A Whole New Wardrobe!

 The hidden gems of our barn.

We do it every year, actually twice a year. First from winter to summer and then reverse. Yes, we un-clog our wardrobe and basically swap warm for cool and vica verca.

It is amazing how much stuff we accumulate. Even though we don't buy a lot of new stuff, we do like to go to the charity shops and when we do and find something fun, we buy. So, despite not wanting to get bogged down by too much stuff, we are. Especially the winter wardrobe. What with jerseys, jackets and woolen extras, the shelves fill to capacity.

Yesterday we ( actually Bob! ) went to get our summer box from the barn. A big container where our summer clothes whiled away the winter months. Luckily, not any worse for wear apart from a need to be put into the washing machine. Done, and done.

It is amazing what little treasures we unearth once we swap our seasonal clothes. It feels as though we had bought new clothes, only clothes that fit nicely and that we like. I do make a point of throwing worn-out anythings out. We all have them and often we find it difficult to let go. Better if the spouse does the sorting, and even better if done while Bob's at work....what he doesn't see, he doesn't miss, he doesn't know.

Now and again he will look for something and get a bee in his bonnet that I have tossed it out and will go through every nook and cranny in our house...only to find it at the bottom of his side of the wardrobe or in the seasonal container. Okay, there might have been times where I did throw an item of his away, but you know, men do get so overly attached to t-shirts that tend to have been chewed by moths and the like. 

Well, the old adage of  ' out of sight, out of mind '  is so true. Both of us had forgotten a lot of the clothes that we had stored in the barn and are over the moon to have a lot of ' new ' pieces to wear...

Biggi

A New Era Of Doggy-Do Disposal Dawns.

 All it takes is a little black plastic bag...

I have noticed this last year that I seem to be the only one in our area who uses these little black bags. It is not that difficult to use them. Often it is more difficult to get a dog to do its business! Picking up these little heaps of surprise shouldn't stand in question of whether one has to do it or not. Yet, here it is assumed that just because a forest is close by the need to pick up doggy poop is not necessary.

From personal experience I know that when one walks the same route twice a day, all year round, that constitutes a huge lot of poos and who wants to constantly have to walk past it, make sure to not step in it and most importantly, keep the dog away from it. Using a little black bag to pick it up is a no brainer and even if it wasn't law, I would do it.

Well, in today's Sunday paper there is a big two page spread on the sins committed by dog owners. The sins of omission, the sins of not picking up! Well, in a province of Italy they have taken on this problem and are fighting with high tech weapons.

DNA testing. Yes, I thought I read wrong but no, it really is so. If an offending parcel of dog poo is found, a sample is taken to be analysed for DNA. This then is compared to the data base and one that any dog that is micro chipped is on. Yes, they can now find out who the offensive ' not-picker-upper ' was and fine them. Isn't that brilliant?

One or two counties in Austria are very keen to copy this system. Imagine how much money would come into the communal coffers? Even here in our little village it would be profitable, but only for a month or so, or rather until the bush telegraph has done the rounds and the first fines issued.

Biggi

Another Weekend Already.

 Gosh, this Friday got here rather quickly!

Just the other day it was Monday. In fact it felt like yesterday to be honest. Bob reminded me this morning that it has been two weeks since our friends had arrived for the wine festival. Isn't it funny how we look forward to an event for months and months only for it to be over in a twinkling? 

Walking my daily rounds with Maxi lets me ruminate on the neighbourhood and its people. It has almost been a year since he moved in with us and in that time I have noticed many a changes and many a personality whilst walking past. Very interesting and keeps my mind occupied while Maxi deigns to dawdle along. At times he can try the patience of a saint!

The last few days it has been extraordinarily hot. Hot like it usually is during August. Cloyingly hot, annoyingly hot and certainly not wished for hot. There is no chalking this one up to ' it's normal, we've had it this hot in past as well. " No, even hardcore denialists will have to change their mind and tune.

Time to get stuck in. Travel less, mow less, consume less and think more about doing the right thing. Often I see the younger generation down the road drive literally fifty meters in order to visit their parents. Goodness me, don't they realize that they will be the ones bearing the brunt of the climate change? Honestly, I have to make a concerted effort not to say something to them!

So, it is Friday and the start of our weekend. Long my it feel, and blissfully uneventful may it be. A whole two days of sleeping in late ( until five at least ), eating pizza and generally enjoying being at home.

Biggi 

Mash And More...

 Rediscovering old favourites and faithfuls.

There are days when it takes a while for the menu plan to drop down the old brain and there are days when it positively jumps to the forefront even before breakfast. Cooking every night is fun but finding tempting combinations isn't a given.

I like to surprise Bob with new and tasty morsels but also make sure to cook is favourites. Luckily for me these are almost fast food. Pasta and pesto, can't get any easier! Tonight though, I want to try a new version of burgers. 

Bob loves his burgers in a roll, but I needed to use up some old rolls and decided to make bread crumbs from them ( rather than to throw them away ) and combine them with chickpeas to make burger patties. Recipes are a waste of time for me as it always depends on what is in the fridge because burger patties for me are a nice way to use up leftovers, and of course to smuggle in an extra vegetable or three!

The other day I got a 5 kg bag of organic potatoes for 3,95 euros and boiled a whole lot of them at lunch time. Some for me, with butter and salt for lunch and the rest is awaiting being squashed for a big pot of mashed potatoes. Yes, I forgot about mashed potatoes until I contemplated how I could prepare these cooked potatoes alongside my burger patties.

Even now I can't wait to taste it. Hopefully I can get it creamy, fluffy and plain yummy. Again I am amazed at what one can do with little. Potatoes are very cheap, the chickpeas even more so and together they provide a good and healthy meal. Enough protein, possibly more than if we had real meat, and the comforting knowledge that chickpeas at the cutting edge of health and more than able to kick any cholesterol, sugar or baddies out of our system.

As for the chickpeas; we shopped at Tesco's in Hungary last Saturday and managed to get 500 g of dried chickpeas for under a euro. This packet, once cooked, has so far provided us with four lunches and now tonight's dinner....

Biggi

An Early Start To The Season.

 Working with the daylight.

It is that time of the year again. The sun's up nice and early and with it our time tables have changed. Bob works outside and it is much better to start early and to finish before the sun can cause too much fatigue and damage.

Now in May the first hour has been put back. More time shifts from June, but at the moment one hour suffices. So this morning Bob left for work at a quarter past six. Nice and early. Of course we got up much earlier, in fact at four leaving us enough time to shake out the cobwebs with a few cups of coffee and a sedate start to the day.

Last night Bob was very good and went to bed an hour earlier. He is getting more disciplined the older he gets! I, on the other hand had a yearning to watch the Miami Grand Prix and thus had to stay up later. Goodness but I don't like these late starting times. Half past nine in the evening our time meant that I had to valiantly fight sleep for two hours in order to see the race.

Somehow I made it to the start of the race but promptly fell asleep in lap 10 only to awaken again at the end of the race. What a silly thing of me to do. Clearly I should have known better and realized that there is hardly a night where I see anything on the telly past eight o'clock. Fancy me wanting to watch this Grand Prix!!!

Oh yes, this morning wasn't easy for me but after a nice cup of coffee the day got off to a great start and the early season too. I had forgotten how nice it is to do everything an hour or two earlier. It will take me a few days to get used to an earlier supper routine, but what can one do but join the ' early bird specialists'  and have supper long before the sun sets...

\

Biggi

Biggi 

The Wonderful Smell Of Rain.

 Maxi and I got caught in a bout of rain.

As you know he does not like rain. At the first sniff of rain he changes gear. Into reverse and just for good measure he stops drinking water and lays with his legs crossed until he can't hold it in anymore. Eventually he deigns to be taken outside and even there he suddenly finds the wherewithal to do all his business within meters of our front door step. A clever chap indeed!

This afternoon we headed out with cheerful barks in lovely sunshine albeit a few clouds had gathered. These clouds decided to dissipate into raindrops when we were just getting into our stride. Almost halfway into the walk and as the rain only came from one cloud, I could fool Maxi into carrying on. 

Once or twice he felt a drop but by then we were more than halfway and clever as he is, he realized that going forward was his best option. Gosh, the rain on a warm summer's day was brilliant. Alone the smell of raindrops hitting warm stones is priceless and can instantly transport us to those times where we lived for jumping into puddles and didn't give a thought to having muddy wet clothes or washing them!

Maxi too had a strange look of remembrance on his little face and didn't once balk at carrying on. Both of us eventually got drenched by another cloud, one big enough to cover half the neighbourhood, but somehow we didn't mind. Maxi even took the time to sniff at a dwindling smell. Rain makes a clean slate of any territorial canine markers. Goody, tomorrow he can be the first to mark his turf.

As I am sitting at the kitchen table I can see more clouds gathering outside. We so need the rain that I think nobody will mind it. A few muddy foot prints in the entrance or an extra day to dry the washing is all worth it...

Biggi

Burgenland, Miles Ahead Of The Rest.

 The repair bonus.

Only this afternoon I read about this ingenious way. The repair bonus. Such a simple concept, such a huge impact on wallets and the planet.

If you repair your defect, non-working or dare I say out of fashion electrical gadget the county of Burgenland will reimburse your bill to the tune of up to 200 euros. Isn't that brilliant? Seemingly old hoovers, cranky televisions, radios or fridges can now be re-introduced into the family. No scrap yard for them. Love it.

Burgenland, or rather its premier, has hit the nail on the head. Everything is getting more expensive due to the horrid conflict next door to us which translates to many folks not having enough money to buy new stuff. Especially a generation who isn't used to repairing things. A hole in your jeans-buy a new pair. A broken cord of any appliance-again, replace it.

Not anymore I hope. Of course the problem will be of where to get things repaired as the various tradesmen are disappearing fast. Although, maybe the new lot of school levers will start to eschew university for a trade. Tradesmen are extremely secure in their job and earn a lot of money with it. Not so sure about the oodles of accountants, lawyers, economists and Philosophers. True wealth is being able to tell people you are a mechanic, plumber, electrician or builder. 

As for Burgenland, it is tops when the going gets tough. Two years ago at the start of corona and its impact, it introduced a 75 euro holiday bonus. When one stayed at any holiday establishment in Burgenland for more than three nights, Burgenland reimbursed you 75 euros. Oh yes, Burgenland had a smashing year in regards to tourism and last year this bonus was repeated. 

This thinking outside the box is brilliant and makes me proud to live in Burgenland....

Biggi 

A Lazy And Rainy Friday.

 The plants are rejoicing.

In fact so was Bob. The forecast had predicted a day of rain which equated to his having a rainy day off. Provided it would rain before he normally set off for work and by pure chance or perhaps by his performing a rain dance, the heavens obliged and heaved a fair amount upon us. Enough to stay home.

Naturally a rainy day didn't portend well for the daily walks. Yikes, despite me covering his every step with a huge umbrella, he smelt the rat or rather felt the rain and turned tail after his most pressing needs were seen to. The rascal, but what can one do? Be sure to know that the rest of the day he stayed nice and quiet in his basket, avoiding all eye contact which might lead him to be taken for a walk....

The rain is doing wonders for all our gardens and yesterday a lot of us were seen and heard pushing the old lawn mower up and down lawns. Yesterday it was a hot and sunny 22 degrees and today a nice and chilly 8. April weather is all I can say.

Just now our little Mausi had one of her mutinous streaks despite having been nice and cuddly all day with either of us. Bob was sitting on the couch playing a game on his phone and she was strutting up and down the window sill, keeping an avid eye on the bird-house. They must have been guzzling up the sunflower seeds I had put there earlier because nothing else sets her off than to see them fly in and out of their feeding station.

A cat can whine like a teenager. Non-stop and with an annoying pitch of voice. She wanted Bob to open the window so that she could hear the twitter better but he was lost to his game, only occasionally shushing her to keep quiet.

Not satisfied with this, she hot footed it over to me, sitting at the kitchen table. Gosh, you should have heard her moan and complain. I could almost translate it;

     " Nobody ever listens to me! Why can't I get my way? The boy always gets his but I don't. Life is so unfair!!!! "

Whoever said that animals are just that, clearly hasn't spent time with a beloved pet. Each has their own character, each has their own foibles and each has captured our love...

Biggi

The Art Of Gauging The Medical Helicopter's Approach.

St. Christopher on the fly.

It is yellow, it is loud, it is called St. Christopher and it saves lives. The medical rescue helicopter which sadly is called out all too often in our part of the world. Coming from South Africa, the thought of being transported by one of those is akin to having one foot in the grave. One only does it when no other choice is had because let's face it, that little journey isn't cheap and not all medical aids used to pay for it and that thought alone could worsen any condition whilst being flown!

Well, here the medical aid does. Often this helicopter is used for such ' inane ' illnesses as broken ankles, bones or unexplained collapses. Personally I think it is often not really needed because an ambulance would do the trick as well. Unless it is vital to get the person as quick as possible to a hospital of course.

So, I was standing talking to my neighbour after our walk, with Maxi impatiently romping at the bit ( the lure of his daily treats after his walk! ), when we heard the unmistakable sound of the medical helicopter. It has an unique sound, and the rotation of the blades almost give credence to the name ' chopper '.

The helicopter turned and came back once more indicating that Eisenberg was its destination. Yikes, a horrible thought. We carried on chatting until a few minutes later one of the young mothers came pushing her tired darling up the road. Another neighbour;

            " Birgit, do you know where the helicopter landed? "

Ah, it seems I am not the only one to let my imagination run wild. The sound of an approaching helicopter can often mean that someone's time is starting to run out. A terrible thought, but in a small village where everyone knows everyone, it is only natural that the bush telephone is being used to find out who the unlucky passenger was.

I hope that today's landing was due to a broken bone of sorts and that very soon that person will be back home and enjoying the many wonderful aspects of village life.

Biggi

A Stormy Day.

Preceded by a stormy night.

And so it begins. The summer phase complete with storms, rain and sunshine. Yesterday morning started off with brilliant sunshine which boded anything but the stormy climes to come. Before lunchtime the first drops had descended and with it banishing the lovely sunny summer morning.

We need rain, so I don't mind. The whole day was an on/off situation...the odd blue sky wrestling with the cloudy rainy one. Earlier in the day when I still had high hopes to have our washing turbo dried, I hung a load of it on the line. Well, they are still there, a day later.

Hanging washing is fun but taking wet washing off a line far from it. I read somewhere that rain on the washing acts as a sort of softener and that is why I left the stuff on the line. Yesterday evening the weather baulked and the heavens opened even more.

We had a storm of note complete with lightening and oodles of rain. The poor animals were in a state of panic with Mausi cuddling under my blanket and Maxi seeking shelter in Bob's arms. How horrid it must feel to them.

All along I asked Bob to keep an eye out for any flying underpants cruising past the window. His underpants! Yes, the stuff was still dangling on the line defying the storm to dislodge it. Luckily for Bob, I haven't sewn a name tag into them. Like school days or army days. But quick as a flash, Bob replied that perhaps folks would think that the undies belonged to Calvin Klein!

So, let's hope that this odd weather isn't a prediction of this summer in store and that not too many places were affected by too much rain. 

Biggi

The Collective Fear Of The Hoover.

 Cat and dog unite!

It isn't often that I haul out our hoover but when I do there tends to be pandemonium in our house. Firstly, I take the two carpet runners outside in order to give them a good shake-out. This action alone, no, actually my picking up the edge of a carpet, makes Mausi bolt for dear life. She knows what action follows the lifting of carpets!

Maxi is still slow to the carpet signal mainly because he can't see too well. A bolting cat should give him a clue! Once the hoover is hovering above the floors, and often with a loud fanfare, even Maxi tries to gauge the safest way to escape the cleaning monster.

How come they are both so afraid of this hoover? Mausi has even learnt to define my actions and when they are over. She knows that I have to un-or rather re-plug between the lounge and the kitchen thus correctly interpreting the silence between the two stages as only a short break. The evil machine is still to be used in other rooms! About a minute after I have switched it off a second time she comes hither from where she was hiding, safe in the knowledge that this bit of torture is over. 

Maxi tends to wait it out a bit longer. This is one of the only times where he goes through to our bedroom and safety. As if I would ever try and hoover either of them up. Even a loud noise from the tv won't budge them from their perspective beds as much as the fetching of the hoover. Should Mausi see me looking behind the bedroom door ( a perfectly good storing space ) she bolts. Clever little Miss.

Perhaps the answer is to get a cordless hoover as they don't make such a noise and no cable is being dragged over various floors. Or, of course the ultimate comfort for the little darlings would be the return of using a broom. Before the invention of hoovers, floors have been dusted and cleaned the old fashioned way, with a dustpan & broom. Truth be told, at times I think that this method is far more successful than the old hoover and quicker too.

Biggi

The Sights & Sounds Of An Approaching Summer.

 Everyone's out enjoying the sunshine.

The tulips have blossomed and are yellow beacons of welcome. From one day to the next the buds have opened and revealed the yellow beauty within. Lovely for an April, divinely contrasted against the green grass.

The road is alive with kids calling their various minders. Mums and grannies mostly, the latter are being treated like serfs with shouts of : 

          " Pick me up! Take me over there! Let's go play on the swing! "

and you know what, the grannies love it and read each and every wish from the toddler's lips. The might of little kids is immeasurable and doubly so if they are cute as a button. Who but their mum could say no to outlandish demands?

A man down the road was watering his garden. Well, garden is a bit of an exaggeration as it is a field of brown earth. They have just moved into their new house and are now trying to grow a garden. Funny, late yesterday evening while I was taking the Mister for a walk, I saw him hopping about in his garden throwing what must have been grass seeds about. Good luck to him in this dry climate.

Another couple were taking out a tree stump in their garden and it looked like extremely hard work. The wife was picking at the stump while the husband gave her advice! 

The warm weather, today we cracked the 20 degree mark, brought forth many  visitors who made the best of the sunshine to visit friends or family. The upcoming Easter weekend has energized everything and judging by the number of cars coming from Vienna, it means that this year families will celebrate the long weekend together. About time too, after these dreadful two years of corona.

Biggi

The Eternal Quest: What To Make For Dinner?

 The ebb and flow of dinner inspirations.

Some days it literally cooks itself. Everything falls into the right place, be it pan or pot and on top of everything else, it gets the nod of approval due to it tasting divine.

But then you get days, where nothing, and I mean nothing comes to mind. If it were up to me, I would bury my head in a big bowl of rice garnished with some butter,salt and pepper but that isn't enough for a hard working man. No, I try and cook nutritious and ample food for Bob and come to think of it, myself too.

Today is one of those ebb days. The whole way of our walk my mind was going through the various items still left in our fridge and larder. Yes, tomorrow is grocery day which translates to the nice bits having been eaten and used up. Let's be honest, there are at least a weeks worth of meals hanging about, but not the ones we want. I can't cook pasta and tomato stew every night...

I should shop with a grocery list but somehow it never works out for me. Oh, don't get me wrong, I do make a list but then I forget to take it or even look at it. Surely shopping without is a nice workout for the brain?

The irony is that the ' kids' have enough food for a while. Varied yet the same. Mausi's gourmet must have its own signature scent as she eats anything from them, be it bits, mousses or stews but she won't let a morsel of any other cat food company cross her lips. Rather goes on hunger strike!

Tonight I think I will make a curry with tofu, carrots, peas, potatoes and rice. Hold thumbs that it tastes nice and that Bob likes it. He is very easy to cook for but I know by the level of his praise whether he liked it or didn't. A licked clean plate does the trick too...

Biggi

A Nice And Gentle Monday Morning.

 Village life...

Early, before the sun was even up I, sorry we, ran into an energetic and dapper octogenarian. He was dressed for the day going for his walk, whereas Maxi and I were mere minutes out of bed. A sight indeed.

We shot the breeze for a bit and then headed off into our separate directions. Fast forward an hour and a half...I had just come back from my solo walk and was turning into our street when I happened to pass the same man yet again. Only this time he was coming from the other direction.

    " Gosh, have you walked all this time? "

" Yes, I went to Deutsch-Schützen and back. Isn't it wonderful to be able to walk? "

What a fabulous person. He must have walked close close to 6 kilometres and to be honest, he didn't even look as though he had broken a sweat. As he told me; 

                                        " Wer rastet, der rostet / who rests rusts. "

Well, an inspirational start to the week indeed.

Later in the afternoon I took the boy yet again for his round and ran into a couple of our neighbours with their toddlers in tow. Gosh, at the top of my head I can think of at least 10 babies that were born this last year, on our block! What is happening? That is a Kindergarten class ready made!

As one does, I stopped to catch up on the latest news. There has been a lone walker, with crutches, backbrace and built up shoes which we didn't know how he featured into Eisenberg. Well, no longer. It turns out he the son of one of the Eisenbergers who is recuperating from an accident.

While I was standing there, one of the young mothers was fiddling with her top, a top that had a touch of maternity about it. I wasn't sure as nowadays these tops are trendy regardless if one is in the family way. It was a delicate moment which I chose to handle diplomatically by not asking if she was expecting. God forbid she had put on weight the normal way! Never mind though, the town crier will soon let me know if baby #11 is on the way...

Biggi

Back To The Eighties.

 Telepathy  and books.

It started yesterday morning at about half past seven. The internet went off and along with it all modern entertainment! Perhaps our modem was on the brink and so I did the faithful trick of ' switch-off/switch-on ' 

Normally that works although it takes an age to reload. Never mind, I had other stuff to do and I could wait. Well, wait I did. There was a red light on the modem indicating a problem and it stayed all day. By lunchtime I tried phoning mum to check in with her only to realize that our landline was dead too along with all cellphones, television ( we only stream ) and of course computer. Nice.

So now my mind went into overdrive. Did we forget to pay our bill or were the nefarious Russian hackers on the prowl? You know, being cut off from all from of communication lets one be rather ill-informed in regards to topics de jour.

In the afternoon I had to do some work for the local shop and when I got there, I asked whether they had internet. Thank goodness they didn't. It wasn't just us. No, it turns out that a couple of villages in our area were off the internet and basically off-grid. Even the shop couldn't place there supply order.

How dependent have we become with our love of internet? You know, yesterday was pretty much spent reading ( feeling a tad unwell and was home anyway ), reading and reading. Flashback to my youth. A time with no internet, no streaming and no cellphone.

A good time really. Less problems, more time and less worry. News were gotten once a day in the evening and while reading the daily paper. Old school really!

The evening ahead would be strange indeed. No television, no internet! Oh well reading it would have to be. Bob got home at around half past five and after he had shaken off the daily work-grind I told him about the lovely evening in store....only to be beaten by the red dot on our modem. It disappeared at the right time heralding the return of our internet. 

Biggi 

And There We Are, The First Day Of Spring.

 A new season, new beginnings. 

Yeah, finally winter is over and done with. Although quite a few die-hards are adhering to their convictions that an extremely cold spell is still ahead. Oh well, just like the one the newspapers predicted at the start of this winter - they mentioned the coldest winter yet - making us all rush out to batten down the warmth hatches. Still waiting, still happy.

Like clockwork the sun is out with a great show of strength and solidarity for this spring ahead. May it bode well for everyone. The mornings are of course still slightly on the chilly side but one can't have it all.

The season of drying one's laundry out for all and sundry to see is here and I love it. Nothing more soothing than to go up to hang out the washing and nothing more depressing at the start of winter realizing that many months ahead the washing will be wrangled over a drying horse. 

The birds have been tweeting at the top of their lungs since yesterday and mistakenly I thought they too were happy about the change of seasons. No, when I happened to glance outside to their feeding platform I couldn't believe my eyes. There one of our feral lodgers had taken up residence. Sitting mightily pretty on the outer rim of this bird-feeding-house. To lazy to hunt she thought she'd just sit and wait for supper to fly into her mouth. No wonder that our bird community were screeching at the top of their lungs at this affront!

This spring we can all hope and pray that life will return to normal for a country. To pray that certain individuals will finally come to their senses and stop this madness. What does it say about humanity that these acts of horror and evil are happening in front of our eyes if we are lucky and if not, are happening to us. History will not judge our generation well, and perhaps there is a small glimmer of hope for peace with the new season ahead.

Biggi

Tickling Our Memory Gland.

 All it takes is a bite.

The other day I bought two packets of dried figs because they were marked down by 50% and because I thought that perhaps Bob might like them. I am not too fond of them but will have one now and again.

So, after supper that day I gave Bob two of these dried figs as a desert. He bit into the first one and suddenly his whole face changed. He looked happy, almost ecstatic. What on earth? Bob closed his eyes and munched in mulched in happy memories.

That one bite he took brought him right back to a time in Kindergarten where he was given a dried fig. Happy times, exciting times and a time where his whole life was still an unwritten slate. His memory of that day had kicked in and it literally had made his day.

There is a tv channel that carries old faithfuls. American series from the 70's and 80's and as a bonus one can watch it in its original language. Love it. Earlier this afternoon I happened upon a couple of episodes of Cagney and Lacy. The iconic cop series from the 80's which of course now, seeing it from a modern standard looks rather silly. 

Never mind the weak story lines...seeing this program took my mind back to when I saw it originally. Back in the 80's. Who ever thought that time would go by so fast and that now I am re-watching it almost four decades later? Again, it was a time where my whole life was still ahead of me and if anyone had told me back then that before I knew it, decades would pass, I wouldn't have believed them.

Memories are fabulous things. It means that we have lived life, it means that we have experienced life and it means that we have anchors that keep the pillars of our character firmly anchored by our side.

Biggi

Daring To Defy The Sell-By-Date.

 Discovering long forgotten goods.

In the fridge of course. The vegetable tray to be exact and a punnet of soup vegetables. You know, this thrown together quartet of yellow carrot, orange carrot, flat celery and a twig of parsley. Seen in every vegetable aisle during winter and loved by Bob.

He enjoys making soup and usually when he comes along to shop the first thing he gets is  one of those punnets. Fair enough and jolly good as that means I have one less meal to make. But then again, best laid plans and so forth. Often he forgets and sadly the vegetables go off.

Well today I made a hearty soup and looked for extras to put into it while at the same time taking care of left overs. Bob's long forgotten punnet came to the fore and even I was surprised that most of its residents were still fine to use. Can you believe that the sell-by-date was the end of January? Yikes.

A few edges had to be discarded but on the whole there was nothing wrong with the vegetables. Made me think about the amount of times I have thrown away perfectly good food because someone had determined a date for their demise. An advertising ploy?

Makes one wonder who determines these official dates. One extra day, one extra week would save a lot of vegetables from being thrown away needlessly. Often we are like perfect little soldiers and follow orders instead of relying on our sense of what is still good enough to cook with and what's not.

So far so good with regards to our soup, and honestly, it should have made itself known by now. On to supper and maybe some further past their sell-by-date ingredients.

Biggi

Where Do The Weekends Go?

 How can two days seems so endlessly long yet wiz past in a jiffy?

The anticipation each and every Friday afternoon is huge. A prelude to a most divine mini-holiday. In our house we celebrate properly by eating pizzas or hamburgers. Putting us into weekend mood. As if that was necessary!

Saturdays are made up of the same amount of hours as a Wednesday or a Monday yet, at the start of it one feels an endless supply of hours for doing nothing at all or everything imagined. Plans are spun about like cotton candy and are as see-through as it too. Most of our plans dissipate once we realize how comfortable our couch is and how gripping our books are.

The weekend feels different for the ' kids ' too. Maxi is thrilled to have Bob home all day long and Mausi lives for her Saturday and Sunday afternoon snoozes with Bob. He'll announce a bout of reading in bed and all of us know that within ten minutes he is fast asleep with Mausi by his side. It doesn't matter what she is doing or where she is dozing, the minute she hears Bob head through to the bedroom she follows him and stays with him.

We have also established a habit of eating the same foods on weekends. Breakfast on a Sunday always entails toasted cheese and tofu scramble. We love it. Day time we each eat what we feel like eating but supper times we usually opt for a curry on Saturday night and a pasta dish on Sunday night. I know, slightly boring but we like the feeling of routine it give us. Kind of calming in these current uncertain times. A good life doesn't need to be filled with luxuries.

Now we are at the cusp of next week and again, I can't fathom where the time has gone. So many plans still there for next weekend, and so many books still to be read.

Biggi

The Gardeners Our Out On Masse.

 A new season.

Despite the early morning chill-today it must have been minus 8-the neighbourhood has turned into a thriving gardening community. Wherever I go there is a body labouring away in their garden.

Our next door neighbours are planting another crop of vegetables and I have to say, if I didn't know that they have a camera mounted, I might be tempted to unearth a carrot or two. Yes, they don't want anything to be taken and living in a small community means spying on each other. Either openly or through the lens of a camera. Much nicer to sit on one's veranda or window sill in order to find out what's what and who's with who!

Bob for some reason has been gripped by gardening fever and today we went to get several bags of manure. What he has in mind I am not so sure about but seeing that he loves watching episodes of Chili Klaus ( some torture event where contestants have to eat the hottest chilies on earth ) there will be hoards of chili bushes growing in our garden. As long as they are co-planted with tomatoes and herbs.

Both of our track record for growing vegetables is not that great. Except for one year where we had oodles of zucchini and come to think of that, I think we should plant some. The prices of them in the supermarkets are outrageous so that it has been months since I cooked with zucchini. Funny how some seasons certain vegetables are cheap in all the various supermarkets and the next season double the price. If every vegetable had doubled in price I would understand, but when it is a selection, a uniform selection, then it does seem strange.

The slowness of gardening is a wonderful stress reliever and keeps us grounded in such uncertain times. Keeps us in suspense and best of all, keeps us fed too...

Biggi