I wanted to write the site map (the site map is what you are reading right this second) because last night I dreamed about my grandmother for the first time since she died (the dream was on the night of 20th August 2023), except in the dream she looked as she did in a photograph taken before I was born, in the early 1990s, at the Yorkshire House (Parliament St lancaster). I never knew this pub but she was the licensee there. Above this paragraph is a photo of her old garden, of which I have a few vague memories, but in my memory the garden was larger. At her wake I met some of the old Yorkshire House regulars for the very first time, where they shared with me happy, impassioned memories of her strength of character. "She was the greatest woman I ever knew!" When people who you love are gone you think a lot about what it means to know someone. When friends come together to share their stories, you see aspects of a person you never witnessed. You hear what people were like before you. In the preparation for a funeral and in its wake there is the space to appreciate a life's multiple parallels, to reconcile contradictions. I will be thinking of her and her contradictions when the books I inherited arrive in the post next week. I am now writing more than two months after this paragraph began, in early November 2023. I do not know when or where the books were bought or where they belonged in the narrative of her life, which was often described as 'chaotic'. Its own massive undertaking, perhaps I should instead commemorate these things somewhere else, or, better yet, keep them to myself. For now I am placing these thoughts at the start of the site map, but later it may become relevant somewhere else. The observation will then have to move, replaced by a new fence. 22/09/26 Text transpositioned on a morning where all the time seemed to bundle up in one place and I saw you and did not see you (A Rubble Barge slummering)

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