A Jarndyce sort of day

A friend of ours used never to open his mail. This often got him into trouble, and I could not fathom how one could be like that. Well, now that I am, by default, so to speak, the executor of Tom’s will, I have full understanding of my friend’s dilemma and his motivation, or lack thereof. I am not against money, per se. It is nice to be able to buy groceries, and the occasional new chair. However, money in the abstract is an anathema to me. When my father’s financial advisor calls to advise, my eyes glaze over, and the sound from the phone is like those garbled spots one saw in movies in Ireland years ago (I am sure it is all different now,) when the characters said something naughty. Their mouths went, but nothing understandable came out. My brain just turns off. I got a bill from the lawyer, telling me how much it cost me for her to read my email, etc., I began to feel like a ward in Jarndyce, and this prompted me to think I had better start thinking about getting Tom’s affairs organized before his the whole of his property is gobbled up by “costs.” The glazed look and fuzzy hearing had protected me from it so far, but the time had come, etc. Not that I hadn’t been fretting about it all quite mightily, and lain awake nights worrying about my lack of motivation -- I just hadn’t done anything but toss the unopened mail into a box. I started by making a list of all I really had to do. I have been to the bank already four times to set up his account, and always some bit is missing, or the only person there who knows how to help me is at lunch, or, or,or……… In short, Grrrrrr. I got half of that done, but the person who was to have the other half done and waiting for me was rushing off to an important meeting, no doubt her lunch, and denied having said she would have it ready when I returned. It seems that for each facet of this, there is only one person who is able to do it. Orchestration of the whole thing is not easy. Too late, I found copies of the thing I had signed that she was supposed to be finishing up, but I am sure if I call her, she will still deny it. It will require another trip to the bank and more frustration. But back to the list. It is often quite helpful to make lists, I find, as sometimes I discover that the task is more manageable than I had thought, and broken down into small tasks makes it all seem less insuperable. So, while all I have really done is part of the bank business, open the mail, and make a list, I feel that I am - well, not really on a roll, but at least not quite as static as last week.
This picture is Maria guarding the teapot, which is an important adjunct in doing tedious paperwork.