Wow - today L and I broke a huge antique mirror. Bummer. It was soooo fricking heavy that I had taken it down from my dining room wall. The plaster was breaking, and my husband's theory is that it was because of the weight of the mirror. I don't know if the theory was correct, but the mirror was making me nervous... since I hug it myself-- I always wondered if one day it would come crashing down.
After taking it off the wall, instead of putting it somewhere logical, I had set it against a wall, on the landing of the stairs which lead up to my room. That wall is also the front of our house, so it's partly against the window and the curtain hung over part of the mirror... it made it too easy to ignore.
So, today L blew up a balloon really really full and started making that horrible squeaking noise you can get by rubbing the balloon. He knows I hate that noise. Today it wasn't really bothering me too much, but I decided to play along with L. I tried to take the balloon. Then I got out a pin and threatened to pop it. He ran up to my bedroom and I called out, "That's fine. It doesn't bother me when you're that far away." So, he opened the door to my room, and I went and hid behind another door thinking I'd pop the balloon when L walked by with it. Only he was taking way too long to come back down so I slowly snuck out of my hiding place. I realized that he had made it most of the way down the stairs and -suddenly inspired- I jumped out at him doing the "AHA" thing. It was very very fun and funny for exactly 4.3 seconds. I guess, with L so big and physically strong, I hardly ever rough house with him any more. So, the situation, where I scared him and sent him running from me, was ridiculous (maybe nostalgic too?)
Seriously. It was so funny that when the mirror came down with this incredible crash, I wasn't even mad.
We just got to work picking up the thousands of shards. Then I sent L to his room to work on homework and I vacuumed for a solid hour trying to get the infinite tiny pieces.
Now - a few hours later - I'm bummed. I think I'm just tired. L went off to a soccer scrimmage and I'm trying to look over a history paper he has to turn in on the first day of school. (I'm not changing anything - just putting things he needs to look at -or punctuation errors etc.- in red.)
You know, I think that's what has me sad. School is starting and I hope he'll be okay. It seems like I nagged him all summer long, but we're going to be scrambling madly for the next six days to wrap up all of his summer assignments. He did learn a lot though - he thought and he read and he even wrote; he's just not as good at writing the finished product (and that, my friends, is the only thing his teacher will see on that first day.)
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OH, never said where the mirror came from. The old lady across the street died about 6 or 7 years ago. I still remember odd details: a different neighbor (Cheryl) coming to our door in the rain to tell me that the dead woman's family had come and packed up the house, but there were a few things there that nobody wanted. "Did we need a sofa?" Ha ha - I wasn't really in the mood, but Cheryl was so enthusiastic about it. I ended up lugging this incredibly heavy & UGLY sleeper sofa to my house. As I picked up my half of it I almost fell back into the wall (in which I surely would have put a hole) - This family, all strangers to me, looked on in horror. That day I brought the mirror home too. It was beautiful, but I can see why nobody wanted to take it with them. I always thought it weighed so much partly because of the backing/frame that was attached to it. Now that it broke, though, I see that it was just super thick glass.
Interesting, though. Now I see that where it was etched (down the sides) - the etching was scratched out behind the glass and then the paint was applied (the paint that makes glass reflective). I wonder if that technique is still used? Going to check that out. One of the etched side pieces survived, and I'll keep that.
Why am I going on and on about this. I don't know. You'ld think I was really going to miss this mirror, but I'm not.
In the somewhat escapist vampire book I read over vacation (& our time in NC), I learned that vampires don't respond to the new-fangled mirrors, that are unadorned with a silver finish put on in the old days. Do you think that your mirror had a silver backing Mo? If so then you do want to save that surviving shard to ward off the virally effected folk. Big problem in NYC, so many write.
ReplyDeleteOh, and Mo, check out a new scifi title if you have time to read. It's called Ready Player One and it's by first time writer Ernest Cline. I had a lot of fun with it ... it's great escapist fiction. :D