Category Archives: SILLY MOOSE

Sleepless In Denmark

“Remember having asked me about possible reasons for not doing this anymore?” he says suddenly, unexpectedly. “This would be one. But we can avoid that in the future.”

He is right, of course: while we have started our paddling tour in Denmark before the school holidays begin, we should still have expected larger campsites to attract youngsters of a certain kind at any time. Certain kind means being able to tow unbelievable quantities of beer crates to the campsite and at the same time unable to get very far by paddling on the river, which is where the cars come in, at some later point.

And did I mention the Soccer World Cup was to start soon?

Anyway, we did not get much sleep in our tent that night, but I chose not to grow the huge bags under my eyes without a fight. I shared my personal opinion about the partying youngsters with my restless husband and didn’t spare him any details: I was quite sure the Danes understood enough German to know what my problem was. They did. And were soon making fun of my “Scheiße!”. Which was when the i-word was used. But before things got any worse, the idiots stopped singing, yelling and talking and went to sleep, leaving us to try to do the same.

At that point, we had done quite some paddling and really needed some rest, and I would have preferred to end the day by going through the lovely pictures of the magnificent Gudenå in my head, but river fans cannot be choosers, so.

Our tour had started in Skanderborg, a day later than planned because the wind was trying so hard to blow away the gravity of the water, as it often does. What else to do but to go shopping instead: Aarhus offered its facilities and we said thank you, though we almost ended up buying nothing. That is: I bought 2 outdoor jackets for next to nothing and left them in the car for the rest of the paddling tour, because I wasn’t concentrating properly.

The next day we could finally cross the peaceful lake Mossø – it had apparently lost all the will to try to kill us that was on such a magnificent display the day before. I felt victorious, for no reason at all, and we entered the Gudenå system.

In this system of lakes, connected by the river Gudenå we spent another five days, which were even better than we had expected them to be, though our last long ride was full of rain, cold clouds, damp cows on moisty pastures and – singing, yelling and talking Danish youngsters at our destination. They had moved to our last campsite by cars and joined another group or two. That evening, Denmark won the soccer match against Peru. And we slept like two logs.

“We shall return,” he says a few days after the tour. “We will pack some ear plugs and avoid the high season and campsites in bigger places, but we will return. The river is magnificent.”

It is.

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I have done it.

So I went to my client’s event and loved it. Every minute of it.

But the way there …

It all started at home, of course.

My two-weeks-ago-carefully-put-together outfit fell out due to one fact I had ignored when doing the sartorial maths. Luckily, I conjured the next outfit on the spot, as you would, and I still had enough time to check it out. Unluckily, the second outfit wasn’t good enough, either. I did tell you I had nothing to wear?!?!

Like in a fairy tale, it was the third outfit, born out of necessity (aka 5 minutes to go) that was good enough and made me feel well, so off I went.

Only to find myself in an old train half an hour later, wondering whether the 3 guys next to me were going to drink all that beer and what the strap of my brand new bag was doing down there. They didn’t, they were rather nice while sipping their beer, and the strap had gotten somehow detached from the bag – without my help.That something like this should happen!

So now what? What now so? Now what so?

Ahhh, my brain cell went, you have some safety pins in your kaputted bag – use them. So I did. The bag lasted till I made the first few steps in the small town I had been headed to.

Do you know Karstadt? It’s one of those warehouses that are going to be abolished because we all shop cheap things online these days (like bags). Anyway, there was a Karstadt near the venue I was headed for and they sold me a most lovely bag within minutes, made all the sympathetic noises while I told them about my stupid old bag, didn’t wince when I used their surfaces to empty the old bag and fill the new one and wished me a nice evening.

I threw away the old bag, what else and had myself a nice evening.


What have I done?

For a reason I cannot put my finger on, I said Yes. Yes, I can.

Attend a Christmas party of a client’s. Next month.

Now I can’t believe I actually said yes.

The thing is, I am very happy in my moosing cave and don’t really want to leave it for other people. On the other hand, I really want to get to know the people I am in daily e-mail contact with. It cannot hurt.

So before an endless inner war broke out, I said yes.

Now I have nothing to wear.

And what am I going to talk about – work?

And what about my hair?

And how do I get there?

How do I get home?

Why did I say yes?!?

😆

😥


Again …

‘Common, move closer, buddy!’

Taking his time to (maybe or maybe not) do my bidding and silently observing with one rolling eye how I go on pouring hot coffee all over my padded bra and shirt for a terribly long time while concentrating on my camera 

my buddy finally comes closer.

He’s a sight well worth the coffee stench for the rest of the afternoon. Continue reading


Yeah … Maybe I did.

Buy a frying pan, larger than life:

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What, don’t you have a saying “eyes bigger than the stomach” in your neck of the woods?


Cause We Are The Champion.

  • Oh, hi Claire, fancy meeting you here, long see no time 🙂 ! … How- Are you OK? You look-
  • I see ̶ oh, you poor girl! I know, I know, queasiness is nothing to be careless about. Wanna sit down? Should I fetch you something? Wanna go out for a while? Should I call-
  • Right. I hope you are genetically alone here though 😀 ……………………………………………………………………………..
    You know? Queasiness? Babies? Big tummy? OK, not the best joke in the world, I guess. So … how’s life?!?!? Last time we talked you told me you were going to finish your dissertation on the nocturnal behavior of the European Cervidae? Did you get to do some fieldwork? Was it exciting? It must have been. Do I need to address my yearly Christmas cards to a Doctor Fraser already?!?
  • Oh, I see. Well … at least you tried. After all, at the end of the night, it’s all a valid and useful learning process, surely everyone knows that. I’m sure everything’s gonna be alright, eventually. Just watch for the tunnel at the end of the light and stuff, right? 🙂 … And how’s Jamie the Gorgeous these days?!? Haven’t seen him for a while, either-
  • Ouch. Mmmm. Sounds bad. That must have hurt. Men! They never learn! I think there’s a book on this modern phenomenon, something about eating and having cakes coinstantaneously and even Instagramming them, those bastards ̶ I forget the title, though, and I haven’t read it so who knows whether it’s of any use. Did you-
  • OK … OK. So … how do you like it here?
  • Yes, yes. True … True. Nice … walls, aren’t they? At least the music’s not too loud and one can have a decent conversation.
  • Oh, nothing special. Books mostly. By the way, have you read Thinking In Numbers?!?! Seems like a great book to me, at least the maths part. This guy sure knows how to-
  • I see. Yeah, I work a lot, too. Haven’t been to a party for ages. Must be the age, actually-
  • No problem at all! I couldn’t have attended your B-day party anyway, I was in Berlin, attending a conference on communication-
  • Organic orange juice. Great taste, apparently fair trade, should I fetch you one, too? Some vitamins should-
  • I see … Sounds exciting.
  • Well, no, I haven’t. It is 10 years old already and I still like to use it when I have to.
  • Next year. Probably a Samsung. But just because I want to surf the internet in the restroom, too, you know?!? No time to lose?!?
  • OK. See you. Have a nice evening! And say hi to Jamie should you- Oh.

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The Exam Results Are In …

… and all I got was

Continue reading


Let me count the ways

You know the story about a frog in a pot with water that is being heated up gradually? How the poor animal cannot feel it’s boiling, according to the famous legend?

True or not, I think the story describes some things in life quite well.

Like … getting old?

rusty

I’m a busy girl and so I haven’t noticed some of the less obvious signs telling me that, yes, I am 40 already. There’s cellulite and wrinkles and an occasional gray hair and my muscles are as flabby as always (despite working out), but these are the signs we all tend to check from time to time. I also tend to forget them. In front of a mirror is not my favourite place to dally, it has never been. Which explains some of my sartorial choices and the inability to distinguish between cheveux and chevaux to this day, really 😈

But what about other things? Any other signs I am in fact getting old and have been all this time, inevitably? Well, yes:

– After the last Paris trip I have sworn to myself never to book the cheapest hotel possible. Ever. It’s not romantic and after having tried to visit as many museums as possible, you need a good sleep which won’t be interrupted by people hitting each other and yelling.

– Our bed has become the … lap of luxury: only organic cotton is ever allowed and this year, we decided to skip Xmas presents to buy new blankets. Filled with camel hair. Yes. The stuff camels shed when the weather turns from freezing to warm is the best ever to cover your tired, old body with at night.

– I have never owned so many cardigans as I do now. I think I am officially in love with the concept: you can zip/button up the thing or not, you can take it off when it’s too hot and put it in a small bag you’ve sewn for that purpose (to carry tiny cashmere cardigans in a handbag) and you can feel well warmed up by your ersatz blanket whenever the need arises. Which happens more often, as you grow- exactly. 🙂 Old.

– It seems my collection of arm warmers (a pair of yak ones only, right now) will see the same fate: I adore all that knitted stuff covering a half of my hands. And I have always hated sleeves that are too short – meaning just about reaching my wrists – even as a young person. Believe me, at my height and clothes size, sleeves are usually dimensioned to offend.

– I have never in my life spent so much time cleaning as recently. Mind you, ours is still not the cleanest place because we both work too much and sleep too long to keep everything tidy and spotless, but it’s better now than it has ever been. Plus, I love cleaning, I always have. I wonder what’s to become of this … 😯

– I tend to buy clothes made of organic or recycled materials, mostly they are simple basics I can combine to get exciting styles 🙂

– Last week I said to my husband I am going to spend my retirement working out, making out, reading and sewing new things from old ones. 😳

– I don’t seem to remember the third meaning of the word “party”: there’s “political party” and there’s “contract party” and then there’s … errr … ? 😈

dino


Ne tega delat. Bljek.

Nasmeh mu izgine z obraza, previdno me pogleda in potem vseeno vpraša “Kaj pa je to?”

“Oh, paradižnikova omaka z rdečo peso in rdečim zeljem,” sem srečna. “Mogoče najprej poskusiš in če ti ni všeč, vzameš kaj drugega?”

Zdaj tudi jaz previdno gledam. Njegov obraz, lonec, njegov obraz, lonec …

“Ne, ne.” je vljuden in odločen, pravi moški pač: “Bo že.” 

Torej mu na krompir nabašem svojo na novo izumljeno omako, temno rdečo, s koščki rdečega zelja barve žameta, za vsak slučaj pa sebi odmerim večji delež.

Omaka je grozna. Tako grozna je, da je niti moja najljubša zelenjava, namreč kuhan krompir, ne more rešiti. Solim, dodajam sir, razmišljam, a bi pojedla do konca ali raje ne bi. Nič ga ne vprašam, kako kaj in te stvari.

Kmalu sta krožnika prazna. “Boš preživel?”

“Bom. Pod enim pogojem.”

“Da tega ne skuham nikoli več.”

Oddahne si: “Tako je.”

Postane me strah. Z zelenjavo sem bila namreč eksperimentirala že prejšnji dan, in sicer sem delala zelenjavni čips. Iz rdeče pese, kodrastega ohrovta, kolerabe in zelene. Ker pa sem vso to kulinariko zganjala med delovnim časom, se mi je vmes malce mudilo, zato pač nisem vsakega lističa zelenjave posebej položila na papir v pekaču, temveč so se rahlo prekrivali. Rezultat? Kup mokrih slanih krp za pomivanje z okusom zelenjave. Kolerabo sem vrgla v smeti, ker sem se še skoraj pravi čas spomnila, da sem dragemu svečano obljubila, da kolerabe NIKOLI VEČ ne bom kupila, kaj šele kuhala. Ostale vlažne krpice sem dala v hladilnik, do dneva, ko bom vedela, kaj z njimi.

Torej danes. Medtem ko sem kuhala bodočo obupno paradižnikovo omako (dragi moji, paradižnikovo omako totalno pokvarite tako, da ji dodate rezine rdečega zelja, kocke rdeče pese in zelene iz zamrzovalnika, da jo pozabite dovolj začiniti ali vsaj dodati smetano, pa še prehitro postrežete z njo, ker niste vedeli, da se rdeča pesa mora dlje kuhati), sem zelenjavne čipsove krpice od včeraj zmešala z lončkom ricotte, 2 jajcema, sezamom, mletimi mandlji in malce polnozrnate moke. Kar bo, pa bo. Zmes je bila roza barve, saj je rdeča pesa zelo prepričljivega značaja. Briga me: roza maso sem zakamuflirala s sončničnimi semeni in jo 30 minut pekla na 175 stopinjah.

“Res ne bom nikoli več,” mu obljubim, “hočeš malce zelenjavne pite?”

“A to so tiste krpice od včeraj? Raje ne.”

Tudi mene je strah. Kaj neki sem spet ustvarila?

Ugriznem in glej ga zlomka: zadeva je slučajno odlična. Oddahnem si.

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A Blast From The Past

“Can I somehow help you?”

“Yyyyes?” I blush. “I’d like a photo of my dragon earring. You know, for later. So that when I am 80, I’ll find this photo and say to myself ‘Gee, I used to wear a dragon ear cuff when I was 40. Blimey.”

“Well yeah, that’s a good idea. Right then … here you go.” He smiles kindly and I sort of blush again. I am quite sure I am not supposed to talk like that, but there you go. Gosh.

uhan

(7 days to go)