Don’t get me wrong – I’m totally grateful for them but don’t particularly like being in them. I had hip replacement surgery last week. A week ago exactly. I took the photo an hour or so after the surgery. So, on the road to recovery and bionic superpowers. Hopefully. I expect nothing less.
Between now and running a 10K? Months. Hell, I can’t even do my multiple times daily stretches that I’ve been doing all my life. Like seriously for the past 50 odd years. Try making do without that. Hard core. Seriously. Muscle memory and all that? Yeah, my muscles do remember and are asking what the hell is going on? why aren’t you stretching? why aren’t you doing sit ups and pushups? Arabesques? Attitudes? (I know, it sounds like I’m totally badass and not lazy. I am lazy but there was a minimum of movements I’ve done for centuries. Okay. Decades.)
I’m not allowed to ride my bike (even though I do a bit) I’m not allowed to walk without those stupid crutches (mostly I don’t use them because they’re useless and topple over when I want to take something off the shelf at the supermarket) I’m not allowed to go swimming for another three weeks. Outrage. Annoying. Bored. The few exercises I’m allowed to do according to the physiotherapist and post op brochure are lame. Takes me five minutes and doesn’t tire me out at all.
Okay. Enough of the lamenting and complaining. I just hope my bionic superpowers kick in soon. I am a very impatient patient. Luckily, my best friend Dr. Mousen is keeping me on the rails. Hobble on.
No, I’m not a cat lady but I do have two. Cats. Bertie and Lucy. Occasionally three, when Millie is here on vacation (our family cat, who has taken up residence with my son and his girlfriend). So, it’s either two or three whisketeers. And lots of cans pile up.
I have found the most environmentally friendly way of storing before these smelly yucky containers wander into the recycling bin across the street: I save water and prevent the pipes from clogging with disgusting wet cat food remnants being washed down the drain.
Here’s how and what you need:
1. Thick paper bag (I save the ones my roast chicken comes bagged in)
2. Space in your fridge (I use the fruit vegetable drawer because I store my fruits at room temperature and my veggies are usually of the frozen kind)
Empty cans do no get rinsed anymore (uses way too much water) they wander directly into the paper bag (or whatever you choose to use that seals halfway decently), then into the fridge drawer. Voilà. No smells, no leakage. When the bag is full, I carry it across the street and empty the bag into the metal cans container.
It’s genius. Saves time (I hated rinsing those cans), saves water and dishwater soap, no smells (even the washed cans emitted a faint fishy odor).
2017 war so ein scheiss Jahr aber daraus viel gelernt. Sehr viel. Schwamm drüber wobei wenn ich der Schwamm bin, hab ich viel aufgesaugt und mir entsprechenden Maßnahmen gesetzt. Es war nicht alles scheisse natürlich denn im Ausklang des alten Jahres wenn alles geschlossen hat und ich mich es zu Hause gemütlich gemacht habe, habe ich einige neue Krimi Serien entdeckt. Glacé und La Mante: beide französische Serien beide auf Netflix und beide gruselig gut.
Mehr darüber morgen meine Lieben. Ein frohes Neues 2018 🎩
Whoever stops by here needs to speak both English and German because I write in both languages. Just saying that right off the bat to avoid confusion.
I’ve been away for a while i.e. have neglected kaufmannskrimis woefully. So really this is just a note to say: I am still alive and there will be posts.