No Gibberish!

At the moment I have a lot of entertainment - and that moment  will develop into a span of at least two years, mildly calculated - because I am writing about entertainment. (So bear with me if I am not always quick on commenting).
It is fun - to a certain degree. It is hard work too.
Sometimes - when my ears finally get used to the Geordie accent of Northumberland that Brenda Blethyn trained for 'Vera' (Blethyn comes from Kent), I have to re-learn: now Dalziel and Pascoe bring me to Yorkshire, or Rebus is waiting for me in Edinburgh.
As long as there are subtitles: no problem. Otherwise: Oh dear! You see this woman with a fountain pen, a pad (without " i-") and a remote control in her hand - STOP! Stop! - what did he mumble?
Thankfully a dialect in TV-series is always more garnish, not the real thing (then I would be lost).
                                                      Ah -watching those beautiful various landscapes I feel my blood tingle: high time to plan my annual GB-Adventure! As always I will visit for 1 month alone a town or city, totally unknown territory, totally unknown people. The last stations were Hastings (want to join the chorus: "Why Hastings?" - it was lovely!), Edinburgh, London. I have to find a flat share again (there daily life is so much more amusing then in a hotel or B&B).
Once a year I test how good I function on my own, how easily I find acquaintences and even friends (and I always did - nobody shall tell me again that the Scots are reserved - luckily they weren't).
Before I find the region that I will go to this year (suggestions are very welcome!), I will make a shorter trip to London: the tickets for the Chelsea Flower Show and the hotel are already booked. My friend Anne and I talked about doing it so often - now it assumes shape.
Maybe we'll collect a small bunch of Rosemary & Thyme  :-) 

Cad (Welsh for fight), mael (Welsh for prince)

Oh no, you're not in Shrewsbury, nor in Budapest - where, as you might know, they built the TV set for 'Cadfael'. These (still) are Britta's letters from Berlin - and as I am writing about a tiny aspect of Cadfael at the moment, I thought: why not take a day off and look what Berlin has to offer from the Middle Ages? 
Above are the ruins of a Franciscan monastry, the building started in 1250, the three aisled basilica in 13th and 14th century, destroyed by bombers in 1945. 
The Fernsehturm (TV Tower) at the Alexanderplatz overtowers everything: also the Marienkirche (St. Mary's Church), built in the Middle Ages when Berlin and Cölln were twin towns. What wasn't destroyed by the war often was razed by the city planners of the GRD - they had not much money for restoring and wanted space and place for cars.

There is ample space now - right in the middle (Mitte) of Berlin (normal rush hour on a working day!): 

Without any hidden agenda about that they try to restore the Dance of Death in the northern tower vestibule of the Marienkirche (St. Mary's Church): 

And if you come to see the Heilig Geist-Kapelle (Holy Spirit Chapel), also nearby, built in 1300 as part of the Holy-Spirit-Hospital, and now surrounded by the Humboldt-University of Berlin, mind that you come on Thursday from 12:00 - 13:00 - otherwise (as I) you have to peep through a little window at the beautiful  'starry sky' of it: 

Very near is also the oldest church of Berlin, the Nikolaikirche (St. Nicholas Church), built between 1220 and 1230, but I was a bit frustrated because today it is only used as a museum. 

Cadfael I haven't met, and, though we have the Berlinale film festival at the moment, I am sorry to say: nor Sir Derek Jacobi (oh would I have loved that, he has such a beautiful voice!). But even that voice couldn't have lured me into the Middle Ages which I see as DARK - I have a very distinct vision what they would have done with a woman like me :-) 

Advice seeking?

"I can't understand him", Husband often grumbled when a colleague had asked him for advice. "He asks - I tell him - and never - never! - he does accordingly." 
I am adviser - so I do understand. Both. No need to follow an advice - for many it is just a way to become surer of their own opinion. Carl Rogers, who didn't give advice, quoted a student, who said (in words to that effect): "I am angry that you don't decide for me. I want an advice. When I follow it, and it doesn't work out, I know whom I can be angry with." And - as any adviser will tell you:  if it works out - it is his own doing...  
In my profession Rogers' was worn thin. I think we have also a duty to deliver information: where you can find it, speak it through, help weighing the pros and cons. Deciding is your job alone. 
But some advices don't become better only because people repeat them. A hundredfold. 
There are books and books and books on "De-Cluttering". 
"Throw out any garment you haven't worn in the last five months!", worse: "Anything that is older then 3 years: give it away!" - worst: "When you buy something new, threw out three other pieces!" 
Why??? 
Above you see a photograph of husband and I on our 10th wedding anniversary. Now: if I had followed that silly adice - and mind: I am only speaking of the second! - and had discarded him after three years -what a pity ...  

In Detention

Last night I had a dream. 
Fräulein Dr. M., my teacher at the Barkhof, a Gymnasium (= academic highschool) in Bremen, visited me. 
Fräulein Dr. M.'s teaching subjects were German and English, and she always has been one of my role models. She was a Lady. Elegant. Kind, but stern. Sophisticated. (She did her Ph.D. in a time when most women weren't even allowed to do their A levels. And paid a price: she wasn't married. Everybody had to call her "Fräulein", a grown-up woman, fortyish. With the arrogance of youth we thought she was "past it" - though we noticed that men adored her. But she kept her private life ladylike to herself. Married later.) 
So, what was she doing at my bedside, sitting  there upright in her absolutely charming cherry red lady's suit? (That dark red suit was one reason why I admired her: it was très chic, it was vivid, not those drab black and grey clothes the other teachers wore. Yes - I was superficial with 16 -- come to think of it: still am). 
"Britta", she said, "your blog..." (in dreams you seldom wonder). 
"Yes?", I said warily.  
"It's off the point", she said. "Look at your heading: If not now, then when? Then look at your last post." 
"I know", I said sulkily, "I wanted to say that when the sun shines but you are too lazy because it is cold outside..." 
"Then say what you mean, for heavens sake! Why did you choose that title, by the way?" 
"Well, I saw so many women giving up because they get older. I wanted to encourage them to accept their age but in spite of it spring into action, make the most of it." 
Fräulein Dr. M. looked deeply amused. "You? You speak of accepting one's age - and never tell anybody how old you are? May I remind you of the incident at ..." 
"No", I interrupted hastily, "don't. Admitted: I am not happy with that title." 
"Ah", said Fräulein Dr. M. "Why?"
"It sounds so - desperate. Like those awful new-age sayings - written in lipstick on a mirror - "Today is the last day of your life" - I always feel as if a gun is pointed at my back. I am a quite happy person, I don't want to be reminded every day of my mortality." 
"Ah", said Fräulein Dr. M. again, rising. "My dear: you are in detention. I give you two hours to think about what you want. Meaning: Keep the header - or toss it away. But stick to the point".  

Delights of Winter

Winter has us in its frosty grip. 

So it is very tempting to sit at home, drink a café au lait and read a book - preferably written by myself - this is a diary from 1989 - a time that seems so far away as summer...  

Well, before I wax sentimental, I fetch my warmest coat and out we go!   

The water of the Spree, which you see above, moves only sluggishly, and the lake of Schloss Charlottenburg is frozen and covered with snow. 

Time to hurry back for a bit of culture: an exhibition about the painter Walter Leistikow - called "The World demands Grunewald of me".  

http://www.broehan-museum.de/pdf/bildliste_leistikow.pdf

Nice, though only a few pictures are really showing the Grunewald. 

But that's OK - today he could hand the Grunewald to me on a silver platter  -  I'd prefer a cappuccino in my favourite café... 

"Too much of a good thing can be wonderful"

As you all know through my (more or less late) blogs - 'You are Witty and Pretty', 'Britta's Happiness of the Day' and 'Gardening in High Heels' - I am not always dishing out light fare.
So - this blog will be substantial, nourishing and yet: sublime.
I'm talking of - yeah, you've guessed it by now: CHOCOLATE.
Last week I emerged from the bottom of my MSP (Monumental Secret Project). (For that moment) I just had enough. So out I went. Took the underground to Gendarmenmarkt. Looked into the shopwindows of http://www.fassbender-rausch.com/manufaktur.html  . Another woman did the same - we grinned at each other, and went inside, talked a bit about fashion. She was from London. And then we looked into the shopwindows again. From inside out.

I am not sure whether you can see on the pictures that here the Gedächtniskirche and the Brandenburger Tor are made entirely from chocolate (and cookies).  Absurd. Monumental. Kitschig.
Like two schoolchildren we looked at each other again, and giggled in helpless mirth. " Eat Art!" I breathed. "Wohahah!", she roared. "Epoch-Making!" .
Before studying at the university in Mainz, after my A-levels in Bremen, I worked for two months in the Hachez chocolate factory in Bremen.
Though normally I chirp in with  Mae West's saying  "Too much of a good thing can be wonderful", I didn't after being allowed to eat as much chocolate as we wanted. After three days we didn't want any more...
Being quick with my hands I was soon allowed to work by the piece (literally: we had to fill boxes of chocolates - every woman at the production line had a special section of the box). Piece work brought more money. And interesting insights into real life. I learned:
1. Age is relative. Being almost 18 was here extremely old - the co-workers were my age, but had left school long ago and  looked at me pityingly as if I were a 'box of chocolate on a shelf' (not married yet!).
2. I learned that "Non vitae, sed scholae discimus" (Seneca - and no: I didn't quote it wrong!) is utterly true - you might also say: a pinch of experience is worth a peck of theory. Fifty Shades of Whatsoever is an innocent Sunday School book - compared to the graphical visual way those girls depicted their Secret Lives on every Monday morning at work.
3. A pearl of wisdom for life: Things in a different box with different print (and price) are not always different - believe me, dear brand-buyer. From that time on I do - with only a few exceptions :-) - the double-blind-test.
4. If you love something dearly - like chocolate - after a short alienation you will like it again. I do!
Though: in modertion. Because: "Too much of a good thing can be ..."

Desperate times call for desperate measures?

Near our house in Hildesheim we had a Waldorf-Kindergarten. The little children, hand in hand, walked through the park, summer, autumn, winter, spring: always with little caps on their heads. 

When I spoke with a kindergartner, she told me: 

"They wear them to collect their thoughts under their caps." 

Oh! 

Since that day we have a family saying if somebody is really absentminded: "You should put your Waldorf-cap on." 

Now I needed one. Had read Tom Stephenson's post, "Through a Glass, Darkly" - and thought: what does it remind me of? It was a bit different - what was it?

The title fascinated singers like the Eurythmics, filmmakers like Ingmar Bergman, authors as Gaardner - and you find not only one title in each category, but lots. 

But I was searching for something else - and you know, maybe, how bothersome it is (dear Georgie of E.F.B. would have called it 'taresome'), when you pick your brain for a name, or a title - it is like an earworm (don't play Rihanna's "Shine bright like a Diamond" for me - I'll go crazy!). 

But I knew it was music. And suddenly I had it. Speeded to husbands recordplayer - yes, he owns one, new - and rummaged through his records - and there it was: 

                                      "THROUGH THE PAST; DARKLY"  

Now I am content. Can put my cap into the wardrobe. Come to think of it: it is freezingly cold outside - I shall keep it. For a day when I feel very self-confident, because even in Berlin you get attention with that hat. Though: Berlin Fashion Week starts in January, and then everything goes. I shall leave it on a hanger, humming "Shine bright like a diamond, shine bright..."
Oops - seems the needle got caught in the record groove...