Sunday, October 21, 2012
remembering to breathe
In a few weeks, when the dust has settled, remind me to tell you about the time I almost burned down the flat by leaving a pan of pasta on the hob while I went to a routine hospital appointment. For a few hours. And then ask about the insurance refusing to cover the repairs to the door the firemen broke down. If I'm a bit hazy on details, you can ground it in the week that one of the guys working on the house almost cut through his arm and had to be operated on for five hours, and how the ambulance guys, since they heard it was done with a knife, turned up with police cars in tow, to find out the full extent of this knife fight. At least Marek now knows where the police station in is our new neighbourhood. Remind me how relieved I was about having hired people here legally and covered by insurance. Once I've told you that story, you can ask about the time a couple of weeks later when we had three sets of house guests, and we moved house. By then, I'll be sitting back in our new living room, relaxed and happy, recounting the tales with distance and humour. Oh no I won't, I'll be up all night with a newborn baby. Forget it.