it was bound to happen, and that it did on such a tea filled weekend seems apt. but, oh, the horrors. i was rinsing it of it's soapy water and i knew it was going to break as soon as it squeaked away. interestingly, it is not the first, or even second, but third! drinking vessel broken in the last seven days.
first, while pulling something from the dish rack i bumped one of my very expensive (but got cheap) riedel whiskey glasses and it fell into the small sink with the disposal. those crystal glasses break furiously and it seemed that i may have lost a few pieces down the rabbit hole. since there wasn't much else to do, i flipped the switch to find out... nope! all good there. but, now i am down to two.
then, just one evening later i was casually walking (shuffling?) through the dining room with a piece of bread in one hand and a glass of wine in the other, when my slippered foot caught a tiny popped up nail in the floor. that little thing grabbed my foot and i went down like a sack of rocks, first landing on my left knee, then on my right arm and hand. yep, the one holding the wine glass. once i quit writhing around while holding my knee, and once i quit yelling at the dog, the deaf dog, to stop licking up the wine (and possibly the broken glass) - he had already eaten the bread - i looked to see if i had cut my hand. luckily, i try really, really hard not to hold wine glasses by the bowl, but by the stem (i hate looking at all my smudgy fingerprints). i think if i was less sophisticated, the cut could have been worse. still, it was kinda icky.
i have a lot of glassware and drinking things in my house, now i have three fewer. thankfully i have a second tea cup like the one that broke, one i liked even better because of the glazing (but fractionally so since i never could tell them apart) so i think i can soldier through. i shudder to think that these little accidents might have anything to do with anything at all except coincidence, so let's just let me believe that, shall we? the alternatives are so unappealing.
and, i feel like i should mention that i slipped and fell on the ice today, going down, again, like a bag of bricks. between the slipper/wine incident and falling into the fire pit i think this last one qualifies as a hat trick. luckily these kinds of things are supposed to come in threes. right?
a little love for the one that squeaked away... prophetic? maybe so....
and yes, as i continued to bleed, i got out the nail setter and pounded that little bastard back into the floor.