§1. As if Sunday wasn't enough
The shops in town tend to be shut on Monday morning, too. Now that we are relieved from daddy-duty on Monday mornings but not yet back at work on them, this is a minor source of first-world problematics. We cycled the heavy two-child-seat-and-a-basket bike into town to go to the Italian delicatessen, and it was shut.
And then we cycled back in the rain.
§2. Economies of logistics
Our favourite food, these days, is sossage and bean casseroles. Simple peasant food.
But these days, the logistics of preparing a stew - even with a slow cooker or "crock pot" - mostly outweigh the expense of more expensive cuts of meat that can be prepared quicker.
The peasant cook's one luxury - of time - is the one we crave. (We do not otherwise crave a peasantular existence, for sure. And we did make a fine sossage casserole today.)
§3. All the young dudes eat allochthone foods.
Sometimes our hobby is reading Spiegel Geschichte. The current issue is on the Mayaztecincas (or whoever) of Central-South America (or wherever).
Who variously invented potatoes, maize, tomatoes and tobacco as well as thoughtfully creating some Lost Temples for the Gilded Yoof of our era to stomp on on the gap years while bonding over chats about the children's TV programming of their youth.
And then there are the tulips and carrots that came in from Turkey or the Silk Road, and the Popular Middle-Eastern Death Cult that was the religion of choice for most of the middle ages (which, we side with the late Jacques le Goff, lasted until the French Revolution), and you wonder exactly what it is that the defenders of Europe against its would-be defilers are really defending.
Turnips, gingers and mud? Not much of a manifesto, really, in our considered. And we bet there are other places with mud if it comes to that.
§4. The Pied-Piper and the Snow-White witch are working together
There are little floating wooden houses in the drainage canals that criss-cross our suburb.
It turns out that they are rat traps. There are apples in them, and when the rats venture in they weigh the traps down, so that water comes in, the traps sink, and the rats drown.
I don't know who's doing it, but I strongly urge that we pay them promptly.