Doggie shoes and elephants

So, what have I been up to?

Last weekend, off we went to the hundeskov as usual, and after about 10 minutes there, we saw that we were following a little blood trail through the snow. Unfortunately, that trail of blood was coming from Zoe's back toe - she had cut open the pad on her pinkie toe and it was bleeding quite a bit. Without being able to study the damage there and not wanting it to get any worse, we cut our trip short and headed home.

We washed out the paw as well as we could and then attempted a makeshift doggie bandage to give it some time to heal without getting any dirt in it. We wrapped the paw in some bandages and then put an old sock on her foot. But between Zoe running around and Lexi thinking that thing on Zoe's foot must be a new toy, the bandage didn't last long.

At that point, we decided that perhaps with all the salt they put on the roads here, it was time to give in and purchase a pair of doggy shoes for each pup. We weren't sure what sizes to buy so we only ordered one pair for each dog until we could see how big, or small, they actually were. The shoes arrived Wednesday. I put the shoes on Zoe's back feet, she kicked around for a bit, and then settled in - I think she realized they were actually quite comfy with the fleece lining and all.

Lexi was another story. I decided to test hers on her front feet and in doing so, witnessed possibly her funniest doggy moment to date. Promptly after having her shoes put on, she kicked up both feet, then attempted to walk. You know the old russian military footage where they kick the foot straight out before setting it down - Lexi could've joined a marching band the way she was strutting around here! I was doubled over in laughter. When I finally settled down, I removed their shoes for the time being. But now, if a bandage becomes necessary, or if the roads are freshly salted, we're covered!

So that's the doggie shoes. As for the elephants...

Ole is sitting at his computer and just muttered the phrase...

"Damn elephant, you're supposed to sprinkle fairy dust."

Hmmm..

Hungry?

Your tax dollars at work...

Thursday evening, at approximately 5 pm, this brick was officially plonked down on my desk by Ole, who declared "They can't just DO that!". Ahh, but they can, and they did. Yep, the wonderful IRS has spent who knows how much money to send a ream of paper, postmarked through Auckland, New Zealand (still trying to figure that one out), all the way to cold, dark Denmark. Every sheet of paper contained in this brick is also available via the internet, which, as it turns out, is exactly how I obtained all the forms last year and filed them.

To all the US taxpayers out there that may think this is wasteful spending, rest assured, I have to send far more money back to the US than it cost to send that ream of paper to me. Apparently someone, somewhere, wants to make it very clear that: 1. they know I owe them money, and 2. they know where I live.

Grumble

Good morning sunshine...

 

This was the view at 9 AM yesterday (Friday the 13th for those keeping track). I just thought the pink sky was so pretty I couldn't resist snapping a pic!

Snowdogs

SNOW!! Okay, it's not much snow, but it's something! I had to take some quick pictures before it all melted away. The pups are loving it. :)

A spoonful of ..

It appears that, for me at least, it is always the silliest little things that can lead to the most culture shock. It tends not to be the government, the schools or the taxes that make me realize it's a 'foreign' country. But rather, something so simple, and yet so foreign. In this case, silverware, or more specifically, spoons and forks, and their uses.

Growing up in the US, every basic set of silverware sold in a store, regardless of it's actual design, contained the following pieces:


Desert/Salad Fork, Dinner Fork, Knife, Tablespoon, Teaspoon.

For the basic everyday place setting, we used only the dinner fork, knife and teaspoon. The 'tablespoon' was better known to me as a 'soup spoon' and that was pretty much it's only purpose in life. It was the big spoon that sat in the drawer unused unless it was Campbell's soup time. Grab the ritz crackers, smash them all over the top of your soup, and then get that rare implement out of the drawer and dig in!

The desert/salad fork was used primarily for cake. Yummy! If the little fork was on the table it meant something really tasty was on it's way - hopefully chocolate, with chocolate frosting.

But then I moved to Denmark. Now, as this is the only foreign land in which I have lived, I have no idea if their version of silverware use is exclusive to Denmark, or if this is one of those European things. But, here is your basic set of silverware found in all the stores here:


Fork, Knife, Teaspoon, Tablespoon.

Attention here must be given to the teaspoon. Notice the size. Notice that little-itty-bitty speck of a spoon. Reminds me of the spoon that is given only to those learning to use silverware for the first time - the baby spoon.

But no, that is the teaspoon in Denmark, and in general, it's not on the table. They use the monstrous tablespoon as their everyday spoon. Granted, it IS called a tablespoon, so perhaps they're onto something here and if so, it pains me to admit, if we're going solely by names, they're using it correctly and Americans are not. But, but, tis just a 'name' given randomly at some point I am sure! My dear danish hubby eats his morning cereal with this particular spoon. I just can't bring myself to do it; it just seems SO huge.

On the other hand, the little-itty-bitty, can't pick up anything with it, spoon is used for dessert. And this is where logic fails me. For the life of me, I cannot comprehend eating cake with a spoon; it just sends my brain into a tizzy and confuses my taste buds. It may be okay when it comes to ice cream, however, it's so small it will take you several hours to actually eat the bowl of ice cream, and you know what that means for the ice cream - it turns into the wicked witch of the west and screams.. "I'm melting!"

It's always a fun evening at our house when we have Danish relatives for dinner; I like to confuse the hell out of them by using the typical American place setting. After all, our wedding cutlery did come from the states so... tis only natural!

And now for something completely different. When it comes to the Danes, and their love of modern design, you may end up with silverware that looks like this....



I can't begin to explain what these 3 pieces of silverware might be useful for, unless perhaps one is trying to lose weight, so I won't even try.

Ooooo it's electric

Someday, perhaps, I may get used to the electrical outlets here in Denmark. I hope I do, for no other reason than to save my sanity.

Let me explain. I've told you before about the toaster oven - the one I used to successfully charcoal two pieces of bread - well, apparently I'm equally talented when it comes to not crisping the bread at all.

I don't know if it's due to the 220V current running through the walls, or just an energy saving measure, but with every electrical outlet comes a switch. This is endlessly frustrating as the switch never seems to be in the 'on' position, even though you KNOW you left it that way. I believe, however, that I have figured out why it's never 'on'. Here is a picture of one such outlet in our home:

 

The big switch on the top is for the lights, and the big switch immediately below that controls the outlet. Apparently when I'm moving through the house, doing the reach-around to flip lights on, or off, I tend to also accidentally flip the switch directly below it. I didn't grow up in a 2-switch world; I grew up in an old house that had just one innocent little light switch as you entered a room. So, the absent minded swing the hand around the doorway, flick the switch, always worked. If you didn't hit the first time, you just did a little wall grope until you connected with said switch and voila, the lights were on - or off.

But the wall grope here can result in all sorts of other things being switched on or off, so, apparently, I must now learn to look before flicking.

What does any of this have to do with a toaster oven? Well, the oven has one of those little timers that works whether or not the power is actually on. So, in went the frozen rolls, temperature selected, timer set so as not to burn anything, and 13 minutes later upon hearing the wonderful ding indicating that my breakfast rolls were now hot and yummy, into the kitchen I went. Hmm, no hot and yummy here - still frozen. Because yes, while the timer did it's job and the 'ding' happened, the oven had no power and I had no breakfast, and the whole process starts again.

I guess the moral of this story is: When in foreign lands, be careful what you grope!

p.s. If you've dropped in from Strange Shores, welcome! If you haven't, head on over there to hear exciting tales from around the globe.