Friendly Fire

 Liz and I frequently lie down at the end of the day and snuggle under the blankets while we hold hands.  However, we both sometimes twitch as we go to sleep, so we know that there is less disturbance if we break our grips before we go to sleep.  Sometimes we forget, though.  A couple of nights ago, we broke our grip, but had our hands close together.  As it turned out, my left thumb was just above Liz's open hand.  I fall asleep rapidly, so I was in deep sleep when she violently jerked.  As she did, her hand closed over my thumb as she jerked her fist towards her.  The result was that she wrenched my thumb backwards, which was quite painful.  Today, it still hurts.  It is only a sprain, but I believe it is the only time she has ever physically hurt me.

I did the weekly shopping alone the other day.  We usually do it together, but sometimes we get over-booked and have to divide to conquer.  One of the items on the list was honey, which I was very happy about.  Slovenia is a beekeeping country and they are very proud of their varietal honeys.  The little isolated valleys in the hills and mountains of Slovenia are perfect for producing honey from a single flower, which is the very definition of varietal honeys.  I was anxious to try some more.  We have had a jar of Acacia honey since we came here, and it is very good, a nice light-colored honey with a mild flavor.  But this time I bought LIPOV, Slovenian "lime" honey, which actually comes from Linden trees.

Lime Honey

It is slightly darker than Acacia, and is very thick.  But the main feature of it is the strong lime flavor.  It is quite startling.  It is not unpleasant, but it is a bit overwhelming.  I had a peanut butter and honey sandwich for dinner tonight, and frankly, I couldn't taste the peanut butter at all.  The effect is somewhat like menthol, but not a menthol flavor - just the power of it.

I like the label a lot.  The art is the kind of painting popular on the front boards of Slovenian beehives.  It depicts a Slovenian bee house on the left with an old man relaxing nearby.  The boy in the tree is holding something (perhaps a smoker) up towards a honeybee swarm, and the man on the right is bringing a box to give the bees a new home.

Speaking of new homes, our landlord came today with a plumber.  They put in a new shower control to my specifications.  I have had trouble with bumping the long handle on the shower faucet and getting either a chill or a burn.  So the new one has no handle on it.  It is operated by simply turning knobs.  They also put in a new sink faucet with a flexible spout so it can be pointed in any direction.  We are very happy with both.

Life is good!   But, later as we sat down together on the couch to get a quick update of the daily news, Liz was crocheting.  She has a cute, but excellent, little pair of scissors shaped like an egret or some such bird.

Liz's sewing scissors

They slowly slid across the couch and fell into the gap between cushions, nearly disappearing.  Being a helpful sort, I reached in to retrieve them before they disappeared entirely.  Easy.  I didn't even feel the end of them, but when I pulled them out, that needle-like tip was buried in my middle fingertip.  And when I removed the scissors, it bled like crazy!  And yes, it hurt.

I told her she needed to take better care of her olde man, and she must have been a bit remorseful, because she didn't rip my head off.  That's a good sign.