I walked past the terrace window tonight, forgetting I had earlier turned on all the solar lights that I had charging on the terrace. So things are flickering and twinkling away in little piles on the floor and tables and potted plants. Of course I went outside to play with settings.
In the dark.
I picked up a controller and felt for the switch. Click. It blinked then did nothing. Click. Ahh Steady on mode. Click. Hmm no light, maybe this is slow fade…. wait… nothing? Weird mode. Click. Steady on. Click. No light. Click steady on. This really is an uninteresting mode, why won’t it change to the next mode? I want them all twinkling, like fairy lights should.
It took me a few more switches and dark times before I realised I was pressing the on off switch not the mode switch.
My sister came in today.
“Want some shortbread?” I asked.
“Oh god yes I’m starved.”
I opened the fridge, pulled out the roll of dough, sliced off some bits and passed them over and stood munching.
She too was nomming down. And then she says “So, were you planning to bake these?”
“Oh my god! You’re supposed to cook shortbread? Why didn’t anyone tell me?”
“Yes, apparently. And ANZACs. Although you have to make a double mix in order to have enough left to make it worth turning the oven on.”
Apparently normal people leave school, get jobs, buy a car as their first big purchase and then eventually buy a house. I’m not normal. It’s a long time since I left school but apart from computers, this house is the first major purchase I’ve ever made.
Normal people have jobs, find a house for sale, apply for a mortgage, get the mortgage, settle on the house, get the keys and move in. I’m not normal.
Today I bought a house. My first house. Settlement was at 2:30.
I spoke to no one. No previous owner met me to show me how the sprinklers worked or where the hidden light switch was. No one even checked to see if the plumbing would hold up or if the building certificates were up to code.
I pulled up in the driveway after work and looked at MY house. I let myself in the door with the same keys I’d used to lock it this morning. I took a step and tripped over the same bag of stuff waiting to be stashed in the shedlet that I had tripped over on my way out the door this morning. I tried to see the couch in the sunroom, but the piles of my clothes I’d tossed on it over the weekend as I emptied a wardrobe obliterated it. There are boxes of xmas decorations piled on the dining table. Come to think of it, it kind of looks like I’m moving in. Or moving out. Actually, I’ve lived here since I was 9.
Hi, my name is Minuet, and I own a house (and I’m not normal).