Out of Sight, Out of Mind

What I cannot see does not exist.

Wait, wait now. All of you who know me, stop waving your hands in the air yelling "What happened to the 21st century open-minded lover of and believer in science and technology?!" and let me elaborate a little.

I'm not talking here about a distant galaxy billions of light years away from Earth that we cannot see but it's there nonetheless. And I'm not talking about a tiny microbe floating about in our bloodstream which we cannot see, but it's there nonetheless making us sick and all. What I AM talking about here is...dirt.

Yes, dirt. The one in my house. Particularily the one hiding along the wooden beams up along the ceiling or in the little nooks and crannies that are all over the apartment. Oh, I know it's there, but I choose to believe it is not. Why? Because I choose to ignore it and leave it there be. When you live at the top floor of a chalet-type house with a sloping roof and huge exposed wooden beams crisscrossing each other above your head, you tend to be the victim of all kinds of dust collecting on, behind and in between those beams high up there and undisturbed.

Of course I can disturb it. And how. But seriously people (who know me) what guess you? Would I'd rather spend my time reading about the latest cancer research developments, or the latest supernova discovered, or would I rather spend my time perched up 4m high on a rackety lader with a mooshy wooshy dust thingie swatting at dust bunnies??

Correct. And therefore, to make myself feel less (if not at all) guilty about my preferrence in daily activities, I've chosen to believe that what (dust) I cannot see does not exist. Period.

I should mention here that my lovely husband (who knows me better than I even know myself) has conveniently volunteered to go after those dust bunnies himself next spring. How I love the man!

Only in Switzerland

Imagine going to your friendly neighbourhood butcher shop to buy your meat for the week. Now imagine your freindly neighbourhood butcher handing you your bag with goodies and saying, with a freindly smile: "That comes to 72.00 swiss franks sir." Ok, now imagine that you reach in your pocket and realize you've forgotten your wallet at home. Keep imagining. Imagine, just for a second, that you smile back at your friendly neighbourhood butcher and say: "Oh gosh, I seem to have forgot my wallet, but thank you for the meat, I'll be sure to pay you next week when I'm in." Still with me? Now imagine, just for a split second, that your friendly neighbourhood butcher, still smiling his friendly smile, hands you the grocery bag, thanks you for shopping at your friendly neighbourhood butcher shop and even holds the door open for you so your son can roll out on his tricycle. A nice euthopian dream, no? No.

That just happened to my husband this morning. Only in Switzerland. Well, hold on, that's not entirely true. Because, you see, I'm not sure if that would have gone down like that somewhere in Zurich or Geneva. But in this little, sleepy, swiss Alp village, it sure does. In this little, sleepy, swiss Alp village, where (for better or for worse...and in this case, for better) "everybody knows your name, and they're sure glad you came", even if you came without your wallet. After all, they know where you live!

Turns out my husband forgot a couple of things and I'm on my way now (soon as I finish typing) back to our friendly neighbourhood butcher shop to get them. Oh, and pay the bill!

"All (little) Eyes On Me, In The Center of the Rink (Uh, I mean shower), Just Like A Circus" ... Uh huh!

Pop Quiz: How do you shower while you're being watched by two curious two-year-olds?
Answer: Very fast!

Yesterday morning I jump in the shower, just like any morning. About two minutes into it, as I'm humming along, the bathroom door swings open and two two-year-olds rush in, splat their faces on the shower door and yell: Whatcha doin'? Whatcha doin'?

For the love of God and all that is holy!!!

Any normal person with half a brain in their scull would have locked the door of the bathroom as they go in to have a shower knowing their son and his little girlfriend are playing around in the house. I, however, posess no gray matter and therefore forgot to do that. Yes, I was lucky, one of my observers was my son and the other, a girl. Yes, I realize it could have been worse - they could have been twelve with an iPhone in hand and access to the internet. But STILL! Imagine trying to shower with two little flat noses against the shower door and four little curious eyes staring at you. What the hell were we thinking when we bought a glass shower door anyway? No, not tinted glass. No, not frosted glass either. Just plain, seethrough glass. Well I'll tell you what we were NOT thinking. We were surely not thinking that about three years into the future we'll have a son and he'll have a friend and one day Momma's gonna forget to lock the bathroom door when she went in to have a shower.

"Whatcha doin' now?"
"Well, now I'm lathering up with the shower gel, making lots of bubbles..see the bubbles? See?"
"And now? Whatcha doin' now?"
"Well, now I'm shaving my leggs."
"And whatcha doin' now?"
"For crying in the sink, don't you kids have anything more interesting to do out there???!!!"
"No."

I tell ya, I shall never forget to lock the darn door ever again! Even when I'm all alone in the house!