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The window fan's louvred shutter was struggling with the southerly gales while I cooked dinner. [Fish fingers with baked beans and tinned tomatoes.] Some sort of external cover might be useful. I turned the fan on and that helped.
Nothing worth watching on Netflix [again!] So I tried a search for "cooking for beginners" on YouTube. Some of the presenters clearly imagine themselves celebrity chefs. Or failed comedians looking for a new career. Others think they are DJs. Giving a live music show to their adoring fans. Some of them are quite clearly mentally ill. Or have massively inflated opinions of their own performance. Always the Napoleon. Never his batman.
Background jingles should be banned where it overlaps speech. It took incredible tolerance just to watch a few basic lessons on egg cooking in all its variety. There were some useful tips. At the expense of an evening utterly wasted. Largely on watching complete and utter dross. Get over yourselves!
Today I am suffering from anxiety about the remaining tidying to be done. There are at least four kinds of "stuff:"
1: Stuff with obvious value or beauty to be stored safely. Mostly completed but needs proper organisation. Auction? Individual online sales? No online auction [eBay] in Denmark. Fixed sale price with low viewing numbers in my own recent experience.
2: Stuff with no value and which can be safely discarded. Bin or recycling yard. Largely completed.
3: Intermediate stuff: Useful. So can easily remain for my own use. No problem at all.
4: That which is attractive, interesting, or has some small intrinsic value. Not really worthy of charity donation.
No 4 is my main problem area now. Mostly due to psychological attachment. It has close associations with my late wife. She saved anything and everything. Not household rubbish but small things. Anything attractive or potentially useful. So much of it! A serious logistical problem in sorting drawers full! Stacks of decorative plant pots? How do you dispose of them?
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While we were so isolated [and deliberately friendless] I didn't feel this pressure to tidy up. I had my own dusty collections and boxes of old stuff. Now largely donated to charity or even a few items sold. We were stuck in the same old rut for years. Nothing really changed except the seasons. I would make minor repairs or replace vital things.
Decorating was completely out of the question. When access to the walls was so difficult. I have cleared enough away now to make the need for a complete cosmetic overhaul. The bare walls are scruffy and damaged plasterboard. Some with old, foam insulation behind it. It had and has never been plastered since the previous owner rebuilt the place from a shed. Using very low skilled labour.
My wife tried to compensate for the overt scruffiness early on. By covering the ugly walls with large and pretty calendars and a few pictures. Most furniture surfaces were covered in ornaments and filled with "stuff." Making the moving of [an excess] of furniture, or even reaching over it, completely impossible.
It is no wonder my wife made it so dark indoors and lived for her gardening. [In season] And, no wonder she suffered from "winter blues!" Seasonal Affective Disorder. We were trapped in a time loop.
8.30 53F. Morning coffee. Still heavily overcast. A short, brisk walk the "wrong way" down the road and back. The morning traffic was very busy. A blustery wind with the suggestion of rain in the air.
I am struggling to find Her a VIP chair. The "bodgers" elm dining chairs are a bit rickety. There are no soft chairs or sofa left. I had to saw up the old, three seater settee. To make room for the hospital bed.
The IKEA patio chairs are steel and wood and rock hard! I'd better try to find her a cushion. We [She] settled on a solid four legged stool with a thick cushion.
10.10 55F. Shopping successful. The sell by dates were only for tomorrow. So I left some things behind. The manager is a complete moron. He blocks gangways with his shelf filling trolley and won't move. He throws the produce around as if it were rubbish. Making a hell of a row at times. Treats customers as if they were trespassers.
I have given all the carpets another vacuum. Well, if I don't pass the Danish Standard Household Proficiency Test they might compulsorily throw me in an old peoples' home. Or send me back where I came from! And nobody wants that. Do they? 😱
The young lady was very pleasant and sympathetic. We had a long chat and she is trying to arrange an appointment with a psychologist. I closely avoid blubbing a few times. There is a also possibility I can join a men's cooking class.
She made an odd but interesting suggestion. I should eat at the dining table. Not from a tray on my lap in front of the TV. Perhaps she wanted me to properly enjoy my own cooking?
After she had gone I had a much needed nap. Now I have dragged out all 30 hidden pictures. Intending to deliver them to the charity container at the recycling yard. The problems is getting them anywhere without the [thin] glass breaking. They have all been posted between bits of furniture but become highly vulnerable once exposed. Each has a hanging hook or rings. So that is a stress point if they are simply stacked together.
We knew them as "rederinger" [Pron. reth-earinger] when we collected these pictures 20 years ago. Google isn't finding anything under that name. They are a form of serial reproduction of paintings of Danish landmarks and rural scenes. Sadly, they are no more valuable today than they were when we bought them. I asked the village librarian but she had never heard of them. Neither had the woman in the charity shop. Whom had one of these "paintings" on the wall for £10 equivalent.
18.20 64F. I've watched the best YT video on perfect mushroom cooking. I've passed the oral exam. Now for the practical! I'm going to have a salmon pasty with mushrooms and boiled potatoes. Add a few sweet, organic, frozen peas. Job done.
Hang on! It's only 6.20. Am I a bit twirly? Well, I did have early lunch. I shan't tell, if you don't! 😋
19.45 64F. I have just finished eating. Everything turned out fine. Too many potatoes and slightly too many peas. I deliberately overcooked the mushrooms with a tiny bit of butter. As per the YT chef's instructions. I started the potatoes in cold water to avoid inconsistency of cooking. Good tip!
I sat at the table and concentrated on savouring each mouthful. Instead of flicking endlessly around Netflix. In vain hope of finding something worth watching.
I washed down the meal with sips of Danish Royal Classic Økologisk [Organic] Beer. Followed by a stroll down the drive with the black dustbin. For a bit of after dinner exercise. Despite the late hour and the speckled cloud, the sun was warm on my face. As I walked back in an absolute profusion of greenery. To the sound of blackbirds singing. It was the perfect end to quite a good day.
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