My Annual Fasching Dodge.

A tale of two villages.

For some reason I don't really enjoy the Fasching procession as much as Bob. He went all out and costumed up as an knight, looking very spiffy indeed. Today had turned cold after a week of extremely warm weather which was not so nice as fancy dress costumes are more for show thus far from warm and comforting. Although, they always do serve plenty of schnapps to warm the cockles of any heart.

Knowing that they would come past our house made me plan an afternoon away from it. A bunch of tidly cops, robbers, cowboys and ladybugs trying to ply one with a drink isn't my sort of thing.

I had to use a cunning escape route in order not to run into them. Passing them would have been impossible and to make matters worse, the Deutsch Schützen crowd had the same idea. There I was plotting my path to my folks's house evading two lots of processions. At least I had a nice afternoon at my folks chatting and catching up.

Bob was already home when I got back and extremely hungry and tired. Being a good wife I made him a couple of slices of toast. One with a generous portion of nut butter and the other with a savory spread of chopped bell peppers. In my haste to make the toast, I grabbed a red bottle from the fridge and smeared it a healthy portion on the toast. Well, it didn't take long for Bob to start coughing and splattering along with accusing me of toast sabotage.

It was so hot ( taste ) that he couldn't feel his tongue anymore. I for one was stumped as to why he didn't like the taste of it seeing that I often make it for his lunch. Suddenly, the penny dropped. In my haste I had grabbed the wrong red bottle from the fridge...this one was a mix of chopped red hot chillie and salt! Ah, he married well...

Biggi