A Fata Morgana - Revisited (1)

photo Britta 

So long it was forbidden ground for me - the lockdown draw a railing around my mobility - I could only go where I could - go. Felt like sitting in a golden cage.

Almost every day I walk about 10.000 steps - but that would be not enough to reach the Charlottenburger Schloss - Google map said: 2 hours walk to and fro - but then I wanted also to walk in the beautiful baroque park!

The Schloss became a symbol, a Fata Morgana, almost an obsession.

Yesterday, which was warm and the air was filled with the intoxicating smell of flowering lime-trees, I got plastered by that.
Got reckless (in a very cautious way: took my unsightly anti-virus-mask - I do have beautiful ones from van Laack, almost an accessory, but they are not so effective), took all my courage into my gloved hands,
- and for the first time since February I walked into the Berlin version of Hades, the underground:

photo Britta 

As you see: not many people here! (I chose a time when people don't have to go to work).
I did not enter the nearest entrance, U Wittenberg Platz, because there is the luxury store KaDeWe, which is open by now and visited by many tourists. I also avoided the next stop, "U Bahnhof Zoo" (a very very bad station even in normal times, and a traffic junction, and a junkie junction..) but of course had to walk a long way to the (hopefully) "more harmless station" Ernst Reuter-Platz.

Only three stops later I was there - "there" means: again a very long walk through Charlottenburg (which I used to visit an acquaintance - the goldsmith Anne Rink - often a costly chat - yes,  yesterday too :-)  - meaning: I had to run back to a bank... and then back to her - but I wanted a symbol of my new freedom.

Then I had to recover from that, which I did by visiting one of my favourite cafés, Café Reet;

... they have the most wonderful Tarte mousse au chocolate - which is not fat, I always wonder how they do it - it slightly crumbles in your mouth in the way cracknel crumbles, but very softly.
Thus strengthened I walked on.
And felt a bit like her:

Minerva - or Athena - a statue created by the Dutch sculptor Bartholomeus Eggers (*1637 in Amsterdam, died 1692) - which stands now in the Charlottenburger Schlosspark.

                               Pallas Athena: goddess of wisdom, strategy and combat. I love her!

(to be continued)

Elderberry (sambucus) for a trial

This is my first try with the new blogger version. 

You see one of the sweet smelling elderberry flowers I photographed in the Netherlands. 

I love elderberry - 

in Germany it was a sacred house-tree. We call it "Holunder" which refers to "Frau Holle" - a figure in Grimm's fairy tales who shakes up the eiderdowns (then it snows on earth), but cares about other housework too. And can become very angry if you don't do it well: look at the fairytale "Frau Holle". 

I remember the scent from my earliest days: my grandmother (the red-blooded one) had a pergola with climbing roses, and behind it stood an elderberry tree. 

I love elderberry cordial, become sick when I eat blue elderberry soup (part of the little stems are poisonous) and haven't tried "Holunder Küchle" yet, where one big flower is covered with pancake batter (hopefully without those myriads of black lice elderberry is prone too!) and then deep-fried. 

So: still something to discover. 

As there will be on the new blogger version, I think. 😀

 

(After) Life on my Balcony

all photos by Britta 

When I came back from the Netherlands, I was in for a tiny shock. Normally the little sons of my neighbours earn a bit of money on their first job ever by deluging my plants. This time their mother had told me that they had to go away for a week,  because her father was sick - but I would stay longer away, so that was ok.

When I came back the air in the big apartment smelled stale. And the sight of the flowers an the balcony: shock!
(Being a people-pleaser, as Tom reproached me recently, I cannot change instantly - Query: do I want to change and become a grumpy old woman instead?  : here on the photos I show you the result of my hard labour AFTER the little turmoil).

"I think maybe the neighbours had to stay for longer - the situation with the father might have turned worse", said the Flying Dutchman (right he was), but I heard it only from far away, already running with my green watering can to and fro from balcony to bathroom, from bathroom to balcony (which is a big one).

The lucky thing was that I had bought some white "pots" from Lechuza which promise to water your flowers for two weeks in your absence. They kept their promise.

The roses in the big pots - no photo here - sulked a bit, but I could coax them back to life (they are not spoilt on a balcony).

The oleander thought deliriously that he was back in Italy - hot air, no water.

Yet many plants in little pots had wilted and died - especially the herbs. I tried to copy the cool Moomin-Mother philosophy: "There had been WAY TOO MANY - anyway."

And enjoyed buying and planting new ones.

So, now I am able to invite you again - come in, please: there are more fine nooks and crannies on my balcony you haven't seen yet - please take a seat, and do you want a glass of wine, or some juice?

Let's enjoy the beautiful view of the evening sky!  Bliss!

Just to show you...that Noordwijk had some stormy clouds too :-)

photo Britta

photo Britta

photo Britta

photo Britta 

PS: I wonder - I have difficulties with loading up photos from my smartphone... did I miss the "new blogger thing"? 

I'm so tired...I haven't slept a wink...

photo Britta

In my head drones the Beatle's song "I'm so tired".

Tired of all those horrible news, tired of feeling like the personification of Anais Nin's title "Under a Glass Bell" because of Covid-19, really, really tired.

I went to bed early - result: I woke up at two o'clock in the morning. Hoping to sleep again - 45 minutes later gave up that hope, tiptoed to the kitchen and sipped a glass of hot milk with honey.

Which makes me think of novels by Barbara Pym where the sleepless spinsters are always drinking Horlicks and hot cocoa.

No sleeping pill has ever passed my lips - and I'd never had one in my house.

I look at the beautiful photograph of papaver somniferum - which I took it in Noordwijk. I know an even paler lilac coloured version of this plant with silvery leaves - and instantly feel sleepier, as "somniferum" means "bringing sleep" - (yes, not everything "natural" is harmless :-)

Did you know that in German prisons it is forbidden to eat poppy-seed cake?
Because it is not possible to distinguish between the results of drug-abuse and the remains in your blood after a big yummy piece of cake.

I remember that as children we were always warned not to eat too much of this cake - and that is not an old-wife's tale: poppy-seed cake contains Thebain, which you earn by using the milk of unripe papaver somniferum poppy-seed capsules. In cake you'll normally find very low amounts, but new ways of earning and processing the seeds can let it soar.

Well -- I'll give Morpheus a second chance. Nighty night everyone! 

Dutch Seaside

photo Britta

This is a picture I took in Noordwijk (as Guusje in the recent post so quickly discovered).

Beautiful weather (changing now):

photo Britta

sea and dunes - 

 photo Britta

... and not too many people on the beach - (the cruisers you see at the horizon have to rest).

 One can dream a bit and look into an almost aircraft-free sky.

 photo Britta

photo Britta 

Sports-minded (sort of...)

A bicycle helmet is seldom looking "smart casual" - and being vain the only way to console myself is: A head bandage doesn't look neither very elegant  :-)

Once upon a time, I was biking Then, a long time ago, I stopped. (The reasons are too complicated to explain here).

But you might know the old saying:

                                                When in Rome, do as the Romans do! 

So, when you are visiting the Netherlands, you might be well advised to cycle too - they do it from the day they can stand on their own two feet. They call it "fietsen", and they look adorable doing it - often you see two or three meisjes (their girls) in a group, chatting cheerfully while biking, but also quite old people peddle determinedly against the strong wind.

They have enviable bikeways (not as in Berlin, where we had this year alone - from January 2020 to end of May - 7 dead bikers - which is "better" than in 2000, where there were 89! - but then: in the Corona-month there weren't many cars driving, streets empty - and we haven't even spent half of the year). I might sound a bit gloomy, but I thought of them when I started biking again, the day before yesterday.

But: I am courageous. I rented a bike - and bought a helmet. The bike-brand is called "Gazelle" -

though neither the bike nor I on it looked gazelle-like (me running: yes. Me on a bike yesterday: definitely not. When my late father thought that someone did something ungraceful, he murmured: "Like an ape on a grindstone").

I have to admit: I was afraid! For me the big black, heavy bicycle was not easy to ride or direct. To get up: Phew! To go on: Whew! 
But I didn't give up - I practised (4th gear on a long even road :-)

And: Skill comes with practise. 
 
                                                       I hope it will...

PS: Have you tried to enliven an old skill lately? Tell me, please, to cheer me up.

An English Rose

photo Britta

My beautiful lovely scented rose, "Gertrude Jekyll" is blooming on my balcony - I am so happy! 

My young student friend Gvantsa said dreamily: "That way our roses in Georgia (Europe) smell."

This rose needs no explanation. For her it is true what Getrude Stein wrote. 

                                         "Rose is a rose is a rose is a rose." 

photo Britta 

PS:
Did you know that in the genome of a rose exists a gen that decides how many petals the bloom will have?
It is called LG3. If you deactivate this gen the bloom becomes as thick as the bloom of a peony - the absolute record in rose-petals, I read in the German newspaper WamS, reached a rose with deactivated LG3 with 517 petals!
In the EU it is forbidden to use GM technology - even in ornamental-plant-selective breeding.

Good so - Gertrude Jekyll, the stern Victorian gardener, might have said.

Outings for the Soul

photo: Britta 

I bought this charming diary (or do you call it an appointment book?) in another life - before Corona.

We were visiting Erlangen in Bavaria - and in a fabulous bookstore I saw it - well, it was already March and of course I had already a "real" day planner - but this was so different, so lovely: inside were many sketches in Fifties style (you can guess that by the polka-dots) - and the price was reduced.

If you want something, you'll find a reason why you need it. 

Or maybe I should say: if I want something I'll find a reason why I NEED it.

Ratio says: "My, my, my - you are reading books about how to throw away all the clutter, how to become a minimalist - really: you are mad!" 
Body says: "Hey, you already have a lot of luggage, think of your back!" 
But Soul pleads: "It is soooo lovely! Inside that shade of very pale pink, just a hue of pink - and those sketches, and wise sayings... I will use it as a diary for "Outings for my Soul".

If you wonder what I'm speaking of:
I had noticed (before I saw this diary!) that I have a tendency to make long To-Do-Lists and work most points off diligently - but as the list is often very long I seldom reach those points that are "merely amusing". Like drawing, reading that profound article in the Sunday paper - pleasant things which I call "Outings for the Soul" which often have to wait a long time because there are those more important adult things like ironing.   :-)

So it was crystal clear that I needed that diary to put down - for every day - which morsels of fun would nourish my soul: a beautiful picture in a gallery, the glittering water of the Spree in front of the colossal Bode-Museum or a little French tartlet with glistening red strawberries.

Well, Leela laughed (the concept of Leela I will explain another time).
Because when I came back to Berlin and started to fill - with my beautiful pen that you see in the header of my blog - and in lilac ink - all those ravishing little things I wanted to do next week -

                                                        Corona struck the whole world.

                                                    Agendas closed. Nothing. Nada.

Well, I am exaggerating, but that what writers do - of course now I had lots of time to draw, (but strangely no time to read that serious article, how come?    :-)  so: I do not complain.
I picked up other morsels to feed my soul - the flowers on my balcony, the birds that come to it to drink water, and so on.

                       But you might agree: I didn't need a polka-dot diary for that. 

World Wide Web

"You cannot read all day long" says this poster at our "Berliner Festspiele" house, near to my home - in normal times they do literary festivals, theater, comedies and so on.
Here they protest that politicians overlooked the importance of culture, because when Covid-19 was discussed other groups were more important, or louder.

I could not write (or read your articles) for quite a long time: I was - fit as a fiddle - in a sort of "double lockdown" - the first was the lot of everyone - the second a special present of Telecom - they should install a new internet connections ("Quite easy! Don't worry!") and then, when they had eagerly shut down my old net (which became unnervingly slow the last months, but worked...) found out that the new one didn't get electricity or whatsoever... and those days I did not find that funny...

But now it works again (knock on wood) - and I am VERY proud about my surprising technical faculties: I had to connect 3 computers myself, two were easy - but the third: my oh my - but I found a solution when the called computer assistant had given up. Yep!

So: in contact with the World Wide Web again.
And happy.

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: