03 January 2014

safe at last

After a series of exceptionally nasty break-ins in this quiet not-at-all-posh neighbourhood we are reluctantly looking into ways of making our modest home somewhat burglar-proof. Wishful thinking, which involves the concept that there are people who want what we have. I try to look at our stash of goodies as something that may be valuable enough to be worth the effort of breaking and entering. Maybe if I put up a sign (sorry, no jewellery, no cash, ancient tv set, all electronic goods five years and older)? Over the years we have hidden away what we consider to be treasures in ingenious hiding places, some of them so ingenious that we cannot find the stuff now. There are at least three house keys buried under meaningful markers in the garden, so meaningful that we will need to dig for days and probably not find a thing.
My mother-in-law hid her jewellery in the linings of the bedroom curtains. We found out when we cleared the room before the house was sold many years after her death. Here, we have no curtains (my father thinks we are living like gypsies - and not in a positive sense) so even if we had any jewellery that option is not available.
Instead, clever people have been coming around demonstrating clever blinds, time locks, light systems, real and fake cameras and all sorts of fancy stuff. With every new gadget they show us I can see my shabby (let's face it) little house turning into an ugly and mean fortress and I think I am reaching the point where I give up. As in: Oh just come and help yourself if you are so needy, I am not going to lock myself into a bullet proof bunker etc. 
But I have been told to stop acting like a child.
So just at the right moment, the star boys, or rather: three little creatures dressed in long shiny cloaks turned up at our door, supposedly representing the three wise kings, magi, wizards whatever. They sang a little song, held out the collection box for the poor and starving misfortunates in the care of the catholic church and scribbled these magic signs above our door: 20*C+M+B+14. Apparently it translates into "christus mansionem benedicat" (may christ bless this house). So all is well again. We are safe, no?


Ms. Moon said...

Safe against something, I would say.

Rouchswalwe said...

Two weeks ago, the neighbour downstairs was burglarized. A decade ago, burglars snatched my Great-Grandmother's jewellery (it had survived 2 world wars, but not my neighbourhood). I have a few things of sentimental value squirreled away, but I know that there's not much I can do really. Most of my valuables are old books, and I doubt very much that burglars have an interest in those.

Happy New Year, dear Sabine!

Nick said...

You are, I imagine, just as safe as you always have been (how many times have you been robbed in the past?) And anyway, to quote (I think?) Mr Shakespeare, 'Who steals my purse steals trash'. (Though that's scant compensation I imagine.)