If you've been wondering about the unannounced blog silence yesterday... that was because of a relapse into my childhood days.

The little town where I grew up has a festivity each year, something like a country fair, perhaps - there's a parade of the school children through town, and some dances and sports things for and by the children, and then there's the fair area which is full of fun rides and booths where you can buy food, and a big tent (the Bierzelt) for sitting in (if you don't mind very loud music, that is). And a place where you can buy helium-filled balloons.

The fair runs for two days - Sunday and Monday - and everything is closed on Monday, because it's like an extra Sunday. It also feels like an extra Sunday, which is why I completely forgot to blog yesterday. After a few years of not being able to make it to the Wiesenfest, I managed to go home again this year for the two days. Most of my time was spent at the place where you can buy balloons, helping to knot them after filling with the gas.

My parents have been part of this since it started, so I have fond memories of the place, and the people, and I've always liked helping there. Let me tell you: I have knotted many balloons over the years, and I can knot a balloon very, very quickly.

I came back and it was just like always this year - a lot of fun, and on Monday a lot of knotting of balloons. A huge, huge lot of knotting, because one of the fair's traditions (and tradition is an important thing for this one) is children taking one or two balloons into town on Monday evening, when it's the official end of the fair, and letting them fly.



It is a spectacular thing to watch when almost two thousand balloons in all colours rise up into the sky. It's also slightly weird to know that you have held a substantial percentage of these balloons in your hands... and that everyone letting go of a balloon has done a good deed as well, since the money from selling them goes to charitable organisations that help children in need.

So this is why you got no blog post yesterday - because in my personal universe, it was totally a day off and everyone of course knows that nothing work-wise ever happens on Wiesenfest-Montag, because for all practical purposes it's just like an extra Sunday. (And now you know that, too.)

Dear Little Cat,

you are very soft, and very cute, and very cuddly. You are also a very friendly cat, and I do appreciate that you like to be in my company. I like to be in your company, too.

I can also understand that you wish to be petted from time to time, and that a nap close to someone you love is much better than just a nap. Finally, I am delighted that you take an interest in my work, and sometimes wish to participate.

However, you curling up on my desk? Especially in a way that means your paw rests on my laptop's touchpad?



Not. Helpful.

It's finally raining again here, and there is a good amount of water coming down gradually - very, very much appreciated by all the plants. (Plus it means I might soon be able to finish washing my fleeces!) The cat does not feel as happy as I do about the rain, though - for her, it means a sleepy day, as she prefers not to get wet if she can help it. No umbrella for her - though she could theoretically accompany me, under my umbrella, when I'll walk to the post office later today to send off some parcels.

Speaking of outside and the garden, we recently had the pleasure of meeting this guy:


It's a ladybird beetle larva, doing what they do best: eating aphids. In this case, sitting on a (wild) poppy bud. Judging from the amount of aphids still left, we could have used about twenty more of its kind, though!

Today's a public holiday here in Germany, so you're not getting a proper blog post - just garden pictures instead:

 ...blooming lilies...

... blooming poppy...


and the Ecuador Purple Chili is doing its thing, too.

It's hot outside, by the way... and the sun is shining like there's no tomorrow. Once it has cooled off a little, I have gardening work to look forward to, but for now? It's time to relax, and have a coffee, and some strawberries, and a nice quiet afternoon.

It's the time of the year when the elderberry trees are blooming here, and I can smell their sweet scent through the open windows.

Elderberries outside the window... in full bloom.

Which means it's the time of the year for a very traditional food - fried elderberry flowers. They are known as "Hollerküchle" hereabouts, and the typical batter for them is made with beer:

2 eggs
100 g flour
125 ml beer
1 pinch of salt

all mixed together into a batter. If you don't like beer batter, you can substitute milk or even (sparkly) water. The batter should be enough for about 12 elderberry flowers - use them as fresh as possible. If you want, you can dip them in cold water until clean, then let them dry off. (I usually pick only clean ones and save the washing.)

Dip each flower into the batter, then fry in hot oil or (even better) hot clarified butter until golden brown. Serve hot, sprinkled with confectioner's sugar or a mix of sugar and cinnamon. It's a lovely dessert or, if you make more of it, a lovely sweet main meal.

A while ago, I was presented with a little coffee cup filled with coffee beans. Except that the beans were not roasted, and someone had dropped them into some soil inside a little flowerpot inside that coffee cup, and poured some water over all that, and watered them again and again and... the result were a couple of small coffee plant sprouts.

The largest one, meanwhile, has grown to look like this:






Some day, the Internet tells me, this thing might actually bloom and have coffee cherries later on. It also tells me that this will probably take another three or so years... well. I think I'll just go on buying coffee in the meantime, and I won't hold my breath for home-grown! It makes a nice plant, though. Not as decorative (yet) as the Ecuador Purple Chili:


but then purple chili fruit is really hard to beat, decorativeness-wise.

Final fun fact about coffee: The plant belongs to the same plant family as madder... does that explain why plant dyers love their coffee?

It's sunny outside, warming the water in which a sheep fleece is soaking. It's wool-washing season again!

And it is a joy to be outside in that beautiful weather (although wool washing season also means that I am waiting for a good, heavy rain to re-fill my water supply). Plus the view is nice - it's one of my favourite times of the year for looking at our living willow fence: the time when it's all lush and green, but it is still possible to see a bit of its structure through the leaves.



The peach tree that we planted on an espalier last year has actually bloomed this spring, and now it has three or four tiny fruits. I hope they will hang on there until they are nice and big and ripe!