Clank

This morning I woke to an email confirming that the difficulties of yesterday were resolved, with an absolutely crucial document now signed, and I soon got a call from Ypsilanti’s friendly and relaxed assessor saying not to worry about the form; it is a first-degree blood transfer. She said to just write “Parents” on the form.

I thought it might demonstrate sanity to have breakfast and then proceed with the wire transfer, but I knew I would really be kicking myself if there were complications and I didn’t get it done by the daily cutoff of 2 p.m., so I opened the email with the instructions for the wire transfer and went ahead.

My bank had said account holders can wire up to $50,000 a day to a person who doesn’t have an account with them for a fee of $30. If you have to send someone more than that, you might pay that fee multiple times. However, if you’re wiring to a title company, the limit is $500,000, and as mentioned, this house is in Ypsilanti, so I only had to pay the fee once.

The moment came to click the button confirming the transfer. I paused for a moment or two and then confirmed the transaction. I thought it would be a big moment, but after the harrowing episode of yesterday (with me eventually nearly in tears, my sister irate, the paralegal aghast, and the realtor and title company lady wondering if we would actually make it to the closing), it was rather anti-climactic, just clicking a button. Not really even making any money disappear, just changing it into something else.

I took care of another banking task, scheduled a visit to the dentist and canceled a medical appointment. By then I was starving. A celebratory lunch seemed in order rather than toast at home, so I went over to Seva for a vegan tempeh Reuben. The weather was perfect: slightly humid—a caressing rather than dripping feeling—and about 90 degrees: warm, but not flattening. I love this kind of weather. It is never experienced in San Francisco, where it is almost never humid, and if it is, it isn’t 90 degrees at the same time.

A nice lady held the door open for me in the bathroom at Seva, either because she thought I was very darling or because she thought I was old. She might have thought I was old because I was wearing my bib, or because I am old. I make a point of keeping my giant bib on when I go to the bathroom to normalize wearing such a thing. Maybe the other patrons had not yet pictured themselves in a bib, but the day may come when they are tired of dribbling food down the front of their garment.

I went then to Plum Market to get a couple of bags of things from the Gluten Free Brothers (not because of the lack of gluten but because they are sweet and I can rationalize that it’s not exactly precisely eating sugar) and also a few Pop & Bottle drinks, also sweet without exactly being sugar, and containing caffeine; I have these treats on occasion when I don’t have my usual cup or two of green tea in the morning.

Next, downtown Ann Arbor, a charming place with old brick buildings, lots of enticing stores full of colorful things, many choices if you want to eat or have a little sip of something outside and nearly every street blocked off so that it’s impossible to get anywhere and signs saying things like 

MILK FROM LOCAL COWS
HONEY FROM LOCAL BEES

I was pleased to see that Vogel’s Lock and Safe was still there, familiar from my childhood, but when I got home, I saw that it closed several years ago after nearly a hundred years in business, just the sign remaining now. However, Schlanderer & Sons jewelry store actually is still there, on Main St., though now the door is kept locked and you have to knock. For the closing tomorrow, I want to wear a watch that is identical to the one my mother had and loved. (More than once when she was in memory care, she reported it lost and a search was initiated, with the beloved item eventually located on her wrist.) I found mine no longer running, so I took it to Schlanderer to have the battery replaced. They did this on the spot. It cost $20. They still take cash.

Then around the corner to Sam’s for bib overalls, Dickies, in a blue jeans color, or a darker indigo blue, or narrow blue and white vertical stripes. (I’m pretty sure this was not the brand they had when I was a kid.) I favored the first and third colors in my youth; actually, I’m positive those were the only colors Sam’s had back then. Today I got a pair of the blue jeans color and of course the impulse purchase of a bandanna in a pretty olive green at the cash register.

The overalls are now clanking in the dryer.