Thursday, November 08, 2007

Five-Year-Old Erica Speaks

While I sit and contemplate the glacial pace at which Sprint is dealing with my complicated phone upgrade situation whilst listening to admonitions that indicate someone will be with me shortly, I thought I'd post something. It's probably better for my longterm prospects than the other option I was considering: gouging my eyes out with office supplies. I was thinking of using the thumb drive. It doesn't seem to be working on my computer anyway, so it's no grave loss to our media storage, right?

Gruesome notions aside, some of you noticed in my image dump of yesterday that my grandfather has the library of many a book-lover's dreams. It is, indeed, a sight to behold. Let's see it again.


My, that is PRETTY.

When I was five years old, my family had moved to Patagonia, so I was living at a distance from my beloved grandparents. Fortunately, some friends of the family in the South were headed back to my hometown for a wedding and they didn't mind bringing along little ole me. My suitcase was packed and I headed out with them on the 30-hr drive. I think a rock hit the windshield while we were going along so the windshield shattered and we lost some time. That was memorable. What I failed to remember was what I said to my grandparents upon landing on their doorstep. (Direct quotes supplied by Grandpa.)

"When you die, I would like to have your house. Now, I don't want you to die, but I know that you will. When that happens, I would like your house."

Five-year-old Erica has more stones than the current model, apparently. Unfortunately, there are a lot of book-lovers in the family so I will not have undisputed claim over that beaut.

Well, they've gotten to my call and it's time to try yet another hare-brained scheme to make this work. Wish me luck, or at least the courage of my younger days.

3 comments:

Mair said...

that's hilarious, babe! I used to tell my grandma which of her jewelry I wanted when she died. She finally decided that it wasn't worth it to wait and so started giving it to me while she was alive! I doubt your grandpa will give you his house though.

The Prufroquette said...

I am in a private, silent war with my uncle over one of my grandparents' lovely little maple bathroom wall-hanging cabinets.

My other grandmother tries to unload all sorts of heirlooms on me whenever I visit. I love them all, but I keep telling her I don't have room in my house.

Can I have a share in your grandfather's library? ;) Sorry, that was totally shameless, but I had to ask, right?

Do you know what I really love? The rug on the floor. Llama? Alpaca? Some kids from my youth group went on a fakey missions trip to this Bible place down in North Carolina, and there were several of those beautiful rugs hanging on the walls. I would go right up to them and burrow into them. I've never felt anything softer in my life.

Hm, I think eBay is calling me...

E.A.P said...

It totally is the softest rug ever, Sarah. I think it's alpaca, but I don't think I've ever asked directly. No way you or anyone else can share the library, except that I miss you and I'm thinking about starting a town for all the people I love to live in together. In that case, you can totally camp out in the new Town Library. Anytime, seriously.

As to my grandfather giving me his library early, Mair, that gets complicated by the fact that I'm usually over 5000 miles away. Not so much sharing happening there, huh?