Finger Exercises 1: Sleep

November  25th. --- Wake up very early this morning - a quarter past 5. Why? I think, staring into the dark sky of Berlin, no star to be be seen today - Why?  

I might sleep as long as I want to, because a week ago I took my heart into both hands, or better: one, because in the other hand I carried the dustbin on my way down to the cellar where the 6 big dustbins for the whole house stand (the two for plastic constantly overflowing). 

In the courtyard a week ago I had heard steps behind me - AND THOSE STEPS I KNOW! 

The Flying Dutchman calls the owner of these steps "Pantoffeli". The Dutch have the tendency to make everything small and harmless by adding the syllable "-je" to it (a diminutive as "- let" in English) - and the Dutch use it in abundance, living in a small-sized country. 

Pantoffel might be translated to "clogs" in English (though I remember the old English word "pantofle") 

I say Hi and try to put some warmth into my eyes. In daytime neighbour is unremarkable, but at night he turns into a monster - murders my sleep with wooden clogs in the apartment over my head.  

Stomp! Stomp! Stomp! I sit bolt-upright in my bed. Every night, at least two times, at least since a year - yet I cannot get used to it.  At three o'clock it's prostate-time: Stomp! Stomp! Stomp! For me the perfect moment to send out Red-golden Love to all Beings in the World - yet that often fails because I am at the same time busy with incarnating a pressure cooker before explosion. 

To cut a long story short: I spoke to him. 

Very very friendly (as no-one loves to be rebuked). Not his fault, oh no, I say - of course he is a free man who can do as he wants - and nothing to complain about clogs in broad daylight (which is almost the truth), but at night... could he be so kind and spare a HSP like me, a fragile little woman (here I try to hunch my 1.78m  a bit) that stomping at night? Entirely my fault, I repeat, and the fault of a typical Berlin pre-WWII-residential building with beautiful parquet (Query: do I overdo it and sound like Hyacinth Bucket?), and  could he kindly change his clomps to bedroom slippers at night? 

He smiles benignantly at me. Had I but spoken up earlier! he says. I button my lips, because three years ago I had - which gave me more than one year of undisturbed sleep, then he must have discovered his favourite Pantoffel again ... 

And away he walks, rattling with his knight's armour ... can I trust my eyes: is he emanating a weak aureole of Red-golden light?   

Whatever: it worked!!! I can sleep through till 5 or 6 o'clock, undisturbed at eleven, midnight and three o'clock in the morning! Bliss!!!

Starting a Kind of Berlin Diary

I adore Tom Stephenson's blog, and Rachel's and Joanne's and Cro's, and one of many reasons is that they all write a sort of diary. 

I write diaries since I can write. 

The first one (I still own it) is a little vocabulary book sewed (by me) with big stitches in a green & white striped paper cover. I wrote with pencil, and was furious when I discovered that my little sister had crossed out some sentences - she thought a correction of the "quarrel" between us was necessary. 

Since that day I made sure that nobody could get at my diaries - and what I try here on the blog will, of course, differ very much from the private ones I write for myself, though I will give you my personal view of my living in Berlin. 

I am curious how it will work out. One thing is sure, little sister: 

                                                                  I'll do it my way. 

The Knack of Books... And How to Get It (Them)

photo by Britta Hügel

 

In Covid-time I have to pull myself away from Amazon & Co... because as I do not want to shop much, I look into Amazon's offers. 

Yet often The Good in me gains the upper hand:  I call my bookshop - and next day I take a walk and have a nice talk with the bookseller, and she often presents new books, so I get ideas and skim and buy - thus hopefully supporting Berlin's economy. 

But I have to confess that the man I see on an even more regular basis is the Amazon delivery man - he really is a marvel, always laughing and so beaming that one feels the sun goes up - he is from Africa, black, shiny, and full of joy. 

We talk and laugh a lot, and I have the feeling that the world is a good place to be in.  

Which it is: I am so thankful that I can breathe in deeply the crisp fresh air when I finally pull down the mask. That I can smell the special odour of autumn leaves, savour a cookie, see and smell the fine spray when I peel an orange and read a book - so: it is so lovely to be ALIVE.  

PS: Some of you might have noticed that I twisted and maltreated my headline to make it resemble one of the very first films I saw in the cinema (as I am 1.78m tall I could smuggle in very young, a little lipstick and kitten-heels from my world-wise girl-cousin Ragnhild helped ...): The Knack ... and How to Get It, by Richard Lester.. I have it on DVD and still adore it! 

Quarantine through Art

 

Dear You, 

maybe you know this video already. I was so glad when my friend Anne sent it to me! It made my day. 

Hope yours too! 

Yours Truly, 

Britta 

Enthusiasm, Rapture, Excitement...

photo by Britta Hügel

Dear You, 

Recently I read that we need "enthusiasm" to feel alive - and I thought: Yeah, that's IT! 

I have always been a person who easily falls in rapture about something. 

Friends who influenced me were always people with a lot of energy. 

The prototype was Roswitha, as I four years old, calling: "Tom, Didda, tom!" (she was not able to say "Come, Gitta, come!" - - but while I talked like a waterfall, she acted - she lured more timid Me into adventures (come to think of it: I lured, but she acted that out, pulling me behind her :-) . 

And Atie - my best girl friend at school: glowing dark eyes, full of verve (my parents called that "exaltation" - and they might have had a point - some time after we had lost contact because in her eyes I was too "bourgeois" and I really grieved over that deeply - her parents, standing very high on the social ladder, had to start a search for her by Interpol, because she was trafficking cars to Libanon). 

End of October they deactivate the fountain here on the Victoria-Luise-Platz - summer is over - but for me a fountain like that is rapture pure...

  

photo by Brigitta Hügel 

What about you, dear friend: what makes you enthusiastic, full of life, bursting with joy? 

Waiting for your answer, 

Yours Truly, 

Britta 

 PS: The glowing evening sun above is taken through the window of my room with a bay window. 

Setting NO example

Dear You, 

these two guys are from the Ordnungsamt (public order office - with glee they give you a fine when your car parks 2 minutes too long - sometimes I really watched them waiting!). 

The day when the stronger lock-down measures were imposed by chancellor Merkel on Berlin, ordering among others compulsary masks on certain streets - as for example Ku'damm - Tauentzien and Wittenberg Platz - those two went directly in front of me - without a mask. 

Polite but bluntly I asked them: "Why do you not wear a mask?" They waved at the street sign and said: "Still 10 centimetres to Tauentzien, haha!" 

Well - that is Berlin (impossible in Munich!). 

Still a bit angry (but of course not officially complaining - I am no deputy sheriff), I wondered what you would have done? 

Yours Truly

Britta 

PS: Of course I never say something to civilians who do not wear a mask (though I give them THE LOOK) - only when someone comes too near I say politely: "Please - would you mind to keep a little more distance?" and smile (which you can see around the eyes over the mask). I know that not much air especially under FFP2 masks make people really aggressive... and when you live in Berlin... 

PPS: The Look: 

 

How I outwit myself in Lockdown-times (my resolution no.3)

 
Dear You, 

you wrote that you fear to become a couch potato in these lockdown times, and I can understand that very well. But...

photo by Britta Hügel 

To stay fit you have to eat well. 

I eat each day what Gaylord Hauser called so appropriately "Sunshine Salad". 

I am a big fan of late Mr. Hauser (though "big" might not be the right word 😀) - but also a bit lazy: To cut all these carrots, peppers, courgettes, cucumbers, radishes and "all you can eat"! is Zen, meditative - but also a bit of a nuisance, sometimes. 

"Sometimes" begins around lunchtime. 

So here my lockdown rule number 3: 

I do that in the morning, right after breakfast - because I know myself pretty well:  around lunchtime a mysterious lethargy sets in - I just don't do it! 

So I have to outwit myself. 

I take the marvellous glas bowl (you see: it has a lid!), cut all the vegetables into pieces, put the lid on, back to the fridge (I know that I will lose some vitamins on that short run - but honestly: who wants to be perfect? And better 2/3 of all those vitamins than none at all!) 

So at lunchtime I only have to pick the salad to pieces, add pumpkin seed and feta cheese, and my homemade salad dressing 

(If you want to try it: 1 Tbsp Balsamico vinegar, 1 Tbsp Maple sirup, 2 Tbsp Olive Oil, a little dollop of Dijon mustard, salt and freshly ground black pepper, and, if you have, some herbs - lovely - it is the maple sirup that does it...)  And always remember: 

"Vinegar like a scrooge, oil like a squanderer"

Add it 

 - 

"et voilà!" 

Stay healthy, dear friend - and look after yourself! 

Yours Truly, 

Britta   XXX