Sunday
I'm picking up with yesterday's cliffhanger; nothing but café internetting happened today, anyway. When we returned from dinner (Saigon Stud1 update in the comments), maintenance had left the premises. We suffered no more powergeists throughout the weekend. We'd checked all the extension cords, routers, portable drives, laptops, and audiovisual components; everything lit, hummed, and blinked properly except the poor DSL modem. They tell us it will be available maybe Monday. I'm tempted to lament: "why us?" and we each have a theory. Sunshine's is gracefully simple with domesticated anima attraction: our house felt abandoned by us--this electrical issue is the architectural equivalent to a housecat peeing all over our suitcases. My own supposition requires backstory: one week before yesterday, Sunshine and I accompanied our Delhi friends to a coworker's house for a traveling rug vendor's display. When we arrived, the erudite man was flipping anecdotally through a two-foot stack of piled carpets--Persian, Indian, Turkish, beautiful--each more baroquely exotic than the one before. When we left that house, it was under the burden of a richly red eighty-year-old Iranian throw. None of this struck me as particularly M.R. Jamesian2,3 until we converted the currency and were surprised to discover that the US price was entirely composed of a devilish number of sixes. Gulp. We went ahead with the sale, however; but that night Sunshine woke into a too-realistic dream of presences in the room, and I was roused by a particularly creepy nudge and whisper from her in turn: "There are people sitting over there so I’m going to turn on the light, okay?" Gulp. Now our beautiful exotic carpet is in our own dining room, and the power has become haunted. I cannot see any way this scientific effect and superstitious cause are not related. [Cavin]
this had happened to Mr. Cavin by 8:59:00 PM
Then, a 5 sided conversation ensued...
Saigon Stud Update: on our walk to and from dinner last night, at various spots around District One, I drew the entirety of my eleventh Street Stud hand in this order: the Three spades, Ten spades, Wild Joker, King spades, and King hearts. That’s a pretty good hand with trip Kings the House will have difficulty beating.
Be nice.
Make friends.
And take Very Good Care of their carpet. Maybe someday they'll let me, uh, you fly it.
Wow, I am so jealous. My parents brought 3 beutiful persian rugs back from Iran when we were there and they are incredibly beautiful. I looks like you not only got a rug, but a family. Have you had any more experiences?
No, no more experiences that I'm aware of. I'm keeping my eyes open, however (and frankly, I am walking across the rug with my shoes off every chance I can get to, ah, keep the haunted thing under my observation).
Man, you should have seen the carpets this guy had. I wish we'd spent an even more ludicrous amount of money: there were so many old storied works of art. Many were way too big for today's house, but what about tomorrow's? I really liked the Persians, too; but I think the Kashmiri designs were my faves. They were all about trees full of flowers and animals in their ornate, carpet-coded way. The Iranian rug we got was made by some specific group, and I'll be able to tell you a lot more some other day. The history is somewhere in the post.
I love those Kashmiri rugs too! They are different, and beautiful. I like that they have a bottom and top, just like a picture. All of the rugs at Target are four ways symetrical. Boring!
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