Author Archives: Coco Ihle

About Coco Ihle

I am the author of SHE HAD TO KNOW, a mystery about two long lost sisters who reunite and nearly lose their lives searching for an ancient treasure and a murderer in a castle in Scotland. I am a member of MWA, FWA, SinC, Alma,a family search organization, Clan Buchanan of Scotland, and Linkedin. My website is www.cocoihle.com

Words & Coco-Words

For some reason or other, many times I’ve failed to find a dictionary word that would work for me, so I guess I’ve always made up words to better explain what I‘ve wanted to say or do, and I figure, at my age, why change. So, I’m still doing it.

My son, Rob, and his wife, Florence, recently married and shortly after the return from their Hawaiian honeymoon, their employer moved them to a new location two and a half hours south of me. They had been only forty minutes away. I was sad to see them go, but I was also happy for them, because the opportunities in the new location are better. I also knew that it would take a while to unpack and get settled in their new home, all the while working full time and learning the ropes of the new job and location.

The three of us are close, but I figured there would be less phone calls and visits at least for a while, so I’ve busied myself with all sorts of projects to keep my mind occupied. But to be honest, I’ve really been missing them! I called them a couple of times, but I didn’t want to bug them. Nothing worse than a “Needy” mama.

So, a couple of nights ago, I was in my kitchen whipping up my evening meal and the phone rang. My caller ID said it was my son. Yeaaaaaay! So I danced on over to the phone and answered with my most cheerful, “Hi!”

Rob said, “Hi, Mom, how are you doing? What have you been up to?” After we caught up a bit, I told him in great detail all about the projects that had been occupying my time; the cleaned gutters, new backyard privacy fence, the Solar skylights I had put in my living room, and said I’d even had my regular check-up with my doctor and all was fine, except I had been suffering from symptoms of Flob withdrawal. At this point I stopped talking and there was dead “pin-drop” silence on the other end of the phone. Finally about four seconds later, Rob burst into laughter which went on and on. Well, you know how contagious laughter is. I started laughing, too. Pretty soon all three of were laughing.

Rob told me that when I said “Flob” withdrawal, he was frantically trying to figure out what the heck I was talking about. During his thought process he turned and looked at Florence and she had this subtle, deadpan smile on her face. He suddenly realized what I meant. FLOB was a combination of her name and his. I’m usually better as an audience participant, but every now and then, I come up with a perfect zinger. The three of us enjoyed another few seconds of laughter and when we eventually hung up, my heart was cured. At least until next time.

 

Coco Ihle is the author of SHE HAD TO KNOW, an atmospheric traditional mystery set mainly in Scotland. Join her here each 11th of the month.

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Spring Has Sprung

Spring is definitely here in my area of Florida and the scents of blooming trees and flowers abound.  Orange blossoms compete with ligustrum tree blooms and the delicate jacaranda and my favorite flowers, daffodils and hyacinths. It’s such a happy time of year; one with fresh renewal in the air.

I always thought, mother’s younger brother, my Uncle Rembert, was a bit on the quirky side and I liked him very much. He was a poet of sorts whose words, in style, reminded me of Ogden Nash or Willard R. Espy or Dr. Seuss. He was one of those people who always seemed happy. There was even a bounce in his step. He loved words, especially funny ones, and he loved playing with them.

When I was in school, I learned a little about figures of speech in English class. Words like alliteration, anaphora, euphemism, oxymoron, pun, tongue-twister, palindrome, malapropism, litotes, metaphor, onomatopoeia, simile, understatement, hyperbole, etc. That’s all that come to my mind right now, but I could probable look up a few more. Some of these are more familiar than others, probably because they are used more often, but these terms explain what the author is doing with our language.

I’m not sure my Uncle Rembert knew the terms for his poetry that he called jingles, but he certainly knew how to make them entertaining and unforgettable. I wish I’d had the opportunity to visit with my uncle more during my youth, partly because I might had heard more jingles to tickle my funny bone. Here are two of his jingles; one for spring and one for winter.

Spring has sprung

And the grass is rizz

And I wonder where

The birdies izz.

 

It blew

It snew

And then by jing

It frizz.

 

Dear readers, do any of you have a “tickle the funny bone” poem or jingle too?

 

Coco Ihle is the author of SHE HAD TO KNOW, an atmospheric traditional mystery set mainly in Scotland. Join her here each 11th of the month.

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So Many Men…

I have a good friend visiting, 61 years old, who was widowed a couple of years ago after twenty-four years of marriage. We’ll call her Victoria, since it means victory. No relationship is perfect, but hers was what I’d call a solid, loving one, and once she and God dealt with her initial grief, she decided that with His guidance, she was still young enough to try finding another gentleman with which to spend her future years.

She is attractive with stylishly short, blond, highlighted hair and was a former model, which makes her height about six feet or so in heels. She’s fun to be around with a great sense of humor. She’s never had children and her parents are deceased, so there’s nothing that might present a problem in a relationship. Her only difficulty is she is hearing impaired. Two discreet hearing aids help her most of the time, but sometimes lower sounds are difficult to discern, so talking on the phone is not a good option for her. She has mastered the art of texting and has managed pretty well. Most of the time “in person” meetings with gentlemen are no problem; only occasionally does she have trouble understanding them.

After joining three different dating websites, she is on her 108th date as I write this. Wow! Can you imagine? Meeting one hundred and eight men? I asked her what her general consensus was about meeting so many men; did she notice anything in particular about them. I found her answer very interesting.

She said that widowers seemed to be more positive about meeting someone new than divorcees. Many divorcees had “bitter baggage.” She is looking for someone who has a positive outlook on women in general and for someone who is ready to commit to a relationship that could lead to marriage, and being a Christian is very important to her.

She also said that many men she has met complain about women submitting outdated photos of themselves in their profiles, but she’s found the same problem with many of the men. As a matter of fact, a majority wear sunglasses in their profiles, which make it impossible to see their eyes and they often wear a baseball cap, which often hides their faces and sometimes also hides a lack of hair. Men also complain that they think women just want a man to spend money on them. She has told several gentlemen that she’s sure some men’s complaints are truly justified, but not all women are the same. An open mind and persistence is her way of going through this process. Perhaps that philosophy would help them too.

What really puzzles Victoria are the men who seem absolutely captivated by her and can’t say enough about how eager they are to see her again.  Then she never hears from them again. How confusing!

Well, she just walked in the door and when I asked her how this meeting went, she said, “I’m really not sure. I usually have a more definite idea after meeting them. He seems nice. And if he decides he’s not interested, at least I’ve made another friend. Meanwhile, on to man #109.

Dear reader, if any of you know of any single, tall, Christian men around 60, let me know and I’ll let Victoria know. Send photos, with eyes and bare head showing. 🙂

 

Coco Ihle is the author of SHE HAD TO KNOW. An atmospheric traditional mystery set mainly in Scotland. Join her here each 11th of the month.

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Musings of Hawaii

Rob and Florence, my son and daughter-in-law just returned from their honeymoon in Oahu, Hawaii. I dropped them off at the airport in Orlando and my grandson, Colby, met them at the airport in Honolulu and showed them around, since he lives there. While they were gone, Hawaii was on my mind.

I had visited three of the islands in February, 1989, with my friend, Joe. On Maui, we had arranged to go scuba diving one day. The prelude to this activity was to have a short lesson in the hotel pool to make sure everyone was familiar with the equipment. I was about to find out that Hawaii actually does have winter so, while the air temp may not be cold, the ocean water is.

I didn’t think that would be a problem, though, because in my formative diving days, my diving buddy and I used to break through the ice in northern New Jersey quarries before diving in winter. Hawaiian water wouldn’t be that cold, so… What I hadn’t taken in to account was the fact that I was renting my equipment during this trip. I had always had my own before. That fit me.

The “wetsuit” I was given was not a long-sleeved neoprene affair that covered all but my face like I expected, but a puffy vest that looked like it would fit an extra-large Sumo wrestler. My whole bony little 103 lb. body could fit in the arm holes and as for my legs, they were on their own. No other size was available and there was no way that vest would provide me with any warmth. My instructor ignored my pleas and told everyone to get in the pool. That’s when I knew I was in trouble. Not wanting to seem a sissy, I decided to “man-up” and shut-up. After all, Joe and I were experienced divers. Surely the two other couples, whom we knew had never been diving before, would say something when we all hit the frigid pool water. Wrong! Between them they had several hundred pounds on me.  Joe, being a guy, had more meat on him, too, so I knew I was facing a dilemma.

We all jumped into the pool and learned the vest held the weights needed to help us sink and it was also inflatable to help us rise in the water. Okay. The trick was to balance those two things so a person would be essentially weightless. I was used to a separate weight belt to weigh me down and the air tanks to provide buoyancy, but this set-up seemed easy enough. Next was the face mask. Can you believe my mask was apparently also made for a large Sumo wrestler? It didn’t come anywhere near fitting my tiny face. In the last fifteen minutes, had I suddenly morphed into a munchkin? Uh, oh, things were not boding well for me, but I didn’t want to ruin the dive trip for Joe, so I kept quiet.

To make a long story short, I spent all of my dive time trying to regulate my weight/buoyancy, clear my face mask of water and equalize pressure in my ears. So, my view of the ocean near Maui consisted of multi-sized bubbles obstructing my vision of some fish and coral, while I rose up and down like I was on a seesaw. Joe realized I was suffering from hypothermia when we departed the dive boat and the air hit me. He rushed me to our rooms and I spent a while in a cold shower to warm up, and gradually changed the temp to lukewarm. I was so exhausted; I slept the rest of the afternoon. So much for scuba diving!

The next day we went whale watching and every time I saw a whale surface, before I got the chance to snap the photo, it had disappeared, so I have wonderful photos of water and more water, port side and starboard. So much for whale watching!

The next day we flew to Kauai where it rained the whole time and our helicopter trips were canceled. So we decided to go shopping. I was lucky to find some colorful, thin wooden ornaments of Hawaiian fish that are perfect for my Christmas tree and remind me of Hawaii. Joe and I both bought exotic shells and had them drilled so when we blew them we could call the Hawaiian sprits to our homes on the mainland. And since I had had such a difficult time during our dive, he bought me a pretty dress to wear to one of the fabulous shows at our hotel in Oahu, the Royal Hawaiian.

Some things didn’t work out on this trip, but it didn’t matter to me. The Hawaiian people were so happy and friendly and had a certain spirit about them that I can’t explain. The scenery was spectacular and the food was delicious. I hope I get another chance to go. Meanwhile, I can’t wait to hear all about Rob and Florence’s trip!

 

Coco Ihle is the author of SHE HAD TO KNOW, an atmospheric traditional mystery set mainly in Scotland. Join her here each 11th of the month.

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Filed under musings, Travel

Belly Dancer to Writer

People have asked me how I transitioned from having a twenty-plus-year career as a belly dancer to my present career as a writer. The two seemed so unrelated. I have to admit I had a head start because I spent over fifty years searching for my family after being orphaned as a small child and when I finally found a family member, I wanted to write about it. But in further pondering the transition question, I surprisingly found similarities between the two.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The main hat I wore during my dancing years was as a Belly Grammer. I was hired to surprise someone for their birthday, anniversary, farewell, get well, reunion or event, with a ten minute dance routine consisting of three parts. The first part was lively Arabic music, accompanied by the rhythm of my brass finger cymbals. Then it slowed down for some pretty, mesmerizing veil work and the last part or finale was lively again, punctuated by the clinking sound of my tambourine. My guest of honor was seated in a chair by himself with people in a circle around him with room for me to dance in the middle. During the routine I presented him with a red banner with a gold glitter message of the occasion and included his name and a red rose. I also crowned him with my veil and tambourine during the number. It was good clean fun and became a very popular way for people to honor coworkers, bosses, family members and friends.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

During this time, I attended seminars all over the U.S. and became a professional performer in shows that concluded those lessons. I met other dancers who became friends and I traveled out of the country as well. This opened up trade show jobs and Greek Night events, wedding receptions, gigs in New York and New Jersey in night clubs, fundraising for the Leukemia Society, and as a staff writer for an international dance magazine. I danced for actor Cliff Robertson at a Scottish Céilidh and for Whoopi Goldberg on a movie set and Mr. Winton Blunt, former U.S. Postmaster General asked me to dance in his home for Saudi Arabia’s Prince Turki Bin Nassar. Two military bases in Montgomery, AL, near my home, had numerous events for which I was asked to help them celebrate. I started taking students in my home studio and was asked to teach at Auburn University and later to choreograph a production number for the theatre at Auburn U. I even did a tailgate party in the parking lot at Auburn University before a championship football game. I remember being absolutely amazed I was actually able to find my tailgate hosts without any trouble at the super crowded stadium that day!

Medieval Fantasy Dance

 

 

 

You’re probably getting the idea by now, dear reader, that one thing led to another in my dance career, and you’d be absolutely right. The scope for providing opportunities for dance was constantly changing and growing. In developing a routine for my belly grams I was telling a story through my movements and in some of the other shows, I was following a theme and creating a narrative through the dance itself. The magazine staff writer job and having to come up with written lesson plans for my college teaching stints were most helpful in my development with writing, but finding my sister was the clincher and I started writing a mystery novel involving my search for her. Years later, when my agent found my publisher and my book came out; it was time I retired from dance and start my new career. I can’t tell you how lucky I feel to have been blessed with two careers I loved so much! What about you? Have you had more than one career that you’ve loved?

 

Coco Ihle is the author of SHE HAD TO KNOW, an atmospheric traditional mystery set mainly in Scotland. Join her here each 11th of the month.

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A Christmas So Special

Yesterday, with carols blaring on my stereo, I finished decorating my house for Christmas. Since I started the day after Thanksgiving, and this is the ninth of December, I either have a big house, or lots and lots of decorations. Actually the latter is the true answer. And I’m a whole-house decorator, really into handmade gifts, flower arrangements, garlands and lights galore. I want my home to feel like It’s having a Hallmark moment.

Dining Room

Kitchen

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I still have stockings and ornaments that I made the first year I was married back in 1962. The jester stocking is my son’s. The medieval hunting boot was my history loving husband’s, and mine is a plush velvet French style shoe, and after my mother passed away, I made a cowboy boot for my dad. We had little money in those days as my husband started out in the USAF, but all our friends were in the same boat, so we never knew the difference.

Stockings and Old Garland

 

 

 

 

 

 

In 1965, Vietnam interrupted a year of our lives and while my husband was gone, our son and I managed as best we could. We lived temporarily in St. Louis, MO, and Famous Barr Department Store had a wonderful Christmas area with specialty items not found in other stores. I remember walking around totally transfixed. I decided to splurge $6.95 on a nine-foot garland that had old fashioned lanterns on it. In those days and with my budget, that was a lot of money, but I knew it would look so nice above the stockings I had made years before. Can you believe I have used that garland every year since without replacing even a single bulb? That’s fifty-two years! Fifty-two years of frequent moves to cold and hot, wet and dry climates with the decorations often exposed to those weather conditions. When I put that garland up this year, one bulb didn’t light, but it didn’t matter, it has definitely earned its place in my home forever!

Flower Arrangement

Livingroom

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Christmas tree is adorned with reminders of places we’ve lived or to which we’ve traveled: Germany, Greece, Hawaii, Bulgaria, Romania, France, Italy, Scotland, Egypt, Poland, Russia, and England, to name a few. There’s also a family area with ornaments with the names of my son, his soon-to-be wife, my grandson, me, my sister, niece, and even for my late kitties, Annie and Pippi. Not to be forgotten are two best-friend ornaments, and some shiny plain ones to add filler, color and brilliance. Most importantly, there’s the Nativity ornament and the tree topping angel to represent the meaning of this blessed holiday.

Angel

P1010900

 

 

 

Christmas, 2017 is one of those extra special Christmases, because in eight days my son, Rob, will marry, Florence, the woman of his dreams and my grandson, Colby, will be his best man. Then we all will celebrate Christmas together, eating and singing carols in front of the fire. Doesn’t that sound to you like A Christmas So Special?

 

Coco Ihle is the author of SHE HAD TO KNOW, an atmospheric traditional mystery set mainly in Scotland.

Join her here each 11th of the month.

 

 

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A COMEDY of ERRORS by Coco Ihle

You know how some people are just “funny” accident prone? Well, my son, Rob, is one of those people, but only when he is at my house. I’ve never been able to figure out why, but because of this affliction, we’ve had lots of laughs, and sometimes the mention of a single word will bring forth gales of laughter from both of us.

One such example happened several years ago, but the mere mention of it reforms the images in our minds and sets the giggles into action. And my son has a great way of recounting the story of how it happened. It was dinner time and we were having hot dogs. Rob was helping me by setting the table and bringing out the condiments. I opened the refrigerator door and grabbed the plastic yellow mustard container and proceeded to give it a good shake so the mustard would come out nice and thick instead of runny.

When I looked up, Rob was standing on the outside of the refrigerator door waiting to get in to get the milk when I suddenly realized someone hadn’t completely closed the top on the mustard container the last time we used it and there were continuous yellow stripes up and down my son’s face and one large glob that was slowly dripping from the end of his nose. I absolutely lost it! I tried really hard not to, but the deadpan expression on Rob’s face as he looked at me, left me completely unhinged. I couldn’t say a word. I couldn’t breathe. Tears blinded my vision. A tiny little squeak was coming from my lungs, but I thought I’d never get my breath back and my midsection was hurting so bad. Of, course, that set Rob off, and it was fifteen minutes before the two of us were able to peel ourselves off the floor and breath normally again.

The latest incident was a few weeks ago when my soon to be daughter-in-law, Florence, and Rob came to spend the weekend with me. I had transferred freshly brewed coffee to a thermos pump pot after it was ready and Florence and I were sitting outside on the patio enjoying the morning and our first cups when Rob came out to say hello. I told him the coffee was ready and he went back inside to get himself a cup. Several minutes went by and he didn’t return. Florence and I wondered what was keeping him and I was just about to get up and go inside when here he came. He had that famous deadpan expression on his face again, so I asked what happened. He said he held his cup under the pump pot’s spigot and was pumping the coffee into his cup when his hand accidentally knocked down a wall-mounted mixer whisk that was behind the pump pot and that startled him so he spilled the steaming hot coffee all over the counter, his hand and floor and when he opened the cabinet underneath the sink to reach the paper towels, he grabbed one and yanked and the roll took off like he was rolling out a red carpet. By the time he got the coffee spill cleaned up and the paper towels re-rolled, he said he was ready to go back to bed. He was kidding, but by that time, Florence and I were in tears and gripping our sides, and Rob joined in.

We all agreed it was nice to start a day off with laughter. Hope you have days like that, too!

 

Coco Ihle is the author of SHE HAD TO KNOW, an atmospheric traditional mystery set mainly in Scotland.

Join her here each 11th of the month.

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Creative Advertising

Years ago and for over 20 years I owned my own Belly Gram business. That was before the Internet, and service based businesses were traditionally advertised in the Yellow Pages of the phone directory or local newspapers, or even on restaurant paper place mats.

My business was mainly like a telegram service. Someone would phone and ask if I would help them celebrate someone’s birthday or anniversary, farewell, or get-well, at their business, a home, restaurant, or hospital. I had a ten-minute belly dance routine, my Middle Eastern music on a boom box, and I traveled to wherever the party was, met that person in charge, who told me what my guest-of-honor looked like, where he (or she) was located, and I showed them which button to press on my music when they had their guest-of-honor in place. When I heard my music start, that was my cue to enter the room.

The first part of my routine was fun and lively and I circled the room set aside for me to dance in and zoomed in on my “victim”-er guest-of-honor. Then I had a lovely slow section of music in which I wrapped my veil around his head and presented him with a red velvet banner with his name and “Happy Birthday” (or whatever the occasion was), and the last part was fast again and I used my tambourine which ended up on my “victim’s” head on top of the veil so he appeared Middle Eastern. My aim was to make my guest-of-honor feel special that someone valued them enough to arrange a party and to hire me to help them celebrate the occasion. Although I didn’t take myself too seriously, I certainly did take my job seriously and enjoyed it until I retired from dance. I also did longer shows for groups like the Shriner’s, Greek nights, trade shows, etc.

I said all that to give you, dear reader, an idea what the service was about. The advertising that was most successful over the years was “word of mouth” with the Yellow Pages ad coming in second. But occasionally, I had to think outside the box, so to speak. I approached restaurant owners/managers to do party room birthdays for groups as well as individual birthday events. I spoke with an outdoor amphitheater management about my work and also our local Shakespeare Theatre, a football stadium for tailgate parties, night clubs for special entertainment nights. An events coordinator hired me to perform in national trade shows at  different resorts. The Leukemia Society asked me to become a fund raiser for their Celebrity Waiter’s Luncheons, which I did for ten years. I did military parties and shows on military bases and even a few Scottish céilidh events in a tartan costume. And, one of the Scottish events turned into a performance for the Finance Minister of Saudi Arabia. Several movie companies came to our town and I was hired for actor’s and producer’s birthdays. I could go on and on, but the idea I’m trying to get across is thinking outside the box for whatever it is you are interested in promoting.

I remember shortly before I retired from dance, my husband came home and told me he was in a local drug store looking at the greeting cards and he left my business card in several of the categories. I had to laugh. Apparently, I had him thinking outside the box, too!

Now I’m an author and advertising is different. And it isn’t. For one thing we have the Internet, but we still need to think outside the box. I’ve blogged and guest blogged, networked at conferences and conventions, made wearable book-cover pins, given talks and signings at libraries, etc. Authors, do you have some ideas to share on thinking-out-of-the-box advertising?

 

Coco Ihle is the author of SHE HAD TO KNOW, an atmospheric traditional mystery set mainly in Scotland.

Join her here each 11th of the month.

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Masks from Travels

I guess most of us collect souvenirs when we travel and I’m guilty of that, as well. Along with photographs and pamphlets or coffee table books and gifts for friends, I also like to try to find a mask or face from each place I visit. I’ve been lucky over the years to be able to find the faces I’ve gathered together for a wall in my music room, especially since the places have been so diversified.

Mask Wall

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

For instance, one mask came from Branson, Missouri, here in the U.S. and next to it is a mask from the Isle of Malta and below it is one from Tulum, Mexico. Then there is a rendition of the death mask of Agamemnon, the King of Mycenae from 1550-1500 B.C.E. that I bought in Greece and below that a shell mask from Tarpon Springs, Florida, or a face of Vlad the Impaler from Transylvania, Romania near a classic Greek face from Athens. There’s a hand carved wooden mask from Bavaria and not far from it is a clay face from a craft fair in Montgomery, Alabama.

Malta Mask

Branson Face

 

All the faces have memories associated with them either of the place in which I purchased them or of the people I met along the way, so as I look around my home, I can relive those fond memories of my travels and of the wonderful friendships I’ve made throughout the years.

Tulum Mask

Agamemnon

 

Classic Greek

Mexico

Shell Florida

P1020555

 

I’d love to hear if you are a collector and if so, what do you like to collect? Do you have a regular place for your items? If so, are they where you see them and remember your experiences associated with them?

 

 

Coco Ihle is the author of SHE HAD TO KNOW, an atmospheric traditional mystery set mainly in Scotland. Join her here each 11th of the month.

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Talking Trash

Do you have the new automated trash pick-up service in your neighborhood in which each trash container left at the curb gets completely automatically lifted, emptied and crushed, with only the truck’s driver present? No more three man trash guy teams; two for gathering and emptying and one for driving the truck? Well this service started here a few months ago and, call me old fashioned, but I miss my guys I waved to each week, and I worry about how many lost their jobs in the name of modern efficiency.

Homeowners here in my town received advance notice that one new trash receptacle would be delivered to each household and a schedule of pick-up days would be included along with the additional schedule for items for recycling. When my new container arrived, I couldn’t believe my eyes. It was huge! A gargantuan, blue, heavy, plastic, wheeled, garbage can that could comfortably hold several of me inside, it had a handle across the top rear surface so one could tilt it back on its wheels and roll it to the curb. I pulled out my yardstick and measured it: 30” x 30”x 45” deep, it came up to just below my shoulders. Maybe for a family of five or seven, it would be adequate with the two times a week pick-up schedule, but for me, that was WAY over the top! And my poor little 100 year old next door neighbor wouldn’t be able to get it to the curb at all since she used a walker. I solved that problem by putting them both out at the same time.

That got me to thinking, though, about when I lived in Germany. We had garbage pick-up once a week and the container we had was one small circular can approximately 15” wide at the top, tapering some to the bottom, and it was about 35” tall. I have no idea how other larger families managed. It was tough for us, three people. The main problem we had was the American packaging of the products we bought at the military base. We Americans love to put lots of packaging around small objects to fool ourselves into thinking we’re getting more for our money. We often don’t bother to flatten or break down boxes that things come in, either, because here in the U.S. there aren’t always restrictions about this. We’re a large country with the room, we think.

It’s actually rather comical watching me with American packaging even today, all these years later. For instance, I buy my orange juice in a half-gallon waxy cardboard container and when it is empty, I squeeze it in the middle with my fingers and then step on it to fold up the bottom and down the top, and while I’m stepping on it I reach down and screw the top back on the carton so no air can expand it even a smidge. Only if it is perfectly flat will it see the dark interior of my garbage can. I’ve caught my son looking at me with that, “Are you out of your mind?” look, complete with matching grin.

Now, I put my perfectly flat trash out once every three weeks unless an odor requires it go out sooner. I’m one person, I don’t generate much trash, but when I do, it’s FLAT!

 

Coco Ihle is the author of SHE HAD TO KNOW, an atmospheric traditional mystery set mainly in Scotland.

Join her here each 11th of the month.

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