oh no, not the hypothalamus!
So I’ve reworked some of my old CGI toys, and you’ll find them on the page for real content. I’m particularly pleased with the Name Confluxer.
It also occurs to me that over the course of my life, I have generally not been thankful enough for grandparents. I still have all four of mine, you see, and until recently they have all been in exceptionally good health. Hell, I have memories of three of my great-grandparents, one of whom is still kicking around in her late 90s and the other two of whom lived for over a century. My version of Grandma’s Scary Geriatric Smell, then, is located a generation further back, and I’ve been extremely lucky to know all of my grandparents as vibrant individuals untainted by the stench of rosewater. But, old age eventually hits us all, and so one of my grandfathers is dealing with Parkinson’s while the other just had a couple tumors chopped out of his lung. He is in his own words a “tough old farmer” and is recovering quickly; I just hope the surgeons didn’t miss anything.
I’m still terrified by the slow transformation of people I love into frail and sickly versions of themselves. Maybe if I lived closer to home I wouldn’t notice, but each time I see my other grandfather it’s like his fraying dopamine system has killed off a few more of the grandpas I remember, and when my memories run out then he’ll be gone, but no matter how hard I try I can’t remember fast enough to save him.