It's Blackberry Season Again.

Still warm, homemade blackberry jam dolloped over vanilla ice cream.

Bob had espied another secret location of blackberry bushes and had firstly asked permission of their owner and secondly made me come along to pick them. Yesterday was the day.

He had stumbled onto a bank of lushious and plum berries but needn't have worried about keeping it a secret as the location of them was not for the faint of heart. Cunningly, he wore trainers instead of his usual Crocs and conveniently forgot to mention that I should wear closed and sturdy shoes.

He had been working on a set of vines last week and half way down their row, had found this blackberry paradise. The vines in question are on the steepest part of our Eisenberg where even a tractor wouldn't dare be wheeled about. Steep and dangerous in Birkenstocks, or any other shoes for that matter.

By the way, I couldn't take any photos as it was steep and my hands were extremely sticky too. Sunday morning saw us collecting one and a half kilograms of blackberries ( that is what our jam recipe needs ) in the most spectacular setting and it took us about 15 minutes.

Driving back, we stopped at our local grocer to buy some vanilla ice cream and then home to start the jamming. Really, it is the easiest bit of culinary work there is.

• Clean and boil the jam jars for a few minutes.
• Weigh the fruit and then put into a big pot and sprinkle a packet of sugar ( Prepacked with the pectin in it. You can buy the various mixes...1/1, 2/1 and 3/1. We always use the latter which means 3 parts fruit and 1 part sugar )
• Let the fruit mixture slowly melt and come to a boil. Then simmer it for 8 minutes and that's that.
• Put the hot jam liquid into the jars, close them tight and put them upside down to let them set.

Yes, that's all really! Bob and I are often astounded, amazed and puzzled at the fact that so few people make their own jams. Firstly it's much better tasting, secondly you know what's in it and thirdly, it is much cheaper than the bought stuff.

If those three points didn't convince you to give jamming a shot, then maybe this will. Just picture in your mind the taste combination of warm homemade blackberry jam dolloped over a cup of delicious vanilla ice cream? Not to mention the brilliant colour combination...

Biggi

A Sunny Nod For The Weekend.

A collective cheer seems to be about in our village.

It's official. Moaning about the weather is universal and after the weeks on end of extreme sunny weather ( let's say as hot as blazes ) one would imagine that a week of rain would be as welcome as a win in the Lotto. The first few days of rain were celebrated by donning raincoats and displaying extra curly locks, but after day three, the smiles had certainly got less.

Even though I don't really mind having rainy weather as it makes it better to snuggle up and read, having rain days on end does crimp our ability to do laundry. Silly actually as in winter we do laundry too...although suspiciously not as much as in summer. Let's say 4 loads a week compared to perhaps one or two. A smelly winter indeed.

We don't favour a tumble dryer and thus are devout fans of the old fashioned washing line spun between the barn wall and a tree. A lot of multi coloured pegs complete the picture. In summer, it is pure bliss to be able to hang up a load of washing while the sun is shining, the lawn is green and the blackbirds are singing. It's the best feeling in the world when I have the right washing powder too. It's all in the scent you know, and the memories it evokes!

Hanging the laundry on our line seems to also be a siren call for our Tigger. For some odd but very cute reason, she loooves watching us put laundry on the line. She even stops eating to sit a meter from us, while we shake and peg away. Too cute for words.

We had heard rumours on the radio ( weather men and their predictions usually leave much to be desired...) that on Friday the sun would make an appearance and a long one too. The morning started out overcast with the odd drop of rain and like magic, as soon as the noon bell went, the sun came out accompanied by azure blue Burgenland skies. Magical to say the very least.

Driving to do an errand later on, I noticed that almost everyone in our village had hung a load of washing on their lines and the motorized buzz of lawnmowers was ever present on the wind. Spiffy lawns all over and not to forget that divine smell of freshly cut grass. A sign of summer right there.

Hanging washing on the line with our cat looking on, seeing azure blue skies and hearing the blackbirds happily frolicking on our roof while being enveloped by the fresh aroma of a cut lawn, is one of life's simple pleasures. Simple yet effective.

Biggi.

I chose well...a husband who does laundry!

A Picturesque Sunday In Burgenland.

Breathtaking, warm and oh so moreish...

If this view is not enough to tempt even the most
" let's rather stay in bed lot " to venture forth, then I don't know. These morning impressions are the best and maybe in the next few days I will see more villagers out & about.

Yet again one can see that all roads lead, if not to Rome, then at least to a church...

When you look at this photo, the urge to keep poultry is rather strong. A few chickens or a few geese in our yard wouldn't be so bad! Mind you, the geese would out - quack the neighbour's dog!

The lane to inner happiness perhaps?

The autumn colour spectrum is too dazzling for words. Soothing too, especially the red morphing into orange.

A vineyard by the sea it seems. Amazing how the fog has changed our perception. I could imagine a little sailboat hurtling along.

Oh, that could almost be a flash back to times past. Times when the ocean / lake was predominant. Wow, it does feel like a fisherman's cottage by the sea. Fish & wine, what more could one want?

This was taken a mere 200 meters down the hill. Still in the Deutsch Schützen vineyards. These type of Kellerstöckl are usually for rent. Wouldn't that make a nice holiday spot? Beats the beach hands down!

Lastly, but not least here is the usual weekend occupation of a typical angler enthusiast. This pond is in front of our house ( no, the one mirrored in the water is not ours ) and this image is seen often by us...

Biggi

A Bunch Of Sheep, A Sheepdog & Alternate Way Of Life.

On the trail of a herd of sheep.

Walking into Deutsch-Schützen yesterday afternoon, I saw something strange on the top of the hill in front of me. A flash of red and little bodies shimmying about. It looked like a lot of sheep or a lot of dogs. Without my glasses, the stuff in the distance is often a bit of a mystery to me. When I looked again, who ever it was had disappeared over the hill. But when I stumbled across these little parcels of smelly pebbles in the road, I knew that I had seen sheep.

Gosh, who would have known that a bunch of sheep are such fast movers. I usually walk so fast that they call me the " Fast Walker " in our village but I battled to catch a glimpse of these sheep. It was rather fortunate that they put in a rest stop and I got a chance to catch up with them.

It turns out that I know the shepherdess and we had a nice time chatting and counting sheep! It was fantastic watching these little sheep grazing and jostling for position. Julia, the shepherdess, told me that they were taking the herd back home. These sheep are organically reared ones and get taken around our area to graze. Julia and her husband have a about 5 different flocks which they walk to the various meadows. This particular lot had had their fill of an overgrown hill in the vineyards. To steep for a tractor to navigate and thus they were called in. Fabulous.

Aren't they gorgeous? I hope I don't smell like a sheep, because they didn't bother about me and even walked extremely close to me...! A lot of

" Mmmmahhh's "

could be heard.

Isn't the white buck cute? Julia had told me that the herd was only made up of male sheep. They are sheep breeders and therefore there is no casual mating... no Hanky Panky unless it is supervised!

The sheep and I....what a great way of life. That must be one of the nicest jobs to have. Being outside in nature, being with animals and getting paid for it.

If you look closely, you can spot the sheepdog under that stand. The whole time I was there, Julia every now and then would issue commands to the dog, and it would run circles around the herd. Of course they are a cheeky lot and the dog had to do some herding twice.

Mingling with animals is so good for the soul. The simple life is a great life.

Biggi

Lunch Almost Mushrooms Out Of Control.

A basket of handpicked mushrooms from the forest just in time...

A lazy Saturday morning morphed into an early lunch. The first signs of hunger just made an appearance and I was wondering what to make to appease them, when Bob walks in holding the solution.

As you know, we have been so prolific with our jamming, that we of course hand the spoils over to friends and family with great gusto. Bob did a jam run yesterday morning to our friends down the road. It sounds very complicated but merely involves Bob putting on slops and meandering 50 meters down the lane holding jars of our homemade jam.

Well, he came back laden with goods. The goods. Bob was carrying a basket brim full with mushrooms. Mushrooms that had just been picked in the forest behind us. No, Bob didn't pick them. Our friend did a quick foray into the forest and picked mushrooms for us, as a Thank you. Look, everyone who has a spot to pick mushrooms keeps it a secret. Great care is taken so that nobody follows or discovers the location. There is an artform to picking mushrooms and finding their hang-out!

Honestly, in the past I have always been the observer when my Mum cooked hand picked mushrooms. To many story books of the poison mushrooms etc swirling around in the head. On top of which I tend to think that at least one person needs to be alert enough to drive to the doctor, should a bad mushroom have slipped into the batch! Yet, for some reason, yesterday I decided to eat the mushrooms.

Bob cleaned them while I quickly drove to our tea-room to get old bread rolls to make Knödels. Oh, Mushrooms with Knödels is a must...

" Bob, you would know if a bad mushroom was in there? "
" No, but my friend hand-picked them for us. They are perfect! "
" Well, as long as you were a good friend this past week....?!"

It took about twenty minutes to clean them. In the meantime I had phoned my Mum to double check how to make the perfect Knödel. In the past they have been known to break up in the pot and create a bready soup...which doesn't look or taste good!

If only I could find words that are ample enough to describe to you the wonderful aroma that wafted throughout the house. Even before we cooked them. There is a distinct aroma to a real mushroom ( made by nature, not in a hothouse ) that encompasses the meadows, leaves, earth, moss and perfect soil. The forest mushroom only grows when the conditions are perfect for it. The aroma wafting when we started to cook them, was a notch up the ladder of fabulous taste sensations.

I was halfway down the driveway when I did a quick turn around to ask Bob to take a few photos. He had already cleaned half the basket. But don't these look delectable?

The expert at work! Doesn't he look like he has cleaned mushrooms all his life? This was the second time only and he did a jolly nice job.

The mushrooms are ready to cook & the raw Knödels look in perfect shape...but will they survive the 20 long minutes in hot water?

Oh yes, they did. Not perfectly round, but in tact. The only cost of this meal was the 4 eggs & the old bread rolls. A feast for kings...

We couldn't get enough of this. Oh what a gourmet experience on a Saturday lunch in the country...

Biggi

Amazon.de/at:Pareys Buch der Pilze: Über 1500 Pilze Europas
Amazon.com:Mushrooming without Fear: The Beginner's Guide to Collecting Safe and Delicious Mushrooms

Life Lesson #888: Follow The Sheep.

Animals are in the know...

Sheep are notoriously weather hardened animals. They are most often seen strutting it out in mountainous terrain, on manicured lawns or wherever they happen to be grazing. Water or rather rain makes no difference to them. Or does it?

A happy herd of sheep is often seen touring the various backyards or lawns that need trimming. There is an organic sheep farmer in one of the neighbouring villages and he and his wife do take their big herd of sheep all over the district. They follow the long grass and frankly it would make Bob's life much easier if they would visit our backyard for a week or two. It feels so nice and rural when you spot the sheep all over.

As seems usual behaviour for us, we were showing our visitors " Aloisia's " and all the nice creamy cake creations she sells. Our friends made the expected ( from us ) sounds of delight. Stumbling across such a nice coffee & cake emporium in the midst of rural Burgenland seems to do that. To be honest, I still get enthralled by Aloisia's even if I have been there more than eh...once!

After having a strong cup of coffee we left and were on the way to the next stage of grazing. Oh yes, eating out is a must in Burgenland too. Parking at Aloisia's is done at the back and next to a huge meadow. In fact,from there you can see as far as the snow capped mountains of the next province. Rural, pastoral and green. Soul food.

At first I didn't see them, but when I looked closely I saw a few sheep hiding under an old cart.
( No, they were not from the organic troop but possibly Aloisia's sheep to wow us confectionery tourists / enthusiasts ) Goodness, they were clever and not a single hoof was exposed to the elements. We had just had a downpour and these sheep wanted to be sheltered. The odd thunder strike could be heard as well and I think that is what had them cowering there.

Waiting out the danger. Hanging safely until better conditions came. They took it easy and waited until the perceived danger passed. No stress and it did look rather fun. Maybe we need to take a leaf out of their book. Danger waited out in comfort seems a much better idea to me. Rushing headfirst into danger is more apt for Hollywood movies and a few adrenalin junkies...

Biggi

A nice thought, hiding out under there!

Names, Horses & Authentic Living.

" Seeing a man about a horse..."

Do you do this too? Remembering names is not the easiest thing in the world. Who hasn't mumbled some sort of name hoping it was the right one or rather skirted the issue by re-assigning a new name to them... " you " ? My little trick is to associate features with people:

• " Oh, Bob the man with the black car was there. "
• " The man who always rides a gazillion times up the hill on his bicycle. "
• " The man riding his lawnmower sporting Ray Bans. "

Bob had a job with a new client yesterday and it was the man with two horses. That is how I think of him, as for the last few years he and his wife often ride around the area on two wonderful steeds. Never having enough time to chit chat whilst the horses are impatiently trying to take the bit between their teeth, names were never mentioned. They probably think of me as ' the woman who walks all year round ' ...

Yesterday, he brought a computer to our house for Bob to sort out, I met him officially and when Bob had finished we were invited for a cup of coffee at his house. I knew they were weekend villagers ( it sounds silly, but a lot of people work elsewhere during the week and therefore are known as weekend villagers to me ). They live in a cute authentic Burgenland cottage and at times when I walk past their home, I hear the horses neighing in their paddock. Romantic indeed.

Fences and hedges are a two fold thing: you can't see in and you can't see out...Privacy indeed. Yesterday after a few years of walking passed, I got a glimpse of the other side of the hedge. A little bit of Burgenland paradise. Oh yes, they have created an authentic, rural oasis of relaxation. A text book image of a place to unwind, relax and enjoy life. Stress & hurry are left at the gate and only donned again on the way back to the city.

Burgenlanders, born or transplanted, love life. Life not defined by how much you have ( of course there are plenty of wealthy people here ), what you look like or who you know. Not at all. Life in Burgenland is akin to living as authentic and real as can be. There are tough times as well as good times, but Burgenlanders enjoy every day to the fullest. They live and breathe that lifestyle that eludes so many. A good life, a happy life and a life not defined by possessions.

Last Saturday we were invited along to a Buschenschank ( At Rennhofer's and it was very nice ) in our village. There were about ten of us and we had the best time. While I sat enjoying the evening, I realized why our area is so special. Most of the villagers have grown up together. Gone to Kindergarten, school and through life together. That forms unbreakable bonds of friendship. Genuine friendship and great people.

Biggi

You Can't See It All, So Stop Trying...

A Slow Holiday to meet your soul.

We do all rush around like mad trying to circumvent the trials and tribulations of our daily life. Deep down we all know that the stumbling and road blocks were put up with our own hands or rather attitude. Aren't we a carbon copy of the old fashioned worker ants? Never mind the hamster analogy.

Some have annual holidays of 6 weeks and some only of 2 weeks, yet most of us use them in a similar way. Cram as much activity into them as possible. Gosh, we don't want to dare miss out on anything do we? How are we meant to relax at that pace. Taking European holidays where you see 10 cities in 5 days ( isn't that how they market it ) clearly means that you will spend a lot of time re-packing your suitcase and lugging it on or off a tour bus. Not what I would call fun.

Connecting, meeting and hanging out with our inner soul is jolly difficult when we surround ourselves with stuff and activities on our holiday. A mere dose of calm and a case of less is what we need. Imagine going an a holiday where the most stressful decision might be what time to get up and have a cup of coffee. Or if you should get dressed today. Should you open another bottle of wine or where to go for a boozy lunch...eh, or both?

There was a documentary about Switzerland and its mountainous areas. Rather remote and hardly populated yet beautiful and soothing. Greens of all shades interspersed with delightful wild flowers. The one idea that struck a cord for me was that that when you take a holiday away from the beaten track, it gives you the time to meet your soul. To reconnect and really take a break from your reality. To have a holiday!

A holiday shouldn't be about gathering facts, photos and souvenirs to show your friends, family and co-workers back home. A holiday to impress others and depress yourself. Frankly, those holiday pics being hauled out at dinner parties strike fear in many, the fatter the album is...It is somewhat easier on Facebook as you can look or not at your leisure. ( Since the advent of Smartphones we do tend to live our lives in byte-sizes and with an audience in mind! )

For a lot of us, taking a holiday in our own home might be the answer:

• Your friends & family are aware of what your home looks like so there is no need to haul out the camera.
• You know all your surrounding attractions and aren't tempted to rush around seeing them.
• You save so much on airfare / bus fare / hotels that you can cook outrageous meals with prawns / steak / wine etc.
• You can take a day trip to that restaurant you always talked about, and enjoy the day.
• If you yearn for it, you can spend a day at your local mall and go crazy...remember you have saved on hotels and airfare!

The world is such a big place with so many wonderful attractions to see. But we also need to realize, that we can't see it all...Let's start a trend to take Slow Holidays.

Biggi

Slow Is Fast: On the Road at Home

Wheat, So Vital & Beautiful, How Could You Not Like It?

The basics of life...

Luckily I got there just in time. The wheat slasher is doing the rounds. No, not some escapee from an asylum but an escapee from a barn. The farmers are starting to harvest the wheat. It is just at its most beautiful and attractive, but we need to use the wheat for more than its looks.

As I was transferring the photos it occurred to me that this wheat is vital for us all. This colourful bit of canvas is the main ingredient for cakes, breads and so much more. We should really go back to the old ritual of giving thanks for the harvest. When did we learn to take it all for granted? We want bread...we go to the nearest shop.

One of the ladies I go and have coffee with, told me how during the War ( the second one ) the only food they had to eat was what they grew and reared themselves. They planted a field of wheat
( and obviously much more ) and this harvest would get them through the Winter. In fact, once the wheat was harvested by hand,as only some had a horse to help with the harvesting, they had to take it five kilometers to the mill. Once it was milled, they would put the sacks of flour ( or rather wealth ) in the attic where they had wooden containers. This would get the through the winter. Makes you think, doesn't it?

The other day, I stumbled across a reminder:

If you ate today, thank a farmer.

You know, when you see it as stark as this, it takes a few minutes to get the whole punchline. No, even the supermarkets would be empty without farmers. Without farmers, we aren't, pure and simple. Farming should be the most revered and well paid profession there is.

Farmers & Teachers should earn more than....you can fill in this space!

Let me come back to my photos. Wheat in all its different guises. I hope you'll enjoy it.

The stage is set.

Nice, isn't it? A perfect combo...

Nature almost seems gift wrapped.

Intricate, delicate and bountiful. This is will make our food.

The two sides fighting over the beauty in the middle.

The last scene after the harvester has done its rounds.....

Biggi

A Few Chicks, Cherries & Great Neighbours.

Picking cherries with a difference.

Yeah, it is cherry season and it seems that everyone in our village has a tree or two in their yards. The farmer who owned this smallholding before us, planted many other fruit trees but not cherry. I must say, it isn't the easiest fruit to pick except from the low lying branches. Of course,as Nature has it, all the delectable cherries are normally just out of arm's reach and a long ladder is needed. Last week I saw a kilo of cherries being sold at Lidl ( a discounter ) for Euro 6,99...oh yes, every backyard in our village has a wealth tree! More of a saving tree, as no one really picks the fruit.

The word got around that Bob and I love to jam. As Schatzi has slightly opposing music tastes to mine, we only do real jamming. You know; plum jam, peach jam and of course cherry jam. If only you know how easy it is to make jam you'd never buy another tin / jar again. This last week, three neighbours have kindly offered us the full use of their cherries. Great. Nice. Yummy. Even just wanting a bit of fruit only means going across the road and picking some of the tree.

Our immeadite neighbour has fabulous cherries ( hardly any worms ) and picking them comes along with a bit of entertainment. His cherry trees are where he keeps his chickens. He is the one who has created a sort of Disneyland for his chickens. They are a happy lot and often we can hear their " chicky-chats " across the road. Sometimes we get some of their eggs too. The proper organic free range type...

Anyway, I went on my own to pick a kilo & a half of cherries ( amount for one batch ) as Bob was toiling the vineyards. Naturally I took along my camera and decided to at first sit among the chickens to get a few shots in. When you have picked a few cherries, you know that your hands will be sticky and sweet. Not good for the camera. Just as well Bob wasn't there, because I took a lot of pictures. A whole lot, which I only realized when I loaded them onto the computer. But it was worth it.

I only wanted to get a few nice " chicken " shots so that I could give our neighbour a framed picture, as he loves his chickens and I want to thank him for always being so generous. When I saw some of the shots, they were to precious, funny and nice not to show you...

These chicks like to pose...

To be honest, I got a little bit scared when she came towards me.

Oh this is classic! I put it on Twitter yesterday and asked:
" Did you have a tad bit too much wine as well? "....and of course I got a response.

" My leg hurts, have you got your pic now? "

Gosh, what a colourful and nice plumage.

Biggi

Grandparents Are A Treasure Trove Of Amazing Stories.

Even without gadgets life was possible & huge fun!!!

Most of us squeal in horror when the electricity is interrupted or dare I say on hiatus for a day or so. We have been reared on modern luxuries. Yes, luxury. Think about it, we have almost everything done for us by a machine of sorts. Even being entertained is incredible simple: switch on the telly or computer...

A lot of us women tend to forget ( and I mean women because men are not so much associated with this chore ) that our grandmothers had no washing machine. Laundry got done on a washboard and by hand. Huge pots of water had to be boiled and most often there was a separate building - the wash kitchen / laundry. To be fair, men had so many other chores involving hard work, that they wouldn't have had the time to help with the laundry.

Doing the laundry once a week was a huge deal associated with a gargantuan amount of hard work. The whites were rubbed clean until they were a sparkling quality ( even our modern marvels can't get it as white ). Each item in the laundry basket was washed by hand! Can you imagine, what an extra load of laundry a baby brought? Remember, there were no Pampers to toss away. No, the nappies had to be washed, rinsed, boiled and used again. Oh, and lest we forget, most of our grandparents had 7 or 8 children on the trot.

Oh, when you consider that, our lives are so easy and comfortable and having several small kids is a breeze with the help of Pampers and washing machines...?!

The other day, one of the elderly ladies in the village told me about how life was when she was a teenager. I love listening to these stories because they are so fascinating and it was a bonus to see the spark return to her eyes. They shone and sparkled with wonderful memories. Any hard work was forgotten. We forget that only compared to modern times was it hard work. Then it was the norm and just part of life.

We live near a small river and all those years ago, the river had so many uses. She told me that when it was freezing cold, the kids would go to the frozen over river and pick-axe slabs of ice out of it. They would cart it back to their house where it got stored in an underground hole / dug out space. The fridge for the summer. The cellar ( or chamber ) would be cool all summer long and help preserve a few more food items. Ingenious, wasn't it?

Sometimes it is a change of perspective that can give us a new appreciation for our lives and how blessed we actually are...

Biggi

A cheerful shrub.

Even more stunning in a close up.

Oh, Spring Is Sprung & Dare I Say It Makes Me Feel Young.

Happiness is everywhere.

It must be the extra tweets the birds are belting out. Oh, yes it is officially Spring. Yesterday was an amazing day and wherever I looked it seems that happiness abounded. Real world & the virtual one.

Bob and I happened to find ourselves in Oberwart to return a library book. We had ten minutes to while away before they opened for the afternoon. Luckily for us, they are situated in town which is littered with coffee shops that sell oodles of ice cream.

When in Rome and all that, saw us sitting on a bench outside the shop, savouring our ice creams. Such a simple thing, sitting and eating ice cream whilst watching the world pass by. Oh, divine. We saw Mums taking their young - uns to get ice cream. Those young kids were so excited about the prospect and almost danced, hopped and skipped to the parlour.

One kid had obviously chosen an exotic combination ( maybe so that no one would try and finish it for him. Yes, Mothers do tend to do that! ) As they passed our bench, all we heard was,

" Are you sure that was a good choice? Chocolate and sour lemon? "

" Oh Mum, you don't understand. "

Clever boy, because his Mum wasn't going to eat his ice cream...

The weather played along perfectly and it was so warm that a load of washing dried on the line in about 2 hours. Yes, we had up to 23 degrees. Don't get me wrong, I adore Winter and all that goes with it: Staying indoors and curling up with a book on the couch. Walking in the snow. The festive season and all those yummy Christmas biscuits. Yet, it was a welcome relief to be caressed by the sunshine. It was a relief to only wear a light jacket and to sport normal hair...not hat hair!

Happy Spring Everyone...Or Happy Autumn for those on the other side of the world.

Frank Sinatra always comes to my mind with the words: Spring is Sprung. Here he is a recording of him in Las Vegas in 1966:
Amazon.com: You Make Me Feel So Young (Live At The Sands Hotel And Casino/1966)

Biggi

Aren't those the best? Daisies making themselves seen among the brilliant green lawn.

Looks all warm & fuzzy.

Tulips outside our house. They were planted years ago by the previous owner yet they are still here. Magic.

Entertainment Value Of A Simple Sharpener!

Who knew that a humble and simple sharpener could provide so much fun?

What I like to call our faithful English kids, have been with us for over a year now, more or less 1 hour per week. We have seen them progress from an age with all their milk teeth in place, to one where the front two are glaringly missing.

Isn't it funny how we would hotfoot it to the dentist while they are extremely proud and chuffed with that gap. That GAP shows all and sundry that they are no longer little! ( Trying to pronounce some English words through that gap can be rather funny though. )

I won't bore you with the gory details we were told. You know the details of how those teeth left the gums. Not by themselves I gather. It involved a thread, door handle and a not-so-squeamish Dad! When those two front teeth were still dangling in the gums, she wanted to pull them out in our class. Bob nearly had a cadenza at the thought of what he would see. It took him all his effort to deter her.

Last year Bob and I bought a box of wax crayons for the kids. Over time they became well used and rather blunt. For weeks I was reminded by one girl to please buy a sharpener. In fact her
" Oh no Biggi, you forgot again! " comment made me rush out and buy a sharpener.

If I had known how much fun they would have with it, I would have bought one sooner. Yesterday was a surprising and eventful class for us. The quietest kid in the group opened the crayon box, saw the sharpener and said in English " Oh, a Sharpener ". Goodness, I was so proud that he could recall such a difficult word.

Then he started to sharpen one of the wax crayons, successfully. Not such an easy task with a pencil sharpener. Once he had turned to the next crayon, the bits falling from the sharpener created a nice mixture of filings. All of a sudden, the others noticed his efforts. The Uno game in progress was stopped halfway. Clearly the sharpening affair was far more interesting!

It took about two minutes before the sharpener was wrestled from him and the next one had a go. The pile of filings grew larger and more colourful. To be honest, I would have liked to have had a turn as well, but all three were fighting over how many each could sharpen. Just in case they would run out of crayons to sharpen, one girl ingeniously ( oh yes, the one with the GAP ) took a crayon and broke it in two. Instantly more sharpening material...

Oh yes, I was once again reminded that the simple things in life can be and are so much fun.

Biggi

The before and after. Clearly hours of fun still ahead..

Who Has More Check-up's, You Or Your Car?

November 14th was #WorldDiabetesDay.

The heading might sound a bit funny, but for most people it rings true. We are so keen to make sure our cars are properly serviced and looked after, but when it comes to our health we often turned a blind eye or a deaf ear ( who hasn't ignored a " Should you be eating that? " ).

Those world diabetes days, tend to kick our butts into action from cyberspace. All we need to do is have a simple blood test at our doctor or pharmacy. Yes, it might cost us money. Yes, it means a pin prick and a possible quick pain. And yes...we find out for sure!

Finding out for sure might be the reason some of us are too scared to do the test. Somehow visions of bad tasting food will appear. That was so yesteryear. Food cooked the diabetic way is so yummy and easy to make. Once you have weened yourself off the fast food and ready made foods, your taste buds change.

Diabetes is a very serious condition, but it is very manageable and preventable. There are of course several warning signs, and here is a list of signs & symptoms .

Most of you reading this will not have diabetes, but you might know someone who does. Most of you will not get it, but the habits passed on to your kids can determine their future health. In a positive or negative way. Sorry, I know this is a harsh statement to make.

Why not start today and incorporate a few simple changes into your lifestyle. Just do it for 30 days.

• Change any ' white ' starches ( pasta / flour / rice / bread ) to wholewheat / brown.
  They don't cost that much more and they actually have more taste.
• Do 30 mins of excercise each day. Walking, cycling or even just walking up and down at the local mall.
• Here is an easy one for the wallet: Make all meals yourself. Don't buy fast or ready made foods.
• Eat more vegetables

On a personal note, by pure chance, Bob was diagnosed with diabetes in February. On the day he had his blood tested, our Doctor told us one thing, that has stuck in my mind: " You know, his blood sugar level is so high, that if we hadn't discovered it today, in the not so distant future he might not have woken up! ". Have your loved one's checked out. It only takes a little bit of time, but might give you a lifetime in return....

Biggi

Bob makes our bread now. Will tell you his recipe in tomorrows blog.

The taster! Oh yes, he got the Scherzel / crust...the most tasty part of any bread. Luckily each loaf has two!!

Bob's Our Chief Chicken Soup Maker!

A real chicken soup, with no cans or packets in sight.

Unless you are glued to the various Food Channels on your TV, it might come as a surprise that one still makes chicken soup from a chicken! Of course it is so much simpler to just snip the top of a packet or use a can opener, but once you give the wake up call to your taste buds with real chicken soup, any other type just won't pass muster.

Even the consistency is vastly superior. A sort of velvety smooth look, taste and feel. Chickens on the whole are a tad bit expensive. We only pounce when the local shop has a delivery of chickens that were running around outside and ate healthy meals. As the prices are rather high, we tend to buy the smallest ones on offer.

On the way home yesterday, I couldn't resist buying a chicken. Honestly, the next part in the production of this chicken soup is not my metier. One needs to skin this raw chicken and cut it into various portions. The minute I walked through the door there was only one option for me:
" Bob, I have a surprise for you in the kitchen." Oh yes, Bob fell for it, helped along by his current love of making various soups.

In fact, he has been commandeering the kitchen of late and let me tell you that there was no protest from me! In fact I tried to be as quiet as a mouse lest he awoke from his soup making trance with outrageous thoughts of maybe passing the baton back to me.

My only defence is that Bob does make much better soups than I and who wouldn't enjoy this feeling...you know, sitting watching a soap on Telly while someone cooks for you!
Hearing ( instead of making ) the symphony of chopping, scraping and stirring with the occasional swear word is rather refreshing.

Biggi

Bob in his favourite place ( at the moment ). My Schatzi does look like a chef...

Man at work.

The delicate touch of spices.

Carrots are store bought but the celeriac is from our garden.

Yippee, My Knitting Bug Has Finally Woken Up Again.

Those happenstance knitting hiatuses can be rather daunting for a serious knitter!

It might have been the colder weather, Bob's ensuing trip to much colder climes ( Denmark to see the family in December ) or maybe my fingers just needed to have a thread running over them. Yes, the bug has surfaced in tact after its rather lengthy dormancy.

In this past year I had cast a quick eye over wool displayed, but had no urge to place it into my shopping basket. To anyone who has been bitten by the knitting adventure, that can be quite daunting. Are there any other knitters out there who tend to have those lengthy hiatuses or am I the only one?

Bob voiced his desire for a Beanie. A handmade Beanie. To be more precise, he wanted me to make him one. Fair enough, a wife knows when she has to obey...Secretly, I was pleased as punch at the prospect. A gentle way to ease back into the knitting circle. Well, there was one major hurdle to get over.

Bob is sort of picky when it comes to colours. Like anyone else, he has his own taste and sticks with it. It didn't take me long after meeting him, to find that out. Going clothes shopping with Bob was soon dropped after our first year together.

Who knew that men could be so fastidious. Well, his Mom has endured lots of lengthy angry teenage clothes-shopping sessions with Bob:
" Mom, you can't make me wear that. This is stuff that Dad would wear! " and she has long ago passed the baton back to Bob. Easier to give him money.

Bob has set his heart on a blue Beanie. At the local wool shop / haberdashery he decided to wait in the car ( no doubt drumming his fingers impatiently on the steering wheel and flirting with the hooter ). There wasn't a big selection and as fussy as Bob is with colours, so I am fussy about the quality of wool.

Knitting with inferior quality feels dreadful on the hands. Managing to whittle down the selection, I wisely called in Bob and sure enough, he chose a wool, that I hadn't even considered. That could have almost become a Beanie for someone else...!

Sunday was the perfect day to get started and I am so glad I did. Knitting is one of those
" in the moment " activities and I can only recommend it.

Biggi

Attempt 1 of Bob's Beanie.

Amazon.com:ArtBin Yarn Drum 12-inches round by 12-3/4-inches high, Periwinkle
Amazon.de/at:KnitPro Symfonie Design-Holz Rundstricknadel 10,0 mm 100 cm Stricknadel Lana Grossa
Amazon.uk:Knitted Beanies (Twenty to Make)