe both/all? I know that I'm having some physical manifestations of stress, a pimple on my chin, skin irritations, for instance, that tell me that I don't quite have it all together. Breathe, breathe. Well, breathe inside, anyway. Outside, maybe not!

We have an appointment with an attorney at the firm where I think they have my dad's will in about three weeks. This whole process is mystifying and perplexing, really, and I know that he did try to make it easy for us. So this is simpler than it might be, maybe? Or not? Gah. Who does what? Who's on first? Who is responsible for anything? We don't really know. Meanwhile, some checks seem to be coming back, probably because I didn't sign them properly. Oops. Well, it will all come out in the wash, eventually. Probably two years from now? I had no idea how slowly and finely these mills grind. I'm mixing metaphors, but why not? Complexity and confusion are the order of the day.

 And yet, I have nothing actionable at the moment. I don't think I do, anyway. I'm waiting. For things to come in the mail. For instructions. For Godot...