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...

Shamelessly Cheating on Catching up...

on my blog by using random facebook status updates from the last few months... (I think I may have done this before...)

30 March at 22:30

pjmel asks does anyone else remember the song from the Goodies that goes: "String, string, string, string, everybody loves string!" ??? ('Cause that's what's been going through my head- earworm style- except I've replaced the T with a P...)

06 April at 21:43

pjmel ventured out of the house today for the first time this year WITHOUT A COAT! (And I only got goosebumbs twice!) :-)

09 April at 21:18

pjmel wishes beyond belief that she was going

to her Darlink sister's baby shower @ Colmslie Beach tomorrow morning....

11 April at 23:12

pjmel fishmarkets today... followed by late lunch of roast pork stuffed with pinenuts and cranberries... followed by 2 little boys having a wildly fun (& clean!) time in a bath of blue gloop!

17 April at 10:21

pjmel is grateful that the Icelandic volcanic flotsam seemsto be having no impact on the sunshine...

30 April at 22:17

pjmel it's been 3 days since I used the bright and funky alphabet letters on our fridge to phonetically spell out some naughty words (yep - this is how I'm getting my kicks these days) ... and no-one in our household has noticed...

06 May at 18:54

pjmel is dismayed that winter seems to have returned to Deutschland, and frustrated that she'll be spending tomorrow morning failing a german grammar exam...

19 May at 18:42

pjmel wants a tardis... yep... I'd park it out the front...

24 May at 08:06

pjmel is very very excited to finally be an Aunty and he's a little carrot top (who'd have thought?)

31 May at 17:58

pjmel has just had a lovely trip to the UK, and a fabulous visit from Tamzinite, and herunbelievable surprise dinner party, and her very fun night out at Lady Gaga, and - oh yeah - that gorgeous little nephew that turned up to help make the last week so very memorable... AND there's yet another public holiday coming up ... yeah - all considered this being (!0) lark is not at all bad...

31 May at 18:20

pjmel just got to inform someone of her new nephew's name (...........) and the response? "Oh, sounds like he's gonna be either a world class spy or an international tennis player."

01 June at 22:35

pjmel so, Aus just played Denmark in a friendly, (1-0, yah!!) and I was just sorta wondering... who do you think Mary was backing?

04 June at 10:08

pjmel is packing bags again! We're off to Turkey tomorrow for a week of sunshine, beach & culture...

12 June at 16:34

pjmel has discovered something even more amusing at hotel breakfast buffets than watching Germans painstakingly peeling the tops off their hard-boiled eggs - and it's watching them using a knife & fork to surgically remove the pips from their slices of watermelon!

19 June at 09:27

pjmel just heard that apparently over 40 % of English men would rather watch their national team play football than watch the birth of their child... asked The Ger-Man which he'd prefer (given the choice) ... "Neither. Both are disturbing to watch."

25 June at 07:46

pjmel WHAT? HOW? I went to Amsterdam for just ONE day - and came back to find a ranga (redhead) now leads my country!

28 June at 19:43

pjmel 31 degrees in Düsseldorf = 40 degrees in Queensland terms. Why is this?

03 July at 20:49

pjmel just walked home through the Altstadt with her two VERY happy boys - and passed many people in red, black & gold singing the popular song from "Evita".

07 July at 06:33

pjmel has been thinking about cheezels today... cheezels can't be bought in Deutschland. I think I miss them more than twisties...

12 July at 00:11

pjmel wonders why the commentator on Germany TV kept using the term "Erste Verlierer" (first loser) to describe the Dutch team. 
(And yes, the Germans do have another word for runner-up...)

Yesterday at 17:57

‎pjmel 's hanging her head in shame after her Schwierig-mutter discovered that she only had (SHOCK! HORROR!) only one cake of soap left in the cupboard, and only 4 rolls of loo paper... how will my family survive???????

and it's such an awfully loooooong and arduous way to the nearest shops (200 mtrs down the road)... oh what peril my poor offspring faces!

My life according to Ella Fitzgerald...

Yet another random time waster that came to me awhile ago... the rules are:

Using only song names from ONE ARTIST, answer these questions. Pass it on to 15 people you like and include me (not to be too presumptuous...) You can't use the band I used. Try not to repeat a song title. It's a lot harder than you think! Repost as "my life according to (band name)"

Pick your Artist:
Ella Fitzgerald

Are you a male or female:
Hallelujah!

Describe yourself:
Things Aint What They Used to Be (And You Better Believe It)

How do you feel:
The Best is Yet to Come

Describe where you currently live:
Duke's Place

If you could go anywhere, where would you go?
Summertime


Your favourite form of transportation:
Trav'ling Light

Your best friend is:
Just a simple Melody

You and your best friends are:
Like Someone to Love

What's the weather like:
The Sun Forgot to Shine This Morning

Favourite time of day:
Five O'Clock

If your life was a TV show, what would it be called:
I found my Yellow Basket

What is life to you:
It´s Wonderful

Your relationship:
I Got a Guy

Your fear:
My heart belongs to Daddy

What is the best advice you have to give:
T'aint What You Do (it's the way that cha do it)

Thought for the Day:
Bei Mir Bist Du Schon

How I would like to die:
My Last Affair

My soul's present condition:
I got it Bad (And that Aint Good)

What would you like to eat right now:
The Muffin Man

My motto:
A-Tisket A-Tasket

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?

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...

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.)

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...

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?

Am thinking a party might be in order.

Another random ponder....

How is it that humankind has managed to produce the 'lego city' series, and yet cannot manage to provide the world with safe, clean energy & food for all??

Clearly, our best minds are being somewhat distracted!

(And, while we're at the 'random' pondering - how did it actually come to pass that so bloody much of the 'lego city' series has come to live with us?? I swear, next year it's all gonna be about goats and chickens for families in East Timor, Rewanda and the like... YES! Sanctimonious WILL be my new middle name ... )

I reckon

someone at the Kindergarten is gonna stage an intervention soon...

'cause (thanks to my English lessons) - there are now about 20 young German kiddies fluent with Rolf Harris's Six White Boomers. (Well, fluent with the chorus. And they like to sing it very loudly.)

I'm such a cultural ambassador! ;-)

Peace, Love and Tolerence...???

When, Brother-In-Law Barry told me this morning, that there'd been a biff-up between monks in a sacred christian church in Jerusalem - I didn't believe him.

"Nah," he said, "It's true. It really happened. Look it up on You Tube."

So I did.

And ... here's what the BBC News had to say:

"Israeli police have had to restore order at one of Christianity's holiest sites after a mass brawl broke out between monks in Jerusalem's Old City. Fighting erupted between Greek Orthodox and Armenian monks at the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, the traditional site of Christ's crucifixion. Two monks from each side were detained as dozens of worshippers traded kicks and punches at the shrine, said police. Trouble flared as Armenians prepared to mark the annual Feast of the Cross."

A few BIG FAT LIES about parenthood:

Some would call them "myths" - but that would be an euphemism. They are lies!

BIG FAT LIE #1: Breast-feeding helps you to lose weight.

Perhaps this is true for some, but after enduring the Caspi-Man spending the last 4 months of his gestation compacting my stomach (in a manner I can only describe as akin to gastric stapling) I was thrilled, after the birth - to be able to finally fill it again. And, fill it, I did. (Well, I could eat prawns again. And soft cheeses. And smoked salmon. And ... etc.) Suffice to say I put on only 7 kgs during the pregnancy, lost a bit after the birth, and retained at least 9 until the Caspi-Man was weaned a mere 18 or so months later. (See mum, I told you it'd happen before he went to school!)

BIG FAT LIE # 2: They don't stray out of sight of their parents during the toddler years. It is in an inbuilt survival instinct retained from cave-man times.

Quite a few of the child-rearing books I'd read mentioned this. (& The Caspi-Man, goddammit, didn't read those books. How much easier life would be if only he had.) While it is true that he hasn't been eaten by a saber-tooth tiger (or at least to the best of my knowledge he hasn't) there are many other things that potentially could have happened while he was ignoring (or rather blatantly violating) this so called 'natural' instinct.


But,perhaps the BIGGEST FATTEST LIE of them all, is that, once they're toilet- trained - you get your handbag back.

LIE. LIE. LIE!

By this stage they're able to make their own insertions into your bag. Often without your knowledge...

Spoken as one who has just cleaned out her bag and discovered she's been carting around, not one, not even two, but FIVE little cars, one tractor, random bits of lego, a mouse of Olli's, two books, THREE ROCKS (!?!? Yes, people, garden variety ROCKS! And we don't even have a garden!), and roughly one small handful of dried cat food...

(nb: this is by no means an exhaustive list...)

Pub sign

This came to me via an email from The Godfather (aka Uncle G in Sydney) and even though it riled me (bloody sexist stereotypes, perhaps?) - it also made me laugh...

.

Sign reads:

* Husband Creche*

Is he getting under your feet?

Why not leave him here while you SHOP!!

Free creche, just pay for his drinks!

Beyond Brittanica.

Ya gotta adore the internet! (I love a good understatement, don't you?) The reasons are, without doubt, incalculable. And as a parenting tool - it is a resource beyond compare .

And I'm not referring here to the countless sites devoted to advice, support, and creative ideas for effective discipline, (although I've heard rumours those places can be rather informative), but rather the aspect of how it has freed modern parents from age old cliches like:

"You'll just have to take my word for it",
"Go ask your mother," or
"Look it up in the encyclopedia."

(Not that the last of these was ever heard in my childhood home - we never owned a set - but I can attest to the others... the first in particular. Used a lot that one was...)

No, rather than resorting to the pulling of rank, or admissions of ignorance - parents of the new millennia can say:

"Hang on a sec... I'll show you!"

Recently, the Ger-Man was trying to dress the Caspi-Man, who was, on that day, refusing to wear anything BUT his pint sized Socceroos jersey. (And I must tell you, yellow is soooo not his colour. A shame really - as the Ger-Man proclaimed quite early on that if he excels at fussball he'd be playing for Australia, and if swimming was his sport he'd be doing it for Deutschland. I was initially confused by this - until he clarified his position with "more chance of getting in the national team". Just wonder who he'll be representing then if he excels at brick laying?)

The jersey happened to be soaking in the laundry - covered in colourful evidence of a previous day's eating, drinking, playing, and perhaps even accident of a "it's no big deal, it can happen to anyone," (but why the hell is it happening to you this often?) nature.

"How about this one?" asked the Ger-Man, holding up a black t-shirt adorned with a white feather on its chest that had been sent from NZ. "It's also a football shirt!"

The Caspi-Man was skeptical to say the least. But the Ger-Man was determined. He regaled the Caspi-Man with tales of rugby (who knew he knew of such things?), the glory of the All Blacks, and with impressions of the Haka. Attempts at the Haka even. I was dispatched (to the internet, of course) to obtain the true text. (And might I tell you - there are few things that are quite as amusing on a Saturday morning as a full blooded German Ger-Man attempting to teach his bewildered, half dressed 3 year old son the Haka.)

It was the internet, though, that I ultimately credit with winning the t-shirt a high profile place on the Caspi-Man's preferred-wearing rotation. And, specifically - this brilliant 'You-Tube' clip of
The All Blacks vs Tonga


(One of the few teams that can do something other than look bemused in the face of the Haka.)

Parents of previous generations could never have dreamt of this option!

Then again, parents of previous generations probably didn't have to try to explain to other shocked parents in the local Duesseldorf park, why their half German, half Australian son has just run up to the faces of their alarmed off-spring, with arms up, eyes bulging, toungue out, while shouting random words that sound a bit like profanities...

Constructions...

The Ger-Man and I had a rare night out this evening. (The Schwierig-mutter kindly swapped her regular Friday visit to today and stayed to babysit the Caspi-Man for us.)

So, what, you might ask, romantic and/or hedonistic pleasures were on our agenda? Did we go for a candlelit dinner at a Michelin starred restaurant? Or, maybe, did we have tickets to see the Madonna concert tonight at the Düsseldorf LTU Arena? To which I would have to reply - ahhh- um....no. (And if we did we probably wouldn't have been home by 10.15.)

We actually attended an invitation only, rather exclusive, fully catered, once-a-year event... the annual Eltern Abend (parent's evening) at the Caspi-Man's Kindergarten. (Oh the glamour!)

And the evening was not without its surprises. Apparently - the Kindergarten has secured nearly a million Euros to refurbish its building*. Work will commence next year. Architects have been commissioned. An on-site cafe, professional kitchen and community meeting rooms will be incorporated. The anticipated time line suggests the work will take only 3-4 months. (Yeah, right! As if!)

Meanwhile, the problem seems to be, what to do with the 45 children while the work is being done. Suggestions from the floor included a shipping container in the local park, farming them out to other kindergartens, or perhaps keeping them at home. (At home??? Really, Who Are These People?)

But mostly likely, they will be housed in one of the multitude of local office or shopping buildings left vacant due to the constructural ramifications of the Wehrhahn-Line.

Constructing times, indeed.

*it should be noted that the Kindergarten building also houses many baby and community groups in addition to just the Kindergarten.

How to NOT get a good night's sleep.

I've been tired and crotchety today. And, it is (mostly) my own fault. I fear I'm the victim of an over-active imagination - and have at my finger tips - a whole web of information with which to feed it...

Last night, with the Ger-Man away with work, my over-active imagination went into over-drive.

The catalyst was our upstairs neighbour, who I had seen earlier yesterday, as I was heading out to pick the Caspi-Man up from Kindergarten. He whisked very quickly past me on the stairs -and continued on to the cellar carrying many bulging plastic bags and an uncharacteristically bright multi-coloured backpack.

Our upstairs neighbour, Herr Upstairs, is definitely a bit strange. I’d guess he is in his early forties, lives alone, and comes across as an unremarkable, conservative, suit-wearing business man. He is always polite (but never ‘friendly’) when we pass on the stairs. He always seems to be in a hurry. No-one seems to know anything much about him.

Herr Upstairs keeps very strange hours. He is often home during the day AND he seems to be nocturnal. Since he moved in – a series of the strangest noises have peppered our nights.

(Am sure Herr & Frau Grumpypants below are holding us responsible for EACH and EVERY sound that filters down to their level.)

For a while after he first moved in - I’d had him pegged as either a closet transvestite, or the purchaser of certain (um) “late night delivery services”, as we would often hear the click clack of high heels in the wee small hours. There are also bizarre scraping noises, knocks and loud thuds (that sound like serious furniture rearranging) which are seriously intriguing and frankly, unexplainable. (There's never any loud music, blaring television, or social noises.) He goes through periods where he likes to use a power drill late at night. Most often in the bathroom. Recently he has also taken up hammering. But the power drill is his favourite.

Ordinarily, this doesn't bother us too much, we're sound sleepers and, hey, if a bit of DIY in high heels at 2am floats your boat -and it's not waking the Caspi-Man - then who are we to spoil your fun?

But last night the scrapes, thuds and drill pulses, were, well, a bit scary really. And as one that has read more than her fair share of thriller novels ... well ...

So I decided to do a quick internet search- just to put my mind at ease- that there hadn't been a spate of people going missing lately that I may not have been aware of. (Certainly, I hadn't heard anything on the news and, no-one has been gossiping about it - but still.) I searched for "missing+people+duesseldorf" ... and ... discovered that Duesseldorf's already had a notorious serial killer! One Peter Kurtin, (1883-1931), who was known as the "Vampire of Duesseldorf". Apparently he started off by torturing and killing animals...

Mind, definitely NOT AT EASE now, - because at this point I remembered there actually IS a serial rabbit killer, (The Rabbit Ripper) on the loose around Dortmund (NOT FAR FROM HERE), and police suspect he/she could move on to humans ...

All of which did not make for a peaceful night's slumber.

Wagers:

I spent this afternoon in front of the television - mostly sobbing through- the absolutely, awe-inspiring spectacle that was the Olympic opening ceremony. As is my four yearly wont.

(Yes, well... I'll admit I'm prone to being easily emotionally moved. Often. Even a well crafted TV commercial can sometimes do it. It can be very embarrassing. I'm also one of those people you sometimes see slinking out of a movie theatre at 11pm wearing sunglasses.)

Beijing certainly surpassed all high expectations. And a rather clever move I felt, incorporating the 30 trillion or so fireworks. Not just an extravagant, beautiful, culturally- warranted, breath-taking display - but also a lingering excuse for dubious air quality for the next 16 days or so...

The Ger-Man and I have once again laid down the gauntlet - to bet on which of our respective lands will be higher in the final medal tally. As is our four yearly wont.

(The Ger-Man would like to recoup his four yearly losses by making this a bi-annual event - factoring in the winter Olympics - but until Australia can guarantee a few more Steven Bradburys - I'm not buying into that...)

Now, we just have to decide what the 2008 stakes will be. Any suggestions?

[And mum, before you write it- country of permanent future residence is not going on the table... :) ]

Sunday

Some random snippits from the Sunday that just was...

* I blew up our hairdryer. Not intentionally, mind. I was using it in the regular way -when it made a strange pop and then a whirring noise - so I immediately turned it off - and then it started spewing dense black fog that left a lingering, toxic, chemical aroma in the bathroom.

* There is a 2 foot long x 1 and a half foot tall, multi-coloured, pyramid-shaped, lego structure, inconveniently located on my bedroom floor. (It is apparently housing -not 1 but 2 helicopters. Not everyone has 2 helicopters in their bedroom - I'll have you know.) I have been told - in the strictest of terms - that it MUST NOT be moved. Or even touched. Not even to relocate it to a more practical place.

* I discovered (eeeuuwww) that the newest member of our household has taken to drinking from the toilet bowl. (I repeat - eeeuuwww!) I swear he gets fresh water twice a day. But it seems fresh water is not what he's after... EEEUWWW. I just hope that he is the only one doing this.

* I also just discovered how to make text move back and forth on my blog! And, how annoying to read is that?