Showing posts with label moving. Show all posts
Showing posts with label moving. Show all posts

Wednesday, February 2, 2011

Ectoplasms? Ectoplasmi?

Yesterday my household goods finally arrived and just as the truck maneuvered into the driveway it went into a little patch of deep grass and ran over a large rock. The rock was only about 7 to 8 inches tall, but the truck was very low in the front. The result was that the radiator broke and fluid gushed out of it and down the driveway. Really gushed. Then one of the two men bent down to look under the truck and stood up right underneath the rear view mirror, bashing his head hard. Really hard. Then the plumber drove up and said he had been there in morning but had to leave because his power drill had broken. All this in the space of about 10 minutes.
Ieri sono finalmente arrivate le mie masserizie e proprio mentre il camion faceva manovra nel viale e` finito nell'erba alta, passando sopra una pietra. La pietra era alta non piu` di 20 cm., ma il camion era molto basso sul davanti . Il risultato e` stato che si e` rotto il radiatore e tutto il liquido e` sgorgato fuori, scorrendo giu` per il viale. Proprio sgorgato. A quel punto uno dei due uomini si e` abbassato per guardare sotto al camion e rialzandosi ha sbattuto forte la testa sotto lo specchietto retrovisore. Ma proprio forte. Quindi e` arrivato l'idraulico che mi ha detto che era stato li` quella mattina, ma che se ne era dovuto andare perche` gli si era rotto il trapano elettrico. Tutto questo nello spazio di circa 10  minuti.

At this point I said uh, oh and walked into the house, calling on my deceased parents and Padre Pio for help (he's bigger than the Pope down here). Unloading went fine after that, and everything seems to be ok, although I haven't opened anything so who really knows?
A questo punto mi sono detta oh, oh e sono entrata in casa chiedendo l'aiuto dei miei genitori non piu` in vita e di Padre Pio, che da queste parti e` piu` quotato del Papa. Dopo di cio` tutto e` stato scaricato senza ulteriori guai e sembra che ogni cosa sia in ordine, anche se non ho aperto ancora niente, quindi chi lo sa?

Of course, as always, I took photos and when I loaded them onto my computer I saw the purple blob in front of the truck. The word "ectoplasm" popped right into my head. Not that I have ever given ectoplasms much thought and surely this is caused by the reflection of the sun. But then I remembered a photo I took of myself with Photo Booth a couple of days ago and recalled wondering at the time what the heck that scary looking thing on my shoulder was.
Naturalmente, come sempre, ho scattato delle foto e quando le ho scaricate sul computer ho notato quella nuvoletta viola davanti al camion. La parola "ectoplasma" mi e` subito balzata in mente. Non che abbia mai pensato molto agli ectoplasmi e sicuramente l'effetto e` causato da un riflesso del sole. Ma poi mi e` venuta in mente una foto che mi sono fatta un paio di giorni fa con Photo Booth e mi sono ricordata che anche allora mi sono chiesta cosa caspita fosse quella strana cosa sulla mia spalla.
So what do you think? Do I need to call a priest and get out my smudge stick? maybe Ghost Busters?
Che ne dite? Devo chiamare un prete e bruciare la salvia degli Indiani americani? Forse Ghost Busters?
Meanwhile three members of the dog tribe were lounging in the sun,
Intanto tre dei signori cani si rilassavano al sole
and later in the day lined up for dinner.
mettendosi piu` tardi in fila per mangiare.

Saturday, July 4, 2009

A Stranger in a Strange Land


I have often used the expression "a stranger in a strange land" thinking that it was simply the title of Robert A. Heinlein's 1961 best-selling novel. Now I discover it is a quote from Exodus 2:22.

I read Alisa Burke's most recent posts today and they reminded me of how more and more I have had the uneasy sensation of not belonging where I am. That I am "supposed" to be somewhere else. But where?

I have lived in San Francisco for 30 years, an amazing fact given that in the 30 years prior to moving here I lived in 22 different homes in 17 different cities. The odd thing is that although this is an undeniably beautiful place on Earth, and although I have now been here for half my life, I have never felt a sentimental attachment either to the city or to the Bay Area. I don't think it comes from moving so many times in the first part of my life, because that would not explain the fact that I have longings for other perhaps less beautiful places where I have lived for much shorter periods.

So I often have these moments where I feel out of place, like I should be somewhere else, but the problem is I'm not sure where that is.

Do you ever feel like that, or are you "home"?

P.S.
It is now a little over an hour since I published this post and in visiting my regular blog "reads" I have found two posts about places where people love or don't love living, here and here. Weird. As in "mysteriously strange or fantastic".