Monday, May 21, 2012

Reduced to a Pile of Ash

Ever since we have moved into our “temporary” apartment, I have noticed that most of the apartments are not “temporary” homes but are “real” homes.  Many of the balconies around us have beautiful balcony gardens with flowers blooming everywhere - and then there are ours …   The Shaker and Olive are both very good at landscape gardening.  So I have left that project for them.  Also, our real home will be an apartment with a balcony as well so the balcony garden can move with us. 

The Shaker had been looking around at plants for the past few weekends before Olive’s arrival but buying and transporting bags of dirt would pose a problem for us.  Ok, maybe not the buying part but parking is a problem in Basel. There is “no pull up to the curb and just dash into the store” kind of parking by us.  So this took some thinking; out came the roller bag (aka “the Oma Tas”). 

It was my idea to wheel the roller bag down to the garden store, put two 20 liter bags into it and wheel it home.  So this past weekend, we started out and got lunch first, did the grocery shopping and then ended up at the garden store.  By the time we reached there, we had 2 shopping bags filled but the roller bag was still empty.

Inside the store we got the bags of dirt, 3 pots, and 3 balcony trays, a watering can, and 2 kinds of fertilizer.  We got the 3 pots for some tomato plants that The Shaker was given at work last week from a colleague.  The Shaker had the 2 dirt bags, Olive had the 2 shopping bags, and I had the pots and a watering can and was given the 3 trays to hold.  We were starting to make our way to the cashier to check out when I some how or another had a walking malfunction.  The plastic watering can some how popped out of the 3 round pots and proceeded to bounce down the aisle, landing at the foot of an “older” man. 

Now remember my German is still not that great but the word “sorry,” I know, is understood everywhere here in Europe!  I am chasing this watering can down the aisle saying “sorry, sorry, sorry” knowing full well that no one can hear because the watering can is making so much noise.  So when the watering can finally stopped it landed a the foot of a customer’s foot – a man’s foot and mind you, it didn’t hit him or hurt him in anyway.  He just turned slowly around at me and gave me one of those “reduced to ashes” kinds of stares.  I was so shocked because I know that my mouth fell open and I felt like a 3-year old again.

Olive is standing behind me when this happening and I turn to around to her to see if she is seeing what I am seeing and do you know what Olive did to me – burst out laughing.  And not just any laugh; it was one of those sidesplitting, bent over, crying kind of laughs.  She had to duck down an aisle because she was laughing so hard.  She said this, “The “look” that man gave Sarah was like one moment, she was standing there and then next -she was pile of smoldering ash.”  I was given the “laser eye.”

By this time The Shaker is up ahead and turns around to see what all the commotion is about.  Now usually I try to be one of those quiet American people, but not this day.  I was so shocked by the “laser stare,” that I said, quite loudly at The Shaker, “Did you see the look that that man just gave me?”  All the while, Olive is still peeing with laughter and then I had to join in the laughing which made The Shaker start laughing that we forgot all about this sweet, little, laser-staring, not-hurt man.

Here are “before” and “after” pictures:

As you can see, the tomato plants have not been planted yet.  Olive and The Shaker ran out of dirt!   We have to go back to the garden shop today; I am making Olive walk into the store first …

The Martini Knitter

Labels:  olive, the shaker

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