A Bench Is Made To Reveal Its True Colours.

Another stage in our divine quest of a simpler life & lifestyle.

Give a man a tool, and he'll be happy for the rest of the afternoon...
The other day, while I was lounging in our garden corner, I had this vision of changing the colour of the benches. With great care and verbal tip toeing, I laid out my plans to Bob, because after all he'd be doing the stripping etc. Oh, it took a bit of convincing but once he'd seen the vision, enthusiasm abounded...

We are blessed with an abundance of space and old furniture. This greenish bench ( why does anyone paint over wood? ) is our prototype and thankfully the paint curled back in deference to the heat gun!

Lots of nooks and crannies to be stripped. The door you can see at the top belongs to our pig stye ( no really, a real one ) and might be next in line.

Bob's discovered the joy of stripping....ooh hoo!

This is a small glimpse of the finished bench...isn't it marvelous and cheerful? All it took was a few hours of work and it will give us years of joy, while looking at it.

Biggi

Now I Know Why It's Called A Nursery.

Tender love and care among others...

Some people nurse a hangover, some nurse a child and some nurse a grudge but Le Bob and I are a tick different. Oh yes, even though we admittedly could own up to a lot of the previous things, Bob and I have just finished nursing a handful of Brussels sprout plants.

Ooh, I can hear you loud and clear...

" My God, these two lead such an exciting life! "

...growing the one vegetable that most of you hate on top of it. We are daredevils indeed!

Bob saw the fledgling plants in spring and with the enthusiasm of first timers, we proudly signed up for this new lot of nursing. And nursing it is. Each and every day we had to water this lot and as the rain is a bit scarce this summer, it meant dragging watering cans to hydrate them.

Granted, it was divine seeing them grow and grow and we nearly passed out with happiness when we saw the first little mini sprouts forming on their stems. For us it was a huge success and we had a few envious looks at how big and strong these plants were getting. They were thriving in our kitchen garden.

Thriving until yesterday that is. Bob had had enough of seeing the tell tale signs of snails trying to pipe us to the pot. He had been threatening to harvest and uproot them for a while, but I had pleaded a bit of patience so that the mini cabbages could get a bit more plump and well rounded.

Well, when Bob has an idea it is nigh on impossible to stop him ( once he cut down the front lot of shrubs with such gusto, that we were in the public eye all through that summer ). I was sitting and reading my book, when in came Bob holding a bowl.

Dejected and disappointed was the only way to describe Bob and to be honest, so was I. There was the harvest of at least four month of nursing. Nursing daily, even imitating Prince Charles and having conversations with them. Our average sized salad bowl was only half full and when we boiled our spoils, it was just enough for the two of us.

One meal only.

Imagine all that water over the months for a plate of vegetables. How many Brussels sprouts are tipped into the rubbish bin after an impossible attempt to make your kids like them?

Oh well, better to nurse a kitchen garden than to nurse a dreaded hangover!

Biggi

The Essence Of Our New Lifestyle Seems To Be In A Jar Of Riebeseljam.

A family visit and food?

A life lived in South Africa is unique and also fortunate ( for some that is ). Most women have the luxury of a maid and the life that goes with it. Manicured nails for a starter. Something that went out the window very quickly for me, after the first few weeks of doing my own housework.

Perhaps that lifestyle of having maids and gardeners is one of the reasons why a lot of South Africans living overseas are on the social media platforms lamenting their departure from the shores of that somewhat cushy way of life.

Mum phoned yesterday to invite us to for a ' grill-evening ' which we always look forward to because of its good food and divine wine! Not forgetting the company which has swelled by two. Family from S.A. is here for just over a week. Nice! ( Hee hee, on the way there Schatzi & I played Rock, Paper, Scissors as to who would be the designated driver...not me! )

As I knew that we'd have ice cream, I casually suggested to Bob that we should make Riebeseljam as a topping for the ice cream. I didn't have to ask twice. We were making jam.

Last night while we were sitting there, we were asked a few times:

" Really, do you like living here? Are you sure. Bob, be honest! "

and you know what, both of us didn't hesitate for a second. Perhaps they didn't believe us or perhaps they thought that no one would like living in such a tiny village.

But here's the thing. It is because we are fortunate enough to live in a small place, and a wonderful place like Eisenberg to boot ( and of course being close to family ), that we are thriving in our new life.

Making jam might seem insignificant, but it is the essence of what we love about our life & lifestyle here in Burgenland. To make this jam, we took two bowls and meandered down our lane to one of our neighbours house. On the way, we stopped and had a few chats with some other neighbours ( oh yes, no one is hiding behind two meter high garden walls ).

A lady had kindly offered us her Riebesel fruit and all I had to do was knock on her door and tell her that Bob and I would pick them. While we did, she came and chatted to us. Lovely. Just as we finished, her neighbour, who has a huge cherry tree ( co-incidentally Bob had eyed those cherries earlier ) invited us to pick as many as we'd like the following week. Just like that!

The cherry on the cake ( ! ) is the pure and simple truth, that only since we've moved here do we have the luxury of spending quality time together such as making jam...and making jam is one of those activities that shows you how a simple life can be the best life..

Biggi

Ventilate, Ventilate And Ventilate...

One of the joys of living in the Northern Hemisphere!

Whatever happened to the rallying mantra issued by Beauty Queens throughout the ages Moisturize, moisturize and moisturize some more ? A much more pleasant way to control the humidity for our skin.

Winter is magical, pure and exciting except for that little know detail of having to ventilate your home. Well, our home is not some new age automated ventilated abode but one where the art of manual ventilating is still practiced. Twice a day is the norm and often against all odds I adhere to it.

Most houses are nice and cozy inside but open a window or step outside and you instantly get to understand how cold winter actually feels. Freezing and that is with just one window open a tad bit. A dropped parental hint ( or more of a stricture ) was mentioned when we first moved in:

" It is imperative that you open all and every window for at least 10 minutes twice a day. If you don't, your house will have humidity problems and get mould."

Let me tell you, that the odds I had to overcome where the constant shouts of:

" Are you crazy? Shut the window. It's bloody freezing outside."
" Shut the windows, you letting all the mosquitoes in! "

in a way it is understandable for both of us to worry about the cold. Southerners are a bit more thin skinned and feel the cold ever so quickly.

The first two years we have been diligent with the ventilating ( by the way, it should be done all year round ) with some lapses when the odds carried favour. Some winter days it was too cold and some summer days there were too many mosquitoes...

Our area has been inundated with rain this last year making the ground soaked. Moisture is everywhere and alas, a smidgen of mould has made itself felt. When Bob saw and smelt it, he changed his mantra of :

" Shut the windows please, to ... ventilate, ventilate but for goodness sake hurry up already."

Life in our house is never boring and always entertaining...

Biggi

Boys And Their Toys.

My gosh, they do start young...

Somehow you get used to the bigger boys ( i.e grown ups ) boasting about their lot in life. The better car, house, holiday, wife and smarter children. Oh, the list is endless. But who knew, that it already starts at the age when they attend kindergarten?

It must have been the remnants of Christmas spirit because I can't explain it any other way. My two English students ( age 4 & 5 ) were angelic from the first minute to the last. It doesn't say much for my managing ability to admit that this is not normal. Whereas I drove my parents crazy with the eternal phrase used in any backseat of a parental car:

" Are we there yet? "

often the boys drive me crazy with :

" When is the lesson over? " which is far from nice to hear 5 minutes in and makes me quake in my boots! At times, 60 minutes seems like 600 minutes.

Anyway, as it was the first lesson after Christmas I asked them what the " Kristkindel " brought. Oh yes, they are still at that age. Lovely. Their eyes were sparkling and it almost seemed like they didn't have enough time to devote to all those gifts they had received.

" I got a helicopter."
" And I got a big police station. Bigger than any helicopter! "

It was amazing for me to see the two boys thinking of ways to outdo each other in regards to their Christmas presents. At one point, if I hadn't intervened a small display of fisticuffs might have ensued. Really boys?

As young as they are, they know instinctively how to wound the other one with deeds and words. The most important invite they could get and give at that age was used as the proverbial dangling and just out of reach carrot:

The invite to each other's Birthday Parties. Of course when I asked them when their party was, they were a bit clueless, apart from who to invite, who not to invite and of course the divine cake their mums would bake for them.

Seeing a few glimpses of life through their eyes is rather educational, fun, never boring and a privilege. Oh, and I almost forgot to say, that I am beginning to realize how much power a 5 year old can wield in his realm.

Biggi

So, You Really Want To Be A Famous Actor?

Most of us dream of being a success in Hollywood.

They are idolized, over paid and usually extremely beautiful or handsome. What is not to like about actors? As a viewing public we fall in love with these actors or rather the character they portray.

Bond fever is gripping Austria at the moment. Hardly surprising when you consider that part of the new Bond epic is being filmed in a beautiful part of Austria. Naturally they picked a snowy & mountainous region, as most of the world thinks of Austria as purely a place of skiing and where Heidi visits her Grandpa.

The next next Bond epic should do a detour in our well suited and stunning part of Burgenland...007 could change from savouring a non stirred Martini to a well swirled Blaufränkisch!

By the way, if you think that swirling your wine professionally in a wine glass is easy, think again. I have often tried and had to deal with either wine hurtling with alarming speed over the rim, looking clumsy or both...

We idolize actors and or rather the roles they play. How do we even know that Daniel Craig ( the current 007 ) isn't afraid of mice, storms and fast moving vehicles? Granted he looks like 007, but looks aren't everything.

Taking the actors side, I have to say that all the money they get paid surely doesn't compensate for being hounded by paparazzi, fans and single women. Just imagine, taking a step out your front door to fetch the post, and snap crackle pop, someone has taken your photo of you sporting Pyjamas & bed hair. Not nice indeed.

Being on constant alert and constantly in mint looking condition must be dreadfully difficult to maintain. Even now, when most newspapers have a two page spread on a Daniel Craig sighting or where he could be, I can't help but feel sorry for him.

Fame, as illusive as it can be, has a price attached to it. Privacy might as well be an oxymoron to the famous lot, because, gosh darn it, they don't have any. At least most have enough dosh to feather a comfortable hidey-hole, away from the maddening crowds.

Having said all that, should Mr. Craig do a sojourn in our vineyards, there might well be that a married lady taking a photo of him...

Biggi

A Last Minute Gift For Those Hard To Buy For Teenagers.

A gift that is perfect and long lasting...

You might not even have to go to an old age home to find lonely people that you know. Everyone has someone in their peripheral that is alone during the holidays.

Your teenage kids more than likely have everything they could want or need. Aren't their cupboards and rooms getting to small for all the stuff they have? What to buy them? Why not give them the gift of uplifting another person?

Take them to a bakery or shop and let them buy several trays of packaged holiday cookies. Let them choose them and if they want to, also gift wrap them. Let them know, that the cookies they choose are bought with money that would have been meant for their gift. Let them own it, so to say!

The next step is easy. Drive to the local old age home ( or a lonely person you know ) and ask at reception, who is alone during the Festive season. Such as not having any family coming to visit.

Your kids don't need to stay long with each person. Just long enough to give a gift to someone who will appreciate it beyond measure. You'll probably notice that once they get to see the joy and sheer pleasure they have given, that they might want to stay a few minutes for a chat.

Look, a lot of you might say:

• That your teenagers couldn't be bothered.
• That they won't want to give up their own gifts.
• That they just don't care.

But here's the thing; How do you know if you don't give them a chance?

Maybe a lot of today's youngsters have never been given a chance, or shown how easy it is to do something nice and altruistic for others...

Biggi

The Coupledom Of Driving Together.

Are we imprinted on the village?

As a newly minted ( well more like three years ) one car family, being seen together while driving the car is bound to happen. At least we are part of the in-crowd, the ahead of the pack crowd or as I like to think of us as...a little bit more environment friendly.

It's funny how we tend to remember certain childhood events. For me it was driving to a holiday cottage with my Grandparents. Sitting in the backseat gave me ample opportunity to learn certain behaviour..

" August, be careful! The traffic lights are about to change to red. "
" Frieda, I can see. Stop telling me how to drive. "

and of course my Grandmother added insult to injury and either air-braked or put out her hands for an imaginary emergency braking. My Grandfather drove so slowly in any case that bicycles could have easily passed us!

Well, fast forward to now, and every time Bob and I are enclosed in our chariot receiving a friendly nod, wave or flash, I can't help wondering whether they think:

" Oh look at them. Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dee!

That's when I nonchalantly try to look more ' happening, cool or with it ' because if I didn't, Bob and I would be seen, eh, as that middle age couple driving in their car.

Bob I think has similar issues. In summer, he drives with the window open and the appropriate arm dangling out of it. Now that it is freezing outside, he restricts his coolness to bobbing his head along to his tunes...

At times I catch myself imitating my Grandmother. Just yesterday, I couldn't help myself and pointed out to my chauffeur the fact that the roads might be icy and that he should drive slower...

After three years driving in the car together, Bob has learned to not react apart from raising an eyebrow and giving of an annoyed sigh.

Sharing a car can cement a marriage in various ways....cement boots not excluded!

Biggi

Just One Of The Reasons I Am A Georgette Heyer Fan!

A quaint form of English.

Oh, I am well aware that Bob is cringing with embarrassment, but why shouldn't I admit that I love Georgette Heyer's books. They are a breath of fresh air, have romance and a kind of romance that makes you think about the depicted couple even after you've finished the book. Yes, the books are chaste and often a kiss is the most graphic display of romance you'll see written.

But, it is those little nuances of a romance building that most of us crave. The stolen glances, a hand being held longer, a man protecting you and a romantic foundation being built on deeds rather than empty words.

Here are a few of my favourite exchanges ( these are from False Colours ) :

• ...audible slumber...( snoring )
• " When you get to my age, you won't care a rush for it. "
• " Reading poetry to her? What a booberkin! I can tell you this, my boy: in my day we'd more rumgumption than to bore a pretty woman into a lethargy!"
• " Stop! " he interrupted. " My poor girl, how could you allow yourself to be so taken-in? If you mean to accept me at my mother's valuation a shocking disappointment awaits you! She is the most dotingly fond parent imaginable, and can detect no fault in either of her sons."
• ...a proper jaw-me-dead he is!...( talks a lot )
• " I consider she has been much maligned. I will allow her to be disconcerting, but by no means the petrifying Gorgon I was led to expect. "
• " The truth, Miss Staverly, without any flummery, is that the more I see of you the greater becomes my conviction that you are worthy of a better man than I am. "
  She wrinkled her brow.
  " Is that a civil way of telling me that you would like to cry off? "
  "No. It is a way of telling you that you are a darling, " he said, lifting her hand, and lightly kissing it....(swoon)

Reading Georgette Heyer all the time is not the thing either, but to dip into her novels now and again is akin to being wrapped up in cotton wool and having all your cares disappear.

When you do, start with this one. It is too precious and very readable. Adventure & Romance in one.

Biggi

How Many Culinary It-Gadgets Have You Got?

You know, those - I can't do without them - kitchen gadgets!

Bob was just making a batch of cookies by hand. No scales, no special spoons and no timers. He just made them a la " a pinch here & a pinch there " and they taste great.

The kitchens from here to the other end of the world are covered in gadgets. The mixer, the fancy espresso machine, the computerized scale, the oven door that slides with precision, the electric knife, the stove that kids can put their hands on top and not get burned...goodness, how did we grow up around our neanderthal stoves?

How many of these treats do we actually use? Often they are too much of a bother. Unearthing them from their place of residence, usually a place in the back of a cupboard means we have to dust them off before using them and laboriously clean them after. Not everyone has help in the washing up department...even though, with parents having such prolific offspring, you'd think more teenagers would be active in the washing up department!

When your kitchen is small, having any surface covered by an unnecessary gadget is stupid. Small kitchen's usually equate to even less cupboard space and suddenly these gadgets are part of the landscape. You dust around them ( move any of them an inch to see a dusty outline ) because you dare not throw them out. Either you paid a fortune or they were some well meaning gift of a favourite relative, and they could drop in at any moment!

Dating gadgets becomes rather fun and easy. Even here in our little village, the kitchens are littered with those George Clooney Coffee Machines, or imitations of them. The capsule ones. They spread like wildfire back in the day ( 2007 or so...) and everyone wanted them.

No one gave a thought to how expensive the capsules were or how making coffee for a group of friends at the same time proved to be almost impossible. Either they drank the cups as you made them, or the cups were a lucky dip regarding temperature.

When I visit anyone who is on the shady side of 50, they will have two types of coffee machines. The old-fashioned Filter one and the George Clooney edition next to it. Three guesses why they have two... Oh yes, it was a perfect Christmas gift from their children. A gift, that like so many gifts was more about the joy of the giver than the receiver.

Those on the shady side of 50, almost have heart failure when they see the price of a coffee capsule and rather stick to their filter way of making coffee. The fancy machine gets used when the children come around...

Do you also have these fancy and often unused kitchen gadgets?

Biggi

My Precious....Mein Schatz!

Lord of the Rings and the art of conversation.

Thank Goodness I had a hint from Bob earlier because for some reason, the Lord of the Rings epic has never grabbed me. At the moment there is a trilogy rerun of it on TV and Bob has been calling me precious ( in a strange voice ) more than usual...

We were sitting with my parents and friends of theirs ( and ours ) waiting for the choir to sing. The hall was packed with what seemed like the whole village and one could call yesterday's Deutsch Schützen Advent's Bazaar a successful Squeeze!

As small as our community is, it can show the rest of the world a thing or two...most of the money raised gets put back into the village school. More books, more computers and so forth. Fabulous.

Bob was quietly sitting and perusing the hall and people. Being more of an introvert he naturally is not the initiator of any conversation....German or English for that matter. Often people forget that and naturally assume that Bob doesn't understand or maybe just can't speak German. No, he just isn't a talker.

Well, do I have news for you! Johanna, our parent's friend was sitting next to Bob ( across the table from me ) and somehow they started to talk about The Lord of the Rings. She ( 60 + ) is as huge a fan as Bob is. In almost fluent German, they were lobbing movie and book story lines back and forth.

" Mein Schatz..."
"" My precious..."

were among them. It was tres amusing to see both of their expressions while discussing and re-enacting the movie.

For a whole 10 minutes they were totally absorbed in Tolkien and need I say, all in German. I was so proud of Bob. Of course his German still has rough edges but he held a conversation from start to finish.

It just goes to show, that one of the main ingredients of any conversation is a topic that interests both parties. Whatever the language.

Amazon.de:The Lord of the Rings (3 Book Box set)

Biggi

Chocolate, Do You Have A Secret Stash Too?

The habits of many...

Goodness, a mere hours after writing my blog piece about the gathering of women, there I was a part of one. This whole week our community ( well not everyone, as it is voluntary ) is busy making Christmas wreaths and decorations to sell on Saturday. It is a lot of work and I popped in for a few hours yesterday to see if I could help.

Where did I end up helping? In the back room with two other ladies and it took maybe 10 minutes before the subject of weight entered into our conversation. Granted, I was the culprit because I refused a biscuit.

It doesn't take us women long to scuttle along and cover the various thought avenues. Jumping from one subject to another is a piece of cake for us. Connecting the dots is like slipping into an old pair of comfortable slippers. Could it be due to our impressive skill of multi - tasking? I think so.

Anyway, back to the chocolate. It turns out that the love of it doesn't help with having it around. Loving chocolate equates to a case of

Once you see it, it might as well have not been there in the first place.

and often there is not much difference between us and a hoover to be honest!

You cannot say that we women aren't clever. Who is it that hides the chocolate as soon as we buy it? Oh yes, there's a conundrum. Now and again we even manage to hide it so well that we forget it's there. Who hasn't stumbled across an old slab of chocolate gathering dust somewhere?

Growing up, I vividly remember that on the occasions where my mum was out for the evening
( or even if she fell asleep in front of the TV ), a hunt for treats went on in our kitchen. Often it was successful but took a lot of determination. Crawling almost into the kitchen cabinet where the pots resided. Usually the big one in the back held the treats...

One of the ladies yesterday told us that she puts the chocolate on top of a cupboard so that it takes energy and determination to get each yummy piece. Oh, we all have our strategies it seems, what is yours?

Biggi

Dignity: Stop & Think Before You Take It From The Elderly.

Or from anyone else...

Who taught us the fallacy that just because someone walks slowly, with a stoop, with a shuffle or not at all we have to talk as if they are mentally slow too? How dare we?

The exception doesn't allow us to tar all with the same brush. Far from it. Yesterday I had occasion to be inside an old age home. A very nice one to be honest. All the staff were cheerful and very friendly.

The home is light, airy with all the mod-cons needed. Satellite TV, Radio, smoker's room, card player's den of inequity and of course a couple of coffee drinking places. Not quite a Starbucks but then again, at that age the thought of paying a few Euros for a cup of coffee would be met with derision. So the comfortable coffee nooks are just the thing.

But what had me aghast, was that once an elderly person is checked in they are almost forgotten in the questioning. Relatives get asked about what they eat for breakfast, bathing habits, financial affairs etc...while the person concerned is right there. Please, award them the dignity of sharing their likes, dislikes and abilities themselves!

Imagine how you would feel, if you had to pack up your house into a few boxes and be moved into an old age home. Even a great and luxurious one takes a lot of adjusting.

At home you could just slip into your kitchen and make a snack or a meal. No more of that. Now there are strict meal schedules. Fair enough, someone else makes it for you but what is left for you to do? Sit and wait?

Most of us look forward to being retired and doing sweet all. Some cross off each day towards it, year after year. Others save like mad, to then be able to live it up during retirement. Yet, the reality of it is that after a while you get tired of doing nothing.

Most of the retired folks in our village are doing more chores than the non retired. Chopping wood, clearing trees, planting gardens, maintaining the house and constantly being exhaustively ( for us watching ) busy.

Being younger, we often want to help do all these things to save them the hard work. But, if we do that we merely are taking away a reason to get up each day. Their purpose.

Dignity comes in many shapes and forms. Someone who has lived so much longer than us, has to be revered, honored & respected. Give an elderly person the respect they deserve and see the light shine out of their eyes again...

Biggi

Did My Husband Discover My Stash Of Self-Help Books?

Joel Osteen, Louise Hay or Wayne Dyer perhaps?

Those of you, who are married or in a long term relationship will know what I mean. It is not a case of married snobbery but if you are just stepping out together, the gloves aren't off yet or rather each has their best foot forward.

Gosh, it makes marriage sound a trifle real ( or surreal? ) but that is what makes it fun. Being able to be yourself without having to put your public veneer on at all times.

We were driving in town yesterday and I was almost ( not quite ) speechless when I heard Bob's reply after I had dropped one of those wifely helpful hints about his driving. Normally, oh okay sometimes I prudently hold my tongue and just grip the door handle, as no one likes a helpful passenger!

Oh I know, that could be the intro for a comic routine and at times the inside of our car could be an Improv Comedy stage! Anyway, first I mentioned that he was going too fast in the car park at Obi. Normally a sarcastic / miffed / cross reply would be instantaneous but yesterday I got a

" Oh, thank you. I hadn't noticed. "

fair enough, maybe he was daydreaming about lunch and hadn't heard my wifely helpful hint....

A little while later, while driving through a village he was a tad bit over the 50 kmh limit and I prudently pointed it out to him.

" Bob, slow down. You are driving too fast. "
" Oh thank you Biggi. I hadn't notice so let me slow down a bit. "

Oh, what has happened to Bob?

The final clue was when someone cut in front of him. Whereas normally there would be a string of expletives rolling off his tongue, all he said was:

" Oh never mind, I am sure he had to be somewhere sooner..."

Pleasantly surprised and intrigued, I demanded to know whether he had been sneaking Joel Osteen into the loo ( his best reading spot ) and he adroitly lobbed back his answer...

" Oh no, I haven't been reading anything like that. After all the years of being with you, it has finally sunk in."

Ouch, that could be taken two ways...

Biggi

Warmth In Winter Is Not Always A Given.

The first cold front before Winter is giving us a hint of what might come...

Bob and I usually wait until icicles form on our noses before we put our oven to use. No, not quite as bad as that, but also not like a lot of our friends here. Gosh, anything below 15 degrees will have them rush to start their heaters.

As you know, we came from South Africa, a place where it does get freezing in Winter but for only a few times during a 3 month segment, so hardly anyone has an oven. Getting an oven for a few occasions per year was silly. We improvised with loads of blankets, socks, jerseys and what one would call Passion Killers but these did the trick. In fact, it was rather romantic and dare I say cozy.

Well, fast forward to Burgenland, and there are a few things I have noticed:

1. The ovens get fired up long before it hits freezing.
2. People run around in t-shirts and shorts in their homes which they heat constantly...
3. In fact during Winter I put on a lot of layers, because I know when I visit somewhere it will be hot as blazes and it is necessary to de-robe. In fact, sometimes I sweat because it is so hot. ( Stuffy too as nobody wants to let the heat out.. )

Here is a thought...put on socks and a jersey inside your home and you will cut your heating costs a bit. Anyway, each to his own. Yesterday it was bitterly cold and the wind was howling non stop. Yuckie indeed but again rather romantic. Tim Burton could have used our area as a perfect setting for one of his interesting stories.

As we have had a leak in the roof, we both decided to put on the oven to help dry out that spot a bit. Gosh, I must say that it felt rather nice to be warm and cozy. Don't worry, we do heat throughout the cold season but we do it more carefully to save a buck and help the environment.

Driving home yesterday afternoon, they mentioned on the news that the conflict in Syria was entering its 4th year and that a huge amount of people are basically homeless. Imagine, not having a home and only if you are lucky, sleeping in a tent. Being out in the cold without extra layers of clothing or bedding is just plain awful. This shouldn't be happening in our times.

Our village and so far most other villages that I have seen in Burgenland as well, have a big container where we can donate our old clothing or blankets. What is collected gets put to good use and might help keep a few more people warm in winter.

Just about everyone of us has stuff in our cupboards that we never wear, use or look at. Let's take that and donate it to someone. They will be ever so grateful and warm.

Biggi

Those Fabulous Autumn Mornings Are Here Again.

Who would have thought that they would come around so quickly...

As nice as Summer mornings are, an Autumn morning does have that special extra to it. What, you might wonder? Well, for one thing it is darker for longer as the sun is busy elsewhere around the globe.

It gets light at about seven a.m. If, like me you wake up early ( such as five a.m ) that gives you an extra two hours to languish away at a leisurely pace. There is no need to put on your wellingtons to do a spot of weeding / watering / perambulating about / or hang up the laundry. No, not at all. Under the guise of darkness, you can do a spot of reading / knitting or meditating without a twinge of guilt.

For an avid reader like me, it is pure heaven to get up early, put on a pot of coffee and cuddle up on the couch with a blanket and a good book. In fact, knowing that there is a two hour opportunity of undivided time for immersing myself into a particular story ( romance, murder or mere thriller ) is precious and priceless.

As I am still old school enough to so far have read only books with pages, I am not so sure how I would cope with a Kindle? But there are two pluses for eventually getting a Kindle...it would be much easier to get our hands on English language books, and I could read in bed without the need for a lamp.

As kind as Bob is, he draws the line when even a sliver of a ray of light is at the edge of his vision. Pointed comments such as

" Are you going to read much longer? "

do make a case for eventually trying out a Kindle...

As we only have a finite number of books in English ( which both Bob and I have re-read numerous times ), we love it when our family brings us a new supply. We regard them as treasures ( yes, our family too ) that we have up our sleeves for the colder season.

These coming months and especially the snowed in and cold Winter ones, are what you could call the reader's season in the same way that every other hobby has a season. Gosh, Winter is the season of two competing hobbies....reading and knitting. Unfortunately you can't combine them.

Biggi

Have You Noticed How Seat Belts Have Become Our Second Skin?

My 100 meter drive without...

Quite a few times a month I am seen hanging about outside the local doctor's rooms. Nothing nefarious. No, I chauffeur those who aren't able to go by themselves to the doctor. It's rather nice, because often when I take them back we sit and have a cup of coffee accompanied by a slice of cake.

As a lot of the ladies who drive with me are a bit on the frail side, I usually double park my car, hop out and run to their side to open the car door and so forth. When I know they are safely on their way in, I hop back into my car and drive about 100 meters before doing a u-turn to my perch. A parking spot, I suppose, but one where I can see the front door of our doctor's rooms.

Just the other morning, I did this without putting on the seat belt. Country lane, not much traffic and so forth. Well, let me tell you, that it felt very strange indeed. Not having the seat belt keeping me in place made me feel as if I was starting a roller coaster ride ( no, I don't drive badly )! Even turning to look over my shoulder for traffic was an experience in weightlessness.

How on earth did we all grow up so well without a seat belt? Not that I am ancient, but I seem to remember that the cars we had as kids were sans seat belt. And head rest, come to think of it. Oh yes, really.

A lot of us ( eh, adults of a certain age ) when we were young, were bopping merrily around on the back seat either shifting from one window to the other or doing the required sibling punch up. Not a seat belt in sight. Come to think of it, our parents up front had ample room to lean back and sort us out. No seat belt to restrain them!

Oh, and can you believe it, we sometimes used to ride in the front seat, unrestrained and hardly able to see over the dashboard. It wasn't that our parents were neglectful or doing anything wrong. A seat belt was more of a luxury on most cars, than a standard. Gosh, there were no laws about driving only fastened with a seat belt either. No, that came later.

By the way, can you remember what the first seat belts were like? Kind of like a big belt attached to the door frame. Never a proper fit. Either they were too loose or too tight.

Apart from the other day, I am religious about putting on my seat belt before driving even an inch. It is that automatic reach over our shoulder to pull the belt into place. Years ago, I was driving around in America and I have to say that they were one up on the rest of us. The minute you put the key into the ignition, the seat belt came over automatically. It had a touch of Star Trek to it....

....Wow, if that was back in the 90's, can you imagine what it is like now! But I forget, the cars of the future will drive themselves and maybe that will free us of the need for seat belts yet again. A loop in history perhaps?

Biggi

A Nurse's Touch Makes All The Difference.

Again the simple gestures make the most difference.

Heartburn had reared its rather ugly head in me. For the first time and it was quite a shocker. How on earth do people live with heartburn on a daily or continuous basis? Not fun at all as most of the food and drinks taste horrible never mind the pain. At one stage I couldn't even finish a glass of wine!

It was a new experience for me. One that made me by-pass the panacea offered by the advertising media. Yes, I went to my doctor. The media makes it look like such a common problem and one that can be solved by popping a tablet whenever you need one. No, I am too much of a media cynic. Doctor's rooms it was.

That in itself was quite fun as I happened to choose a day when those who need to have their monthly blood tests, were having them. Everyone knew each other and even joked about who had the best numbers! Trés jollie...

Our local doctors are the bee's knees and simply fabulous and thorough. I was sent to have tests done to get to the bottom of this heartburn. Sometimes heartburn isn't just heartburn but something more sinister. So having it seen to makes sense on every level. Of course I had no idea of what it might entail but I found out the very next day...

Oh yes, I had a Gastroscopy or rather a thin tube housing a camera put into my mouth and down my throat ( as Google defines, an examination of the gullet and stomach - charming indeed). To be honest, it was not the nicest procedure to have but there are worse things in life, aren't there? When I felt close to tears, the nurse standing by my side kept on stroking my face and said.

" There there, it is almost done. "

that gentle touch made a huge difference to me and I couldn't thank her enough afterwards. As a society, we tend to forget how important a nurse is to us. They take care of us and force us out of our patient's doldrums. Thank goodness for them.

As for my heartburn, it was good that I had this procedure done because it showed what was happening and how to treat it. When not treated, it can lead to serious illness later on.

We all know not to touch or God forbid, drink acid.
In a way ( or at least that is how I think of it ), heartburn is the pain felt when stomach acid flows into the Oesophagus. Yes, this acid should only be in our stomach where it breaks down our food. Nowhere near the oesophugus.

If you do suffer from heartburn, why not go and have it checked out with your doctor. Better safe than sorry...

Biggi

Aren't Memories Interesting?

How do you recall your memories?

Isn't it amazing how the pearls of wisdom and good sense get dropped into a conversation rather casually. Should you be busy getting a glass of wine or visiting the lav, you might miss them. They seem gentle enough, but once you ponder on them they take on a life of their own and you wonder why you have never thought about them before.

Memories....how do you remember them and more importantly in what sequence.

Are your memories in order of time or in order of importance to you? Yes, isn't it amazing and now that you think of it, the things at the top of your memory list aren't necessarily in chronological order.

One would imagine that our memories would go from year dot to now. Well, year dot is a bit overdone but I can remember being bathed in the sink. Obviously as a baby but that is all I remember of that time.

Life seems full of little pit stops that stick in our minds. A road map of the good and I suppose of the bad times as well. Sometimes our memories are linked to certain events.

• The Charles & Diana Wedding.
• When Princess Diana died.
• Our own wedding / first date / divorce.
• The wedding of William & Kate.

Most of us can picture what we did on those dates. We can recall who we were with on that day and where we were. Yet, how often do we forget where our keys are? In our house the search for keys,caps and wallets happens so often that we joke about it but with a hint of fear mixed into it. What or rather who will we forget next?

Talking about a memory, even if it is decades old, is as if it happened yesterday. Isn't it amazing how we can recall every little detail? Yet some decades don't register at all in our memory. School for me was rather a blur and yet others still relive those glory days.

Then you get the memory that keeps on growing 'unnaturally ' in your mind. Who hasn't embellished an argument or slight a hundred fold in your mind? Those memories should be put into the delete folder!

Well, hopefully we will all get the chance to make many more memories because they are proof that we have lived life. Even if it is in our own way, style and form...

Biggi

The Church & Eating Well Go Hand In Hand.

A Restaurant guide with a difference.

As per usual, we were gallivanting around the pretty countryside of Burgenland in our chariot laden down with the four of us. And that was before the meal! When in Rome do like the Romans, and when in Burgenland, do like us and go for a picturesque drive.

The one thing about being driven about, is that one tends to get hungry. Yes, it is hard work to take it all in and there comes a point where everyone wants to have a bite to eat. But where to go and what to do?

Well, luckily in most of Europe, Sunday lunch time means a big meal with most places open. We wanted a normal & traditional Gasthof. A place where you get warm food with an Austrian slant.

• Schweinsbraten & Knödel
• Wiener Schnitzel made in a pan
• Kaiserschmarn
• Leber Knödel Suppe etc

Our chariot might be anno last decade and narrowly missing last century, but we had all the mod cons on board. We had Apples galore...iPad & iPhone which could have shown us places where other foodies had gone before. We don't often agree with someone else's opinion about things, so why should we agree about food?

The most exciting part is driving around and suddenly stumbling upon a great find. A treasure hunt for the gastronomic enthusiast. Granted, you could be had and find a dud, but how else can we appreciate a good Gasthof if we don't now and again eat at a bad one?

On Sunday we applied my Dad's principal yet again:

Most good Restaurants are near the local church.

and you know, he was right. We were all amazed ( well, not my Dad ) at how often a Restaurant is within spitting distance of a steeple. In fact we made it a game of spot the church and then the restaurant. Really amazing how that holds true most of the time.

As we have done this before, we didn't stop at the first place but we refined our search by also looking at the scenery. We found a great Restaurant where the food & ambiance were perfect. It isn't a place to eat at daily but one for the odd Sunday lunch or special occasion.

Maybe it is time to throw away the guide books and just follow your nose, instinct and if all else fails, go look for the church. Let me know what great gastronomic treasures you unearth...

Biggi

To get the church and restaurant into the frame, unfortunately you don't get to see the beautiful Burgenland meadows forming a frame for the azure blue skies. As you can see, our troupe was tres hungry...

It's not so easy or polite to take pictures of people eating and thus I took it when we left. But isn't the wood lovely?

A clever picture & frame!

The outside flower boxes on the Gasthof.