So... we did manage to get a wildlife camera (my aunt had one that she could borrow), but whoever lives in our compost heap cunningly chose a time of night that was very foggy to appear. So yes, someone is there. No, we don't know yet what kind of animal it is (though it might be just plain, boring... rats).

We'll keep our eyes open. And the camera trained on the place! 

...in our compost bin.

It was covered by a little bit of dried grasses and such, but now we know why there's so much soil and compost heaped on the side of the compost bin!

As it's about one metre above ground, we suspect it's not a hedgehog (unless we have a climbing hedgehog in our garden). 

Any guesses on who might have gone on a digging spree here? 

I'm back home for a bit after the wool festival in Backnang - which was lovely, and full of nice chats, and two spinning workshops that were very well received (at least I got a lot of positive verbal feedback, and nobody hit me over the head with a distaff! I count that as well received overall). 

It was very, very exhausting, though. If you're a solo trader and give workshops, you have basically no break at all. The setup I had - two workshops while running a booth throughout the whole weekend - was only possible because of the wonderful support of the Alte Künste-Team, who graciously occupied my booth and sold stuff for me while I was gone (thank you so much again!) and the help of my other wonderful neighbours, Frau Wöllfchen, who also had an eye on my stuff when I had to run off to the loo.

Because, let's face it - if you're a solo trader at these markets, reality is that you turn up in the morning when the place opens for the exhibitors, get your stuff sorted out, then you're there all the time except for a loo break when necessary - which is run to the toilet, do your stuff, and run back. If you're really lucky, someone from the team running the fair has organised a coffee distributor who passes by your stall and offers you a cup, or if you're really really lucky you have someone to spot you for ten minutes so you can have a breath of fresh air and maybe catch a cup of joe yourself. You're not getting out of your corner otherwise until the end of the day, when all you want to do is go to your overnight place and have something to eat and quiet and an early night to recharge for the next day.

Mind you, please, I'm not complaining. That's just how it is, and on a good fair, the day is so full of chats with people you don't even realize how time passes, and may even have trouble finding the time to eat. (You learn quickly to just make that time, no matter what.) Being in that rush, and knowing you're managing all this by yourself has its own kind of feelgood attached... and it's not that you don't know how it is after, at the latest, the first fair or show you're doing solo. (Kind-of-pro-tip: If you are on a fair, and have the time, and there's a solo trader you like - you might make their day if you ask them if you can fetch them a coffee, or something else.)

And there's always the unexpected talks about half- or very-way-off topics. The quiet chat with lovely people. The unexpected laugh, or crazy little action. In Backnang on the weekend, one of the giggliest times was the visit of the Green-Eared Cat (who is a very well-known personality at wool festivals here, and some of that may rub off on her taxi people). She turned up with her personnel, but of course the little piece of the Bamberg cloak reconstruction I had with me to show to people was only large enough for the cat herself to try on.  (The personnel will have to get themselves to Bamberg into the exhibition, where the full-size object is available for humans of any size to try on.)

But the cat did try it on, and to all our great delight, it fit her perfectly: 

So now it's sorting everything back, then packing for the European Textile Forum. Last prep for that is also running; we're still wondering about the best way to form artificial pearls, for instance. 

There's also two paper drafts that have to be finished and handed in, and some orders to be sent out, so I'm definitely not suffering from boredom right now!

One of the things you hear again and again these days is that less meat in the diet is better - for both health (generally speaking) and the environment. 

That is all well and good; however, what I don't really get is the many fake meat products. Usually heavily processed and full of stuff to make the result more or less seem like a meat sausage or whatnot, they are also generously packaged in lots of plastic and usually at least at the price point of actual meat products... even if you buy organic.

As a rule, I don't go for these stand-in products unless there's an opportunity to try a tiny little bit of it. And until now, I have not found any of them to really come close to the stuff they are trying to copy. Even if the texture of some fine-ground sausage is actually quite close to the original, the taste just is... off. It lacks the taste of meat (which is logical, but, well, if you eat it because you like the pork taste... it's lacking). 

Apparently it's also really difficult to emulate the structure of meat by processing and mixing other things. There's a paper about this (from Physics of Fluids, interestingly), that is freely available. So if you're interested in a very close look at Veggie sausage compared to the meaty stuff... enjoy.

No, it's not a trash documentary in the sense that the film is trash - rather it's about trash, especially plastic waste, and how it gets treated and recycled (or, spoiler alert: not). You can watch it here in the ARD Mediathek.

It's hard to find words about all the shit going on in today's world, really. And very obviously, one of the best ways to help with the plastic waste problem is to cause as little as possible. 

I have a disgustingly large number of unsorted images, and while I also have a goal of doing a little bit about that regularly (though not daily), it's still a disgustingly large number. I can't even say if it does get better, as there's the occasional influx of images... but the last few days, I think I did have less incoming pictures than those getting sorted.

Among them that were sorted was this one: 

...and yes, that's exactly what I could use now. Not getting my own ears massaged (I think feline ears are much better suited for that), but hanging somewhere, chilling. There was bits and bobs of this and that getting done today, that kind of work day where in the end you feel like nothing has happenend though there was something to do all the time.

Fortunately the weekend is almost upon us, and I am looking forward to that. I hope you'll have a nice one too!

I did learn a great deal during my week-and-a-bit in the clinic. One thing that's rather easy to learn if you're lucky like me, and go through your procedure and recovery with very little trouble, is - humility. There's a lot of luck involved in the diagnosis and treatment of any disease, and when you hang out in a clinic, you will usually see quite a lot of people that have it much worse. 

I also gained a much deeper appreciation, and a lot more respect, for the people working in the care industry. Everyone on my ward was always calm and friendly, even if there was a lot to do. They were going back and forth all the time, and put in some extra time before their shift and some extra time afterwards to make sure the hand-over was complete, and their colleagues were informed about everything. Whenever there was an issue, they'd be there, happy to help. Any questions were answered if possible, or if it was a question for a doctor, that was stated clearly and then the doctor would be asked about it. Once I was woken up for the night-shift checks, and the lady apologised for having to wake me - even though it was her job to do so, and I knew when I went to bed rather early that this would happen. 

Working a care job is a very hard job, but seeing the people on this team, you'd never suspect it. They were, one and all, really wonderful and I can't praise them enough.

Another thing I have learned? How to administer an anti-thrombosis injection to myself. Because of side issues of Cushing's Disease like a less effective immune system and a higher risk of thrombosis, I got extra antibiotics plus extra anti-thrombosis injections for a full 5 days, 3 times a day. That was a lot of injections... and I was offered, straight from the start, that I could do them myself if I wanted to. After a few of them, and after one of the ladies managed to accidentally hit a spot where it actually hurt, I did decide to try it. The trick is to pinch a fold of muscle in your thigh (or belly, but I went for the thigh), insert the needle, then let go of the pinch and slowly press in the injection. It did not hurt at all that way. (It got a little uncomfortable and stung afterwards, as the liquid moved through the tissues, but that can't be changed. You also inevitably get a "blauer Fleck" around the point, proof that the anticoagulation stuff is working!) 

When you get surgery like mine, you also get to do fun things for a while. Such as dragging an infusion stand around with you; I quickly dubbed him Hans-Georg. Though, admittedly, we had a lot of fun together, the nurse's declaration that he would be my new best friend was not completely correct. I was quite glad to officially break up with him on Tuesday night! 

I also learned that I tend to drink a lot if there's tea available right outside my door, and I have nothing to do all day. Except, well, hang around and sip tea, especially as that also seemed to help my nose to get less congested. And sniffing the tea was a nice way to try and wake up the sense of smell.

Finally, I got told (before surgery) to ask for pain medication afterwards as soon as I'd realise the pain was coming back, or increasing. Both the surgeon and my roommate at that point made it very clear that trying to just endure the pain would be a very bad idea. The explanation? Traumatic pain like you have after a surgery is harder to dampen down the higher it was able to rise, and there's a kind of memory mechanism that will kick in over a certain threshold. You do not want to have pain memory. So, basically, waiting too long before asking for more pain meds after a surgery will mean that they take longer to take effect, and that you will need more and possibly stronger ones to work. Since I was not planning on having more pain than absolutely necessary, I asked for some more drugs straight away when I noticed the pain coming in - and that did work wonderfully.

Fun side story: When I first came to again after surgery in the wake-up ward, I had some pain in my nose (which was to be expected) and in my left ankle (which was utterly unexpected). The pain meds made the nose pain go away, but the ankle persisted in being really painful. I told the nurses about it, and there was nothing visible, no swelling... and then they removed the foot part of the surgical hose, and a minute later, the pain was gone. There must have been a tiny fold pressing on a weird spot!