A week or so ago I got such an electric jolt in my kitchen that I started bleeding from my left thumb. All I remember is a deafening sound. This was a first, and it took me a while to get my bearings. I was barefoot on ceramic tiles and my hands were wet. As soon as I collected my wits about me, I called my builder. He was surprised. He promised to send the electrician who had wired the kitchen, but nothing much happened for a while. Miro Kopčalić, who owns a few houses in Motovun and who is a builder himself, checked the current in my kitchen yesterday afternoon. He told me I was lucky to be alive. “Are you sure no-one wants you dead?” he chuckled. He found that the ground wires were alive in three out of four electric plugs above the kitchen counter. He immediately checked the two bathrooms, as well, but everything was in order there. Electricity and water can be deadly, he explained. I called my builder again. The electrician will be with me sometime today. Miro is a bit of a character, but he seems to know a fair deal about electricity. It indeed appears I got lucky once again. How many more lives do I have to spare, though?