not for breaking the plate itself, you understand, it was not that he was so ungracious -- afterall it was an ordinary kitchen plate, and anyone could have broken one (though the anyone being me increased the likelihood somewhat) -- but because it happened when i was hanging about the kitchen when he had instructed me not to be in the vicinity while he cooks. he was making us an omelette for breakfast (kale, spiced lentils and squash)
and i was insisting on hovering about looking over his shoulder asking silly questions and idly shifting things about on the counter and i had just progressed to the point where he was persuaded to giving me the simple responsibility of turningthe toast over and then Crash!
he did not, i must say, turn his signature for-chrissake-woman look on me (but i think he may have counted to ten under his breath. he definitely looked ceiling-ward for the briefest of moments, though he is not wont to ask for strength) merely told me that i was bleeding all over the kitchen (i was) and to remove myself to the bathroom to make the green one red and so on. on the penitent's return the damage had been swept away and disinfectant and a band-aid awaited. "breakfast is served." he announced, "and needless to say, it is now overcooked." (i kept very quiet of course, because if that was the worst of it i think i'd got off quite lucky.)
although a while later he said: "you can never be an anthropologist."
him: "not the plates. it's because you can't stand around observing things without getting in the way."
soon after that he began putting up new shelves so i knew better than to stay in the house falling over planks and brackets, and shot out of the house on a pretend errand immediately.
"vaughn and his friend are cooking, and i'm sitting at the kitchen table with my laptop, watching them chop and sautee and stir and being completely and unashamedly unhelpful (but i did offer)
the friend brough his own home-made beer!
(well when i say i offered my services, what i mean is that i said: "erm. is there anything useful that i can do that will not cause too much damage? or will you prefer me to sit here in this corner and ask the occasional dumb question?" and vaughn, who knows me very well indeed, hastily decreed, "minz will just observe, right?")"
ere three days**, i find myself in disgrace for breaking one of von's plates.
oh naturally, i agreed, and also i never aspired to be one, but what has plates got to do with anthropology?
** and only three days ago i was doing so well and able to write this email to the world: