Monday, April 30, 2012

Sahara Spring.


That’s just a wee bit past my “cut-off” in terms of when I’m willing to put on the air conditioning.   However,  there’s enough of a breeze that it’s not to the point yet where it’s unpleasant.

Of course,  that breeze means no sitting out under the umbrella,  since I’d rather not watch it catapult over the edge of the balcony.


Travelling Companion is working from home today.  This is mostly since there’s nary a soul hanging around her office,  and as long as our internet works (fingers crossed) she can look at files to her heart’s content, and has only to concern herself with a couple conference calls,  one of which she is on as we speak.   Er,  type.   Er,  keyboard.  I’m sitting out on the terrace,  since listening to only one part of a conversation can be a little distracting.  My pea brain can’t handle too much stimulus.

Tomorrow is May 1st.  Labour Day.  I’d put in a link,  but the stupid Wiki article then takes you to Labor Day,  which is of course,  the American Labor Day.  Some sort of internet imperialism.  Don’t get me started.

The reports are that this unseasonably warm weather is coming up from the Sahara Desert.  There’s also the possibility that we might get some of the Sahara dust as well.  That should be interesting.  Does anyone ever get any dust blown up from the Mojave Desert?  No? I didn’t think so.


Other than that,  there’s not too danged much going on today.  Had to jaunt off to the post office this afternoon,  which I never do,  since Mariahilferstrasse is an absolute zoo.  I try not to go out there anytime after about 2:00 p.m.   Now of course,  since they’ve further congested the one side with the scaffolding,  it’s even worse.   Slow walkers slurping their ice cream cones need to have their own lane.  Just a suggestion.

Didn’t take the camera (of course!)  since I was more concerned with getting to the post office before the place closed.  I have no idea when they close in the afternoon,  since I always try to do that sort of deed first thing in the morning.   Naturally there was a line-up.  I swear it takes me all of about 30 seconds to post a letter,  so it’s always a mystery to me just what the hell it is that takes some people so friggin’ long to do whatever they do.   There was one lady buying stamps.   Like, to collect.  She was taking her time trying to decide.  This is probably a sound reason for frowning on carrying firearms here.  Don’t let me give you the wrong impression.   They’re just thoughts.

Besides,  people still collect stamps?  Are you kidding me?  What on earth for?  Put your money in a GIC.  If I were going to collect anything and put it in a book so that I could later leaf through and look at it,  it would be labels from bottles of wine I had consumed.  Even coasters from different pubs.  But stamps?  I guess I’m just dim,  since I don’t quite understand.


In other “news”,  we’re a little giddy of late since we’ve heard that Ljuba is coming for a visit.  This is ‘awesome recipe’ Ljuba.  Once of T.C.’s sisters.  Coming all the way from Vancouver.   No mean feat either.  Has a layover in Heathrow.   Such dedication.   There are others in the wings working on their plans,  but no flights have been booked yet.

Please stand by.






This just in.  Had to go out briefly on a quest.  This is what the hoards look like…



Now you know why I’d rather just stay home in the afternoon.

Oh,  and of course,  just as I’m about to come back in our front door,  there’s yet another example of rampant stupidity. 


Note broken glass.

I do seem to have quite the collection of people smacking into each other.  Felt kinda bad for the guy with the brand new SUV.  Too bad the ‘this is it’ dummy has some issues visualising distances.   Like how far it is to the vehicle in front. 


Gotta go.


Time to rustle up some grub. 


Thanks for stopping in.

1 comment:

  1. Bob, try this link:


Well, I've been getting too many spam comments showing up. Just a drag, so we'll go another route and hope that helps. So, we won't be hearing anything more from Mr. Nony Moose.
I guess I'll just have to do without that Gucci purse.