Tim’s Tiny Home Project Notes

tiny home on the lake

I’ve been bitten by the tiny Euro lifestyle here in Germany.  Having the first hand view of German’s commitment to environmental protection while maintaining industrial level Chinese production capacity is a once in a lifetime experience. If you’re buying a German produced good today there’s a huge likelihood that a significant part of the energy required to build it came from the wind or the sun!

I’ve definitely caught the ‘umwelt’ bug, which coincidentally overlaps with my tree hugging liberal proclivities.   Don’t even get me started on the ‘latte drinking’ part of the liberal equation!  There’s too many of my social media posts out there for me to deny that, but I pity the fool who thinks they’ll ever find a picture of me (or my shadow) within sight of a Volvo, or a soccer match.   I may be a caricature but I’m not a stereotype!
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TimLife Comedy-Horror Stories

Long Road to Mow

Given the combination of cool yet sunny weather early in the day now, I usually do my stable maintenance sometime before noon. Calling it stable maintenance makes it sound more impressive that just saying I get up early to mow the grass and shovel up animal dung at the barn. Owing to the fact the sun rises here at five a.m. in the summer here, I am usually up very early, and after killing a couple hours of coffee and web surfing, I make use of these cool mornings to mow and whack weeds at the horse stables, before the hell fire heat of the day sets in.

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Spring Housecleaning

Dead of Winter

Since my often wonky Internet connection seems to be momentarily solid, having no doubt worn itself ragged from jumping up and down like a midget on a Dutch hooker the duration of this morning, I shall attempt a quick but meaty post on current affairs.  I know the title seems a bit inappropriate for this time of year, but with the winter two thirds over and STILL not a speck of snow (or a good hard freeze) here in my German neighborhood, it seems like spring is ready to break out any day now.  I’ve been a bit less active on my blog lately, owing to the distractions and perturbations of life, but still post willy-nilly across many social platforms and websites, even if I don’t post full-on blog entries with as much regularity as I would otherwise be compelled.  Figured I’d hit my main talking points in one fell swoop here.   First the big three.

Sex

I am still for it, even though my pom-poms are dangling a bit lower than your average hip-hopper’s pants. My wife is also struggling with health issues that make my rooting for sex a more prominent feature of the day than actually having any, but going out to dinner and talking dirty to each other before coming home and passing out in bed was already a prominent feature in our post-50 bag of sex tricks, so it’s not as huge an issue as if we were in our more succulent youth.

That said, I don’t think women need help from Republicans in figuring out their end of the deal, so why the hell won’t these rightwing politicos keep their hands off women’s vaginas?  I like handling a vagina as much as the next guy, but I know I’m only renting it and am not allowed to go nailing pictures all over the walls and trying to install new plumbing fixtures, let alone make up new rules on the maintenance thereof.   Ferchrissakes.

Politics

Politics.  Pardon Snowden and build a statue of him next to the Washington Monument.  Put some bankers in jail from the space being freed by not arresting pot smokers.  Quit arresting pot smokers.  Quit pretending that legalized pot is the end of the world as we know it, particularly you highly paid TV perps with all the false pearl clutching (you know who they are). Put some of those torturers from the past Bush administration in jail before you go all half-cocked about other countries and their “international” obligations to law and justice.  Give us all a fucking break.

Religion

A wish fulfillment fantasy for nervous mortals.  Still as useless as tits on a pumpkin.  In dwindling demand, but still a huge threat to national and international stability due to their reckless reliance on poppycock in their search for deeper meanings in shallow water.

Life

Having a few teeth pulled this week is nothing compared to what Rita is dealing with. My wife is hanging onto life tenaciously, even as she struggles to deal with her terminal cancer.  It’s  already been a bit over a year since she abandoned her unsuccessful treatment regime at a renowned German lung clinic, walking away from an opportunity to turn herself into a long-term medical experiment for a bunch of curious doctors.  Her local doctors are now pushing us to make accommodations at a full blown palliative care facility.  That is an unlikely event in any case, since my wife would sooner do herself in at one fell swoop, than linger in such a pitiful state for weeks/months.  She is still not ambulatory.  She still manages to teach English classes and keep our business running, but her pain is becoming increasingly difficult to manage and the prescriptive solutions more debilitating.  It’s a heartbreaking and worrisome thing to have to witness.  Right now we’re hoping she’ll be physically able to make our 25th wedding anniversary at the end of the month.  Dinner in Paris.

Living

We’re still getting along as near “normal” as we can under the circumstances.  My wife continues to worry more about my future success without her, than she does with the fact that she has bigger issues of her own right now.  I don’t want her to worry about me.  Providence has seen fit to bless me in ways that most men only dream about.  I have no idea why the dice of the universe haven’t crapped me out already, but I’m optimistic on my future even as I attempt to squelch the tears from considering the present situation with my wife.

Blogging

I’ll continue to blog, tweet, post pix, just as I always have.  The subjects will continue to be as diverse as my interests.  I’m still in love with Spotify and thankful to be able to reach out and access so much music.  My wife and I both engage in a fair amount of musical therapy made more pleasant by their vast catalog of music and our deep (read: old people) memories of songs from out past.  I pop in-check in on Yelp every now and then.  I’ll occasional throw a comment on my GetGlue TV social app when viewing a show I like, but never in real-time, since my TV and time is shifted by half a globe from the US.  I’ve been tossing up a few odd AudioBoos lately.  Also trying to spread my photos across several apps.  My main pro Flickr account, Instagram and Facebook get the biggest share of my pics.  Look forward to more photo blogging fun since I acquired my Sony DSC-QX10 for Xmas.  I’ll be trying to organize and post a lot of pics locked on my computer at present and adding new stuff along the way as well.  A fairly comprehensive map to my social media is on my Social page here at this blog for those who are interested.

Enjoy.

Quick Trip to the Dump

HoneyDoMy honey do list for today included runs to the grocery store, the waste management (recycling) center, and the vacuuming of massive amounts of dog hair out of the Mercedes. It’s not that we let it collect for any long period of time, it’s just that we’re constantly taking Bandit and Lizzy with us everywhere we go.  They both shed fine, white hair faster than a platoon of boot camp barbers. It wafts off them like cumulus clouds, and as the rays of sunlight intersect with the aerosolized pet dander I imagine the car looks like a rolling snow globe populated with two spoiled dogs nuzzling up to the glass.  But I digress.

Three Bags of Garbage and some Glass Bottles

I had intended to take some pictures at the recycling center today just to document the degree of sorting and sophistication that is involved in going to “the dump” in Germany. I didn’t get any pics because some gruff looking foreigner walked up to me and started chatting away in German like I was one of the local boys.  He’s spewing German out like a well oiled German machine gun.  I’m busy comparing the words I’m hearing him say against the list of 53 German words I’ve familiarized myself with (in the several years I’ve been here).  I’m wondering  what the hell the guy is talking about while simultaneously nervous I might have inadvertently violated some arcane German trash sorting rule or possibly breeched some other local custom.

Sorting it Out

He didn’t look like he worked at the recycling center, but it’s not like they’d dress up for work so I couldn’t be sure. I had already paid my five euro drop off fee so I knew that covered.  Was my car parked at the wrong angle in the drop zone?  The last thing I wanted was an international incident.  I told the fellow, in my own perfect dialect of midwestern and Mississippi slanglished German, that I don’t know any German.  He keeps on talking. How stupid can he be?

My ability to read these types of situations and pick out the meaning of the conversation is approximately equal to that of Siri 1.0.  The first word I noticed was verkauf, which is to sell, but bauern was also in the mix and that means farmer.  I’m working my mind thru “selling” and “farmer’ as I stand at the back of the Mercedes digging through the trunk for errant refuse.  I try, again in vain, to verbally expound on my ignorance of German.

I’m sensitive to the fact that this guy probably doesn’t even understand that I don’t understand.  I am simultaneously amazed that he is totally unable to translate my facial expressions that are screaming out in international angst  “I haven’t a clue in creation what it is you’re slobbering on about!??!”.  I may have to go back and take remedial body language at the tantric center over in Holland.

Breakthough

As I stood there mulling over farmer and selling, I heard him ask “Benzine oder Diesel?”  Like any good Clue player can tell you, it takes a very small set of data points to conclude that it was Uncle Mustard with the lead pipe in the study. I was pretty good at Clue.

It finally hit me as I watched this guys eyes sparkle as he hungrily scouted my Mercedes that he was interested in buying it from me.  This guy thought I was an old farmer that might possibly want to sell him my immaculately cared for, but aging Mercedes Sedan D’Elegance.  I don’t hold it against the guy, because on any given day, what with my advanced aging and decrepitude, I probably look like I could keel over any minute. He must have felt like it might be his best/only chance of scoring such a cherry ride.  I gently rebuffed his confused offer and exited stage left.  Another potentially ugly international disaster averted.

The Rest of Saturday in Paradise

Horsing Around

Later today, I’ll be hanging at the international equestrian extravaganza going on down at the stables. It’s the bee’s knees, specially if the b’s you’re interested in are  Bier, Brot und Brötchen. I’d expect at least one Instagram picture of a German barmaid filling my glass will emanate from that meta data location in the immediate future.  FWIW, I’m traveling the rest of the day via Iron Donkey, my Tomos moped.

Enjoy.

Silent Scream

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Silent Scream