Synchronism

Mr X usually leaves his office at four o'clock sharp. But today, his brother calls him with good news. They chat a while, and it's finally eleven after four when he walks out the door.
Walking the ten blocks to his apartment, he sudenly decides to grab a bottle of wine for his supper and alters his path accordingly.
On tiny Wilson Street, a shortcut to the liquor store, Mr X passes by a fifteen stories apartment building.
A window washer slips, falls from his hanging platform and lands right on top of Mr X.
They are both killed instantly.

"Freak Accident" says one newspaper. "Random Bad Luck" says another.
"Accidents just happen" people tell his grieving mother.

OR DO THEY?

What did it take for Mr X to be at that PRECISE PLACE, at that PRECISE TIME?
How many circumstances had to cooperate?

Let's not even consider the washer, who fell and landed at 4:22 that day.

If Mr X's brother had not applied for a job?
If Mr X's brother had not gotten the job?
If Mr X's brother hadn't want to tell his brother right away?
If their chat had ended two minutes earlier or five minutes later?
Mr X debated whether to go to the gym or to cook a good supper with a bottle of wine. What if he had chosen the gym?
Mr X just missed the light and waited for 2 minutes before crossing the intersection that led to Wilson Street. What if he had caught the light?
He chose to walk on the north sidewalk because the South one looked muddy.

All this had to happen for him to be at the exact spot at the exact second when the washer fell. Add to that the set of circumstances leading to the washer falling from that window at the exact time and spot. Can we really talk of coincidence? Or of events unfolding EXACTLY as they were meant by who knows what? Once you think about it, it’s the case for every event in our life, good or bad.

I came to this by reflecting on how my killing a cat had come to happen… I had to leave the office at a precise time, I caught one green light, one red light, I decided on going to the grocery store first, the pick-up decided to pull RIGHT in front of me instead of waiting for the empty street right after me… a 30 seconds difference and I would have had the time to break and not hit it… a freak accident? I find it very hard to swallow… it took too much coordination…something crucial about the universe is eluding me...

SO SORRY

I was driving to the grocery store, not very fast, on a completely residential street full of brand new houses. A pick-up truck decided to pull out from its entrance and pull right in front of me, even though the street was deserted. I grumbled. A ton of water that was in the back for some reason drained out of it as it pulled. I was maybe 3 meters behind the truck.

Then it happened so fast, but so clearly. Suddenly in the midst of the gushing water there was a... cat!... he looked puzzled as he fell, he hadn't even turned back on its four paws, so he really looked like a little fuzzy doll falling thinking: "Wooooah".

Right under my car. I hit the breaks to a complete stop in a big screech of tires. I thought "Oh no. Oh no." I looked in the rearview mirror, hoping to see a furry shape speeding away. I got out of my car slowly, willing the cat not to be still under it. But he was. I couldn't avoid it. I partially ran over its head. Its back limbs were flailing in agony. A small teenager cat with long hair and a head deformed and half-crushed under my tires.

I've never EVER run over anything. Much less a CAT. There was no way I could avoid it. If the truck had not pulled right in front of me, the cat would have fallen behind, on a clear road, unharmed. As it was, it fell from the truck right under my wheels.

The owner and driver of the truck somehow got that something had happened and stopped and backed-up. When he found out what had happened, he cursed loudly. Out of their 3 cats, this one was the favorite, he said. He just walked away to his house, and I couldn't believe he would even come near enough to see. I couldn't leave. By then my eyes were full of tears. I asked a neighbor who was standing there, watching the whole thing with sympathy: "Do you have the courage to put it out of its misery?" "It's dead", he answered. I looked down, and indeed, mercifully, the body was now still. But its agony had lasted two endless minutes. The owner finally came over with a garbage bag in which he scooped his poor little cat.

I drove away and sobbed like a five year-old. I killed a cat! I did. Of all creatures, my dearest one. I got my heart broken numerous times before as beloved cats were ran over. I'm always so sad when I see the body of a cat on the side of the road, but this time, I'm the culprit. One second it was alive and bewildered, the next it was horribly maimed and in agony. By my hand, well my car.

I'm still crying. Shrug in contempt if you will. It breaks my heart.

The Lovely Garden

Canada Day

Today was Canada Day, a statutory holiday. Since it is mid-week, the weather was tricked into being gorgeous sunshine instead of our usual weekend grey skies.

The pool was ready and inviting. There was an armload of fresh laundry flapping in the light wind, drying in the sun.

Then Brigitte had the idea of starting a fire in the fire pit to try and burn the accumulated branches and leaves that had been there a while. It had been too rainy and wet to burn before. And indeed, it was still very humid, and the fire exhaled a thick, fragrant smoke. Very lasting, persistent, insidious, fragrant smoke.

After she had to do the same laundry a second time to get the smoke smell out, Brigitte forgot her pyre ambitions and settled in her lounge chair with a book and frequent dips.

A lovely day, as illustrated below.

Sheer delight

A rosebush

Another rosebush

The Edible Chronicle (for my sister-in-law)

Loukhi being grossly disrespectful