The recipe of the day was Slow Cooker Balsamic Chicken. I know it looks like the Chicken Cacciatore I made the other day but this one is made with chicken breasts instead of thighs, has balsamic vinegar instead of red wine, and lots more onions and herbs than the Cacciatore. I realized that all of the dishes I make have poultry of some sort, no beef or pork. That's because chicken breasts and turkey breasts are zero points, chicken and turkey dark meat cost points, and because beef and pork cost more points. I think maybe I'll see if I can find a recipe with similar points that uses beef or pork for next time, just for the variety.
At knitting tonight I finished the Chunky Cast Sock. It was a good thing that I knitted the decreases tonight because LB had to tell me how to decrease ribbing. I think it looks scrawny but it's really stretchy so it will fit (and warm) lots of toes.
13 November--Barbara Malcolm, The Seaview.
Once they determined that the porch was relatively safe, Silas and Edward had brought some chairs over so that I could sit there and watch the sea and sunset. That’s where Mr. Solomon and I sat.
Before I said a word Mr. Solomon started speaking. “This place is a fire trap. It is good that you had Johnno call me. One more day and all you would have owned was a pile of cinders.”
I opened my mouth and he held up a hand to stop me.
“Do not thank me now. I will have to spend a lot of time checking each and every foot of wire in the whole hotel. You are not going to be having guests here this summer, no, you are not. It is going to take a good long time to do this right and I am the man to do it.” He pulled a small notebook out of his breast pocket and grabbed the pencil that was tucked behind his right ear. “I am going to make a list of the things you need to go to Miami and get for me.” His pencil was moving furiously over the paper. “I know it will be expensive but you can not be too careful with people’s safety. I would rather you went to Miami than San Juan; the electrical supplies can be unreliable in San Juan.”
I took a breath to tell him that I had a container of construction supplies one day away from being delivered to this very place. That I had taken an acquaintance who is an electrician with me to the building supplies superstore at home and bought what he told me to. I had taken pictures of the Seaview’s rooms and measurements along, even a picture of the breaker box, so that he had some idea of what I would need. “I have…”
That was as far as I got before he interrupted me. “I am sure that you have lovely plans for painting and decorating and other girlish things but electricity is nothing to be careless with and I am not careless.”
I can be patient. Many of my friends say that I’m too patient, but the man in front of me had overstepped my patience, had trounced on it, and ground it into dust. I reached out my right hand and covered his little note pad. “If you don’t stop lecturing and stop writing, I am going to light that pad of paper on fire and then toss it into the sea. Sit up, look me in the eyes, and say ‘what would you like me to do for you, Mrs. Lambert.’”
He stopped writing. I think he stopped breathing. I saw his jaw flex and waited for an outburst. Instead he drew in a deep breath through his nose and sat back in his chair, hands falling to his lap. “What would you like me to do for you, Mrs. Lambert?”
I sat back in my chair too. “Now that’s a much better way to begin. I understand that you felt it was critical to get the power turned off immediately. Feeling how hot the wire was, I totally agree and thank you, but you have absolutely no reason to begin lecturing me as if I am stupid and you are here to save me from myself.” I let silence fall between us, the soft lapping of the wavelets and the wind in the palms the only sound. I could smell the odor of fish from the boats up the beach; the breeze also carried the fragrance of frangipani and cooking. “I am very pleased to meet you, Mr. Solomon. I was anxious to find a journeyman electrician soon so that he could do his work before the walls and ceilings are repaired and painted. Tomorrow my cargo container is scheduled to be delivered. I have already arranged with Mr. Abrahams to lease that vacant lot across the street next to the yellow house so that it can be parked in a convenient place where it will be safe. In the container should be most, if not all, of the supplies you will need to completely rewire the hotel.”
I reached into the bag I had grabbed in the lobby and put beside my chair when we came out. I pulled out a folder, checked the label, and handed it to him. “This is a manifest of the electrical supplies that are coming. I had an electrician help me select the items and we chose to go with heavy-duty everything. The wire is 12-gauge; my electrician said that would be good for just about anything. The junction boxes, switches, and receptacles are heavy-duty as well.” I let him page through the file while I looked out over Road Bay.
Silas peered out from Johnno’s and waved at me. I nodded and he started back.
“I apologize, Mrs. Lambert. I suppose I assumed that the woman who had bought the Seaview did not know anything about electricity and that I would have to take charge of the job from a frivolous woman.”
I remained silent for a few minutes to let him stew in his mistake but then I relented.
“Mr. Solomon, I’m the sister of a mechanic, the daughter of a farm boy, and my grandfathers were a carpenter and a mechanic. There are many things that I know a little about how to do, and I'm smart enough to hire experts to do work for me. I had a reason when I told Silas and Johnno that I wanted a licensed electrician, and that’s because I’m smart enough to do a job once and do it right.”
He looked all around and finally brought his eyes back to mine. “I am sorry. I do not know what else to say.”
By then Silas had gotten back to the hotel and was lounging against the porch railing.
“If you think this is something you have time to do, Mr. Solomon, I would very much like to have you work for me.”
He let out a big breath. “I think that I would like to work for you, Mrs. Lambert.”
I stretched out my hand again. “Please, call me Rose.”
He grasped my hand in his. “And you can call me Iggy.”
There was that jolt of electricity again as our hands met. I wondered how many times a man had to zap himself to store that much juice in his hands.
Today's toss was a big tote full of strings of Christmas lights, all wound neatly around cardboard so that it isn't a big snarl. Someone will thank me for that.
I was so proud of myself today. I managed to write more than the minimum number of words for NaNoWriMo. Not all of them are fiction, about half are a recounting of my day but I figure that words are words.
I am also proud that I am wearing jeans that are three sizes smaller than I wore before. When I returned the too big pair the other day I decided to get a pair one size smaller than the one I kept, just to have the incentive on hand. Well, I decided to try them on and they fit. Granted, they're stretch jeans but still, you guys, I am over the moon. I promise to stop going on about myself and losing weight but this jeans thing is blowing my mind. I'll shut up now.
--Barbara
1 comment:
You have every right to crow about going down THREE SIZES!!! At least that is one thing to be thankful for during this dreadful year. I'm glad Rose put Iggy in his place. He was turning out to be as bad as Will. And there's definitely a spark between them -- and not just because he's an electrician.
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