Surprisingly, this title out of a Club Dumas chapter (awesome book. Arturo Perez-Reverte occasionally rules) served as an imperative for me. Since the day I read it I have remembered quite a few things, all surfacing from some deep underground hiding spot.
So I recalled
1. how deeply mesmerized I have always felt by people making flower bouquets. I haven’t been in a florists’ in ages so when I did the other day it struck me like lighting to remember how hypnotized and calm I felt while observing someone slowly putting flowers down a white table, making sure they were the right length, adding some white little decorative plant that I feel only exists to make roses look cuter and then, abruptly cutting me off my daydream by tightly raping a ribbon around them and handing them to me, usually with a smile. I don’t know why. But I feel calm even thinking about it.
2. that my grandmother’s tiny little electric pot (it was round and had a plug and a window to see how the food was cooking. More like a portable oven than a pot) made the best stuffed peppers & tomatoes EVER. It failed when it came to other food, but the stuffed peppers that came out of there were amazing. I recall preferring the peppers to the tomatoes because they weren’t as sweet. And I think I can hear her calling us home from the field to ‘eat while it’s hot’.
3. the smell of humidity and carved stone on my family’s home in the North. It was more like a carved cave, dark and humid and full of old stuff- clay pots, tools and iron coal ovens. it always had the perfect temperature there. Cool if it was hot and hot if it was cold. It served as a hideout, a dareground (like ‘go put your hand in that hole in the wall’) and well, a shower.
4. how absolutely cool it was to have a secret place in my room where I hid my flashlight. I used it to read my books under the covers as part of my revolution. Yes. My revolution was reading detective novels at the age of 10. also, after my parents discovered me and took the light away so that I might get some sleep (and stop going through books faster than a starved bookworm), I remember trying to paint faces in my mind. Much like a crude, primitive photoshop..
5. the time I nearly died in Spain. I was 7 maybe and I decided to jump in at the deep end of the pool. I had my eyes open and I remember enjoying the blue light refractions as I was going down. I can’t tell if I was afraid or not. I think I had no concept of fear back then (unless it was for the unknown). My father got me out. He dipped his big hand in the water and grabbed me as I was slowly sinking. I remember coughing a lot of chlorine tasting water afterward and nodding my head as I promised ‘never to tell mom how stupid I was when they left me alone’. I also remember keeping my promise for 3 days..

No comments:

Post a Comment