International men’s orchid chandelier seats Patton’s tanks and toilets
“Especially spectacular, Nazy!” I exclaimed. “It is International Men’s Day.”
“And..”
“And, I believe that means that women — including wives — should be extraordinarily kind and caring.”
“Really?
“Would I make that up?”
“I did some web research as well, Dan.” Nazy replied. “November 19 is also World Toilet Day. Coincidence? I think not.”
“Does the unfortunate juxtaposition of dates have something to do with toilet seats?”
“So much for being extraordinarily kind and caring,” Nazy replied.
The day was, in fact, a day filled with events that altered and illuminated our time. I got prescription eye drops and, in a break with tradition, I read the enclosed documentation. I focused (pardon) on the side-effects:
“Look at this Nazy!” I exclaimed. “It says a possible side effect is irritability.”
“How would I notice?” Nazy asked.
“Excuse me?”
“You’re already half way there.”
“What?”
“You are irritating. You just have to exchange the ‘ing’ for ‘ability.”
“Remember National Men’s Day, Nazy.”
Regular readers may recall the gargantuan marble dinning room table that we acquired when Melika got her new house. It is large enough to simultaneously seat King Arthur’s entire regiment of knights and Patton’s third army (including the tanks). Because it was too large for our dining room, we put it in the living room. The dining room was repurposed as the living room. But, there are some..
“… disadvantages, Dan,” Nazy explained. “The chandelier was great over the dining room table, but it’s too low over the coffee table.”
Flashback
The Chandelier
Nazy had been eyeing ‘The Chandelier’ at an antique store on the Denneweg in Den Haag for two years. Constructed well before household electricity was in place, it featured Baccarat crystal and candle illumination. Three small electric lights had been added in the early 1900’s. Nazy was bargaining with the store owner during the entire two years that she had been coveting ‘The Chandelier’. But now, we were moving back to New Hampshire. It was crunch time.
“Okay!” the store owner (finally) acquiesced. I’ll give it to you for that price, but I’m losing money. I’ll show you the invoice so you can see what I paid for it.”
“Do you think we should offer him more money?” Nazy whispered.
“NO!” I shouted.
The owner showed us an old Dutch invoice. Then he took our cash and…
“Would you mind if I give you an invoice that doesn’t exactly match what you’ve paid?”
“Sort of like the invoice you just showed us?” I thought. “Why?” Nazy asked.
“It will help me with my taxes,” the owner responded. “Would you like a ‘special’ invoice for US customs? I can make the price anything you’d like. In fact, I can make two different invoices. One for insurance purposes and one for tax declaration purposes. I can…”
We demurred. As a result of my itinerant career, we moved many times after that. Several pieces of crystal were chipped in the crossing from Hanover to Zurich. (It cost the insurance company a fortune since Baccarat wouldn’t make a single piece, they needed to construct a minimum of 100 pieces for each shape that was damaged.) For our move to California, the insurance company, wiser (and Swiss) mandated really good packing; so the transport was ‘chip-free’. But..
End Flashback
“… positioning ‘The Chandelier’ over the coffee table has proven to be ‘unwise’,” Nazy explained. “Guests keep bumping their heads when they stand up.”
“If it’s not good for the guests..” I began.
“I’m not worried about the guests,” Nazy interrupted. “I’m worried that someone will damage ‘The Chandelier’. We need to rearrange the furniture. I want to push the round table up against the wall.”
“That will mean that people can’t sit all the way around the table,” I noted. “General Patton will have to leave his tanks outside.”
“Patton is dead, Dan.”
“I’ll be dead if I have to move that table,” I thought. “We’ll need to hire about five strong men,” I replied. “It might be easier to move the house,” I thought.
The five men were successful and the newly positioned table makes head bashing with The Chandelier impossible. But neighbors are curious about the tanks parked along the street. They wonder if a Presidential candidate recommended close scrutiny of our home when he discovered that we had recently moved from (gasp!) — Europe.
Aside: I find the hysterical, cowering, fearful and over-the-top posturing on the immigration issue unworthy of the principles that underpin the United States of America. For those candidates propagating this nonsense: “Get a grip!”
Meanwhile, the grand(est)son has transformed from baby to little boy. He loves playing with his cars (he calls them ‘Vroom&rsquo
and like his Uncle Darius used to do, he lines them up in rows. The difference is that Darius lined cars front to back and Tiger likes them side to side.
Mitra and Stefan drove to Santa Barbara for the weekend. We went to the annual orchid show at the Santa Barbara Museum of Natural History. After enjoying the show (and making a few purchases) we learned that the secret to orchid success is:
“Fine bark! And they like being cramped.”
“So?” I thought. “Throw out the moss and coarse bark?”
And, finally, Monster the Cat, will be moving back in with Tom and Melika. Their house renovation is almost done. Monster, as you can see, has been making himself at home.
For last week's letter, click here.
At the Museum of Natural History
Blue Whale exhibit
Shot into the sun with diffraction spikes