Yearly Archives: 2004

Last night we went to bed kind of late – around midnight or there abouts. When the tv went off and the lights were out, darkness fell and I got into my regular falling asleep position. It was then, in the silence of the night, that I became aware of an erie sound coming from outwith the walls of our house.

At first I was sure it was a bird, like an owl or something, but as it continued I couldn’t help but think the cry was one of distress. I lay still, piercing my ears against the background noise from the main road, trying to make out the muffled wail more clearly.

After ten minutes or so Fliss got up to better listen for the sound and discovered that it wasn’t an animal, but a woman in the house next door apparently crying, sobbing even, and in what seemed like great distress.

Once we knew what the noise was it became all the more disturbing. Why was the woman next door crying? Why was she crying at half past midnight on a Sunday at that? Not to mention that she was sobbing with the heart rending despair usually associated with bereavement.

We know the man next door only as Mike, and although we’ve exchanged pleasantries in passing, while washing the car, that kind of thing, we’ve never really gone beyond that. He keeps himself to himself, we do the same and I guess that aside from the lack of interaction he’s the perfect neighbour. But now the woman who lived with him was crying, wailing even, and for what reason?

As the crying went on for twenty minutes, half an hour, and beyond, I wondered what could be wrong. Could something terrible have happened to Mike?

Just the thought that kind of thing had my mind racing for so long that, before I realised it, the sobbing had subsided and an uneasy silence had fallen upon the darkness. It wasn’t the kind of faux–silence we get every other night, with the drone of the nocturnal traffic and the occasional distant roar of a departure from the airport. This was the kind of silence where I could feel every second ebbing away, and the knowledge that someone nearby was in the kind of distress only eased by the comfort of sleep only served to bring a troubled sleep for myself.

Recently I’ve been throwing together this stir fry concoction for myself after having a flash of inspiration while shopping about a month ago. Not sure how it all came together, I just remember seeing this chili and ginger sauce and thinking man, that would go nice in a stir fry, but knew deep down that I didn’t have the patience for that kind of thing.

Which is when the question hit me – At what point did my life get so busy, so cluttered by the distraction of playing games, watching tv or using the internet, that I couldn’t spare ten or fifteen minutes to cook myself a meal?

What the hell! I decided in response – even if I didn’t go through with it I was only wasting a couple of pounds worth of ingredients. I picked up a pack of noodles, some loose chicken, and a jar of Uncle Ben’s extra spicy sweet and sour sauce. I knew it was a safe bet that Fliss wouldn’t touch this particular culinary delight with somebody else’s bargepole, so my desire for extra spicy wasn’t tempered with the need to make it extra mild for her.

By that point I was warming to the idea rapidly, so much so that I went back for the Chili and Ginger sauce that I’d seen. It was on the shelf beside another bottle of even more ferocious sauce that had a warning on it along the lines of Danger! – Know what you’re fucking doing before you buy this stuff.

My hand hovered momentarily between the two bottles. In for a penny? I dared myself, knowing that Fliss wouldn’t be touching the stuff anyway. However, scorching my internal organs was maybe beyond the scope of this particular experiment. Good sense took hold and I chose the milder version of the sauce, which as it turned out to have plenty of kick to it anyway.

After throwing all the stuff together in the frying pan and letting the heat take its course, I had myself one of the most delicious meals I’d had in ages. Fantastic is an understatement, I mean, I never cook. Ever. I make pasta and the occasional omelette if I’m feeling motivated – if I was a super here my special power would be Microwaving, or taking stuff out of the freezer and placing it in the oven. This whole ingredients and effort extravaganza was revolutionary down in Foxy town.

Fliss picked up her ring on Wednesday as planned – the alteration to the size being completed without much of a noticable difference to the band. I had wanted to be there with her when she got it, but as it turned out she kept the ring in its box so that I could put it on for her when I got home that night.

The ring is really nice too – sparkly without being overstated, which I think is something all too common with engagement rings. It was pretty cool to finally see her wearing it, and quite a novelty too since Fliss doesn’t wear jewellery, except for earings and a necklace sometimes.

Now we’re both signed up for the big show at some point – who’d have thunk it back when we first met all those years ago? We were reminiscing about this a few days ago and I remembered thinking that she was pretty annoying the first night we met, as she kept saying the words to something on tv before they happened. Funnily enough she still does it now, occasionally, but as I’ve found out – it’s the least of my worries – it’s her hogging the Sky remote that’s the worst! :o)