This morning was a little ridiculous. Lucia came over to eat breakfast with me before the Celebration of the Birth of the Bab (we’re on a lunar calendar for some Holy Days here). In the span of 20 minutes, I broke 2 eggs (at different times), a full jar of minced garlic, and two cups.
Broken glass and food everywhere. And I dropped some vegetables and silverware while cooking. I’m a mess. The thing is…this isn’t normal for me. I am not a messy person, and I rarely break things. Ah well…it made for a good laugh. Maybe this is a sign that I should stay out of the kitchen for a while. 🙂
Tonight is cold and windy. Our flat is exceptionally drafty, so even though I have my heater on, my hands are slowly turning to icicles. I’m going to snuggle into bed now and enjoy my sleep.
Somehow I identify with that feeling of being discombobulated. Maybe the Januaries in Haifa and the American Midwest aren’t so different after all.
I’m with you on the drafty apartment. Our heater is on all the time, and I’m still freezing my butt off. Every time my icy hands touch the baby, he lets out a little yelp.
These are good omens of celebration and protection in some cultures (Greek, Jewish) and it’s considered a blessing to the home to break a cup or plate every now and then.