We’ve gotten into this unfortunate sort of arms race with sleep lately. We used to wake up when the alarm went off, then just before, then with a few minutes to spare. Eventually, of course, we started going to bed a bit early to make up sleep, and of course that’s when the thing went off the rails, and so when our window started crashing alternately open and shut at a quarter to five this morning, I’m sorry to say that it’s not what woke either of us up.
“There was a ‘dangerous winds’ warning yesterday,” Nick grumbled as he latched it shut. I snorted at the concept. “No, seriously,” he said, snuggling back in. “A few years ago some people died.”
“Like…in cars?” I guessed, imagining speeding cars pushed off of wet roads, or colliding to avoid falling tree branches.
“No–hit with roofing tiles.”
And that’s when Juliette began her I Know You’re Awake In There noises, so we stopped talking, but do I really need to tell you I was absolutely done with sleep for the morning? Now I’ll be looking out the stupid windows all day to make sure our neighbors’ roofs are still there.
But of course life isn’t all dangerous weather and life-threatening ceramic hail. Last night I was busily stirring a toxic-looking lump of pasta that actually turned out respectably (zucchini, eggplant, ricotta, toasted pine-nuts; we’re taking a stab at occasional vegetarian meals; love you Mary!) when Nick called out, “Hey, Carla just went by.”
My brain refused to process this; how would he know? And why would he care? “What?” I quipped cleverly.
“Carla. Just went by.”
Yep; that’s what he said. Hmm. “Are you looking out the window?” I was on fire last night I tell you.
“Yes.”
“Huh. We saw her this afternoon, actually. I’m just surprised you’d even recognize her.”
“Carla Bruni.”
Riiiiight. That clicked. The glamorous First Lady has a secret hideaway somewhere in our neighborhood. And while she’s very private and discreet about it, it’s a bit tricky to hide a battalion of armed guards or the occasional motorcade, and so Nick is quite sure that he now knows: 1) where the place is, and 2) that we see her on her way there from time to time.
And while all of this made sudden and perfect sense to me quite quickly, it didn’t fall into place quite quickly enough to prevent me from blurting out, “Oh. I thought you meant Carla, the Australian shepherd.”
‘Cause there’s one of those around here, too. Is all.