Archive for 30 september, 2008

Tisdagsförströelse 32

Förra veckan citerade jag en av mina större läsupplevelser i ungdomen. Jules Vernes ”Tsarens kurir”. Idag kommer jag inte ihåg så jättemycket av själva handlingen, istället minns jag mycket musik och en ryamatta, lejongul med bruna och vita ringar, som låg i vårt vardagsrum där jag satt och läste.

Men nu något annat, vad?

The house is a wreck. Canals for the heating pipes have been cut into the inside walls of every room in the house. The workers have left rock and rubble in piles all over the unprotected floors. The plastic we’d requested was simply tossed over the furniture so every book, chair, dish, bed towel, and receipt in the house is covered in dirt. The jagged, deep, floor-to-ceiling cuts in the wall look like open wounds. They are just beginning on the new bathroom, laying cement on the floor. The plaster in the new kitchen already is cracking. The great long sink has been installed and looks wonderful. A workman has scrawled in black felt-tip pen a telephone number on the dining room fresco. Ed immediatly wets a rag and tries to rub it clean but we’re stuck with the plumber’s number. He slings the rag onto the rubble. They’ve left windows open all over and puddles have collected on the floor from this morning’s rain. The carelessness apparent everywhere, such as the telephone being completely buried, makes me so angry I have to walk outside and take gulps of cold air.


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