Food for Spring

After a long time, another food post!

With the onset of spring, I usually have an increased craving of fresh (i.e. uncooked) foods such as salads and raw vegetables. This week, I had several such meals for both my lunch break and in the evenings. Here are just two of them, when I remembered to take pictures:

This salad consisted of half a bag of a ready-to-eat mix of leafy stuff such as lamb's lettuce, radicchio and frisee lettuce, one whole avocado and half a red, green and yellow pepper each (the other halves I had eaten the day before). Yellow peppers are my favourites - I love eating them just like that, without any addion, as I did here and many times since. The salad was dressed with a simple vinaigrette, the recipe for which I posted here. For this particular salad, I went a bit easier on the olive oil, since the avocado already contains quite a lot of fat without adding extra oil.

Some weeks ago, I had come down with a stomach bug which made me get on rather too intimate terms with my toilet. Thankfully, it was over after two days, but for those two days, nothing I ate would stay with me, and I was so glad for the working-from-home arrangement - and even more glad for my parents being so close! They came here both days, bringing coke (normally, I drink just tap water all day) and salted pretzels and rusk for my poor tummy, and generally making sure I had everything I needed.

The rusk I never touched until this week, when I turned it into a nice lunch for me, along with half a cucumber (another left-over from one of the salads I had during the week) and the goat cheese I like very much and regularly get from the supermarket:

So, in culinary terms as well as where the weather was concerned, this week was very much spring!

Read in 2012 - 4: Of Human Bondage

Again, I am amazed at how long it takes me these days to finish a book; there used to be times when I devoured several books in one single weekend (if it was rainy and cold, that is), but now, there always seems to be so much else that I want to do, see, read (in my weekly paper or elsewhere), listen to, and so many places I want to go to and people I want to meet, that it took me more than a month to finish my latest read, kindly lent to me by my sister: "Of Human Bondage" by W. Somerset Maugham.

My reading is not ambitious at all, I have never aimed for the intellectual, and although I was really trained as a Librarian in my long-ago youth and loved working at the library, you'd be surprised at the number of classics that are considered to be "must-reads" in the world of literature that I have NOT read. But every now and then, I come across one, and this can certainly be said about "Of Human Bondage".

It was a book I enjoyed very much and can recommend to anyone. The story is said to be semi-autobiographical, and Mr. Maugham wrote it in two parts; he did a first draft when he was in his early 20s (which was in the late 1800s-early 1900s), but only took the manuscript up again and turned it into the masterpiece we know now 15 years later, with the first edition having been published in 1915.

Philip Carey is the main character, and it is his life we follow from when he is a boy of about 9 years until he is almost 30. There are many tragic events in Philip's life, starting with the early death of both his parents, events he can not control, while at other times, he takes decisions the reader wants to shout at him for, shake him and tell him, 'don't do that!', but such is life, isn't it? People do not always act the way they should, and it is always easier to see it from an outsider's perspective as when you are in the middle of things yourself.

Philip is essentially a very good person with a kind heart, and he does not judge others - he largely accepts them the way they are, and still helps them over and over again, even though they have hurt him greatly and actually do not deserve his friendship and support. He can also be nasty and come across as arrogant if he wants to, and in that, once again, he is very much like a real person. His life does not follow the strict moral codex of his time, and yet he is maybe, in some ways, a better person than those of his contemporaries who think of themselves as good Christians. For that, too, one can't help but like him.

What really makes this book such an excellent read is the language used. Every now and then, I had to look up a word I didn't know, and that does not happen very often, probably because I do not frequently read books written in that era.

Parts of the book reminded me of Emile Zola's "The Ladies' Paradise", which I read a few years ago (in German, I'm afraid; my French would never suffice to read the original "Au Bonheur des Dames".)

There is such a lot in it I would like to share with you, but instead of making this an endless post, let me just quote a few bits that I found particularly impressive, for one reason or other:

In his late teens, Philip spends a year in Germany, studying in Heidelberg. The owner of the boarding house has strong opinions about literature and the theatre:

It was the period in Germany of Goethe's highest fame. ... he had been adopted as the national poet, and seemed since the war of seventy to be one of the most significant glories of national unity. ... Professor Erlin, who hated the Prussians, gave his enthusiastic admiration to Goethe because his works, Olympian and sedate, offered the only refuge for a sane mind against the onslaughts of the present generation.

The Professor calls Henrik Ibsen's "A Doll's House" obscene nonsense and "nothing but filth", and would rather have his daughters lying dead at his feet than see them listening to the garbage of that shameless fellow. Of Richard Wagner, he speaks with good-humoured laughter, calling him a charlatan with something for the comic spirit to recjoice in. He says:

"I tell you young people that before the nineteenth century is out Wagner will be as dead as mutton. Wagner! I would give all his works for one opera by Donizetti."

Well, Wagner remains very popular (and not just in Germany, I believe), although he has never been quite my thing; when it comes to the opera, Verdi is and will always be The Master for me.

Eventually, Philip wants to end his time in Heidelberg:

"You know, I don't think I can stay here much longer. I want to get to London so that I can really begin. I want to have experiences, I'm so tired of preparing for life: I want to live it now."

Just like in the early chapters when Philip is still a child, the way he feels and thinks is shown convincingly real as that of a child or, as in this instant, as a teenager eager to embark on life as an adult. I do remember that, in my teens, I had that feeling of a long wait, too; I didn't really know what I was actually waiting for, but I suppose it was "life".

After a short stint in London, Philip takes up studying art in Paris. He learns a lot there; among other things, he finds out that he will never be a brilliant artist:

He painted with the brain, and he could not help knowing that the only painting worth anything was done with the heart.

Back in London, he meets up with an old friend from his Heidelberg times, and they talk about beauty:

"In themselves there is nothing to choose between the Campanile of Giotto and a factory chimney. And then beautiful things grow rich with the emotion that they have aroused in succeeding generations. That is why old things are more beautiful than modern. The Ode to a Grecian Urn is more lovely now than when it was written, because for a hundred years lovers have read it and the sick at heart have taken comfort in its lines."

Rather late, Philip finally makes true friends; there is a family with nine children, and there, for the first time, he encounters a real family life, something he has - more or less unconsciously - been longing for ever since his boyhood. The head of the family is very much into anything Spanish, and tells him:

"You should read Spanish, it is a noble tongue. It has not the mellifluousness of Italian, but it has grandeur: it does not ripple like a brook in a garden, but it surges tumultuous like a mighty river in flood."

The friendly family provide an anchor of stability when Philip's life gets, once again, completely upset (by his own unfortunate decisions, I must say), and in the end it is that family who make it possible for him to change his life around once more, and the book ends with an optimistic outlook for him.

There is, as I said, a great deal more in this book than what I was able to convey here. It has been adapted into a film three times, but I have seen none of them and wonder if any of you have both read the book and seen one of the films, and how well adapted they are; please let me know if you can.

My next read will be non-fiction again.

I Had A Ball!

To be more correct, I went to one. The very first one in the nearly 44 years of my life, that is!

Possibly, one or two of my readers will remember me having mentioned before that RJ has been teaching me ballroom dancing for a while now; from October 15th onwards, there was another long break (4 months) of us not dancing due to many different reasons (having colds and conflicting schedules just being two of them), but we always intended to get back to the Sunday afternoon lessons in my living room and, when possible, the Saturday night dance parties at the nearby dance school.

We took up the lessons again in late January, and I was quite surprised to find how little I had forgotten. In February, we went twice to the Saturday night parties, and it was fun. RJ then invited me to go to a ball with him, and was I well chuffed by the invitation!

Something I needed, though, were better dancing shoes.

For a while now, I had not been very happy with the first pair of dancing shoes I had; when I had first started to practise, a friend of mine had sold me a pair of her dancing shoes for 20 Euros, and that was alright for the beginning. But dancing puts different requirements on a pair of shoes than walking or just standing about decoratively at some event or other; I needed a pair I was firm and stable in, not one that had the heel at the wrong point for me, making me wobbly even without moving.

So, last Friday after work, RJ and I went to the only shop in my town specialising in all things dance: shoes, gowns, the horrid spray-on tan the ladies often use for Latin competitions, false eyelashes, and the likes. We both found that there was really just one pair for each of us that suited us in looks as well as in stability and fit, and RJ gave me that pair as an early birthday present. When I tried them on, it felt as if they had been my shoes from the start; I did not wobble on the heel at all, the straps were the right length, the front was the right width - in short: they were perfect!

Saturday evening, we dressed in our ball outfits (sorry, I can only show you mine; RJ does not want his picture to be shown on here), I put make-up on (a ball certainly classifies as those rare, special occasions for which I do that), and off we went.

All things considered, we had a good night out. I hesitate to say "a great night", because it wasn't utterly great. It was special, and we enjoyed ourselves, but I had never been to a ball before, and it is a very different situation on the dance floor than what I am used to from the Saturday night parties. There, the dance floor is never so full that you can hardly find a spot to start from; at the ball, it was packed, plus it was all highly dynamic, a very fast moving whirl of people, which of course required RJ to lead me very carefully in order to avoid collisions, and I was simply overwhelmed by the extremely quick changes of direction sometimes, especially when it came to those dances (such as Samba and Fox Trot) where I have only just begun to learn the basic steps and am not so settled yet that I can do them without thinking.

Yes, it was quite the challenge, but we did beautifully with the Slow Waltz (also called English Waltz) and the Viennese Waltz, as well as with our Cha Cha Cha and Rumba. So, now I know much better where I want to improve a lot, and also where I already am quite presentable.

The band were alright... not brilliant, but they served the purpose as long as you were not listening to the singer too closely ;-) The show (they had a competition going on for 14 couples from various towns from all over south Germany) was interesting to watch, but it meant we had to sit down quite a lot in between dancing.

I liked looking at the dresses of the other ladies; some were really very beautiful, while others looked as if they couldn't care less and did not consider the ball a special occasion. Like I said, it was a good night out, but next time we go to a ball, we'll choose one without a show, and I want to practise lots more before that :-)

Business As Usual

Well, not quite. Business as usual for me means to be here in my living room which double-functions as my home office, on the phone to my customers and sending to and receiving emails from them.

Once a month, I travel 2 1/2 hours by train to the small town where the company I work for has their offices, and spend the day with my boss and colleagues there.

Every now and then, though, there are fairs or trade shows to go to; mainly as a visitor, as was the case in November when I went to Salzburg or twice this year when I spent a day in Stuttgart at the fair.

Twice a year, we are exhibitors and not just visitors, and it is the part of my work I enjoy most.

The week before last, my boss and I drove to Düsseldorf (that takes about 4 hours if all goes well) and spent three days as part of our manufacturer's team on their booth at the EuroCIS.

For me, it was the first time working a fair where I was not involved in all the preparations, in the unpacking and setting up of our hardware on the booth, in the daily cleaning and tidying up, in the catering, or in the packing up and loading the van for the drive back.

Instead, everything was organized by the manufacturer's marketing department, and all my boss and I had to do as co-exhibitors was to be there, talk to our customers (potential and existing ones), show and explain our hardware and enjoy the excellent cooking of the two chefs who, among many other staff, manned our booth which was one of the biggest, if not the biggest one, in the hall.

It was a good chance for me to meet a lot of people face to face, some of which I have not met before in spite of having been in close contact with them by telephone for almost 10 years, as well as some familiar faces I encounter every time I go somewhere work-related.

I have often wondered why I like working fairs and trade shows so much.

The most probable explanation, other than it being a welcome break-up of my daily and weekly routine, is summed up in three words: expect the unexpected.

The business world is, as we all know, full of unspoken regulations and rules. Not quite as strict as, say, 20 years ago, but still strict enough to provide a rather stable framework of foreseeable interactions and settings, such as the dress code and much of how people behave in this environment.

And yet, there is always the surprise element to be taken into account: you never really now in advance who is going to appear at your booth next, what country they are from, which language you are required to speak with them, what interests them, how good a contact you will be able to establish with them, and what is going to happen afterwards; will anything tangible result from their visit, or are they going to be part of the pool of never-to-be-heard-ofs which always make up a small part of the leads we take home?

Here are some pictures for you to give you an impression of what the week before last was like for me.

We were showing this device (a touch screen cash PC) in a flower bed with water running over it for all of the three days, to prove its water-tightness - quite important for those of our dealers whose customers are restaurant owners.

The kitchen counter on our booth.

This bit was mainly "our" corner of the booth. My mannequin "colleague" here served no real purpose other than stand in the way.

My room at the hotel was a suprise; it was much larger than I had expected, and the overall impression of the hotel was better than what I had thought after I had checked their website before our trip.

This was my outfit on the 2nd day. I wore long black trousers on the first day and an apricot coloured jumper with a black ribbon round the neck, and on the third day, the grey dress I showed you already in the January edition of my Fashion Calendar :-)

About Being Versatile

A while ago, Kay very justly received the Versatile Blogger Award and kindly listed me on her post as one of the bloggers she deems eligible for the award. Thank you, Kay, you know I was well chuffed! 

With one thing or the other, it just took me a while to get round to write my own post about it, and I know I will have problems in finding seven other blogs who deserve the award, simply because they have already all been nominated by you or by others :-) 

But the "rules" state I should say seven things about me, so here goes: 

1. I can lift my left eyebrow independently of the right one, but not the other way round. 

2. When I was a teenager, I was very much into basketball, both playing it myself and watching the matches of our local team. 

3. Once upon a time, I learnt to play the guitar (at age 12), and later, at age 16, the piano. 

4. I speak four languages, although one of them is a bit rusty. 

5. When I was little, I used to long for long, thick, curly hair in abundance, such as my sister and my mother had, and I found it very unfair that I should be the only one in the family looking so different from the others. 

6. Unlike many people I come across in my line of work, I really enjoy working at trade shows and fairs. 

7. I am a chocoholic. 

As for listing seven other blogs who should receive the award - like I said, this is difficult for me because most of those I would have named already have the award, and so it would just be going back and forth. But please do have a look at those kind people who are listed as my followers on here; almost all of them have their own blog, and all their blogs are versatile - there is not one of them who just stick to one topic (which would not make them versatile bloggers, would it?). 

So, please have your own pick out of the 60 or so blogs you can explore from here. 

By the way, my being versatile as a blogger is due to the simple fact that I like having things all neatly in one place; I know some of you divide what they post between photo blogs, recipe blogs, family blogs etc., but I find it much more comfortable to have everything here. To keep some form of order, I have introduced labels earlier this year, so if you want to see what recipes I have posted here, or find out more about my travels, all you have to do is click on the respective label just below my blog header, and read what's there. 

It is time now for me to start the last working day of this week - have a good weekend, all of you!

A Birthday Parcel

Not so long ago, I wrote about my mother-in-law here, and you were all very kind. I have spoken to her on the phone several times since, and will do so again today, because it is her birthday today.

It also happens to be the International Women's Day today, by the way.

Last week, I prepared and sent a birthday parcel to Mary.

She loves to read and keeps me supplied with reading material; I usually get a package with books from her for my birthday and another one for Christmas, and some of the book reviews you find on my blog are about those I got from her.

Therefore, I sent her a book as well; I read "Remarkable Creatures" in 2010 and was quite impressed by it, so I hope she will like it, too.

Green, especially sage, is her favourite colour; it matches her eyes, and because I know she will like it, I have included a green glass candle holder in the shape of a flower, complete with apple-scented candles.

The card I have written is hand-made; a piece of pale green fabric embroidered with tiny pearls and silver thread. It was made by a lady in Bangladesh and was part of the things we sold at the Christmas market at our charity booth, and I bought it with Mary in mind.

With the light from the camera, the pale green and lilac colours of the wrapping paper does not come out quite as nicely as it is in real life, but I think the overall look of the parcel is pretty and she will like it.

When I'll go over to see her at the end of April, there will be a pile of books waiting for me - she already told me she was not going to send me a package for my birthday this year, since I'll be in England a few weeks afterwards anyway.

Paul's funeral service was last week. It won't be the happiest of birthdays for Mary today, but I do hope she will still have a good day under the circumstances.

As for me, I am a bit on the tearful side today, after Pukky's death yesterday. It feels odd being without a cat, having my morning coffee without her on my lap, and looking at all her favourite resting and sleeping places in my flat, knowing she will never be there again. Today, I will try to focus on work, and on the many good things in my life - one of them being the ball on Saturday night RJ has invited me to.

Here is a glimpse of the dress and accessories I am going to wear - and I will even paint my finger nails, something I have not done in about ten years!

Worries & Relief (Partly...)

Who knows me in real life also knows that, most of the time, I am quite bouncy, cheerful and not easily brought down by events. And basically, this is still true today; I have such a lot to be happy about and plenty to look forward to.
But yesterday, I was rather subdued, and while some of my worries were partly relieved, another one has increased.

If you have been reading my blog for a while, you have come across my cat Pukky several times already. She is rather old and fragile - we don't know how old exactly, because she grew up on the streets, but the vet's estimate is somewhere around 15 years. Two of her fangs have been missing for 1 1/2 years now, and she has a known heart conditon and her thyroid is over-active, but until very recently, she still had a healthy appetite, following me around the house and especially into the kitchen every time I went in that direction.

For the past two to three weeks, she has lost so much weight, she is now at less than 2 kg (used to be 4!). Every little effort makes her lay down and rest instantly afterwards; she has stopped jumping up on the settee, her bed or my lap, which used to be her habit. When I lift her up and place her on my lap or the settee next to me, she just stays there. She purrs when I stroke her, and until yesterday, she purred loudly when I was getting her food ready (almost always with some medication mixed into it) and while she was eating.

Yesterday, we've been to the vet's. Her heart was examined, and things are not looking good. The antechamber is twice the size it should be, and there is danger of water accumulating so that she would literally drown internally. The right heart chamber is as weary as an old rubber band and has lost almost all of its elasticity, making it very difficult for the heart to pump blood at the rate it is needed. The weight loss is most likely due to both her thyroid and her heart problems, but to make sure we give her the right medication at the right dosage, a blood test is being made and I have to phone in today to learn the results.

When we were home, she was exhausted but wanted to eat, and in the evening, I sat on the settee with her for a long time, stroking her and listening to her purring.

This morning, when I came out of my bedroom, she did not get up from her favourite place (a door mat just in front of my bedroom door in the tiny hallway) and follow me into the kitchen; she just stayed there. I lifted her up and she did not purr. Usually, an egg, slightly beaten with a fork, is irresistible to her; I prepared one and set it in front of her on the kitchen floor. She did eat very little, and I had the impression she was doing this more out of politeness, doing me a favour. After only a few sips, she went to "her" room and retreated underneath the bed. She is there now, and I periodically check on her to see whether she is still breathing.

Pukky is not my first cat, and not the first one I lose to old age and illness, and mentally, I am of course always prepared for that - as is everyone who has been a pet owner for a long time. But seeing her so weak makes my heart ache, and I find it rather hard to concentrate on work today.

Also, on Monday night, I had upsetting news from a close friend of mine: he is in hospital after having suffered a particular form of stroke. This came totally out of the blue, and when I researched the medical term, the information I found sounded very scary.
So you can imagine my relief when, last night, I had better news: the prognosis is good, and he is expected to make a full recovery eventually.

My friends and family mean a lot to me (I am no exception there), and I do hope he'll be getting better every day.
As for Pukky, I'll have to wait and see.