Spindled and Liquefied

The card will eventually be there, as we know. My love, Ivanečka, picks withered spinach leaves out of a bag of bio špenát. She tenderly passes healthy leaves into the container that has a slicing rotor at its base. These healthy leaves will soon be spindled and liquefied so that we can easily drink their sustenence into our living corpses. This is the way of the morning, or, rather, it is one of the ways of mornings, or, rather, one of the manners of the morning because manner of the morning is much more alliterative even to a mummified menhir such as I.

I sit on our bed in a hotel near Werksviertel im München. We attended this sprawling city beginning in the early hours yesterday for two reasons.

1. We had appointments to view two flats. Formerly, we planned to move our living corpses from Praha to München (as well as Luki’s and Peiločja’s living corpses) because of Luki’s attendence at TUM. We recently discovered, by word of Luki himself, that he would not be attending TUM this year. There was a confusion in the paperwork he had to submit to the university as the instructions on the web were not particularly clear. We shall, therefore, stay in Praha. Happily, I add. Každopadně, we had two appointments to view flats, or rather, we had appointments to view two flats. I prefer the latter wording, as evidenced by how this paragraph began. One was cancelled in the early hours of yesterday as it was ostensibly “rented”. The second was in Berg Am Laim and turned out to be quite impressive to me, flat-wise (as opposed to plane-wise or two-dimensional infinite space-wise). We played our roles as normal, wistful humans hoping to soon find a marvelous place to live. The experience was amusing and quite fun. We then proceeded to walk for several hours under a light and then less light drizzle to view the neighbourhood the “cancelled” flat was in and then to the biergarten we were at our last visit to München.
2. In the evening, a gathering of Germans who either taught Czech (actually, in fact, a few of them were Czechs living in München) or were learning Czech clumped together in a restaurant called Bohemia near Rosenheimerplatz. We entered, finally sat down, and were mildly transported in spirit back to the Czech Republic itself. The restaurant is a small portion of Czechia within the morass of Münich. I even consumed smažený sýr and three Pilsner Urquells. So much for Münchner Helles this trip. Ivanečka is employed by Kateřina, the director or owner or something unidentifyable of a Czech school in München, and this Kateřina was there to direct affairs. Most of the evening, however, consisted of speaking with Czech learners in Czech about each others’ places of residence, travels, jobs, etc. Or, rather, that was what most of my evening consisted of. Ivanečka’s evening had more to do with interacting with her future students and imprinting on all involved that she is the most adept Czech teacher in existence v tomto vesmíru a v každým ostatní.