What is up with that?!?

Maybe it’s a new service, or maybe the ladies think the cashiers can find the change faster. Did they forget their glasses? Just had their nails done?

Hmmmm…

This post was copy and pasted from my personal blog lapsus humanus.

This post was copy and pasted from my personal blog lapsus humanus.

Having lived both in Italy and America, I have grown accustomed to some bedding basics, like a top sheet and a bedcover to keep the dust off the pillows. Instead, in Austria (and UK from what I understand), it is very common to just have a covered comforter and a bottom sheet. They use the covered comforter, which is often made of cotton, as a top sheet and throw the whole thing in the wash when it’s time to change the bedding.

The simplicity of European bedding, certainly makes it easy to make the bed (just straighten the blanket) but is a big change for those who are used to sleeping in a tightly tucked bed!

American Bedding	Austrian Bedding
Basic Bedding: -Pillow & Case -Bottom Sheet -Top Sheet -Blanket -Comforter/Bedcover Extras: -The comforter could be put in a comforter cover, but this is not typical. -Pillow Shams for extra pillows are very common, though not commonly used. -Bed skirts are a very popular addition Notes: This is also true in Italy, with the exception of the bed skirt.	Basic Bedding: -Pillow & Case -Bottom Sheet -Comforter in Cover Extras: -An extra blanket is used for extra cold nights Notes: This is also true in the U.K.

So, how do you make your bed?!?!

This post was copy and pasted from my personal blog lapsus humanus.

One thing is for sure. If it’s red, and it has red spots on it, like these, DO NOT EAT THEM!

We found lots of Finferele, Portobello, Mazza Tamburo and about three fresh Porcini! Actually, I found the biggest porcino… right next to the road!

We breaded and fired the big ones last night, tonight… Risotto ai Funghi!

This post was copy and pasted from my personal blog lapsus humanus.

“Yes! We do. We also speak in Italian and Tortellino, here, also speaks in German – me a little bit.”

“Ahah…” she nodded her head and looked disnterested.

“Well,” she began. “Since you’re new here, you probably don’t know how things work in Austria. You are responsible to cut the branches that stick out onto the sidewalk. I’m having problems walking by.”

“Oh,”I was starting to realize the scope of the visit. Trying to turn things around, I introduced myself “… and this is Tortellino, he is 2.5 years old.” I looked at her two children smiling, waiting.

“Ahah…” she nodded her head and didn’t introduce herself or the children.

“Also, in the winter, you need to salt your sidewalk and shovel the snow. And, have you been separating your trash? Last month saw plastic bottle sticking out of your garbage can!”

“Excuse me,” I interrupted confused.

“Do you live in the neighborhood?”

“I live in the Yellow and White house, over there” she pointed to a block of three yellow and white houses.

“Oh, I’ll talk to my husband about cutting the branches. Thank you for your visit!”

“Ahah..” she nodded, grabbed her unidentified kids and left.

I was a little surprised by the visit.. given that we have a double-wide sidewalk and the longest branch that sticks out is at least one meter from the edge of the sidewalk.

Depressed about a neighbor that I’ve had for six months that never introduced herself and only visited me to complain, the next day, coming home from with Tortellino from an errand I found something on my doorstep. A bottle cage with six 2 liter bottles of home-made apple cider. No note, nothing.

Remorse? Friendly neighbor? I thought a while and then it hit me!

Two months ago, a lady rang my doorbell. She knew the former owner and was desperate to find a parking spot (we live very near the city center and across the street from a University building so parking at certain times of day can be tricky). I let her park in our driveway. Anyway, hubby wasn’t home so it wasn’t any problem for us! She was in a hurry but, now, I remember she promised to bring me a bottle or two of Apple cider as soon as the apple season started.

Every neighborhood has a jerk but, thankfully, they are usually outnumbered by the kind.

Oh, by the way, the youngish-middle aged woman rang my doorbell yesterday. When I saw who it was, I didn’t bother answering. She probably wanted to complain about something else.

This post was copy and pasted from my personal blog lapsus humanus.

It’s so hot here. It’s so humid. Oh, how I miss those cold summer San Francisco days with the the chilly nordic breeze gently blowing off the ocean onto the shore.

The cooler nights, the dry days.

During the summer you often see San Franciscans shrugging against the wind and artfully throwing silk scarves and wool sweaters around their pale, white necks to stay warm.

It’s so hot in Graz, that you can smell the sidewalks seweating. It’s the smell of street dust getting heavy and wet. Everyone looks exhausted and annoyed. The residents are slumped against the humidity, their clothes are uncomfortably stuck to their body with musty sweat.

“It’s tropical weather,” said one mommy to me trying to put sense to the unusual weather. It rains in the morning or during the night, then it’s hot, sunny and mostly cloudy the rest of the time. Then… it starts all over again the next day.

It’s so hot and humid, that we’ve got a petri tray of mold growing in our bedroom. We went away for four days to Italy and when we got back our bedroom wall had white fuzz and black things growing on it.

After a seven and a half hour drive (usually five and a half but we had to stop a few times because tortellino was suffering from molars popping in), I had to wipe down the walls with bleach before going to bed. It’s going to be really expensive to replace the roof, and we knew whe had to do it eventually, but the lady living here told us there are no problems, no leaks (other lies!)… how can you not see black and fuzzy mold on the walls? We’re going to contact the attoruney and hope for the best. Perhaps the woman, or her insurance can pay for part of the roof replacement.

But at the moment… I’m hot. I’m really hot. I can’t stand it and I feel like I’m suffocating on the damp air.

An 87-year-old man accidently drove the wrong way for seven kilometres (four miles) down an Austrian motorway before being stopped, police said Thursday.

No accident resulted from the ride on Wednesday night. The man said the rain and darkness had caused him to go in the wrong direction.

“It’s a miracle that there was no accident, especially since he kept scrupulously to his right and drove in the passing lane,” said Maximilian Ulrich, a police spokesman in the southeastern city of Graz.

I did, however, come a way with a little collection of my own. I asked if they had any plants for sale, but they do not. Actually, they looked at me like I was nuts or like I thought I was in a plant store, instead of a botanical garden. In the United States it’s very common for a botanical garden to sell little cuttings and leaves to make some extra cash – I guess it is not so in Austria.

Anyway, I picked up a few stems and leaves that fell off as I brushed past them. The little glass contains pieces of: Camellia Sinesis (green tea plant), Fire Stick (from a 20 foot tree!!), Button climbing fern, Begonia and some really bizarre multi-segmented tree leaf (don’t know if that’s going to grow into anything).

Having the interior of your house painted Austria is much more different than what you might expect in the United States.

First of all, many in the U.S. will paint their own rooms as we (I) did in our little in-law unit in San Mateo but then, we didn’t have 13 foot ceilings with moulding on the ceiling and the wall.

Here’s a shot of our ceiling and walls (now freshly painted) to give you an idea of what we’re facing:

Most, as I have done, will go to the local home-repair store, bring paint chips, pillows, fabric swatches… whatever and have it electronically color-matched so that they can have the exact same color, again and again. Here, in Austria, you buy a huge bucket of white paint and bottles of colors and are expected to blend it yourself… or you hire a painter.

In the U.S. a painter will spend the first few days

covering everything in scotch tape and plastic. In Austria, they throw re-usable fabric drapes on the floor and a 6 inch paper boarder along the wall and get started — after they’ve spent a few hours hand-blending and matching the colors of your choice. Then, they hop on wood ladders that have the same step on each side, straddle the middle and walk from side to side as they paint the ceilings and top parts of the wall. As the perfect hostess you offer coffee, tea and cookies as I have done for the last seven days. Now, you’d think that the paint job has only taken seven days (the estimate was 3) but we’ve been in a state of semi-disaster for two weeks. The painters started last week but, with the four-day weekend (May 1st holiday) etc. everything has taken much longer than my patience, or joy of making caffe’ latte at 7:30 in the morning.

Anyway, this was the last morning and I took a picture to memorialize the event before clearing away the empty cups:

The paint job is fantastic, and the removed every bit of paint. It’s some kind of natural watercolor stuff and all you have to do is wet a sponge and wipe it off. Unfortunately, you have to be careful when cleaning the walls. “Don’t use water!” one of the painters told me. “It will wash off the color”. Of course, the wait until they’re on their way out the door to tell me this.

I have a toddler, are they kidding that I can’t wash the wall?!?

“Paint over the stains.” They said, as the closed the door on the way out.

I did however, get chastised for walking more than 15 feet from a shopping cart (baby on top, toddler in the back) to browse at the selection of dyer sheets at Target. “Oh MY GOD, what are you doing?!?!?” my sister shrieked in new-mommy panic. You are in the UNITED STATES, now. People STEAL children! I briefly pondered that and wondered if it’s a new mommy fear, or if you have a toddler going through the terrible two’s you don’t really care if someone lightens your load and makes him dissapear for a few hours of reli… er… I mean panic. But seriously, in Graz most people are not intersted in kidnapping your child and, had I been in that same situation in Graz (minus the dyer sheets, and Target but including the shopping cart and baby) I would have turned back to see a nice elderly person whipering sweet nothings to the baby and making funny faces to the toddler.

Another little culture shift took place as we got off the plane in Graz and were looking for a taxi. Instead of young hulking immigrants gnawing at the bits to take your bags and whisk you away… we got to the front of the taxi line and found an empty cab. “She went to take a coffee break,” said the next guy who would not take us because he was NEXT in line. We start to load the trunk with suitcase half-filled with dryer sheets and out comes the little white-haired old lady. Hubby and I look at eachother. We’re just about to tell her that the cab is taken when she sits in the driver seat. Well… that’ s not something you EVER see in ANY urban city in the United States!

…another reminder of lower crime and laid-back Austrians. I’m glad to be back.. home.