I love starting the day with my lovely Danish client.
She tells me about her beloved homeland while cheerily eating her 5 minute egg, toasted sesame buttered bun and sipping her very strong coffee, whitened with just a smidge of whipping cream.
MMMM I want to be like that when I am 83.
Today she told me about the flag that flew outside the King's residence after the Nazi occupation of Denmark.
"The King called the German commander and told him to take the flag of Nazi Germany down and to replace the Danish flag that had always flown there. The Commander told him that the flag would remain. The King then told him, in that case he would send a soldier to take it down. The Commander told him the soldier would be killed. The King said: "The soldier is me." "
Apparantly King Christian was a very good man. We never hear such stories here unless a patriotic dane tells them.
We took our next position on the battlefield facing our enemy: the fridge.
(cue music: DAH DAH DUM!)
I could not fit one more thing in that fridge. I asked her if she was expecting a shortage of danish jam and specialty condiments. She has someone in there every day checking on her assisting and assessing as her breathe is laboured at best. Apparantly everyone else thinks she likes hoarding jams and jars by the hundred.
"Can't we sort this fridge of yours out?" I said hopefully.
"I know these things are expensive but I am afraid you are going to poison yourself with something outdated or that I would throw the wrong thing away."
"Oh dear, I wish you would."
"Not ME, my dear, *US*."
There was nothing for it but to show up a little early and take every single item out and put it on the dining room table for her to approve or decry. I took 3 black garbage bags to the curb.
The fridge is looking pretty smug today. But wait 'til Thursday. I will finish the job.
Sounds mundane?
My client has been ill about 4 times in 3 months with miscellaneous gastric complaints.
SOMEONE had to clean that buggery fridge.
;)
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