So where's the snow?

Muddling through in Austria, God and life, teaching and gardening plus the occasional cow

Thundering Friday!

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Storm coming from Thomatal

I’m writing on a Friday afternoon after another, ‘interesting ‘ day at the Burg. There must be some really shocking storms on their way to us, I’ve just had my first ever migraine without visual disruption and it went straight through to the band around the head and sickness.  Pills didn’t work, but now the clouds are really gathering, its lifting!

Michaela met me today, spitting bricks.  She double checked with me about the Sunday working and I agreed with her that it was not normal, we’d only do so once or so this year.  Helmuth had asked her to work on the 29th,my wedding anniversary and the day she’d planned to have a trip out with the twins after the confirmation.  I’m not going to work eight days through and not that Sunday.  I told her to remain ‘Stur’ or stubborn.

We agreed the tactic that she would stay away from Erna and I would work with her, and so the day panned out.  It was awful when my head span every time I bent down but there was a lot to do with a wedding this weekend.  Blasted kids spent the morning in the Rittersaal just after the had scrubbed it and the floors were wet, but fortunately it didn’t look too bad.

At the end of the day, we were sat in the Chapelzimmer.  As usual, Erna working at a breakneck speed and not cleaning thoroughly ahd finished early so we had an hour to spend.  Michaela suddenly got chatty and I thought ‘Praise God’, breakthrough, reconciliation!  Then we got onto the 29th.  Erna said often in the past people had been booked to work Sundays.  Then I said mildly that maybe Erna would have to work.  She hit the roof, I’m only part-time help, blah blah blah.  I have done enough hours this month, I’m not coming.  Then she said, Rosie had told Helmuth that we must come in to clean TWO LOOS, because there are new guests coming in after the wedding on Sunday afternoon.  I should have guessed she had a hand in it all.  When we finished, Michaela was steaming, and called Erna lots of lovely names in dialect, the best of which is Dirty goat!  I can see she’ll cave in and now I feel guilty.  But not on that Sunday will I work!    I’m really fed up with all this and would for two pins hand my notice in. I’ll see when I can think straight!

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