The day after the weekend

I still have one more day to prepare my speech for the Jehovah's witnesses ladies.

But what I wanted to write about today is still related to religion.

Long story short - I came to be owner of a very large icon which sadly has no place in my home. I thought of going to the church and giving it away to someone who might appreciate it better. Which I did. I got sidetracked (as I usually do) and instead of giving it to an older and rather poorer lady, the icon ended up in the hands of a horrendous lady whose daughter is both a dentist and a princess (I kid you not, I have her business card, which reads First Name - PRINZESSIN - Last Name, the last name having a posh sound about it), and she wanted to thank me by getting me to be  her dentist daughter's client. I managed to dodge that one quite swiftly (that is only because I was completely unaware of her intention), but when she asked for my phone number, I could find no reason to refuse her. So I gave it to her.

As you may suspect, the hag called me. She interrogated me for some ten minutes.

Here I must explain something to you: I am getting more and more like my grannie every day. If you ask my grandmother a question, she feels compelled to provide you with practically every little detail she can think of related to the subject matter. For example, the phone rings and someone asks to talk to my dad. Instead of saying simply 'He is not at home', my gran starts giving full details about his daily routine, his job, his office, the car he drives and when he actually left that morning, blah, blah. You get the picture. I used to get pissed when she would give me away on certain occasions, but mostly I was very amused by this habit of hers. Now, I find myself being more and more like her! Count on me to share most unusal and often inappropriate details, the difference between me and gran being only that I have to be asked for such details, I (for the moment) do not offer them unprompted for.

So, coming back to the hag. She first mistook me for my mother, because I only said 'Alo?' - it is what is most often said in Romania and I consider it quite appropriate to continue to do so. Obviously, since I said 'alo', I had to be my mother. Then she proceeded to ask me about the icon, not without first telling me the current whereabouts of said icon, if you must know it is located in the 'children's room', she had three grandsons and they come sometimes and sleep over and there it where the icon hangs now. So, what she wanted to know was a) when it was given the holy rite by the priest (says so on the back); b) where (still on the back, really, just take a look); c) how long have I had it for (sorry, WHA'??).

Then she wanted to know (stream of conscience following) how long have we been here in Germany, have we been to the church before, 'cause the priest there does not know us, she asked him if he gave the holy rites to the icon, he said no (I wonder if it was before asking him if he knew us...), he gave such rites to some icons before, but those were sold for the benefit of an orphans' shelter in Romania, don't we go to church (you might think we met at the pub), that was her first time she went to the church after two months spent back in Romania (I SO wanted to know that, it was vital for my well being), where did we come from, do I have a job, why not, what is my profession, don't I want to get a job (she was not interested in offering me tips to get a job, no, she was just curious to know if I like being a lousy Hausfrau or if I intend to finally work for a living)... And THIS is where I finally caught a brake and said good bye.

Typical old nosey parker behaviour!

I resisted bravely to giving away to many details and I am very impressed by myself. It was also helpful to have some ten little bells ringing viciously in my head at each of her questions and I think it has something to do with her, she was the one who got the bells ringing, she is the busybody pushing all buttons at once.

But this got me thinking - why, oh, why do older ladies have such an effect on me? I feel like a 6 year old all over again! They inspire me the same disgruntled respect and need to tell the truth when asked, but only when I think it is what they want to hear. Sheesh...

Aaanywho. The shops started hanging Christmas decorations two weeks ago. We had the first snow last week. I guess next week it's time for ol' Christmas radio to start playing again. But the iTunes are conspiring against it. Have no fear, I will find a way.

And for the musical end, I leave you with a newly discovered band HURT and their heartfelt 'World Ain't Right'.

Tuesday the 13th

Tuesday are not particularly lucky, at least in the Romanian culture. They hold 3 unlucky hours, they say.

13th day of the month is also not that bright in the luck department.

Together they are certainly not auspicious, not for me, not this time of the year.

And most certainly, not for the ladies from the Jehovah's witnesses, who came and did not find me.

Have no fear, they will come back next week.

Tolerance continued

Finding some quiet time after a lot of shoving furniture around the living room, I get to share with my blog the fact that the ladies from Jehovah's witnesses came back last Tuesday. Apparently, Tuesday is the day of the week they spend in my neighbourhood and I get to answer the door at 3 in the afternoon - in case anyone missed it the first time, I enjoy quiet afternoons.

This time they left me the program with all the bible themes that are to be discussed each Sunday until the end of the year. And a booklet with the main topics from the Bible that people are interested in and do not have the time or drive to actually look up in the Bible. I will spare the virtual reader and myself the pain of skimming through it.

This Tuesday they promised to come again. I am at a loss. Do I really seem to be so welcoming, when all this time I thought of myself as a proper hag repelling unwanted people to bother me a second time? I do have to reconsider my attitude.

The pretext is to come pick up the booklet.

I need to find the proper argument for them to abandon all hope of converting me. Or at least of getting me to join their cult or whatever. And most importantly, I want my quiet Tuesdays back. Even the thought of them coming over is troubling.

I understand that this is what 'missionaries' do, try to make people see their truth, against said people's will, but really, in this modern times, the idea of missionary is out of place for me. With a modicum of interest, you can find out anything you want to know about practically everything that you had no idea about. One of the blessings of internet. The counterpart is that anyone is virtually a doctor in anything nowadays, with a degree from the Google Academy of Higher Truth and Knowledge. Digressing, again...

The above mentioned shoving around of furniture is needed in the eve of the arrival of the new, proper, grown-up furniture that is to confirm our grown-up status. It is also good for the morale, keeps things fresh, and I can't wait for the furniture to finally come home and organize the books as I have always wanted to.

Until then, I HAVE to come up with a forceful yet polite line to serve the ladies up on Tuesday, so that they quit visiting me. I suspect I am pretty pathetic, being afraid, well, not afraid, but inconvenienced by two Jehovah's witnesses ladies. Such a push-over...