So, a few weeks ago ...

a few of the Ger-Man's work colleagues (who were visiting from distant, foreign lands) decided to give the Caspi-Man a present.

A large box - all fancily wrapped.

The Caspi-Man gleefully unwrapped it...

How, um, ... seasonal.

The Caspi-Man LOVED it!

Later that night, when I went in to check that he was indeed asleep, turn off his light, and straighten his covers, I discovered he had managed to drag it into bed with him. It has become his new best friend.

"Ah, better a blow up Santa when you're nearly 5, than a blow up doll when you're 35!" commented a friend. (!!?)

"THAT is NOT coming to Australia." said my Darlink Sister. "Full Stop."

I'm dreaming of a humid Christmas!

Just like the ones I used to know...

In a mere 2 days we're making a seasonal pilgrimage to the land of Oz, to celebrate Yuletide with beloved friends and family. It has been 3 years since our last Australian Christmas... and there is much I am looking forward to:

-Sun

-Beach

-prawns, moreton bay bugs, oysters, lobster & mud crab

-people who understand all the verses of six white boomers!

-watching rhino-beetles ricochet off ceiling fans

-cricket and the Sydney to Hobart yacht race

- the afore mentioned beloved friends & family

But it must be said, there is something, well, magical about Christmas in Deutschland. The candles, the elegance, the sparkling golden lights, the famed markets, the scents everywhere of cinnamon and clove and evergreen, Glühwein, and the promise of snow.

Not for the first time, I want to be in two places at once! I also want to know (as I select our suitcases) if Santa Clause et al, can be persuaded to employ a drop shipment policy.

Something (else) I'd never considered in raising a bi-cultural child...

Guess which one of the following options the Caspi-Man believes?

There is a man called Santa Claus who will bring him a present!

There is a man called St Nicholas who will bring him a present!

There is a man called the Weihnachtsman who will bring him a present!

There is a man called Father Christmas who will bring him a present!

There is an entity called the Christkindl who will bring him a present!

There is a man called Kris Kringle who will bring him a present!

ALL OF THE ABOVE EXSIST AND WILL EACH BRING HIM A PRESENT!!!

St Nicholas and The Weihnachtsman, catching up for a chat on German Childrens' Television.

(Presumably ensuring they've got their pressie lists sorted and don't mess up by giving the same child the same gift.)

Spring in November...

that's what the locals are saying... and it's true...

Three weeks ago I planted a variety of bulbs in our window boxes in anticipation of tulips and crocuses - come March.

They're sprouting now!

While, it has been grey, damp, and autumnal - the temperatures have been mild... this morning the sun is actually shining and it is predicted to reach 18 degrees. That's almost as warm as Summer.

Never-

put a candle inside your head...

You may end up looking like this:

(Very scary.)

Word of the day:

(der) Schnözel.

English translation: (the) snotty-nosed-little-upstart.

Ahhhh... sometimes the german language can be so wonderful concise, a single word where as it takes four in English.

Aimless Random Ponderings...

that have popped into my head while killing time, waiting for the chimney sweep ... who left a notice in the mailbox saying he'd be coming today between 12 & 3 and I'm actually quite excited because that means I'm guaranteed to have good luck today (because here in Germany it is considered good luck to see a Chimney sweep ) and god knows, I need all the luck I can get at this point on a gloomy, grey Monday...

1.

Why does transparent silicon sealant smell like vinegar?

2.

Is it normal - a few months after BUYING an apartment in Germany, to be overwhelmingly overcome with an insatiable longing that occupies most waking moments (and quite a few sleeping ones) to IMMEDIATELY move back to Australia?

3.

On the subject of Chimney sweeps ...why do the children considered so "naughty" in old movies (usually the ones starring Julie Andrews) that scores of hard-core british nannies cannot tame or tolerate them, appear so angelic and sweet compared to modern youngsters?

Shamelessly Cheating on Catching up...

on my long neglected blog ... by way of some random "FaceBook" status updates that have been made since my last post here! (Consider it a 'cheat's' twitter... and I've not included comments.... 'cause some of them may have reflected badly on me.... sigh...)

August 16th:

PJMel: summer street festivals (it's not just all beer and wurst you know!)

August 19th:

PJMel's off to share oz inflicted english with 20 impressionable German youngsters ... oh the power & possibilities!

August 31st:

PJMel's on countdown til her darlink sister arrives in D'dorf! Only 16 'sleeps' to go!

September 1st:

PJMel; 1st of september and the first leaves have begun to turn ... and a few have jumped branch... how can that be when summer has just arrived?

September 2nd:

PJMel had given a visiting toddler a spoon, and while backs were turned - he fed himself from Olli's cat food bowl... and THEN wanted to go back for more!

September 10th:

PJMel bought gladioli this morning, and now cannot remember if this is a Morrisey or a Dame Edna thing to do? Anyone know?

September 22nd:

PJMel slow cooked lamb, potatoes roasted in goose fat, & contreau pavlova for after..... yummy!!

September 30th:

PJMel it's my darlink sister's last night in Deutschland... :( ... whose bed will The Caspi-Man and Olli invade @ 3am, after she's gone????

October 10th:

PJMel introduced The Caspi-Man to The Sound of Music last night - and had completely forgotten the bit where Maria made lederhosen and dirndl from curtains!

October 13th:

PJMel wonders if there are other 4 year olds that are: "Hungry. Very hungry. Starving!! But just for something sweet and that IS NOT GOOD FOR MY TEETH!"?

October 15th:

PJMel finds childish amusement in the literal english translations for common german terms relating to the female anatomy... eg - "breast warts" (that would be nipples, folks), "mother mouth" (cervix) and "egg ladder" (fallopian tube)... (gotta love those playground bench discussions, huh?

October 19th:

PJMel has been experimenting with polenta... and what a strange substance it is...

October 22nd:

PJMel It's nearly 20 years since THE FALL OF THE WALL .... so we're heading to Berlin this weekend to get in before the crowds! (Actually, we're really going to help MAT celebrate his birthday and other life changing events! CONGRATS MAT!!)

October 22nd:

PJMel' d rather be a hammer than a nail, Yes I would, If i only could, I surely would.... - eeek! it would seem I have an earworm... (bloody Simon & Garfunckel!)

October 28th:

PJMEL was woken by a feeble voice that said "Mama, i've got to kotzen"... "huh? Kotzen????" ... oh...UGH! ... explanation through demonstration... it would seem kotzen is german for "CHUNDER"....

November 5th:

PJMel 's finally been lent the first series of "madmen"- after months of anticipation- and now the bloody DVD player's gone on the blink... :( ... and Bob The (bloody) Builder's stuck in it. CAN WE FIX IT??? (Apparently not, but we know who to blame!)

On reflection...

if your child has had a late night and wakes up tired, grumpy and moody, it is probably not a sensible idea to let him stay home from Kindergarten. No matter how much he begs.

It stands to reason that if he's too whiney and whingey to be at Kindergarten, then he is without doubt, way, way, WAY too whiney and whingey to be at home!

(Yet another lesson learnt the hard way...)

Brilliant things about Germany No.227

The refreshing honesty and lack of 'choice' when it comes to the purchasing of "feminine hygeine products". 'Cause, let's face it - how much choice do you actually really need?

Clearly, german women are not fools to be seduced by packaging when it comes to the marketing of such necessities.

You'll find no 'limited release' fancy boxes in this seasons colours for them. ('Cause really, who's meant to see the packaging?) Here is just the basic 2 or 3 different products, in 2 sizes, no more than 2 brands per store, and, MOST BRILLIANT OF ALL - available in boxes of 56. Practical and economical.

Weather update...

It's been raining, today. A lot.

WTF???

I hereby withdraw any ambition I may have at any stage held to be a dedicated follower of fashion:

Crap picture I know, but see here, the white splotches of paint on these (new for sale) pants? Apparently, they're MEANT to be there! (Also on display for sale were denim jeans similarly adorned.) I repeat ... WTF?

?

I'm sooooooo over the current trend of dressing like hobbos. Never, in humankind's entire history, have people ASPIRED to dress so shabbily. I'm also angry that it's sooooooo very very hard to find un-"distressed" clothing for the Caspi-Man. Quite frankly, he's more than capable of distressing his own clothing, thank you very much. I don't need (or want) to buy it that way.

Clearly, I have some issues...

Day 1 of week 2 of Kindergarten summer holidays...

And may we present the flower, the laid tree, the green rabbit (with carrot), the blue whale, the yellow giraffe-necked creature, red rat and hybrid snake.

Works in Plasticine.

We have also baked, swam, painted, playgrounded (yes, that is too a verb), and thrown more tantrums than all the world's red-headed sportsmen and diva popstars combined. I think we might need an organised summer program... or, perhaps, a responsible adult to look after us...

SCANDALOUS!

Usually, I try to maintain a live and let live approach to life - but I've just discovered something that threatens to turn me into an angry fundamentalist...

IS NOTHING SACRED???

They've made a movie of "Where the wild things are".

I repeat, IS NOTHING SACRED?

(Am a tad curious though how they've managed to stretch a feature length film out of a 20 page book, while in any way maintaining the integrity of the story... UUGGH... how could they? IS NOTHING SACRED? And, what's worse, the Caspi-Man will probably want to see it.)

Feeling masochistic...

After years of procrastination, waiting for a rumoured (but not yet materialized) reciprocal agreement policy, I have finally embarked on what is sure to be the unmitigated torture of legitimately acquiring my German drivers license (gasp for breath).

Yep, I am about to 'swap' my Aussie one for a Deutsch one.

I must point out that the term 'swap' is a tad misleading as, while in essence, the process has me handing in my Australian one and receiving a bona-fide German one, the steps in between involve (but are not necessarily limited to):

-getting an official translation on the original license (35 euro -thanks very much - for a mere 6 lines and 2 official looking stamps),
-an eye test,
-a local first aid qualification,
-studying 1500 road rules,
-being tested on the road rules,
-having at least one practical driving lesson, and
-taking a practical driving exam,
-enduring German bureaucracy (can you imagine????) at each step.


Remarkably similar to acquiring a driver's license from scratch, I'd say.



I have heard many horror stories about this process and I am not looking forward to it. And I'm more than a tad annoyed at the discrimination involved. After all, AUSTRALIA SWAPS GERMAN ONES!!! If I held a license from, say, the UK or Canada (which could be simply acquired by swapping- as in 'no tests' -just SWAPPING my Aussie one) then I'd have no problem swapping THAT ONE for a German one. There is no logic. Unfortunately, despite many years exploring slightly fraudulent options this route seems closed to me.

A jaded friend who has recently gone through the whole confluted process sent me the following message:

"So you're entering the nether world of the great 'Fueherschein fuer Aussie Auslander' rip-off, ey? I wish you luck, inner calm, and the ability to suspend all notions of fairness and common sense."

As I am not naturally blessed with any of those attributes, I fear the coming weeks might be challenging.

Evidence of cultural differences No.354

WHY OH WHY can't super market cashiers here PACK your purchases like they do elsewhere???????

And WHY, Oh WHY do they feel the need to speed race your purchases over the scanner? IT'S NOT A RACE PEOPLE! Meanwhile, I'm stuggling to ensure the potatoes aren't squashed on top of the eggs, the Caspi-Man's not shoplifting Kindersurprises, and scrambling to find my wallet.

I'm happy the cashiers get to sit, but I do miss the packing part of the service.

Feeling wretched...

as I've lost the most sentimental and valuable items I own, in the most ludicrus of circumstances.

Diamonds ARE NOT for ever. They are until they get lost.

And despite registering them with the lost and found office, putting up posters offering rewards, and employing the most dedicated of search teams, they've not turned up... :-(

Brilliant Things About Germany No. 226

That often it can surprise you with the unexpected... even when doing a routine shop at the local supermarket.

Yesterday, for the first time ever I encountered THIS at the cooked meat counter. Apparently it's called "Spanferkel". And it's spit-roasted pig. Where I come from - people tend to spit-roast the other end...

Wickie (pronounced Vicki) & the strong men...

Wickie's father is the leader (chief? president? nominated head?) of a clan of vikings. Wickie appears seasonally @ 7pm on KiKa (Kinder channel) and is hugely popular in our household. I'm not sure who enjoys Wickie more - the Caspi-Man or the Ger-Man. Suffice to say that the Ger-Man's been enjoying Wickie for longer.

In the first episode of the first season of Wickie (produced several generations ago) Wickie is proven to be one of the most intelligent members of the viking clan after winning a rock moving competition against head-honcho-Papa, after challenging his authority.

.

Since then, in every ensuing episode (and there are many), Wickie accompanies Papa and his "strong men" on many viking-type adventures that include fighting and pilliging (but, understandably, not any raping).

A fellow Düsseldorfian based Australian friend of mine, Dr Jo, has recently, curtesy of her 2 year old son, also become aquainted with Wickie. She was MOST impressed. "What a wonderful role-model Wickie is!" She proclaimed to all & sundry. "And the show must have been so ahead of it's time. Pioneering the way for girls."

.

Because in spite of the Vicki name, the 'Dora the Explorer' style bangs & bob hair-styling, and the skirt wearing, Wickie is in fact A BOY. (I had initially made the same assumption until ther Ger-Man set me firmly straight.)

.

Ahh, what can you expect in a country where all the strong female role-models (think Marlene Deitchrich, Barbara Becker) choose to leave, leaving icons such as Heidi Klum for the young to aspire to. To spite having a female leader, for most practical purposes (equal pay, childcare options, discriminatory hiring practices, etc) Germany does have a looooooong way to go on the road to equal rights.

.

Makes you wonder how different it might be if Wickie had been a girl.

Thank you Deutsche Bahn for making me chuckle...

The German Rail high speed trains, or ICEs (Inter City Express) as they're locally known, are rather impressive, and go rather fast... and in every 2nd class carriage they have changing LCD displays, in English & Deutsch, to inform passengers of important things such as the current speed (especially when it hits 300kms/hr), the date and time, up coming stations, and helpful reminders to not forget bags and umbrellas, etc...

but last week, on arriving at the Frankfurt Airport station (on the Munich to Dortmund train), the display said:

"We are pleased to take leave of our guests."

Brilliant Things About Germany No.225

It is very easy, and perfectly legal to buy clinical contact lenses over the internet.

Without a prescription. And for cheaper than what you pay for the "gap" (ie. the bit not covered by private Australian health insurances).

I am sure that this would not be considered 'brilliant' by optitricians anywhere, but from where I am 'looking', it is pretty damn convienient.

Full Moon?

Well, we're back from Oz, over the jet-lag and (almost) back into the routine (that we'd never really mastered in the first place).

The Caspi-Man didn't sleep well last night. He hadn't really eaten much of his dinner,and protested loudly when denied copious quantities of 'bedtime' lollies. He declined a 'bed-time' milk, sulked through his bed-time story, and accused me of being a"BAD, BAD MUMMY" in lieu of a bed-time kiss. (The Ger-Man tried to be supportive with all this- in a calm, germanic, pragmatic manner greatly assisted, methinks, by his being in a 5 star hotel in Munich, where presumably, "bed-time" chocolates are provided on the pillow in lieu of lollies.)

Two hours into his slumber time, (& two minutes after I'd slid into a much anticipated, and needed bubble bath), the Caspi-Man woke, and immediately protested very loudly, that he was still hungry. Very HUNGRY!!! STARVING!!!! In fact, "REALLY, REALLY, STAAARVIIING!!!!!!!!!" I resigned myself to leaving the warm, fragrant water, and decided I did not have the strength to present the "Milk or nothing" option I usually reserve for such occasions, and made the Caspi-Man some toast. Toast, of which, he only had the smallest nibble before declaring himself "Very, very full!" and drifting back to dream time. ..IN MY BED.

Two hours later, & a mere two minutes after I'd slid into a much anticipated, and needed dream time state of my own, the Caspi-Man woke,and immediately protested very loudly, that he was still hungry. Very HUNGRY!!! STARVING!!!! In fact, "REALLY, REALLY, STAAARVIIING!!!!!!!!!" I decided I did not have the strength to do anything other than present the "Milk or nothing" option (usually reserved for such occasions) and then spent pretty much all of the next half hour standing (lying???) by my convictions, untill weariness overtook me and I realised my only hope of getting some decent shut eye was to find some contraband child sedative cook the Caspi-Man some pasta and hope that glutenous starches would take their toll.

Sleep prevailed, infact, we even slept in... and had to rush to get to kindergarten on time. (We were somewhat further delayed by the Caspi-Man being hungry before breakfast, a hunger that apparently only lollies could sate, and the Caspi-Man held out, refusing to even entertain any other feasible option, except maybe, pancakes. Being sleep deprived, and weak, I actually agreed to make him pancakes, with maple syrup (ie. liquid lollies) ... he ate two, and then we hastily threw on jackets and hurried to kindergarten, already very late.

Our route takes us past a bakery. A bakery that sells a croissant-shaped, cake type bread called a "Butter Hörnchen".

"I'm hungry." says the Caspi-Man.

"You've just breakfast!" I say.

"But I'm very HUNGRY!!!" says the Caspi-Man. "I'm STARVING!!!!"

"You can eat your Frühstück Brot as soon as you get to Kindy, then." I say, wondering at this point if he needs to be wormed.

"But I'm REALLY, REALLY, STAAARVIIING, for a Butter Hornchen, RIGHT NOW!!!!!!!!!" screams the Caspi-Man.

"No." I say, quite firmly, while thinking perhaps I WILL worm him...

"YOU ARE A BAD, BAD MAMA!!" screams the Caspi-Man. "Ich HABE GROSS HUNGER!!!!!"
he wails, and there may even be tears, and lots of people are staring at him, and then at me, and I can feel the "Rabenmutter" judement in their eyes. (What sort of person sends their 4 year old, helpless child to Kindergarten hungry??)

Somehow we made it (Butter Hornchen-less) to Kindy, and then, all to soon, it was time to pick him up again.

All seemed okay for the first while. We chatted about his day (and mine) as we walked to the supermarket to do a bit of shopping. Our route took us past the bakery that sells the Butter Hornchens. Today, they even had Butter Hornchens with chocolate-dipped tips.

"I'm hungry." said the Caspi-Man...

Well... Who knew?

Driving in the car on the way home from the beach with my Darlink Sister, listening to rather eclectic mix of '80s music, when on comes the Divinyls' track: "Pleasure and Pain".

"You know," says Darlink Sister, "I always used to think the words were 'please don't ask how I've been getting on' ."

"What? They are - aren't they?"

"No, it's actually - " Please don't ask me how I've been getting off."

Cue one quiet contemplation of the next chorus.

"Well, that sorta changes the interpretation."

"Yep. Does rather..."

Let's learn from the wombats people!

I strongly believe that it should be mandatory for all homes in rural Australia to have deep purpose built cellars (away from the main dwelling which could collapse on them).

Burrowing creatures survive bush fires, as well documented in the Caspi-Man's "Wombat goes walkabout" book.

With the south of the country a hellish inferno, and the north completely underwater, (Australia has always been a land of contrast) we have been blessed to have perfect beach weather...

I've no idea who penned this list-

that my 'total bastard friend' Tamzinite forwarded to me- but I think I know where they're from!

You know you're Australian if:

• You know the meaning of 'girt'.
• You believe that stubbies can either be worn or drunk.
• You think it is normal to have a Prime Minister called Kevin.
• You've made a bong out of your garden hose rather than use it for something illegal such as watering the garden.
• When you hear that an American 'roots for his team' you wonder how often and with whom.
• You understand that the phrase 'a group of women wearing black thongs' refers to footwear and may be less alluring than it sounds.
• You pronounce Melbourne as 'Mel-bin'.
• You pronounce Penrith as 'Pen-riff'.
• You believe the 'L' in the word ' Australia ' is optional.
• You can translate: 'Dazza and Shazza played Acca Dacca on the way to Maccas'.
• You believe it makes perfect sense for a nation to decorate its highways with large fibreglass bananas, prawns and sheep.
• You call your best friend 'a total bastard' but someone you really, truly despise is just 'a bit of a bastard'.
• You think 'Woolloomooloo' is a perfectly reasonable name for a place.
• You believe it makes sense for a country to have a $1 coin that's twice as big as its $2 coin.
• You understand that 'Wagga Wagga' can be abbreviated to 'Wagga' but 'Woy Woy' can't be called 'Woy'.
• You believe that cooked-down axlegrease makes a good breakfast spread.
• You believe all famous Kiwis are actually Australian, until they stuff up, at which point they again become Kiwis.
• You know, whatever the tourist books say, that no one says 'cobber'.
• You know that certain words must, by law, be shouted out during any rendition of the Angels' song 'Am I Ever Gonna See Your Face Again'.
• You believe, as an article of faith, that the confectionery known as the Wagon Wheel has become smaller with every passing year.
• You still don't get why the 'Labor' in 'Australian Labor Party' is not spelt with a 'U'.
• You wear ugh boots outside the house.
• You believe that the more you shorten someone's name the more you like them.
• Whatever your linguistic skills, you find yourself able to order takeaway fluently in every Asian language.
• You understand that 'excuse me' can sound rude, while 'scuse me' is always polite.
• You know what it's like to swallow a fly, on occasions via your nose.
• You understand that 'you' has a plural and that it's 'youse'.
• You know it's not summer until the steering wheel is too hot to handle.
• Your biggest family argument over the summer concerned the rules of beach cricket.
• You shake your head in horror when companies try to market what they call 'Anzac cookies'.
• You still think of Kylie as 'that girl off Neighbours'.
• When returning home from overseas, you expect to be brutally strip-searched by Customs - just in case you're trying to sneak in fruit.
• You believe the phrase 'smart casual' refers to a pair of black tracky-daks, suitably laundered.
• You understand that all train timetables are works of fiction.
• When working at a bar, you understand male customers will feel the need to offer an excuse whenever they order low-alcohol beer.
• You get choked up with emotion by the first verse of the national anthem and then have trouble remembering the second.
• You find yourself ignorant of nearly all the facts deemed essential in the government's new test for migrants.
• You will immediately forward this list to other Australians, here and overseas, realising that only they will understand!

It's been a good day!

In much the same way as Kevie has managed to restore my faith in, and my hope for, the future of my “mother-land”- I would like to thank America for giving us Obama, whose speech had me blubbering, and is helping restore my faith in, and my hope for, the future of my world...

And how cute was that hat Arethra was wearing?

Raindrops keep falling on my head...

because even though we've just had the "Christmas of the Umbrella" (which saw no less than 3 new umbrellas join our household) I still forget to take one with me when I go out.

The sub-zero temperatures have subsided and the magical snow morphed into mush, then slush, and now things are just sodden and grey...

The Caspi-Man & a few of his posse - last weekend.

Am thinking a party might be in order.

The Shopping List (version 1):

Needed to make sure I put it somewhere where I won't lose it... as I seem to be loosing things quite a bit lately. [My black winter beret, phone numbers, and most annoyingly - my memory... have looked everywhere- but it hasn't turned up yet. Bet it's in the same place I put my sense of humour... that's gone missing too...]

1. Eucalyptus Oil.
2. Lucas' pawpaw ointment.
3. BIG bottle of vanilla essence.
4. Vegemite. (Tubes not tubs. Negates butter smear issues.)
5. New Clarks summer sandals (which will NEVER be worn with socks) for the Caspi-Man.

Am sure there are many other things we need. Might have to come back and edit this when I've located my missing memory.

ONLY TWO WEEKS TO GO TILL WE LEAVE FOR OZ!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

One day far off in the future -

the Caspi-Man might be saying: "When I was a child, I had to trudge through snow to get to Kindergarten...."

But right now he's saying: "No Mama, I don't want my gloves on ... I need my hands free to make snowballs that I wanna throw AT YOU!!"

To be honest, I'd choose minus 7, and lasting snow fun anyday, over 5 degrees and sleet...

New word of the day:

Gesocks.



english translation: rif-raf



(bound to come in handy).



Just don't ask how I came by it ...

"On the twelth day of Christmas

my true love showed to me,

that temperatures will reach a high of minus seven degrees..."

Here is Düsseldorf's weather forcast for the next 5 days:



brrrrrrrr. I repeat, brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.

Thanks to the Dutch -

we have frog legs in the fridge, crocodile steaks in the freezer, and industrial quantaties of kangaroo flesh.

It was our first international trip of 2009. (Admittedly - an international trip of just 25 kms! But still...)

There is a supermarket in Venlo, Netherlands, that has a remarkable reputation in these parts (mainly for cheap coffee, Gouda and seafood). It is called "Die 2 Brueder Von Venlo". I am not to be trusted in this store... because it is never the remarkable specials on everyday consumables that catch my eye...