Up the duff...

How did that happen?

Am very, very up the duff ... due date is on Monday...

It is all quite surreal, really.

A pointless random ponder:

They don't call kangaroos "Springenlangschwänzigentier", so why do they call a platypus a "Schnabeltier"?


der Schnabel: the beak, or bill.
das Tier: the animal.


(note to self: must refrain from challenging The Caspi Man with these pointless observations while he is doing his german homework... deep breath, bite tongue.)

I love a sunburnt country...

 A land of sweeping plains,
Of ragged mountain ranges,
Of droughts and flooding rains... and where they make ads like this... (mmmm...lamb...)

Oh, boy, has Germany changed me...

Last night, I found myself deciding to melt some Schmultz (which is pretty much just pure rendered pork fat) through some sauerkraut to have with dinner.

And it was good...

Kann Kind... (wish it started with a C)...

So, The Caspi-Man has started school. 

  
  

First School Day

I had been anticipating and dreading this day in equal measure. Anticipating? Because, well, because it is one of life's important milestones, right? Dreading? Because, well, because:


a) it means getting up early and to school ON TIME (by 8am), every single school day. 


b) the end of spontaneously heading off on random adventures and holidays regardless of time of year. 


c) it won't be too long before he starts correcting my German grammar.


d) I will be expected to help him with his homework. In German. (See (c).)


d) many other reasons that I cannot be bothered listing... but suffice to say that (a) alone would be enough.


Here is the Caspi-Man's "first day" snapshot with his Schultüte:

 A german tradition - the Schultüte was historically filled with lollies and trinkets to share with classmates and win new friends.


Every time I see one I'm struck by how much they are like upside down Dunce's caps.


These days, the Schultüte is usually made at Kindergarden, and filled with surprises (& of course, lollies) to unpack at home. The Caspi-Man's included an alarm clock. (Have I mentioned that we have to be at school by 8 am? Every day!) 

My Mother-In-Law,  (aka The Schwierigmutter), was entrusted to take the compulsory family picture at the school gate:

Yep... this would be a typical example of why 

she is also known as the Schwierigmutter!

On day 3 of school,  I was confronted with my first dilemma in the helping of the homework.


The assignment? Bring something from home that starts with the same letter as the first letter of your name. 


Ok... that would be "C" ... let's think...

CARROT? 
No, hang on, that would be K, wouldn't it? 


Ok, how about your rubber CROCODILE? 


Oh, K again. 


CAT? Bugger… 


How about... some CHOCOLATE? Oh, wait ... that's Schokolade – “S”, isn’t it….hmmmm… Chillies! You could take some chillies ... 

"That's a doof (dumb!) idea, mama!"

Drawing a complete blank, and with the Ger-Man away, I needed to consult the German to English translation dictionary (and of course "C" seems to be the shortest chapter).

Aha! Clown!

Bugger, we don't have any clown stuff (because let's face it ... they're slightly creepy). 

And then I got to "Computer" YAHOO! 

"You can take your 'Cars' Computer that Aunty P gave you... that's even 2 'Cs'!" 

"Good idea, Mama!"

The next day, at some ungodly and dark hour (ie before 8 am), we are underway to school  and the Caspi-Man says to me, "Good thing we remembered my LAPTOP, huh, Mama?"

Must learn not to leave him unattended with my computer:

Bound to come in handy...

I have just learnt that Nauru, the world's smallest island nation, was held by Germany from 1888 to the outbreak of WWI in 1914, at which point it was seized by ... 

guess which country?

As a general rule-

many Germans like to make fun of their Dutch neighbours for their caravan-ing ways. (In some circles this is a national past-time.) If they're not making fun of them, then they'll be complaining about them clogging up the autobahns during peak holiday times with their mobile homes.

I find this attitude a bit rich when one considers that the Deutsch population supports 4 (yes, FOUR!!) specialist caravan-ing magazines:

Two of which put out additional summer editions...

Random rants and confessions:

This morning, in defiance of my Australian conditioning, I left the water running while brushing my teeth. (It felt very, very naughty.) One thing we do not have here is a water shortage. It has been torrenting down all morning. (I keep checking to see if the Caspi-man is developing gills.)

I think I am turning into a koala. I am sprouting grey, wirey, tufts above both my ears. While this is cute on koalas, it is not when applied to me. Meanwhile - the hair on the rest of my head is falling out at an alarming rate. Olli and I are competing to see who can shed the most... I'm ahead by a whisker ... and don't get me started on those.

I don't want new stuff (especially clothes). I just want all my favourite stuff (mainly clothes, and shoes) to be new again. I am beginning to detest clothes shopping with a passion. If I can actually find stuff I like, it's always a gazillion euros and they've sold out of my size. I could live with this, but casual aquaintances have started pointed out the freys and holes (yes, but only tiny ones) in my attire.

I am appalled by the state of Australian politics... just appalled. It really makes me want to emigrate. Oh, hang on a sec...

Culinary terms, as applied to our household:

Free Range:

Anything not consummed at the table. Can often be found, in a deconstructed state, under the cushions on the sofa.

Calorie controlled:

Any edible substance in limited supply that has to be shared with Papa. 

Locally sourced:

Whatever happens to be currently residing in our fridge or pantry.

Organic:

Anything that moves of its own accord.

Genetically modified:

Any substance provided by Oma that has an effect of „modifying“ the Caspi-Man’s behaviour... (usually, not for the better).

Convenience Food:

Anything located on the bottom two shelves of the pantry or the bottom shelf of the fridge (excluding the vegetable crisper).


Processed Food:
Anything that requires handling beyond the removal of the packaging.

It's NOT brain surgery, I'll have you know...

except, of course, when it actually IS.

In which case - I have discovered that the first thing that you should say to your neurosurgeon is:

 "I want to give you a piece of my mind"

... haha... hmmm...

The Ger-Man recently went and got himself a brain tumour. As far as brain tumours go, it was a fairly good one. It was called a hemangioblastoma, benign, and in a good position for complete removal.

To compress what could be a very long story - here are the key elements:

1)  diagnosed
2)  operated
3)  recovered
4)  better...

We were/are very, very lucky...

Oh, this picture needs a worthy caption...

It is a hippo, and if I am not mistaken, he is packing a bottle of beer, and is wearing what very much looks like a SS helmet:

(And, I can confirm, the yellow road sign behind his head warns of Kangaroos.)

Just to put him in context, here he is hanging with his mates:

We found him prominently displayed at the 2010 Kirmes... and we are still not sure what to make of him...

note: okay, a few people have advised me that the hippos are NOT wearing SS helmets, just standard storm trooper helmets with an Iron Cross... very different animal apparently. But still, I'm quite sure they are meant to be hippos, and that IS a bottle of beer... I stand firm on that.