Mortality Visited, Briefly

          How to begin? Where to begin? May we just chat for awhile? There is much that can be said about these last three months, but I trust I will be let off going into the details of the house fire. There comes a point when enough is enough. Having said that there is a legacy, one which I find very interesting, to be thought about. It would appear, at least from my perspective, that there are many levels which have been influenced by the recent event. Let me begin with the ordinary, material level.
          I don't know whether it is appropriate to think of a dwelling in terms of mortality. If it is, then our house must be considered to be mortal. Even though there is evidence to suggest that some of its roof timbers may date back to the French revolution, our house will probably outlive its current occupants by many a year, even by many a decade. That makes my life something that is passing at a depressingly high rate. Did I mention I am seventy-nine years old today? But what's in a number? It has truly been a lovely day spent in the delightful company of my two greatest loves, Lucy and Elfie.
          Getting back to the house I was very surprised to learn from Lucy, on one of her recent visits to the house, that the staircase had been demolished and was stacked outside in a neat pile of broken timber. Now this has a rather funny side to it. You see, the electrician is supposed to have completed his repairs before the staircase chappie began his work. That was to be followed by more carpenters to repair the floors and then the painters and decorators. It is fast becoming a "Comedy of Interferences." When these two artisans get to meet, we will be many kilometres away receiving lessons on how to behave with a dog. I think that it is supposed to be Elfie receiving the training, but you know how these things turn out.
          We lost a great deal of our possessions in the fire, many of which should probably have been jettisoned long ago. On the other hand, it would have been more pleasurable if all my Indian spices and other commodities had disappeared at a more sedate rate of consumption. Fire is so quick, and the house stank for days of burnt cumin seeds. We did take this opportunity to "downsize" somewhat, a particularly horrible word that. We ditched stuff. That's the long and short of it, and felt lighter and more relieved as a result. It must be said, however, that it wasn't a painfree operation.
          At this stage I think I will leave you to chat amongst yourselves for awhile. Me? I'm having another glass of wine. Please, help yourselves.