Time had certainly flown by in between travelling back and forth to Italy to sort some family business, then Nona came to visit and soon all my spare time went writing. Without me even realising it, weeks had passed without Ortensia been able to sit behind the desk.
Actually, the plan was to go back blogging last week, but an injured husband and some unexpected DIY job got in the way.
Last Saturday, the travelling husband and daughter number one went out to the lake for the day, while I and daughter number two went to the shopping center to buy a birthday present. With the start of the school, in fact, you are inevitably trapped in the terrifying and expensive spiral of the birthday parties.
By 5:00pm, father and daughter were surprisingly back already.
Daughter number one came in first and immediately warned me that the travelling husband could be slightly cranky because he missed a few birds that, apparently, were a child play.
I said nothing, as I learn to joy inside every time a poor animal is spared and won’t end up in my freezer.
As soon he stepped into the house too, I noticed there was something odd but I couldn’t quite figure out what it was.
Then I realised that his head was completely tilted on one side.
Because his face is asymmetric, he always keeps his head slightly bent, but this was different. His right ear nearly touched the shoulder.
“What had happened”, I exclaimed.
“Well, you know the little pain I felt this morning when I got up?”
“Well it got worse, and the wind on the boat didn’t help.”
“Defo”, I said, still incredulous that he managed to stay out all day and drive for over two hours with that stiff neck. I also thought that the pain he had this morning must have been far worse than he said and that he had been a total “moron” to go hunting anyway, but, once again, I kept it for myself.
Then, I thought of what daughter number one said about her father shooting badly, and I really hoped she had said nothing to him because then, I bet he was cranky. How he could have only held the gun is still a mystery to me. An other mystery is how she had not noticed that there was something strange in his father head. I suppose this is what they mean when they say that teenagers live in their own world.
Anyway the poor man was in real pain, but not enough to stay put . He managed to open a bottle of red wine and pour himself a glass with the intention to sip it while watching TV from the couch.
I purposely said “with the intention” because while the husband reached the couch, the glass never reached his lips; instead it reached the sofa, the wall, the floor and everything around the area.Now you would think that is not a big deal, a wet cloth and everything is wiped off. Nop, red wine is lethal, and after I spent half an hour scrubbing walls, floors, rugs, books etc etc, still one side of my kitchen sofa has reddish dots all over. The paint on the wall , on the other end, got entirely corroded. So guess what I did the following morning instead of blogging? I painted under the supervision of the man with the tilted head. He still had not realised how lucky he was that my big chopping knife was in the dishwasher and nowhere at hand reach.
Of course, the evening was not all wasted, and in the end, I did sit down and enjoyed my dinner with a glass of wine that I carefully made sure to bring straight to my lips. All the previous mayhem was forgotten.
Peace and quiet at last….until the door open and daughter number two comes in carrying a tray with hers and her sister leftover dessert. It all happened in a fraction of second, so fast that I didnt even had time to realise what was coming until Clara the dog skids away, Carla the kid stumbles, the tray flys in the air and its content lands on the floor and a bit all over any surface of my kitchen.
I scream, daughter number two screams, Clara runs, daughter number one-half steps into the kitchen with a face saying “not my fault” and the travelling husband stands up to his feet to turn his entire body in the attempt to position his head in the right trajectory to have a clear view. Kurt, stays put on the coach, for once he is not involved in the mess!
What happened is soon explained, Clara the dog who is now completely blind, bunged into Carla, the kid who, been already prone to trip, had stumbled and dropped the tray. Outcome: three broken plates, two chipped glasses and whipped cream splattered all over the kitchen cupboards ,my new lovely fridge, the bookshelf beside it and of course the floor.
Here you go woman, get that mop back out and kneel down to scrub.