Scroll of the Timeless Hearth‑Mother

Recorded in the Era of Super Bowl LeX

There came a night when the world gathered around glowing screens, awaiting the clash of champions beneath the Roman numeral LeX, and the Hearth‑Mother herself received a revelation so profound it bent the timeline like warm metal.

For on this night, she understood:

She is timeless.

Not merely “looks younger than her years.” Not “good genetics.” Not “the lighting was kind.” But truly, cosmically, defiantly Timeless.

Her children believe she is forty‑three. Her eldest approaches thirty‑eight. The arithmetic trembles. The universe averts its gaze. The Hearth‑Mother smirks.

For she has stepped beyond the mortal calendar and into the realm of the Ever‑Now, where age is a rumor, birthdays are optional, and the passage of time is something she acknowledges only when it amuses her.

Thus it is written:

“The Hearth‑Mother ages only when she feels like it.”

And the Clowder, wise in the ways of cosmic nonsense, nodded in agreement.

For they had always suspected.