Where have I been? I hate technology. Maison Jansen. Higher stats- Who are these people? There was a book, then there wasn’t a book.

We sent the computer in to be re-formatted last Friday. The man took longer than expected. Windows 7 is very nice, except my canon camera doesn’t work with it, neither does my photo editing program etc… etc… The technology market is a scam. They force you to buy new stuff every few years by knowingly ceasing support for older products. The shame is my digital camera works perfectly and will now be retired; And I’ll have to learn the ins and outs of a whole new imaging program- one is not amused.

The few days without the computer were actually quite refreshing. It was the first time I’d spent more than 48 hours without the internet in the past 12 years. I read, I watched Judge Judy, I sat  on the lawn and played with the dogs. It was good because we had to get the house ready for a visit. Not a visit from people interested in buying the villa but from their architect, Mr. Rojas. They think we don’t have enough bedrooms. In my head I answered “What are you planning to have here, a polygamist compound?”- but I held my tongue. I ended up working myself into a frenzy before the visit, it’s something I’ve done since childhood. My grandfather even made up a little story when I was around ten in the hope that if I understood what I was doing I’d stop it. It went something like this:

It’s the Easter holidays and a man’s driving his Jaguar in the countryside. He sees a sign that says nearest town: 10 miles and soon afterwards he has a flat tire. He looks in his trunk and realizes his spare tire is also flat. He’s angry, but mainly at himself. He decides to walk to the nearest town, tire in hand. He’s reasonably calm at first but something  starts building in his mind: It’s a Sunday, the guy’s going to charge me extra to fix this on a Sunday, around $50. In fact, it’s Easter Sunday, he’s going to charge me a fortune, $100. Time lapse. When he sees it’s a Jaguar tire he’s going to think I’m rich, he’s going to charge me $150. Time lapse. By the time the man arrives in the town and finds the garage, he’s furious. Before the mechanic has a chance to speak he’s already screaming: You THIEF! $550 to fix a flat tire! You THIEF!!! How dare you! Do you think I’m an idiot?

…And in that spirit I was ready for the visit. Some self-important architect is going to come here and say my house doesn’t have enough bedrooms, ridiculous! He’s going to criticize everything… He’s going to say… He’s going to do… This is probably a ruse to use against us in the negotiations… I’ll slap him. I will you know!

The visit was nothing of the kind. The man couldn’t have been more charming and more complimentary- and I felt like quite the fool. We had wine and discussed classical painters. I showed him my Maison Jansen coffee table that arrived this week. I’ve been looking for one that I liked and didn’t cost a fortune for years. I considered this one, but  I wanted an all bronze/brass version. Then there was this one, that I love, but it was just too small… Anyway, I finally have what I want and if Mike is kind enough he’ll take some pictures for me to put up.

My stats keep climbing steadily. Not to huge proportions, although I have no idea what’s big and what’s small in blogworld. Every couple of weeks I get a new busiest day thingy. It usually coincides with a day when I don’t write at all. This week the number is 875.

I sometimes wonder who these people are and if they really having nothing better to do. Mike tells me that I find my life uninteresting because I’ve always been me…

On my prolonged disconnection from the internet I’ve been reconsidering the (a) book. Two years ago I finished writing one, got an agent, lined up a publisher, but then somebody said it was brilliant. It wasn’t brilliant. I was surprised, afraid, then slightly offended, then I pulled the plug. I think that I might perhaps use the good parts and build a new story around them. It started like this:

I was born against my will on March 23, 1978, Maundy Thursday. I fought the Caesarean section, I fought the doctor and I fought the forceps; Three hours later I had lost my first battle against the world. In protest I screamed. I screamed so loud it made the nurses shudder.