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Bad News at Dinner

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After spending the whole day at the beach, I get home knackered. The twins have set the table for dinner, and Mom has already put the finishing touches to a dish of pasta. We’re supposed to wait until Dad gets back to have dinner together, but I’m really only aiming to collapse on my bed at this point.

At least… Until Mom sits down next to me, with a grave look on her face. 

“The musem called, darling. They… They’re not happy. They say they need to see more of you. They don’t like that you’re doing stuff on your own. They’re talking about stopping your subsidizing.”

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Well my appetite is gone, now. I’m not ready to suit up, and be the good archeology monkey in an office on the other side of the museum from the omiscan antiquities I bring them.

But it seems I have no choice. Before the month is over, I’ll have to play along and go apologize to the oh-so-annoying director, my boss. I need him on my side if I’m ever going to be curator of this museum.

And it’s not that he doesn’t like me — if anything, he likes me too much. But I have yet to see him actually show some interest for anything in the museum. He doesn’t care about art, or history, or archeology — and he doesn’t know anything about any of it either. He’s the businessman.

And yet, he’s the man I need to report to.

Can’t wait.

Relaxed

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Nounou is finally done harassing every single seagull on the Brindleton Bay shores. Now that he’s exhausted, he’s ready to get cuddly again. He follows lazily in my footsteps as I stroll along the beach a little more. It’s still raining, but the clouds have dissipated. Still, very few people have found the motivation to take a walk by the sea by this weather, so for a few moments more, the beach is hours.

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The Beach

Nounou and I had a bit of a fright, and he must have been feeling terrible these last few days. I think we both deserve a break by the beach. The day is cloudy, and soon enough it starts to rain — but the air is fresh, invigorating, and infused with iodine. And it’s been so long since I’ve walked in the sand, even though I have to walk in boots and jump around cold puddles.

And then there’s the sound of the seagulls. It soothes me.

At least until I see Nounou, fully healed and absolutely not soothed by the sound of birds, running past me like a grey rocket. He leaps at them, then when they fly away in a terrified formation, struts back to me with feathers in his mouth.

Thanks, Nounou. Much appreciated.

I mean, I’m glad he’s feeling better at least.

The Vet

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To Brindleton Bay we go. There’s a family-run vet there, in the hills by the pond. And by family-run, I mean the owner has the Stewarts name. She is the daughter, of the daughter, of the son, of Gram’s brother.

If you’re lost, it’s quite okay, so was Mom when she tried to explain the family link to me. Thankfully, a phone call to Gram cleared that up. Gram is quick to clear up the present of our family, it’s just the past she won’t talk about.

Both Mom and Gram said that of course this was where we needed to go to cure Nounou, as it can’t get better than family.

Let’s see how good this long lost cousin’s business really is, then.

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Speaking of Gram, here she is! Her cat isn’t feeling all that well either. At least I have someone to bond with as we worry about our four-legged friends in the waiting room.

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We don’t worry for long though. There aren’t that many people today, so I’m quickly ushered to an examination room. It’s cozy and nice, and probably engineered to soothe both pet and owner. It reminds me of the sea, which makes sense as the seashore is about a ten-minute walk away.

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We’re not taken in charge by my great-grandmother’s brother’s granddaughter herself, as she’s apparently sick herself today, but the vet introduces herself as her mentee, and gently puts Nounou on top of the examination table. She looks nice enough.

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Nounou stays calm throughout the examination, which is what convinces me that she’s talented. Nounou’s a grumpy old guy who only likes us.

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The vet pulls a strange device out of a drawer, and with one shot, Nounou is cured! Rodolph no more. She even gives me a special, one-of-a-kind mentor’s grandfather’s sister’s great-granddaughter discount. Ha, family.

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I don’t really care about that, though. What I care about is that my cat is all better now.

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Little rascal.

Nounou is sick

A few days have gone by since we’ve returned, and Nounou has been acting odd. And sure enough, one morning as I head out to take out the trash, I’m greeted by a kitty who thinks he must be Rudolph the Reindeer.

Oh, Nounou, it’s not Christmas yet.

So, to the vet we go.

Pumpkins Everywhere

I won’t let it be said that the house I live in was covered in carved pumpkins and I didn’t make any of them. The first thing I do as soon as I get home is get carving. I’ve never done it before, but how hard can it be, really?

Also, a special shout-out to Mom, who has already put a bowl of candy by the door “for the kids”. The twins and I know she’ll have to refill that bowl more than once before Spooky Day if we have anything to say about it.

Spooky House

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We were gone for a week, and it was enough for Mom and Dad to get the house ready for Spooky Day. Judging by the number of carved pumpkins by the door, they’ve been busy! I must admit the house looks awesome. Just the right amount of spooky.

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We’re not even through the gate that it starts to drizzle, not the warm selvadoradan rain, but the cold drops that feel like the sky is pinching you.

Come at me, rain! Hot or freezing, I welcome you!

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Anyway, umbrellas out again.

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We’ve got a garden to explore, parents to greet, Spooky Day decorations to finish.

Back to the Lands of Fall

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Again, we wake up early because of a plane we need to catch. I’m the last one in the living room, as I was struggling to make the last of the omiscan antique knives fit into my luggage. The twins are already having breakfast, chatting about what they’ll tell their classmates about first.

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I have one last moment with Cléo while Cyril is in the bathroom, taking his daily hour-long shower.

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“I’ve always wanted to come here,” she tells me. “I didn’t expect it to be that overwhelming, but I loved it. Thanks for being the best guide.”

I’d like to tell her that it was my pleasure, but I’m just speechless — all I can do is hug her.

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And then, after a plane hop, here we are again. It feels odd to be wearing coats and jackets again. The change is sudden and sort of bleak.

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Our home has changed quite a bit while we were away, too.