"Rise and Shine" - Revisited.

As some of you have found out already, I have reanimated my blog "Rise and Shine!" - because at the moment I have so much work to do, that I just have time to scribble down a few impressions - without photos. Just to stay in contact with you and your blogs. 
(And to learn how to keep a text short!) Hope to see you.

High-flying

Dear You, 

I stare at the many posts of you that I have missed. So sorry!
I look out of the window and see that the swallows are back.
I swallow hard.
The last weeks were - wonderous. Unreal. Now it is time to land back on earth (a very appropriate metaphor - can you imagine that I - yes: I! - steered an airplane? A Cessna - and of course with a pilot at my side. It were some of the most glorious 20 minutes of my life - I love, love, love to fly (but will not start taking lessons).
And then I drove through the sunny countryside with a Jaguar Mark II - creamwhite and red leather seats.
Well - and now I'm back to everyday life.
Which is less uneventful at the moment, but beautiful and reassuring too.
The syringa starts to flower, enveloping whole streets into dark, beguiling deep lilac perfumes.
Reminds me of a poem by Gottfried Benn: 

Bar 

Lilac in lathy vases, 
hanging lamps, hushed light, 
and the Yanks go wild, 
when the singer speaks ... 

I have roughly translated the first stanza of this poem (1953) for you - the second one is a mixture of American and German, and maybe I will pluck up courage and translate it on my poetry blog www.burstingwithhappiness.blogspot.de.
Demands the same courage as to steer a plane...

"To swan" and "to front out" - Help please!

Dear You,
my silence - sorry - has to do with my work.
At the moment I am working on "New Tricks" (love it!) - and would appreciate your help to translate this:

Brian: "Listen, if we go in there now, we’re the ones breaking the law. The days of swanning into villains’ houses and fronting it out are over, Gerry.” Gerry: “Yeah. You’re right.” (Turns and enters). „I feel 30 years younger. Come on!“

I LOVE Gerry Standing! (Dennis Waterman).
And I understand what Brian says, but what exactly does "swanning/swaning into" mean? (I think: entering a house - without permission - with more than one person?)
And "fronting it out" - does it mean "to sit it out", if a Chief Superintendant tells you, that that was unlawful?
Thank you!

"Delight"

Dear You, 
when at the start of April suddenly all the many, many fountains of Berlin start to spring up again, you know - well - : it's spring!
Above you see the fountain at the Viktoria-Luise-Platz, two streets from our flat.
The Bavarian Quarter has so many fountains on what the builder/designer Haberland 1900 called 'adornment places' (Schmuckplätze), with banks and trees and flowers and green where people lie on. (Not me in April - can hear my mother still: "Don't lie on greens in months with an "R")
(Which reminds me of Rosemary & Thyme: "After eight months with you, I decided I would never again get romantically entangled with a man who pronounced both the r's in February. (...) She smiled as he silently mouthed the words two or three times.")
No, I promised you literature. So here it is: in his marvelous book "DELIGHT" J.B.Priestley mentioned it as the first of one-hundred-and-fourteen delights.

FOUNTAINS. I doubt if ever I saw one, even the smallest, without some tingling of delight. They enchant me in the daytime, when the sunlight ennobles their jets and sprays and turns their scattered drops into diamonds. They enchant me after dark when coloured lights are played on them, and the night rains emeralds, rubies, sapphires. And, best of all, when the last colour is whisked away, and there they are in a dazzling white glory!" 

(This is only the beginning of a fine description that becomes almost philosophical at the end).
And I will end with another photo of another near-by fountain, the Hirschbrunnen (deer-fountain) at the Rudolph-Wilde-Park:

Hi, I'm back from Bavaria!

Dear You, 
You might have noticed that I was (unusually) "silent" for a short time - no comments from me, sorry - but I was away.
And - being on blogspot and Facebook with my real name, I know better than announcing that I will travel for a week or two - because that might bring to life one of the hilarious advices in Rohan Candappa's "Little Book Of WRONG SHUI":

                                                 NICE TO SEE YOU
                                        Attract visitors to your home
                                        by placing stereo, video and
                                        computer equipment where it
                                          can be seen from the road.

So: everything OK, no burglary, thank God.
I visited Son and Daughter-in-Love in Bavaria - and it was marvellous! This time I took the aeroplane (and in Berlin they even searched me at the airport control for explosives - but that's fine with me) - because with the ICE I have to travel more than 8 hours.
And then I had the great joy to see DiL in action as judge (interesting!!) and son as prosecuting attorney (interesting!!).
The controls before entering the court were even more detailed than at the airport ("Good!", I say as a mother and mother-in-law). They took away my "back-combing comb" with the very long needle-like retractable metal handle (sounds like a description by Hyacinth Bucket), and put it into a safe (right they were!) Taking away a paper nail file might be OK... - but this comb is a real weapon - and nobody at any airport ever cared...
So: soon you will hear more.

Ah, and I am glad to welcome a new follower here on my blog!

Discrimination in Seat Allocation!

Today I jetted over to London. And was a bit shocked. When I wanted to buy tickets for a show in the West End, they told me that I cannot sit together with husband and son. I will be placed in the middle, husband and son have to sit in the last row. Reason: the seat allocation has changed: shorter people are placed at the front, with taller people towards the back.
That might be reasonable for tall people - so it is OK for husband (1.98m) and son (2.02m) - but I with 1.78m suddenly feel so horribly 'avarage'! I'd like to sue. (Discrimination and compensation for personal suffering).
 

Happy Easter! Buona Pasqua! Fröhliche Ostern!

Dear You, 
                                  Happy Easter! 
I told you that each Easter I draw or paint an egg. This year I choose a motive from Winnie-The-Pooh.
Pooh says:              "And that's that. What do we do next?"

Enjoy your holiday - whatever you do next!

Britta 

Rituals and Renoir

Dear You,
I love rituals. (As long as they don't become obsessive).
Sometimes you have to change them - your son has grown-up and stubbornly refuses to run around and collect hidden Easter-eggs in your garden, aggrivated by the fact that you don't have a garden anymore.
Then there are family traditions that the next generation continues (hurray!): the special Biedermeier-Korinthenbrot (currant bread) I baked for Easter is baked by our son in Bavaria now.  

Then there are rituals that stop because a person is no longer there. Very hard for the remaining ones. You have to invent something new, otherwise your heart may break. 

And then there are rituals that emerge by chance, or because you moved to another city. 

Since December I have that wonderful cinema-subscription, which I really use a lot. 

Every month on a Sunday at 11 o'clock they show a documentation about a painter. 

Today (Good Friday is an official holiday in Germany) I saw: 

"Exhibition on Screen - Barnes Foundation: Renoir - Revered and Despised." 

Very interesting - the "despised" refers to his late work, where he was obsessed with fat female buttoms (not utterly rare in old men :-). 

That he was all his life an awful convinced misogynist the critics had to tell me. Not that I care much - I look at his paintings, not the man. 

Well - and my new ritual is: 

after such a film documentation I go to the National Gallery (some days later). And look at the paintings they possess. They had one Goya. And they have three Renoirs (one photo from the catalogue you see above). 

And then I look with "different eyes". 

Nature's Jewellery

When I have time and the weather permits, I take the underground and soon arrive at Schloss Charlottenburg. Here I can walk through the beautiful Baroque Garden - the first in Germany, and copied from Versailles (I wrote about that in another blog post). And everytime I visit the little island, where, very hidden, you find the bust of Queen Luise of Prussia (1776 - 1810), wife of  King Wilhelm III.
Oh no, I'm not a "fan", far from it - though in her time she was so beloved by people that it was almost a cult - (you find justified critical voices too, one could discuss for hours) - but when I come to the bust I am only interested in the way some "fans" decorate her in accordance with the season. Above you see the "early spring-version" - here you see "summer":

Perfect Stairs

Yes - they do exist: perfect stairs! You can stride down in a majestic way - just in the middle of the red carpet, without having to look down anxiously or fumbling for the banister. You can hold your head up high and the imaginary train follows you lightly.
You find these stairs in Berlin's castles, or here in the photo in the Bode museum. Some are made from wood, some of marble
The steps are lower than in ordinary stairs - so the knees of old people would not ache, and the beautiful Ladies could make an exciting entrance.
I love to use them, very, very much - and I am angry with modern architects and builders: the knowledge how to do it is there - but greed and avarice hinders them to use such precious craftmanship.

Should I?

You should, articles in my free Facebook version of Psychology Today tell me, you should erase the word "should" from your mind - that would make life so much easier!

And this is the reason why I sit here in front of my computer (I should could do housekeeping instead, or finish my article on "Softly, Softly: Task Force Police" - but without the inner "should" I wouldn't. To me this "should" is at least as forceful as Mr. Barlow - not to speak of Chief Constable Arthur Cullen...) 

I was so happy that the BBC found - after many decades - quite a lot of the episodes and put them on DVD. I was a bit surprised when I saw it again - so very authoritarian, and the only female police constable so "fresh" and "girlish", that it made me wince. 

I was glad that PC Snow  (Terence Rigby) with his dog "Radar" was as gorgeous as I remembered him! 

Now I sit and think about Baden-Powell's quote of "Softly, softly, catchees monkey." 

Meaning: No flurry - it will work out with patience. 

Are they talking about good housekeeping? 

But for that I have to/ should/ must  will get up first! 

Say it with flowers (the Courtesan's Way)

As the weather is still cold and grey, my camellia sits on the balcony and sulks.
She wears cap and gloves, looks prim and tight lipped, and avoids eye-contact.
I say "Well, missus - than I will visit your sisters."
Meaning: I slip into the mollifying warmth of the conservatories of Berlin's Botanical Garden.

The tropical hothouses I shun: too damp and oppressive the heat there - no, I'm definitely not made for a tropic life, no Qui-hi! for me - but the camellias' hothouse is kept at a pleasant temperature.
Of course: Like master, like man (you can confidently use the female form here): my cammellia and I thrive on praise, so I will tell my homely friend neither of the tallness nor the sheer abundance of red, pink or white blossoms there - it might discourage us her.
Did you know that the great botanist Carl von Linné 1753 gave that plant its name after the Czech
Jesuit Georg Joseph Kamel (1661 - 1706)?

 

Camellias don't overpour you with scent - that's why Alexandre Dumas' "Lady of the Camellias" choose them (in real life she was Alphonsine Plessis) - and as most women she was multitasking: she wore a red camellia signaling her lovers: "Bad time - I'm menstruating" or white: "Hurray - the coast is clear!" 
Hope the weather permits my camellia to come out soon - being perfect the way we are, we walk on a confusing wild side.