Cinemas in Berlin in time of Corona

That's how our Cinema Paris greets us these days:

"WE SEE EACH OTHER AGAIN!" says the red line.

And: "STAY HEALTHY!" the blue.

The Cinema Paris at the Ku'damm is one of the lovely old-fashioned cinemas.
Berlin has 97 cinemas - with 288 film-saloons, and  50.959 seats (in 2017).
What will happen in the future? Will they have to reduce their seats to place people in a distance of at least 1,5 meter?
When will they be allowed to open again?
And how many of the cinemas will survive?
I wish so much to see film-titles in red and blue again!

Happy Easter!

photo: Britta 

                         

In this very strange year I suddenly thought of a line in a poem by Karl von Gerok (I believe that nowadays 1 of 500 Germans might (!) know who he was) - a minor poet of church songs, he lived from 1815 - 1890.
But these lines are beautiful:

" a new hope - 

the earth still becomes green; 

this March too brings songs of larks; 

this May too brings roses again, 

this year too lets joys bloom."

Well, well, well, you might mumble with toast in your mouth and the bitter taste of (orange) marmelade on your tongue, which you wash down with a strong black tea, "well, well, well - I just read that there are not so many larks left nowadays - and yes: roses come, but I saw the first ones blossom now, mid of April, not in May - so: I do not feel good looking at Mother Nature..." 

That, my dear blog-companion, might be one of the lessons we have to learn in these StrangeTimes: 

to care for nature too, because if She gets Corona-sick - then it will be much more awful then now. 

But - you know that I'm an optimist : the lines of Karl von Gerok still ring true. Sometimes, as with easter-eggs, you have to search a while to find them (the joys and the eggs). But they are there. 

A new hope - so: Enjoy Easter, and believe that even this year lets joys blossom!  

             

                                     Have a nice Easter - and make the best of it! 

Im neuen Jahr ein neues Hoffen,
die Erde wird noch immer grün;
auch dieser März bringt Lerchenlieder,
auch dieser Mai bringt Rosen wieder,
auch dieses Jahr läßt Freuden blühn.

Karl von Gerok

(1815 - 1890), deutscher evangelischer Theologe und Kirchenliederdichter

The Importance of Being Earnest

photo Britta

I have to confess that I am at a loss:
in these times of Impending Death, I sometimes feel that it might be inappropriate to write about something so frilly as sweet peas.
Same with irony, same with making you laugh about something (I see a lot these days that makes me laugh - but then I think: What if one of you just was hit by fate??)

I am not heartless, but laughing about minor misfortunes makes it easier to cope with stress.
Horace Walpole, 4th Earl of Orford coined this famous phrase:

"The world is a comedy to those that think, a tragedy to those that feel" 

which he wrote to Anne, Countess of Ossory in 1776 (quoting himself, he had written it before to Sir Horace Mann, but I do not want to bore you: "I have often said, and oftener think, that this world is a comedy to those that think, a tragedy to those who feel - a solution why Democritus laughed and Heraclitus wept.")

I am somewhere in-between: I laugh a lot (you know me), but of course I weep too, and feel sorry for all those who caught the disease or who are concerned about their beloved ones (as I am too).

But then I think: life was always dangerous.
Life was always something we cannot control (though we sometimes think or wish so).
Mankind was always surprisingly good and surprisingly bad - or downright stupid (studying literature gives you a good insight...).

Maybe I live a "small life" - but it is my life - probably the only one I'll ever have. So I will write about what I see - and sometimes that are sweat peas, even in time of Impending Death.
Some times we see ID more clearly, sometimes we are drunk with the intoxicating scent of sweet peas and don't.
And thus I spare you the story of the Zen monk and the strawberry (though I think it is a wonderful, wonderful story - and if three comments beg me to tell: I might. Tell you...).

I wish you all good health, my friends!

Sweet Peas

Last night, when I lay on my fresh pillow case, I thought: "What is that - it smells so lovely!" 

And then I remembered: three weeks ago my friend Ann had sent me the soap "Sweet Peas" - so moral boosting  in these hard times to get a little surprise, thank you!  

I always put soap before use into my linen cupboard, between sheets or pillowcases. 

Wow! 

I am in love with sweet peas from my earliest youth: my grandmother always had them in her garden - simple ones in white, pink, violets and blue -- and they smelt unforgettable. 

When I see a bouquet on the market with huge, fanciful blossoms, I am utterly disappointed when they have no scent. (Reminds me of plastic surgery..) 

On my garden blog I told that I once met a man whose name was given to a sweat pea. 

That was when Anne and I were in England together: as young students we had promised to each other a garden tour when we were 50 - and then we laughed like mad - even the idea: 50!! 

But then there we were: on an unforgettable "Bed and Breakfast for Garden Lovers" trip that we had planned on our own . First we stayed a few days with Wendy who was a juror to private gardens and lived on a manor (yes: we stayed in a manor! Getting older does have some benefits, sometimes!). Well - and her husband owned a factory (?) in which seeds are produced - and among them was a bright red sweet pea - and that one bore his name! 

(Must look up the name...  Getting older does have some drawbacks, too...    :-) 

Anne Ridler: At Parting

 photo: Britta 

Now we must draw, as plants would,
On tubers stored in a better season,
Our honey and heaven;
Only our love can store such food.
Is this to make a god of absence?
A new-born monster to steal our sustenance? 

(from At Parting )

Thank you, Rosemary and your wonderful blog "Where Five Valleys Meet"! 

You quote a line from one of Anne Ridler's poems, so I asked you who the poet was - and thus found a treasure! Born in London 1912 Ridler worked as a journalist and then at Faber and Faber. She was encouraged by T.S.Eliot when he saw her poems. Very late in her life, in 1995, she released Collected Poems - and was made an OBE in June of 2001, just a few months before her death. 

(All these pearls of wisdom I found on "allpoetry.com", and this part of her poem too.)

And before you tell me: I know that tulips have bulbs, not tubers  :-)  

My dear bloggerfriends: We will not let a new-born monster , Co-vid 19, steal our sustenance! 

How to make yourself comfortable Staying at Home

"Keep calm - first a cup of tea!" is in Germany almost a synonym for British mentality  .
I am a worshipper of tea (if you put it mildly - I am addicted, you might say when you see me rushing into the kitchen first thing in the morning - not very zen-like    :-)

Now I am a bit worried about myself.

Under normal circumstances I use a stylish teapot (you see it at the back of the photo).
But suddenly I felt the urge to look for my cozy brown old teapot (and yes, Tom, I know how the English call it!).
So comforting! So soothing! So confidence-inspiring! 
(Could only be trumped by a tea urn)

So my dear blog-friends: Let's drink a cuppa together! 

And: Even black tea is healthy - so: stay healthy, please!

A Study in Pink

Here you see the result of my planning.
My sewing machine stands up very, very high on a sort of intermediate floor (they used that around 1900 as sleeping places for domestic servants - the rooms are very high and these floors are built into the second hall) so I thought it more possible that I break my leg while trying to fetch it than getting corona (I better knock on wood!)
So I sewed one with my needle - but then I went to my Russian tailoress. She opened the forbidden door in a secretive way - we had telephoned first - it much reminded me of tales my parents told about the black market. I gave her a moon-yellow blanket and ordered 14 masks - 7 for me, seven for someone else.
Next day I was in for a little surprise : look at the photo - that was her extra gift for me - I am so thankful - and isn't it cute?

PS: When I sent the photo via WhatsApp to a friend, she asked surprised: "What - you still make up your eyes - even if nobody else will see them?" 
As a woman who managed to paint her eyes even in the teeny-weeny bathroom of a narrowboat I answered: "But I am not a Nobody - I see it!"

Respiratory protection masks

September 1st, 1939. - Enquire of Robert whether he does not think that, in view of times in which we live, diary of daily events might be of ultimate historical value to posterity. He replies that It Depends.
Explain that I do not mean events of national importance, which may safely be left to the Press, but only chronicle of ordinary English citizen's reaction to war which now appears inevitable.
Robert's only reply - if reply it can be called - is to enquire whether I am really quite certain that Cook takes a medium size in gas-masks. Personally, he should have thought a large, if not out-size, was indicated. Am forced to realise that Cook's gas-mask is intrinsically of greater importance than problematical contribution to literature by myself, but am all the same slightly aggrieved. Better nature fortunately prevails, and I suggest that Cook had better be asked to clear up the point once and for all. (...)
She does come, and Robert selects frightful-looking appliances, each with a snout projecting below a little talc window, from pile which has stood in corner of the study some days.
Cook shows a slight inclination towards coyness when Robert adjusts one on her head with stout crosspiece, and replies from within, when questioned, that It'll do nicely, sir, thank you.
(Voice sounds very hollow and sepulchral).


This, dear blogger friends, is the beginning of E. M. Delafield's "The Diarty of a Provincial Lady".
Part Four: The Provincial Lady in Wartime. I love all four books immensely, have read them oh so often - and still have to laugh.

I could now begin to rant about the slight contradiction that our government says that they "have everything under control" and the fact that from January till now they are not able to provide a little piece of paper with two elastic bands at the side - not even for people who risk their lives in hospitals - the admirable nurses and doctors.
But I am my father's child: he survived 24 days in a lifeboat on the sea - without nourishment and water only from the nightly sky.
Thus I think for myself - and I act (as good as I can) : you might guess what the photo above shows.

I wish all of you: Stay healthy, take care!
Britta XXX

With your help I used my sense

I am glad.
Glad for your empathy, for a very good advice, and for having learned something.

Thank you, my brave blogger friends with all my heart for that!

In a Russian fairy tale someone says: "The morning is wiser than the evening" (maybe it is the other way round - but that doesn't matter much, it makes sense in both ways).

I asked myself a few questions. I used my brains. I slept over it. Wondered about myself, especially as I had just quoted in a manuscript for a new book the German philosopher, Friedrich Schlegel (1772 - 1829). He treats hurtful remarks like a sort of unwelcome gifts :

"It is impossible to give offence to someone if he doesn't want to take it."

I asked myself why I am evidently unable to follow my own given advices - and remembered Rousseau: "A signpost doesn't have to walk." The flowers on my balcony are unimpressed.

Maybe I thought anger a way to channel my fear about our "interesting times" - fear for all people, not only the triplets - into another direction?
But that is not my way to handle fear.
I removed my post.

Your kind words helped me immensely - thank you for that! 

I Stayed At Home

Sorry to let you in the dark: I had cancelled my flight to Amsterdam.

We thought it too risky - Schiphol is a huge airport with oh so many tourists from all nations - and though I missed a very special birthday, I am content with our decision.

You know: hopefully age is giving us a little more wisdom (Does it? Look around --- well... I  sometimes wonder...)

So I sit at home. Well - I do not sit all the time - I made provisions for long lonely days not by buying bulks of toilet paper (so I bought some), but in "Soul food":

 

... which means painting with water colour  (I bought more colours and brushes)

Then:

Yep - my fitnesses studio closed. I can do it at home. (though not THAT!)

And: this poster at my entrance door:

to give us all poise and decency and kindness - and reassuring thoughts...

As do:

Lots of spring flowers on my balcony...

Also important:

Something to work my brain... (I have a lot of books too, real ones, not only in the cloud)

I have the following video on Whats-App, but do not know how the bring it here "live":

Hilarious - I have them all on DVD (not in the cloud...) I need humour!

And of course I am not reckless - I take precautions!

Haha - too much - I was overcautious - I cannot drink my coffee!!! I need the proverbial "last straw" to drink it!!!

Seriously:

Take care! but live! Be cautious - but keep your joy of living! Be kind!

Best wishes for you all!   Britta XXX

No Man is an Island...

... entire of itself" wrote John Donne - and we see the truth of it every day now.

Berlin reacts too: schools are closed, universities and kindergardens closed. I pity the parents who have to work - grandparents are asked NOT to chaperone their grandchildren (or other children like those of the neighbours) - because one fears that the old ones get infected and die. The only kindergardens open are for children of nursing staff.

That my fitness center had to close from today on: bearable, I can do a lot of exercises at home - and the staff there gets their salaries.
But what about the students working as waitress in a café: they have to pay their rent. Clubs closed, theatres closed, and..and...and...

We think about services we take for granted: garbage collection, cashiers and so on.

As you know me: even in severe situations I cannot avoid seeing unintentional black humour:
Berlin's bus drivers (poor chaps!) were ordered not to open the front door of a bus any more  -
that reminds me of the advice we got against nuclear war in the Good Olden Days:
they told us we should put a briefcase over our head in case of need...!

There might come a bigger stop to public life. Economy suffers dreadfully.

We have to wait and to hope that it vanishes soon - seems that it does so in China - I hope they tell the truth.

Keep your chin up! Stay healthy - I wish you (and us) that with all my heart.

Stay kind.

As John Donne said: "No man is an island"


PS: NOT kind: President Trump does everything to buy a German research company, CureVac, offering them (and the scientists) billions - and demands that the USA gets the formula (against Corona) EXCLUSIVELY.
Me, me, me... German government tries to thwart that. (Thwart the purchase - they can do nothing against "Me, me, me").

Panic is knocking at our doors

Today I was a bit shocked.
Not about our empty streets in Berlin, the empty stores or the empty tube (nice, even as an older person you get a seat without having to fight about it with a 14 year old...).

Outside you see: old people, men with dogs and parents (one) with a pram.

I came back - feeling like a "Hero for just one of Day,"  - yep, I still walk out in the sunshine, think that it will give my immune system a boost, as my humour  will - though that is on the downward scale by now:
I saw a neighbour from above standing in front of our house. Two days ago he had asked me whether I would translate a letter for him from Netherland to German - yes: I am able to do that now! - and of course I said that I will do that, for free.
Now he told me that it is not longer necessary: their vacation in Mailand is canceled, and their money will be refunded. (Why the letter is in Netherlands I do not know).
Fine.

Then we went inside, to our little elevator.
He said - and hurried two steps up - : "We should keep distance. I go up first!"
Jumped in and I stared at the closed door, and the elevator. Moving up.

I, I, I, - or: Me, Me, Me .

I don't expect - even not from an elderly academic as him - courtesy any more. Women want to be equal - in all aspects - So what?!

But no - not true: I expect it still.
Especially from an elderly neighbour whom I granted a favour.

So I mused a bit about how PEOPLE might act if life becomes even more  dangerous than now.
Mused about my flight to Amsterdam on Saturday, (a big birthday), and a visitor coming by train tomorrow. (He is young, I am not).

Then I thought: "What the heck!" - I don't want to sit in isolation (a little voice in my head squeaked: "You might sit there earlier than you think!" and I said: "Shut up!")

I hope it will.

As I opened my bag to get out my keys a very shiny copper cent fell out. A promise for good luck.

I might need it.

Beauty is everywhere (if you dare to look)

                                                                                              copyright Britt Holland

Ain't that cute?
(I am proud of my photo).

First I wanted to show you how Berlin looks today: empty, void, spooky.

But then I thought: No - I want to show you something beautiful.  

Beauty still exists, and everyone could see it if they would raise their eyes from their smartphone or a foaming-mouthed hysterical newspaper. 

And step outside. Into the fresh air. 

I took that photograph above last year - but the blossoms of that very tree have begun to open up now - that is a very early start, I think. This far it was two days ago:

Chaos, Enlightenment - or just Life?

Small things usually put the proverbial "final straw" on the heap.

I possess (too) many sweaters, and yesterday, when I felt a bit moody, I remembered (!) my cozy lovely forget-me-not -blue one. (Honestly: to have to remember(!) a favourite(!) tells it all...)

That was my first irritation: am I still myself if I'm not able even to remember what I love? 

The second irritation:
I could not find it. (And I am an orderly woman. OK - my apartment is unethically large - but normally I find what I am looking for).
But I didn't.
That made me think:

1) if I cannot find it in Berlin - Berlin, where I happily spend a part of my life

then it might be in

2) Amsterdam (it is near Amsterdam, but that doesn't matter here) - Amsterdam, where I happily spend a part of my life

or, if it isn't in Amsterdam,

then it might be in

3) Bavaria    (as you know: I respect the wish for privacy of son and DiL and the triplets (though they do not care about privacy - they are half a year old now) - Bavaria - where I happily spend a part of my life now.

Seems I lost track. 
Seems - though I love it in all three places! - I lost me (a bit).

The forget-me-not-blue sweater might be just a symbol that LIFE throws at me (Nay: it hides it from me! The cozy lovely thing! My soul-comforter!)

Here you see one (!) result of my deep thinking: blogland has me back.

The Beatles sing "I say hello - and you say good-bye"   (thought that line always a bit irritating -  and prefer the Stones).

And hope you say "Hello" too!

I am a GRANDMA now...

... and very, very happy!

Mother and children are healthy and full of "joei de vivre", zest for life.

And yes, my dear attentive reader: I really wrote   "children".

And not "only" two - oh no:  as son, (2.02m), does most things large-scale - we have:

                                                         triplets!!!                              
                                                  Three little girls.  

                                          I am happy and very grateful. 


                                                             

(This stork sat one evening on top of a cathedral in Colmar - one stop of our holidays in hot July) 

Foxy

When I came to university last week, I saw him at once.
Do you remember one of my old posts about the wooden fox (who then disappeared?)

 I am curious, always wanted to know things precisely.
(Well - why you English have the saying "Curiosity kills the cat" I found out later, under different circumstances - in another Life...)

So: I asked around. The janitor told me that someone had stolen the sculpture.
NOT OK!

Now there stood this one.

He didn't look quite young.  Wiser, white hair over night (well - over a few month).
A fox in sheepskin?

I went and - of course, being me - touched him.
Stone cold.
So: This time it will be much -- heavier --- to steal him!

Gritting my Teeth...

It is so hot in Berlin (I like that, I am NOT complaining) that one needs little gentle pushes to keep the circulation going.
One push into the right direction is this advertising in front of the HUGE KaDeWe. Our most luxurious shop in Berlin.
So - what will our hip Berlin advertisers tell us?

- Will they remind me of my dentist-appointment tomorrow? (Yes, after 8 years of being utterly true I changed my Hamburgian wonderful dentist to a hopefully also wonderful dentist in Berlin - the journey by train is too long, and the fare pretty high).
And: I want to meet my Hamburgern friends from now on without a swollen lip - hope they will recognise me... :-)

- Or: will they remind me that beauty lies in the eye of the beholder? (If so - sorry boys: I will NOT buy that lipstick - thank you, but thank you no !)

- Or: will they remind me of Shakespeare's famous lines :"There are more things between heaven and earth, Horatio/ Than are dreamt of in your philosophy" ? 

- Or are they jumping on the band waggon of "diversification"? Only Germany, I think, can have such an extended debate on putting officially an " * " between our gender-specified words like "StudentInnen"  (Student, der = male; Studentin, die = female - and, being fair: officially and short "StudentInnen", pl - thus demonstrating that there are men AND women who study - and now they fight for the rights of the  third " * " group of transgender people. We are asked to write that into each and every text, dear "reader- * -resse".
Uiiii....

OK - their only aim might be to catch my attention. True: they have it.

BUT......

A Few Days in Tirol, Austria

We were so lucky: the weather in Austria was utterly fine, and thus The Flying Dutchman was able to show me many places where he had stopped with his parents on their way to Italy - long time ago.

The little village... and vibrant nature...

A Wallfahrtskirche that was a bit spooky (inside) ...

But outside the sun and after a good icecream-coffee ...

... the scary impression was blown away... like dandelions ...

...waterfalls ...

We went up to a mountain in Hopfgarten, the Hohe Salve, that is over 1800 m high

...flying lightly with the cable car (if that is the right expression for Seilbahn)

...over huge snow field (but it was hot!) - and then:
                                                What a sight!

You See What You Want to See

When you come back from a holiday - and this was a short one, just a week in Bavaria and Austria - it might happen that you see things in an utterly different way.

At least for a while.

Or you might forget what seemed to be a huge problem before. In the last week I had completley forgotten the chaos in our "Hinterhof" (Hinterhof is how Berliners call the huge backyard - if it looks like ours).

Before I left I thought: that is an invitation for burglars. Then I forgot.

It all depends on the way how you see the world:
pessimists would say: "Britta - I must warn you - that might be the start of dementia!" (Sorry, what did you say? And, by the way: who are you?)
The ones with the rosy- tinted glasses (or the Buddhists, who are no optimists) say:

"You see what you want to see."

So: life is about perception, and finding balance.

Thank you so much, Joanne! (Noragon)

Dear Joanne,

thank you oh so much for the two lovely kitchen towels that you sent me! 

It was a complicated journey for them from the USA to Berlin in Germany:

1. you sent me an email and asked for my address (you had it once, when I ordered a beautiful red scarf from you - but it was lost).

2. You told me about your plans - WOW! - sending those wonderful kitchen-towels to all those bloggers you communicated with - a bit like Tibetian peace flags.
And the towels were a gift!
(First I did not understand this - and wanted to pay, and order some more -- than you explained)

3. Two days ago I got a very strange letter from the German Customs Authority.
They had, they told me, a letter waiting for me,  mysterious and uncleared.

I was puzzled: a letter from the USA?

And than I had the idea: it must be from you, Joanne!

Thus I walked to the Zollamt - it was a beautiful, sunny day - and I found the street, not that far from my home. BUT - the street ended suddenly, far from the house number they had given me.
I asked a lady who said: "You have to walk through the Rudolph-Wilde-Volkskpark, it's on the other side".
Although I have been often in that park, I never had crossed it before.
Stunning!
I saw the old RIAS-Deutschlandfunk- Radio-Station.
And the the Zollpostamt.

Discussed with the officer-Lady inside, who gave me a waiting number, waited, and came then to a very friendly good-looking young guy.

"We are doing random tests", he said.
"Aha", I said. "And?"
"We are not sure what it is in the envelope."
"Aha - but I think I do. Is it from Mrs. Joanne Noragon?"
"Yes!"
"Then I know what is inside!" 
"What?"
"A kitchen towel, emerald green." 
They had thought it was a purchase - I told them about Joannes's project, and he was enchanted.
"You can open it!" I said.
"No, you have to - I might damage something."
So I opened it.
"Wow", he said, "that's really beautiful! But there a two!" 
"Wow!", I said, "how wonderful!"

And I went home, so happy, and so grateful to you, Joanne!

THANK YOU - they are really beautiful! Yours, Britta 

PS: I took some photographs - but till now Google hasn't transported them. But I will no longer wait to send you my thank-you-notes - and the pictures will come later.

Here we are - 2019!

The soft light of the Austern Bank in Berlin on New Years Eve: very becoming :-)
The motto was: "The Great Gatsby".
Later the firework at the Gendarmenmarkt was very impressive, noisy and beautiful, so 2019 was received in style.
I wish that this year brings luck to you, health, love, happiness and the fulfilment of some personal wishes.  Britta XXX

"Old and New" - "Happy New Year"!

"Old and New" - that is how the Dutch call New Year's Eve. 

I like that - and it gives me something to think about. 

Some of you might have noticed that I (megalomaniac as ever) started a new blog - in Dutch. 

I do it to force myself to write a tiny coherent text (though: coherent...mmmh...) 

I started to learn Dutch in autumn 2017 - and really work a lot to grasp it. 

Reading and translating it is ok (at the university we have to read literary texts that a lot of Dutch people will not know); understanding conversations is ok, though one has to listen very carefully, and writing, well... Very difficult: to speak the language, fluently I mean. 

At the university I wondered: in some language courses we had to discuss (the modern method of learning a language - just jump). I was flabbergasted: we greenhorns (some even from other countries and thus with an interesting accent different from our also interesting German accent) discussed in little groups of three or four - and the teacher often was far away in the seminar room, helping other groups smattering... hahaha, that (and I mean the students, not the teacher!) reminded me of the German saying "The Blind leads the Lame". 

Now, Mrs. Hill - concentrate: why "Oud and New"? 

Because all my life I tried to keep my "old" friends when Pomp and Circumstances drove me into other parts of the world (I moved 17 times...) - and I managed that fairly well. 

So: I want to have the cake and eat it (oh yes - not only megalomaniac but also immodest! - though this might be two sides of the same coin).

I want to keep you, dear old friends - and the new Dutch ones.
(And there are many things that connect you - think of 1652 - 1654)
(Not only megalomaniac and immodest but also insolent - which reminds me of a politician... what was his name again?) 

Oh: WOW - Google reminds me - the words jumps up in the right corner of my computer display - "Second Christmas Day - Tomorrow" 

Had I but known! Thank you, Google!

I wish you a Happy New Year - Oud en Nieuw - and "Stay with me!" dear friends! 

Britta XXX

PS: If you are learning Dutch too - or want to make some educated guesses - this is my new blog: www.brittasnederlands.blogspot.com

A very special demonstration

In Berlin we have lots and lots of demonstrations. It is the democratic right of persons to utter their opinions - and sometimes you see 100 policemen protect a group of five lonely demonstrators, and the people wait - passengers on foot and cars - to go further, and sometimes we are not that full of inner peace as Christmas promises...
"No!" I thought yesterday - "another one! Right in the middle of the highest traffic, right in front of the KaDeWe!"
And than they came: hundreds of Santas and angels on motorbikes -

                             WHAT A BEAUTIFUL SIGHT!

I wish you a merry 3. Advent!

Witty...

Since October the new semester at the Freie Universität Berlin - short: FU - has started.
As you know I do "Dutch studies" - the philology of the Netherlands -so  I learn Dutch as a language, but also about history, literature and linguistic analysis.

I love it!

Learning the language comes easy to  me (though of course I have to work a lot - but I enjoy that). Sometimes it is confusing - e.g. when I search for my blog for an English word - but Dutch turns up! (Which reminds me of the fabulous short story Cicerone by Atte Jongstra. He is a postmodern Netherlandish poet, who in that story compares his brain to a warehouse, where the salespersons run to bring him his memories - but they are sometimes unruly - take a long time, get lost in the storeys or the cellar, or turn up deliberately with other items than those he asked for.
Postmodernism wants to show that language or a text is not "plain truth" - every reader puts his own interpretation into a text.
As we all know when we talk to someone, or write something, and are misunderstood. (N'est-ce pas, Tom?)

Arriving at the university on an early (very early) crisp November morning is bliss.

And I am utterly proud (and have to brag a bit about it) that I connected easily with the young students (I was the only silver-back among 22 young people, the oldest (haha) of them being 25, the youngest 18).

That is one of the big nice surprises in my advanced life!

The wooden sculpture of the little fox which you see above - and which I love as a symbol of "intelligence" - has gone. Vanished.
(I will not overdo it - but it reminds me of a book by Cees Nooteboom: 's Nachts komen de Vossen" - "the Foxes come at Night". I hope this one does it too! )
So the campus looks in the early morning a bit void - but still beautiful.

"You just can't get decent help these days!"

...says Walter Matthau - and he is right! 

Shouldn't you have told me?? 

I mean: it WAS a mistake when I wrote in my last post that I was reminded of Katherine Hepburn in "Cactus Flower".
Because it was Ingrid Bergman.
Well, well, well - now I know.

By the way: Look at this, please: 

Pricky

Honestly: I can't remember when I bought my last cactus.
More precise: If I ever bought a cactus. 
I had one or two as a "teenager" - they were very easy to maintain, but my heart was not with them.
In the shopwindow of "Urban Outfitter" at the Ku'damm stood a whole collection - tiny, very tiny - the photo above only makes it appear big.
I stared.
Went in.
(And fretted about my motivation. I mean: A cactus?!? The thought of a movie with Catherine Hepburn made me think even harder - was it a symbol? Do I become unruly, cross-grained, in my rebellious search for the Holy Grail?).

A cactus is a pricky, evil little thing.
In the store I thought them "funny" - and that is a word I learned to become very cautious of in connection with clothes or furniture, for instance. It always means: "funny" only for a very short time - then regret sets in, because most often it is - kitschig.
This one too.
Look at that pot! (Well, I can turn it around, then it is plain white).

What astonishes me most - beside the fact that I bought a cactus - is, that I even didn't buy the one I wanted (a miniature of the huge proud cacti with "arms" pointing up into at a relentless burning sun and blue sky in the desert Gobi...)
No, I bought that little fat one.

Why?
Because I saw that it was the only one (amongst about 50 others) that had little buds.
Pink. (You have to stare very hard to see it).
Sometimes one has to - stare very hard - to find a bud nugget - but it might be worth the effort!