Thursday, January 14, 2016
Daniela and Mike have a deep-pile shag rug on their living room floor.
I was sitting on the rug.
My earring fell off.
My big, bright, sparkly, knuckle-dusting Christmas Eve earring - as hard to miss as a Christmas cracker.
We found two almonds, three crackers, half a walnut and a raisin before we found that earring.
Mike reckoned that if we expanded the search beyond the immediate area where I was sitting, we might have enough to serve up to his sister's new boyfriend when he came for Christmas day lunch.
Mike is a composer and a singer. A very good singer. The boyfriend came into money five years ago, bought a guitar and collected a band of like-minded two-chord enthusiasts. As he layered raisins and cracker crumbs on a plate, Mike played us a recording of the boyfriend's latest, and it was a very special recording - like the last Karaoke song of the night before the bar closes and the microphone is pried away from the leftover lush. We felt for him, and suggested a vacuum cleaner with a stocking tied over the hose. To dig up the good stuff.