The German Cancellor spends 40.000 Euro per year for a make-up artist - and pays that with our taxpayers money!

 Hi, I'm back again. 

We had nice weather on Sylt, then I enjoyed fine weather in Berlin, and now I am back again in Bavaria. No complaint, but 33° C every day is a bit trying - I most often stay indoors, and walk or go to the fitness studio only early in the morning or evening. 

My bloodpressure and blood sugar are low - that's why I want to get upset and that is easy: 

I read that the German chancellor Olaf Scholz uses our taxpayers' money to try to make him look better - (I think he doesn't need a hairdresser :-) 

40.000 Euro per year! Only for make-up artists!  (1 Euro = 0,85 British pounds or 0,59 Australian dollars, or 1,09 American dollars)

Just to give you the opportunity to compare: 

a woman who works 40 hours a week as a saleswoman in Germany will have at the end of a year's work "30.172 Euro" (averaged, and gross). So she will have to work a little bit longer to earn the money he spends for -- for WHAT??? How does he look without that service? 

But compared to our foreign ministress (female politicians nowadays insist on being called that) Olaf Scholz spends "peanuts". (Though one has to add 510.000 Euros for photographs of him, also paid with our money). 

She, Annalena Baerbock (yes, the one whose plane twice shed all the kerosine, each time 80 tons! into the sea!) needs 136.500 Euros per year for make-up artists and cosmetics. From us. 

One person is better looking and doesn't need so much of our money: Christian Lindner, minister of finance, he only needs 650 Euros - and that only for photos. (No, I haven't lost a few zeros). 

PS: Above you see a photograph I took in Ansbach, a beautiful little town. It is the mirrored outside of a café - a distorting or fun house mirror. 

I prefer the word distorting for what I wrote above - I cannot see the fun, sorry. 

You know that normally I do not discuss politics, and I am not envious. But this, I think, in times of high inflation, is immoral, in bad taste, and scandalous. 

More fun next time - promised! 

" Travellin' (Wo)Man"

 

Dear You, 

it's time to travel for a while. I need new vistas, I need a change, I need world. 

Look at the photo above: it seems ages that I took it at the V&A. 

In front of my huge balcony window the swallows are gathering, still exercising their young ones to fly. Soon they will be gone. 

As I. Only for a few weeks. Then I will be back. 

Take care! 

Yours Truly, Britta

I just have to tell you...

 

Dear You, 

it was such a beautiful symmetry: 

in number, in age and in the way they sat. 

This afternoon I sat on the sofa and was reading a story to the triplets - one sat on my lap, the others snugged closely at my left and my right. 

And when I lifted my eyes I looked straight on three very young sparrows - sitting on the balustrade of my big Bavarian balcony - watching us intently. 

They hadn't just landed to draw breath while learning to fly - they deliberately stared at us for at least five minutes. 

Both young folks looked highly interested at each other. 

It was an unforgettable moment for us. 

PS: The view from the window above I took at castle Caputh in Brandenburg. I am never quite sure whether you are interested in a more detailed portrayal of historic buildings I visited, or if you think that boring - please give me a hint. 

 

A very strange fashion...

 

Dear You, 

I know, I know... it is fashion now, and deep in my heart I should be thankful that it is so ... instead of grieving Highheels (oh my poor back!) - where you needed a man at your side to grab his arm if you walked on the slippery  Jungfernstieg in Hamburg where they had the extraordinary idea to put marble slates as pavement - in a city which has as often rain as London...

Yet I look disapprovingly into the mirror. My skirt is still wonderful and fitting (I bought it 17 years ago in Hamburg, though didn't wear it very often - most time I am a Jeans-type, so practical, especially now with grandchild-triplets).

Normally I never tell if a garment is new or old - I take a compliment and smile. 

But those awful looking comfortable plump shoes... 

I hunted through Berlin for something cozy AND a bit more graceful. Well - at least a tiny weeny bit. 

I found a less ugly version - French, of course. Sort of tennis-court shoes, small, no high plateau sole (the photo is not correct here).  

Happy and comfortable, 

Yours Truly 

PS: Do you remember about ten years ago, when I had those wonderful light white leather ballerinas? By Jeremy Scott for Adidas - they have little white wings at the heel - I floated through Berlin. 

No Fast Food

 

Dear You, 

I am back from Berlin - and have enjoyed my friends and the beautiful big flat, the fine weather and breathed culture in the capital. 

The gaps between my visits are still long - sometimes I float in a feeling of unreality: in the kitchen I grab for a pitcher - and it isn't there, it stands on another board (though I tried to make arrangements in both flats as similar as possible) - I feel a bit alien in a place where I live for more than ten years. So reassuring that I still can enter - do you know the weird feeling when you pass a house in a city where you once lived - and now are standing "outdoors", no way to get in? 

In the Bavarian village I see the opposite way of life - which also has its charms: families living in houses their ancestors built hundred of years before, never moving, and almost all of them know each other quite well and are often related in a remote way. 

Now to the zucchinis above: I planted one on my balcony (escorted by a cherry tomato) - and am happily surprised: too late I had read that you need two of them to get "fruits", but this one seems to "Live Alone And Like It", as Marjory Hillis called her very sweet book. 

The zucchino (shouldn't be that the correct term? - but the spellchecker refuses, having no Italian connections) spreads its huge leaves and enjoys parthenogenesis - with convincing results. 

Yours Truly 

The Song of the Nightingale

 

Dear You, 

when I looked out of my window this morning I saw that the farmers were very busy - and one of them is a landscape-artist. 

The view is changing rapidly: it seems to be yesterday that we saw lovely yellow fields of rape (many fields - rape-oil is in demand now because of the sunflower-oil-shortage). 

In my direct neighbourhood I spotted a nightingale - I am so thrilled, never heard one before. 

When I met the woman in whose garden&wood the nightingale lives, she looked slightly unnerved. "I would like to rehouse her", she said. "That bird is nestling directly under my bedroom and sings very, very long. And loud!" 

"And beautiful", I added, but she hastily changed the topic... 

Moral: "Was dem einen sin Uhl is dem andern sin Nachtigall" we say in Northern Germany - roughly translated: "What is an owl to one person is a nightingale to another." 

(You might say: "One man's meat is another man's poison")

Yours Truly

""The Mirror and the Lamp" (or Change of roles, hopefully)

 

Dear You, 

tomorrow Amazon promised to deliver a book on "Romantic Theory and the Critical Tradition" by M.H.Abrams. In a lovely comment this author was recommended to me - thank you! 

I am fascinated by the title. Makes me think about my life. At work, being a counsellor, I had to be the mirror, as they rightly taught us  - though I tried to bring a little bit of light too. 

At the moment, regardless of how I turn, I feel stuck - you might hear me mumble "Rule 12: "When You Don't Know What to Say...Say Nothing!" 

That stuck-feeling can change soon. If I get more control over my life (do I hear a gigantic laughter in the clouds?) I might put the mirror on a table and - for a while - be the lamp. 

Yours Truly (training hard to become a firefly)