God Jul
Vi innledet julen med midnattsmesse i il Doumo; selv setter jeg pris på at man ikke behøver å delta (i form av synging), og som ikke-troende er det jo stilig med røkelse, prosesjoner, og greier. Settingen er det ingenting å si på! Vi var (for) tidlig ute, så vi fikk flotte plasser veldig langt frem.
Julen starter jo efter at man har vært i messe; vi betrakter nå 24. desember som en hverdag, og feirer jul 25. En seksretters middag som begynte med prosecco klokken 13 og ble avsluttet med en leskende øl klokken 01:00; Hustruen svinger seg til stadig nye høyder, selv om jeg var ganske fornøyd med min fiorentina grillet over glørne i ovnen i daglistuen.
For reasons too complicated to discuss here, the monthly letter from Amex is sent to Hustruen rather than to me. Thus, she is not only able, but also in some senses obliged, to study the prinout of where my card has been used. As we were disussing the merits of reading books on the principles of designing buildings (and more generally, any structure meant for human "consumption") which in it's two volumes (A Pattern Language - Towns, Buildings, Construction and The Timeless Way of Building) set me back about 100 euros, and the fact that as I had surfed looking for them, I had also picked up the magnificentA fish called Wanda, and some other goodies. All in all, her inqueries were not entierly unreasonable. While I was trying to fend off questions with fuzzy answers designed not to expose my Amazon addiction, the doorbell rang. The Mailman (who is a lady) supplied me with (yet) another grey package from Amazon; do I need to say anything about the way Hustruen looked at me? I opened, and fealt slightly uneasy by looked at the book; I was convinced I explicitly had refrained from adding Accidental Empires: How the Boys of Silicon Valley Make Their Millions, Battle Foreign Competition and Still Can't Get a Date to my basked. Has my addiction become so strong that even when I decide to refain, my (trembling) fingers still click?
Great was the relief when I by looking at the receipt realized I was still sane: It was a gift from a czar of cynicism. Thank you!
Bildet er tatt akkurat i det jeg efter julemiddagen skal sette meg ned men en sigar, et glass Cognac, og min nye bok om A Pattern Language - Towns, Buildings, Construction. Sigaren fikk jeg i gave da vi feiret 20. års bryllupsdag, og den kom fra min humidor (også det en gave).
For ordens skyld: Høyttaleren er del av hjemmekinoen.
Link
<< Home