Sometimes, the sounds from the new fridge remind me of the sea, the soft swishing noise of waves on smooth sand, coming and going. As a child and long before I ever actually saw the sea, one of my life goals was to live by it. I grew up in a place with flat sandy soil, forests of pine trees planted in neat rows by 18th century land owners, carp ponds and streams full of tadpoles and hot dry summers. My mother's lawn would turn yellow during the weeks of water shortages. We held competitions to see who could walk the longest on the hot soft tarmac.
But that new fridge with all its space ship looks of grey stainless steel is dodgy. It bangs about, expanding and whirring, sending shots of noise through the night making not only the cat jump. The smart young service technician laughed at me while we sat there in front of the silent fridge and he emptied the cup of coffee and shook his head again, you can always try and record it, send it by email, but frankly... and off he went.
Of course R did just that and now we are waiting for a replacement fridge. The thrills of modern living.
The iron supplements are getting me there, I think. My batteries are charging it seems but frankly... The cat was not amused when I abandoned opening the tin of cat food last Sunday morning and instead ever so delicately crashed onto the carpet. Admittedly, it was a much easier and less dramatic spell than previous ones also because I am getting quite good at it. If I may say so. There are certain swishing noises and little shots inside my head (?) that precede it.
My GP dutifully checks my pulse, my blood pressure and ties me down for one of these 3 min ECGs. But of course, all is well. I probably should get some smelling salts. Or instal CCTV in the house.