It’s never been about the travelling.

Which is a round about way of saying,  we could have seen much more of Salzburg,  but chose not to.   I did have this idea that we might go up on the funicular,  but Travelling Companion can only go so far,  and then has to find a place to sit.  To be honest,  I’m not quite sure how she manages to go as far as she does,  since the pain from her knees is constant.    But hey,  women and their threshold for pain is something that most men can’t comprehend.  I’m sure I’ll get comments about that one.

The trip to Salzburg was really a shopping excursion combined with a “weekend getaway”.   Gawd that’s a corny term,  but that’s what it was.

Besides,  two out of three ain’t bad.  We did the funiculars in both Prague and Ljubljana.   We’ll have to settle for that.

 

Not much happening in these parts.  T.C. had to head out first thing again on Monday for parts north.   Seems some “Grandes Fromages” were coming in on the corporate jet and were getting a bit of a tour.  There again,  her knees were killing her after a couple hours,  but she never lets on.   So she was stuck in a hotel once again Monday night.  I got to stay home.  Yay me.

Anyhoodle,  Monday morning as we were making our little journey down in the lift,  I happened to notice that she was missing a button on her jacket. 

Now,  let me just say this about that.   Over the last,  oh I don’t know,  twenty years of so,  T.C. has probably spent enough on clothes to pay off the national debt of at least one small country.  Possibly two.   And I’m OK with that.  This kind of thing sort of comes with the territory.  

There used to be a time when I’d just about pass out when she would tell me how much she had spent,  but then I learned not to ask,  and she learned not to tell.  And really,  it used to take me a couple years as a Caretaker to earn what she’d get as a bonus so,  I’m not really complaining here.  It’s all relative.

The thing is,  when you spend that much on a jacket say,  shouldn’t the buttons stay on?   Why then do they provide you with a spare?  Hm?   Bit of a “catch-22” there I’d say.  What’s so hard about sewing on a button in such a way that the thread doesn’t start to unravel?

*Grumble*

I mean,  if *I* can do it?  Please.

 

So,  my “big job” for today,  was to somehow try and find the spare,  and sew that sucker on.  

Damned if I didn’t do it!

 

It was actually in there.   Honest!

The trick is, when you first acquire said expensive jacket,  to take the stupid extra button,  and put it in with the extra buttons.   Oh,  and then of course make sure you include the cookie tin with all the extra buttons in the shipment to a foreign country.  That part is just as critical. 

I think I’d be hard pressed to try and explain to our daughter back home just where to find the extra buttons.  I’d sooner go to the fabric shop and look for a set of similar buttons.   But have you ever done that?  I have,  and I don’t exactly recommend it.   Sometimes those fabric shop ladies are just dim.

Of course,  now that there’s no more spares,  it’s a good idea to take off the first two and sew them back on again.  Oh ya baby.  Fun stuff. 

You may roll your eyes at this point.  It’s OK.

The other “big job”,  was to either take said suit to the cleaners,  or to wash it if that were at all possible.  Never hurts to buy stuff that can in fact be put into a washing machine.  Just have to pick the correct setting if, in fact there is one. 

 

Yup,  that would be it.   It’s in German.  Trust me.

Isn’t this exciting stuff?   I can barely stay in my seat.

Going to the cleaners over here is,  I’m sure,  where that expression,  “getting taken to the cleaners” came from.  A pair of trousers is like,  eight Euros.  I’m not kidding.  So a jacket and pants?  Twenty, maybe?  I’m sure I’ll never know.

 

Speaking of awesome.  What,  you don’t think my buttons sewing skills are awesome?

 

I saw this trailer on the way back home this morning.  Had to take a picture.

 

I swear I’ve seen some of the best looking trailers EVER,  in Europe.  Seriously.  There was a place up in the Netherlands,  where they had a showroom of utility trailers.  I wandered around that place for a while with my mouth open.    I’ve been really tempted to buy a nice trailer and ship it home.  Of course,  at that price point,  I could probably have a trailer custom built,  and then I’d also know for sure that the hitch would fit a North American ball.  See, there’s the sneaky part.    European hitch balls are 50 mm.  That’s an ISO standard.   Big whoop.  A two inch ball in North America is really 50.8 mm.  So…the bottom line?  Forget it.   I’d have to change the entire tongue. 

 

Such “first world problems”!    At least I’m not the owner of this thing.

 

My butt puckers ever so slightly when I see something like this.  And I don’t even ride.  But a bike on its side is just WRONG.   That’s all I got.

 

I’ve been looking at some of the pictures of Hurricane Sandi and the havoc that she has wrought.  *phew* Happy to be here in boring old Vienna.  Thank you. 

Good luck to all those affected.

 

Keep your powder dry,  and thanks for looking in.

 

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