Schadenfreude. A most useful German word that we have poached. In essence it means taking pleasure in someone else’s misfortune, something Brits are not supposed to do; or certainly not admit to anyway! I concede I experienced a little of that feeling yesterday when I was blamed for the lack of cream for her Ladyship’s coffee. Stomping off in high dudgeon, she had almost reached the local Tesco, with rain pouring down, when she realised she had left her face mask behind. About turn, trek home and start again. South Africans have a wonderfully sardonic one-word expression that covers the situation; shame. I had forgotten about the aforementioned German word until a friend from that Country reminded me of it. I guiltily confess I did experience a little schadenfreude at Mrs T’s misfortune.
That same German friend is a professional barista who used to make the most delicious coffee at our local deli/cafe. Sadly the cafe side has been forced to close courtesy of Covid, but I have been able to seek her advice when it comes to making Americanos at home. Grinding my own high quality beans, I feel as though I should immediately be ahead of the game. If nothing else the lovely smell of freshly ground coffee is a great way to start the day and it’s an instant check on whether you’re suffering from Covid or not! I have a new Bialetti Moka percolator, one of those Italian aluminium creations that sits on the stove and bubbles away with rather pleasing gurgling sounds until all the water in the bottom half has passed through the grinds and up a central tube into the upper reservoir, from which it is easily poured. The issue is knowing how fine to grind the beans and how much to put in the hopper. According to Barista lady, if the coffee is bitter it means the grinds are too fine (and perhaps too plentiful) so that the water lingers too long passing through them. If the coffee tastes acidic it means the grind is too coarse and the water has passed too hastily through them. At least I think that’s what she said. I am going through a lengthy process of experimentation to find the right combination. It’s not terribly scientific and I confess is somewhat frustrating. It’s a bit like the old Artillery practice of “bracketing”, where you deliberately shoot over the target, then adjust so that your missiles fall short, then try going long again, but shorter than your first shots, then go short but longer than your first short shots (I hope you’re following this) and so on until you hit the target….assuming it hasn’t moved while you pratted about!
Talking of which I heard today that they are considering appointing a senior military person to try to rescue the mess that is Test, Track, Trace, Isolate and generally screw up people’s lives. If they do, I just hope they find a suitably competent person and not someone who’s risen through the peacetime ranks by keeping their nose clean and doing what they’re told. There are plenty of those I assure you! However, it is the sort of thing that a senior officer, used to planning major campaigns, should be able to organise well. The thing they must remember though is that in the Army, when you say “jump soldier” the response will be “Yes Sir, how high?” Civilians don’t always respond in quite the same way. I would put myself forward for consideration but as I am no longer serving, nor was I very senior, means I sadly don’t qualify. The fact that I would be bloody hopeless is irrelevant.
Once again, I am on the horns of a dilemma. (It seems to happen a lot these days). The Rotary Club, of which I am a very new member, is pursuing a course of action that is laudable in its intention, but in my very humble opinion, stark staring bonkers to attempt. The project will be discussed at length in a lunchtime Zoom meeting and my conscience tells me I should speak up and proclaim my misgivings. I don’t think I am the only one (I certainly know of one other Thomas), but as a new boy I am reluctant to stick my head above the parapet. What to do? I suspect it will come down to a momentary decision; the easy life or stand up and be counted? I’ll let you know. As far as I know there’s no German word or expression for this particular dilemma.
ADayInTheStrifeOf 