"Life is too important to be taken seriously."

-Oscar Wilde

Thursday, August 28, 2008

Isn't this supposed to be one of the first signs of dementia?

Took the Caspi-Man to kindergarten,
chatted a while with the teacher,
gossiped with other mums,
went to bank,
post-office,
super-market and
pet food supplier,
dropped books back at the library and,
chatted with neighbour on the street for a while.

It wasn't till climbing the last flight of stairs to the front door that I realised I'd spent the whole morning running around in mis-matched shoes...

Am taking small comfort from the words of a wise friend: "it's not like one was a heeled sandal and the other a flat boot."

No, it's true, I'm not quite that far gone........ not yet at least!





Tuesday, August 26, 2008

Smiles for Tuesday...



Polaroid montage created using 'bighugelab'.
(There seems to be no end to the ways I find to waste time - especially when there are so very many things I should be doing...... sigh.)

Monday, August 25, 2008

Mondays are for dancing...

When the idea was first touted, (over afternoon tea in a cafe a few months ago), the Caspi-Man was extremely excited by the idea of doing a dance course with his young friend, Miss H.

Much to the amusement of the waiters (and patrons at nearby tables), he jumped up - grabbed Miss H by the hand and said:

"Yay! Miss H, we're gonna dance! Now, I'll be the man and you be the woman!"

And together they twirled around merrily...

So, now the course is underway.

The Caspi-Man dances on the way to the Tanzhaus.

And he dances on the way home.

(Infact - in an average week the Caspi-Man finds endless opportunities for a random dance.)

But for much of the class (and to spite the teacher's best efforts) he prefers to watch.




Betchya can't guess which one is the Caspi-Man?!

weather moaning

What a chilly, damp, grey and miserable Monday morning (not helped by the Ger-Man gloating about the final Olympic medal tally - grrrrrr) ... it feels like Autumn and I'm still waiting for "Summer proper" to arrive.

I heard a report last week that said the whole world has experienced the coldest year in over a century. Across the planet there have been lower than average temperatures.

I shared this news with my Grandmother and rhetorically queried as to what had happened to global warming. My grandmother (who is way more informed than me) replied that we should no longer be referring to "global warming" but rather: "climate change".

Right, that's me told...

Wednesday, August 20, 2008

Timewaster...

Apparently, this is how geeks are choosing to send personal messages these days...

http://www.geogreeting.com/main.html

Tuesday, August 19, 2008

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.

Saturday, August 16, 2008

Evidence of cultural differences No. 352

Last night- just before sleep- the topic of the Ger-Man and my pillow-talk turned to "Whistle-blowing". As late night conversations sometimes do.

(Romantic creatures, aren't we? Nothing like the exposure of a bit of corporate corruption or organisational misconduct to spice things up in the bedroom...)

During our discussion I was stunned to learn that in Deutschland - a "whistle-blower" is generally referred to as a "Nestbeschmutzer", which translates as a "nest-fouler" or "nest-dirtier".

Which, it must be said- has a slightly different connotation, no?

Park Play & Art

Eh-Gads! We've had A VERY BUSY week - and to top it off - the Kindergarten changed their Sommerfest from Saturday (as planned) to a Friday (yesterday) afternoon.

Cue many parents hastily rearranging work schedules to spend the afternoon BBQing on the banks of the Rhein. (It's a tough life being a parent!)

The afternoon ended with an un-programmed Spiel - How may small children can fit in a single tree?




I think the official answer is 23. (Reminded me of the goats we saw in Morocco doing a similar thing.)

Afterwards, strolling home through the Hoff-Garten, we stumbled upon many pieces of "installation art". Projects (I think) by local students.

This path (with one stone step elevated using 3 carrots) was my favourite:

"Hasen Falle".


"Rabbit Trap".

Sunday, August 10, 2008

Trainer of Jedi Masters in the making?

Yesterday, we were out for lunch with a group of friends, and at one point the discussion turned to how the Caspi-Man was going with his two "spraches".

"Not bad," I said, and it's true. Luckily, both his languages seem to be developing at a similar rate, and while most conversations contain a bit of Denglish, he does seem to speak primarily in one or the other (depending on context).

"But", I continued, "He seems to be structuring his english sentances in a german gramatical format... & he often likes to whack the verb on the end."

"Ahhh," said a friend. "So he's speaking like Yoda then."

"?................... YES! YES HE IS!"

And they're probably the same hieght.

Not sure though- that the Caspi-Man is (as yet) at one with The Force, and am quite sure, that Yoda doesn't demand ice-cream and lollies for breakfast.

Friday, August 8, 2008

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... :) ]

Thursday, August 7, 2008

Take care of the Ps and the Cs take care of themselves! (?)

Many years ago (well, about 3 & half years ago really) we learnt that it really is not, in the long run, cheaper to buy budget-brand disposable nappies. (We found they were often inadequate in doing the job they're designed for.)

Just recently, I've learnt it's the same when it comes to budget-brand kitty litter.

There are some things that are just false-economy.

Monday, August 4, 2008

A random question that the Caspi-Man's obviously been pondering:

The Caspi-Man and I were just sitting having dinner together, after a longer than average "looong" day (and that's an euphemism) , when, out of the blue, he piped up with:

"Mama, where do people come from?"

"What do you mean, Caspi-Man, by 'where do people come from'?"

(Ok, I know that's a cop-out -but it really has been a long day...)

"I mean, where do people COME FROM? Do you buy them in a shop?"

"Um, no. Hold on a sec Caspi-man, Mummy just needs to go top up her drink...."

(AAArrgghhh....why does he seem to only ask these things when the Ger-Man's not here? Aren't we both suppose to be scaling these parenting mountains together? And godammit - haven't a dozen responses to that question just popped into my mind -none of which are appropriate to share with the Caspi-Man! )

Wine now in hand, (personally, after the day we've just had - I'm feeling proud it's not the gin or vodka - but I suppose I'm saving those for when the truly challenging questions come....):

"Well, Caspi-Man... people make people."

Of course, inevitably, this begins a long question and answer session, detailing which specific people were made by exactly which specific people in our immediate family/friend/acquaintance network - and then - I managed to craftily distract him with early evening Kinder-TV ( just before he thought of asking HOW people make people).

lines in the sand:

...
( The Caspi-Man finds his inner Picasso ...)
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