Another one of last year’s iris
Another one of last year’s iris
Just to put it straight, this is not my barbeque. It was on the occasion of one of our local meetings of our village first aid group.
When we moved to our little village in the Swiss outback Mr. Swiss decided we could now have a barbeque for the garden. Of course I agreed, but we really did not want a professional construction for roasting pigs or even cows on a spit. Just a concentrated glow for heating our sausages or steaks. We decided on something electric: just plug it in, let it get hot and roast whatever you had. Gas bottles were not our thing, as no-one was interested in hauling them to the grill and returning them to the shop when empty.
I was looking forward to Sunday dinners from the grill. I heard that grilling was a man thing which pleased me even more.
However, how wrong can you be. I had prepared our meat with spices etc and Mr. Swiss plugged in the grill. Then he retired, waiting for the finished product. My first mistake. The grill is not a man thing, at least in our home. And so the first barbeque meal was cooked, by me. I was also the person that cleaned the grill afterwards and freed it from the fat residue and burnt offerings that were left.
Needless to say the barbeque eventually disappeared in the cellar, never to be used again after a couple of months. That was 20 years ago. We now just savour the smells from the neighbours and see the smoke screens arising from some of their amateur efforts.
This was the first attempt of one of our neighbours. We was not sure if it was smoke signals to summon any Indians that might be around, or whether it as the preparation for her first grilled meal. This was two years ago and since that time we have not seen her bar-b-q. It has probably met the same fate as ours.
Admittedly not very picturesque, but I do not wear my cocktail dresses at home, just plain, simple and comfortable trousers, and my feet are just a conclusion to my leg, but that is not what I want to say. Being 1 meter 75 cms tall there is nothing micro anything on my appearance. I was the tallest in the school class am still one of those that shows in a crowd. However, if you look carefully you might notice something. As I have been living with it for some time, I did not really notice it at first.
I now realise that all trousers that I buy have a manufacturing mistake. The left leg is longer that the right leg. No matter what I wear for trousers, jeans or casual the left side material hangs further down than the right, at least that is what I thought. However after examining the situation more in detail I have come to the conclusion that since I broke my left leg it is now shorter than the right leg, about 2 centimetres, especially the distance from the body and the knee. My right knee is lower than my left knee. Do I now qualify for an entry in the Guiness Book of Records? In this case there is no blame on the clothes manufacturers. I would add I have developed a slight limp and have to lift my left leg to put it in the car with my hands. It now longer moves so well on its own. Even Mr. Swiss noticed this anomaly, but nobody is perfect.
A Thuja hedge
I was taking a walk outside this morning, filling the bird feeder and noticed that the leaves have now really fallen all over the planting area. I decided to leave them for a while. I do not have the time or energy at the moment to rake them together and they do make a nice colourful basis between the plants that still exist.
I even discovered that my gaura still has a couple of flowers here and there making a spot of colour. They must be the last, as temperatures during the night are now around 0°C, even a little lower.
I got my family excursion to the local authorities achieved yesterday afternoon. It was good to go somewhere with both of my sons. It was family business and I took some good impressions with me afterwards. At least that is now dealt with for now.
Otherwise I have a new obstacle to conquer. I have a cleaning lady, I pay her a wage and everything is fine, at least I thought so. Of course I have reported that to the authorities (again that word) and pay the necessary fees in connection with the state pension as I am technically her employer. I have now received a letter and document to complete from the pension people. The problem is it is complicated for me being in German. There is a web site for support and they write a very nice and polite letter with it to tell me I can call them for any help I might need for filling out the form, which I will do. I have a few months time to complete the details, but I am slowly losing my patience with such surprise letters. Mr. Swiss gives me a bit of advice, but I still have to do it myself.
For a light point in my day, my amaryllis has yet opened another flower bud, now making three. Usually there are four, but this particular sort has only produced three, but really big and special.
I have now attached a supporting stick to the stem to make sure it does not decide to take a plunge when the flowers get too heavy and the plant loses its balance.
Today will be back to normality I hope with a little bit of cleaning in the morning, nothing big, and preparing lunch. This afternoon a normal excursion to the store for a few items of grocery and that is all. I am now gradually losing my patience with all these extra tours I have been having lately, and the various other jobs in between dealing with documents. I always thought that growing old was a peaceful job, but there are so many details to deal with, especially if there are no smooth runnings.
I am also on a late start this morning so will now move on. Have a good day everyone, stay safe or sleep well, whichever the case is.
Je gratte, donc je suis
My "bump" was in 2016, aged 48, when I suffered a stroke. This blog charts my recovery. (Header clipart licensed by pngguru.com.)
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