Mimi Time is happy.

"Happy horses make you happy too."
“Happy horses make you happy too.”

I am happy. Mimi Time is happy. I am Mimi Time.

Update: Cat better. Found a nice place to live and work part-time. Moving to a horse stable. Becoming the horse-girl I always wanted to be.

After all the depressing news about my cat having to wear a raincoat collar and having to be stitched up again, I thought it is time to write about something nice too. I have been offered a part-time job at a horse stable not far from where I live now. Part of the pay is a beautiful apartment on the farm and I can take my horse and cat too. Jippiiieeeh. My new boss had read my blog and asked me, if I was interested in working at her stable and-

YES I am.

I feel like the 12 year old girl again, that used to hang out at the pony stable in Germany. Back then I wanted my own pony so much, but unfortunately my parents didn’t think that me having a pony was a priority in life. Riding in the forrest on little fat ponies made me feel so free. Not sure if my beloved Goldpfeil would be impressed by long rides in the forrest as he thinks being ridden is definitely overrated.

So now, after many years (although it feels not THAT long) I get to live at a horse stable, have my own horse and will learn lots about handling and riding horses. It is funny, how wishes do come true, but sometimes they need a while to materialize. So, when I am really old, maybe that handsome Mr.Prince will also finally drop in for a Sherry.

Lovelies, do remember: YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL NO MATTER WHAT THEY SAY- and wishes do come true even if it takes a while (years and years and years…)

Start wishing as the wish-mail might be slow…



Mimi Time is concerned

"If you laugh- you are dead..."
“If you laugh- you are dead…”

I am concerned. Mimi Time is concerned. I am Mimi Time.

My cat Dotty was sterilized last week and today she still had an open wound on her belly. On Saturday the vet wasn’t that concerned, but today she was. So Dotty had to go into surgery again and get stitched up again and I had to pay again…

Dotty had thought having stitches in her belly is not so glam (I have to agree, they were not done that beautifully) and so she took them out herself and was sporting this  big gashing wound, which seemed so deep that it looked like you could see in her tummy what she had for breakfast. (well luckily she didn’t have breakfast- neither did I we were at the vet’s at 9)

After the vet had stitched her up, I picked up a severely drugged cat with a blue collar to prevent her to take out the new stitches.She stumbled over the cape and got trapped in it straight away. Luckily I don’t have a full time job, as I had to run after the cat to save her from her  entanglement in her little cape. She kept getting her paws stuck into the cape and was sliding across the floor, as it tripped her up.

I hope Miss Dotty takes a nap now, I feel a bit tired too…oh yes she stopped fighting against sleep…psssst.

I actually wanted to organize a new phone today, but I was getting stuck in the queue to buy a phone. And I really wanted to spend an obscene amount of money on a new phone. Finally when I got through, a bright girl picked up and I asked my standard sentence:

“Is it ok to speak in English?”

I guess not. She hung up on me and nobody else picked up my call. Finally I gave up to try to spend a fortune on a new phone. But customer service in Denmark is really depended on if you know the people you are dealing with and if the person  is having a good day or not.

But the most difficult thing for a non Dane is, that the Danes, so used to things in their country don’t tell you little quirky infos and facts. Not knowing can get expensive, when you forget to tick one little box when setting up your taxes online and over sudden you get a tax bill of 50.000 kr (about 7000 in real European money-€) That is why I wanted to speak to a per on and ask questions instead of just clicking on the colorful picture of a trendy mobile phone.

So, a drugged cat later with a raincoat collar, a big vet’s bill, no phone and people from my ex-work wanting to inspect my nearly ex- flat on Thursday. I guess I am not having the greatest day.

But then on the other hand my cat sleeps now, Germany won last night and I just watched “Shopping Queen”- Things could be worse… couldn’t they (HOW????)

But I know, that my little drug-addict cat will never ever go into that transport box ever again on her entire live- so moving will only be possible with lots of cat-drugs.

So my lovelies, all the cat-owners and -lovers out there probably know what I am talking about. If you don’t- just don’t laugh at the blue cat-raincoat-collar. Dotty is a touch  touchy today.

and remember:

YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL, NO MATTER WHAT THEY SAY- even if you are on drugs and sporting a blue raincoat collar…

Mimi Time is proud

“Come and jump in for a little swim- nobody will know.”


I am proud. Mimi Time is proud. I am Mimi Time.

So. We managed. 10 summer houses in one day. One cleaning and 9 inspections.

I have to say that renting a summer house is definitely easier than cleaning it, my muscles ache a bit today, but  I hope to get a bit fitter with time, in Mimi Time so to speak…

I learned, that it really depends on the nationality of the summer house guests, what to expect in the house. I didn’t know, there was a direct connection between nationality and cleanliness. The ranking for cleanliness is a s follows:

1. Germans

2. Danes

3. Other

My colleague for the day looked at our list and lit up, when there had been staying Germans in the house, which we had to check after they moved out, as in her experience the house would be perfectly cleaned (some guests clean the house themselves after their stay). And guess what? It is also my experience now. Although the Danes are following the Germans very closely (I don’t just say that to keep readers in Denmark happy…).

The first house had been rented by a nationality other than German or Danish and there were little cereal hoops everywhere in the house and millions of dog hair in the sofa. Did their child walk around and distributed those little funny hoops all over the house before locking the dog into the sofa? Hiding the hoops in the sofa (with the dog), under the sofa, under the bed and around the kitchen? I was vacuuming and hoping to find them all, as if a new guest would find them before me, they would definitely complain about these colorful little hoops.

While vacuuming away I felt a tiny little bit proud that my people (Germans) are so well-liked by the summer house staff. It is good to know, that we are liked by some.

Suddenly I was wondering if I had this extreme cleanliness-gene as well? And what if not?

But why did the Germans clean the houses to this perfection? I imagined the German Hausfrau cleaning away in their holiday, while her husband Karl-Heinz sat on the sofa reading his newspaper. Is this what they do? I think they can’t have had a lot of spare time to discover the area, as they must have been cleaning the whole time. Maybe Hausfrau Eva got up before her husband to do a bit of cleaning before breakfast, like a little cleaning-work-out. Maybe she would feel lost, without it? It is a bit of a mystery to me.

But back to cleaning…

The weather was muggy and the sweat was trickling down my neck, forehead and back and then I washed the floor in the pool room. The extreme light blue color of the water was greeting me and whispering to me:

“Come and jump in for a little swim- nobody will know”

I restrained myself, but my inner voice nearly won.

Mental note: When I have cleaned enough summer house and Mr.Prince has dropped in for a little Sherry, I will rent one of the glamorous summer houses and have a little holiday. With sauna and swimming and in the whirlpool.

Although when going through the houses, I got a feeling for how many other people have been there before. Sometimes they leave their things: shampoo, chocolate, chewing tobacco in the shower (what???) and razors. And sometimes you can still smell the presence of the last guests and that is not so glam. In one of the rooms it smelled like something big and bad was rotting under the bed- I checked and luckily there was nothing. I was kind of expecting to find something dead down there.

Oh just imagine. Hausfrau and Karl-Heinz get into a fight and she says to him: “Karl-Heinz I have had it with all that cleaning, I am leaving you for a nice Norwegian man, he appreciates me not only for my cleaning.”But as Karl-Heinz  can’t live without his cleaning machine, he kills her and leaves her under the summer house bed in Denmark.

Vacuuming the hair off the mattress reminded me of all the people having slept in that bed. All their dreams and emotions seeping in the mattresses. Hmmm. I guess holidays at home are fine for me too.

We drove all over the area, over dirt roads with potholes so deep they could kill your car and through forests and into summer house colonies (why do you want to be so close to other people, when you opt for the country-holiday???) along the deep blue see with little mini- ponies grazing on dark green grass and my heart was singing: I do like it here.

When we got back to the summer house centre we were greeted by the manager and she anxiously asked me, if the day had been ok? When I said yes and that I would like to continue with the job she was so happy, she nearly hugged me. For the first time I really felt appreciated as a worker 🙂 Maybe she suspects me to have the German-cleaning-gene and the German-eye-to detect dirt, even though I am not sure yet if I do.

Next Saturday I will be on my way to dirt busting and checking cleanliness again. Maybe I will find some more stories and hopefully nothing rotten in the Sate of Denmark!

and lovelies do remember:

YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL NO MATTER WHAT THEY SAY- even when you clean whirlpools.


Mimi Time is scared.

You WILL give me expensive food, or I'll haunt you in your dreams!
You WILL give me expensive food, or I WILL haunt you in your dreams!

I am scared. Mimi Time is scared. I am Mimi Time.

I have taken my cat’s free will to have babies and had her sterilized  yesterday. I tried to explain her, that we girls have to stick together now and that we can’t afford Disco-babies (babies made after a little disco evening…) If I can’t have one, she can’t have 1 till 7 either. The problem with that is, that she now has got something to blackmail me with and cats are very good at that.

In the supermarket I felt her watching me, as I was trying to grab the cheap cat food and heard :

“You WILL give me expensive cat food, or else I WILL haunt you in your dreams”

And guess what? I took the expensive, beautifully designed, little minute package. In the commercial for that exquisite product, the cat-mommy serves this brand in a long black dress and puts a little parsley on the top to make it even tastier for the little one.

Mental note: Must get fab black long dress to serve cat food…

But actually I didn’t go to the supermarket for expensive cat food, but to buy hair dye. For my first day of cleaning inspector and cleaner tomorrow, I didn’t want to show up with my dark-social-welfare-roots. Understandable, isn’t it? You might be cleaning other people’s rubbish, but you don’t want to feel like other people’s rubbish.

Every time I buy hair dye in Denmark, I am astonished. I think hair color is classed as a luxury item in Denmark, it costs €15.


Something that costs about €3 in Germany- Yeah, yeah I know. If I don’t like it I can go back to where I came from- but you lovelies, I don’t get unemployment benefits in Germany either, as I didn’t work there. Who actually said we are one Europe…

But back to hair…

I am wondering, if  Denmark doesn’t know that a girl with dark roots and grey in her hair (obviously not in my case) will not consume as much (you just don’t feel so hot with a bad hair do-less VAT earned, less profit, less taxes, less workers needed), wouldn’t meet boys (if you don’t buy new things, you obviously CAN’T go out) and wouldn’t make Danish babies with Danish men (as you don’t go out and don’t meet any hunky Danes…) and the already small population in  beautiful Denmark will eventually die out…

So there you have it Denmark, do you want your population to grow or to dwindle into nothing? The choice is yours, lovely government of Denmark (unfortunately I know no names of important politicians as I don’t understand Danish TV to personal this):

“Lower the prices for hair dye and make your population grow”

Must dash to apply overly priced hair dye to hair, but first I went to deliver the overly priced glamorous tuna cat food to the little one. It actually looked incredibly tasty. And do you know what? I had to try it- don’t tell anybody…but it looked better than it tasted. Lesson learned.

Enjoy your day you lovelies and remember:

YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL NO MATTER WHAT THEY SAY (as long as you don’t have any dark roots…)

Mimi Time is lost.

Denmark can be so beautiful
Denmark can be so beautiful when you are rich…

I am lost. Mimi Time is lost. I am Mimi Time.

Two years ago I came to Denmark to be a Head of Department and teacher at an international school in a tiny place in rural Djursland and today I had my first day as a cleaner of summer houses. What happened? How did I get onto that elevator down? Actually it took only a split second for Cruella to say:

“We are not renewing your work contract” and another split second for me to reply: “Ah.Ok.Shit.Shit.FUCK” (actually the last two words were said very silently)

Two years of having business cards and a regular income to shit I don’t even speak the language in this country. Ah and by the way nobody told me, that you need to pay into a separate unemployment fund to get unemployment benefits. Hmmm. Nice one Mimi. So I would only get social welfare after I paid nearly 50% of my wages in taxes for the last two years. But I don’t want to be bitter- honestly. I want to see this as an opportunity, as an adventure into a new me and into a new and exciting life. Because I am free and can do whatever I want now-right?

Back to my first day of working as a summer house cleaner.

I went with a bright and beautiful Polish girl to a house with a stunning sea view and we had to make sure the cleaning had been done correctly. Going through the rooms of that house, imagining what the people did here while on holiday. Were they happy? Did they have rampant sex in the beds? Did they fight? Were they laughing when their cat destroyed the chair? (that actually happened) and I thought I am going to like my new job.

We were opening cupboards, wiping surfaces and cleaning under the beds, stuff that the other cleaning girl had overseen. Opening cupboards and finding stuff is exciting. Half used shampoo and a set of razors, which I politely passed on, but then I found a “Bunte” magazine from Germany (I lived in Hamburg before I moved here) and nearly had tears in my eyes. I will read about the rich and beautiful people tonight on my sofa, when my cat has recovered from Bad-mommy-took-my-choice-to-have-babies-hangover. I took my cat’s choice to multiply, as I am moving into a tiny apartment, as the huge 5 room apartment where I am living now is owned by the place I worked before. Well sometimes it is not just a job you loose…

But the new apartment is closer to my horse (yes I am also a horse mommy). Being unemployed and having a cat and a horse as a family is better than nothing, but looking at the financial side it is probably not the best combo. I was given my lovely horse last January as a present. This girl, I had met only a couple of times said to me: “I want YOU to have my horse as I am having a baby” And I was teary eyed and whispered: “Thank you for such a beautiful present.”

And I didn’t know what was still to come…

Typical Mimi. Still believing that having a white horse would increase the chance of bumping into Mr Prince. Don’t they always come on a white horse and drop in for a little sherry? At this point I just would like to add to all the lovely Mr.Princes out there, you are more than welcome to come and drop in for a little Sherry-anytime.

My lovely horse “Goldpfeil”- (though he is silver- how did he get that name???) didn’t find that being ridden was one of his duties in life. When he didn’t want to do something, he just reared (jumped up) and hit me in the teeth. Luckily my teeth are ok, Danish dentist are so expensive, that it makes you cry, not from the pain, but from the loss of your monthly pay check.

But as I like being pushed around bit in my life, I don’t mind paying big bucks for my little spoilt Golden Darling. Might be a past life karmic thing- who knows.

Now I am moving to my sofa and enjoy the glam view before I have to move to that tiny apartment in two weeks. Champagne might in order or a little cheap Aldi version of bubbles. Good night lovelies and remember: