Berlinfusion

Okehampton Castle

I grew up in Okehampton, Devon.

My playground and 'back garden' was Dartmoor, the local woods and Okehampton Castle. This was in the good old days before mobile phones and generally over-protective parenting. I and my friends would be outside from dawn 'til dusk and we spent a lot of time at the castle.

Okehampton Castle

The custodian in those days was a lovely gentleman called Harry Palmer who let us in for free and taught us all about the history and told wonderful ghost stories. Much of our time was spent looking for the ghost of Lady Howard. In all my times there I'd never so much as felt the presence of a ghost, let alone see one.

Finding dog-friendly places in the UK is tricky. And confusing, especially as Britain is supposedly a nation of dog-lovers. We aren't allowed to take her on any beaches during the summer months and most other attractions forbid dogs.

Okehampton Castle is dog-friendly. So on this latest visit to the UK, we revisited my old stomping ground.

Little had changed in the intervening decades; some areas were railed off due to health and safety concerns, ancient brickwork had been made safe but otherwise, all was exactly as I recalled, of course.

Queen of the Castle

Intriguingly, there were two rooms that Kita absolutely refused to enter. Nothing would budge her, and if a Shiba doesn't want to do something, there's very little you can do about it.

But overall she loved the place.

 

Rhiannon's UK Trip 2011

Some more photos from last year's UK visit.

Rhiannon got to spend some time with a very special friend. First time she's seen him since her fifth birthday party! And they've always kept in touch. I'm so pleased we were able to get them together again.

Adults should do this on a date, too!

 

Kissing Gate swinging is a must.

This is on Dartmoor: Kita does NOT like water, as you can see!

"No way am I going in there! It's wet!"

At Powderham Castle. One of our favourite tourist spots, great for a day out for both adults and kids. Highly recommended. And serve one of the best Devonshire Cream Teas in the area. Also good for ghost hunting.

 

Meeting a bird

 

During the summer months, there are lots of activities and shows for the visitors to Powderham Castle: this was an interactive Robin Hood type tale with plenty of audience participation. Great fun!

 

Robin Hood and friends

 

And now for something completely different...

My Mum has an enormous Christmas cracker that's been around for as long as I can remember. I believe it was also around when Mum was a child. When I was a kid, it occasioannly came out packed with lots of treats. But since we haven't had a Christmas in the UK for some considerable time, it's been relegated to the loft.

Rhiannon does remember it though and had mentioned it a few times. So between us, Mum and I concocted a plan to create a summer cracker. OK, well Mum did all the work, but I did suggest it!

It's almost impossible now to buy the 'bangs' for crackers - 'elf 'n' safety, innit? But I found some discounted make-your-own crackers in John Lewis so bought a couple of boxes to cannibalise for the 'explosives'.

Isn't it fabulous?!

 

What a cracker!

 

And isn't it HUGE?!

It made a good bang and had some lovely surprise gifts inside. I love crackers!

Happy Birthday to Me!

Today is my birthday. (3rd April as I've just seen the time/day it is now!)

Rhiannon sent me an animated e-card showing a birthday cake running away from the masses of candles that should be on it. It made me fall about laughing, but I try not to think of the numbers nowadays. They are heading in the wrong direction.

Apart from the date, my birthday was a complete non-event.

Tim gave me some money last week and suggested I buy my own gift - he does this as it's easier for both of us: I get what I really want and like, and he doesn't have to trouble himself.

As you can see, birthdays are not celebrated in this household. Unless it's Rhiannon's!

It shouldn't bother me as I'm used to it. And for most of the day it really didn't. I woke up early and logged into Facebook where the first of dozens and dozens of lovely birthday greetings appeared. They were very touching and much appreciated.

Rhiannon was on a sleepover so there was no hug from her. Tim got up and forgot to even wish me happy birthday. I kept my counsel.

We collected Rhiannon, came home and I took Kita out for her morning in the spring sunshine. It was gorgeous and lifted my spirits immensely. Not far from home, a stunningly beautiful red squirrel sat on the railings by the bridge while it's mate sat in a nearby tree. They were within touching distance and just sat there, looking warily at the dog who was behaving remarkably well. I completely forgot that my iPhone has a camera on it so the image will remain in my memory rather than in the computer's.

Wild flowers carpet the ground in shades of blue, pink and white  in a small patch of woodland next to the lake. The trees are showing a soft haze of life as the buds begin to swell and burst. Mirror-calm, the water only rippled in time with a couple of mallard pairs. Further on, a large heron majestically took off and flew low over the water. Nobody else was around. Heaven.

Back home, reality hit. Tim had the day off so I hoped we might go out and 'do something'. My mistake. I should have planned it myself rather than expect others to step up to the mark. One day I will learn.

Tim and Rhiannon are going to Florida tomorrow. I'm staying behind. I have no wish to go to Disney and the pets need looking after. With Rhiannon deathly tired after her sleepover and Tim in packing mode ready for an extremely early start tomorrow the day was boring as hell.

By the time the packing was finished it was 3pm so no point in going anywhere then. If I'd thought sensibly about it, I'd have taken myself off for the day but as I am going to be on my own for the next couple of weeks I thought I'd better stay with my family. More fool me for being a sulky martyr! Not my default setting, that's for sure!

Reading the Facebook greetings later on, I did get a little morose for a while. No, I hadn't been 'spoilt rotten' by my husband and daughter; no, I didn't have a 'fabulous day', neither did I get 'loads of pressies'.

Ah well.

Yesterday I used Tim's money to buy myself to a pair of earrings I've been hankering after and an embarrassingly huge amount of pampering goodies. So at least I had something to unwrap today.

When Rhiannon got home she shot upstairs and wrapped up a pair of her own earrings for me. She knew how much I loved them and found them too heavy for her. It truly is the little things that make it worthwhile.

The adage "It's the thought that counts" is so, so true. A little thoughtfulness from people more than makes up for the rest of the 'let's pretend it's not happening' attitude.

I shall remember to sort it ALL out myself next year. It seems I need to write out a list of instructions or wishes beforehand in order to get any thought at all.

For what it's worth, I will thoroughly enjoy the utter peace, quiet and freedom to do what the hell I want until they return from the States.

And I will take many, many baths with the bubble bath overstock!

 

New Year in Berlin

Happy 2012 to you!

Just a quick post on our New Year's Eve here in Berlin. As predicted back in May, fireworks were exploded everywhere. I still don't much like them, but can appreciate the pretty, quiet ones.

Tim and Rhiannon have become full-blown pyromaniacs though. Fireworks have been on sale for a while now - just small, 'gentle' packs with miniature pyrotechnics and unobtrusive "cracks". We've had a few sessions of 'exploding things in the garden' which makes them both very happy.

After Christmas, however, much larger items and packs were available from supermarkets. Finding them generally accessible was rather shocking to me; perhaps I'm behind the times (or ahead) but I thought fireworks should be sold very carefully.

Anyway, Tim bought several selections, nothing too outrageous. I was most impressed with the metre long sparklers. They took forever to catch alight but each lasted about five minutes. That's my kind of firework.

We had been invited to join neighbours at 11pm for a display so Rhiannon stayed up to see the New Year in for the first time. At the appointed hour, we wandered down the road but nobody was around, nor were they at home. Slightly disappointed and a little miffed, we decided to let our fireworks off in our garden.

There was no fear of affecting anyone nearby as the explosions emanating from the woods and streets around us cancelled out our meagre offerings. After that, we went upstairs to watch distant displays.

At midnight, the quantity of explosions increased dramatically... and continued until about 3am. Grr.

Thankfully, Kita was fine during most of the event but understandably got a little anxious when rockets started to come into our garden.

The next day we gathered a large bucketful of firework rubbish from the lawn; the streets around us were literally covered with the same.

Was it worth it? While fireworks obviously make many people happy, I still don't understand the attraction of spending a fortune on something that, quite literally, goes up in smoke.

 

New Year Honours

New Year's Eve is a time for taking stock of the past year and for making plans and resolutions for the coming year.

Taking stock of 2011 feels a bit like too much brain work for me today. (I've come down with a stomach bug and feel rather 'blah' about everything right now.)

As for planning what I want and need to achieve in 2012... well, that something that's likely to make my head explode with the enormity of it all.

I shall pass on both these until a later date.

However, Tim and I were thrilled to read the New Year Honour list this morning as several people we know have been recognised for their hard work during the Japanese earthquake, tsunami and nuclear crisis. We're very proud of the strings of letters bestowed upon them but sad it took such a terrible disaster to prompt the awards.

And let's not forget all the other people, as yet unrecognised, who worked equally as hard during that crisis.

Well done to everyone!

How Much?!

A trip to the post office gives me a nasty shock...

Back in May I had to make the painful decision to close my business - a letter writing service from "The Fairies". I blame the German postal system entirely for my loss. Postage costs are incredibly high and the nearest post office to me is a mile away. A mile!

Anyway, time had passed and I'd forgotten about the rules and regulations regarding envelope and parcel sizes and the impact the dimensions have on the astronomical cost of a stamp.

I took my Christmas cards and a few small parcels to the esteemed establishment. It was a long process; I send quite a few cards to places around the globe. Most are to the UK though, so I was unpleasantly surprised when half a dozen were pulled out and placed to one side.

"Too big" stated the clerk.

I looked puzzled.

"Too big" she repeated. "Not standard price"

Ohh. Well, it had taken me long enough to write and address them, so I told her to post them anyway.

They weren't that big. I've measured a leftover one and it measures 12.7cm by 14.2 cm. That's about 5 inches in old money.

The cost for sending each "non standard / too big" card? €3.45!

No, that is not a typing error. €3.45. How utterly ridiculous. The entire pack of cards cost about the same price.

I cannot get over this. Obviously I went to the post office a couple of weeks ago to send these Christmas cards and I still haven't managed to get the horrific cost out of my head. However much it hurt to close my business, this confirmed to me that I made the right decision.

My entire postage bill that day came to a staggering €75.96.

I love sending cards and equally love receiving them. Quite a few people don't seem to send Christmas cards any more though, and it saddens me to think I may have to become one of them, based purely on the cost of postage from here.

 

Our First Berlin Christmas

So. We've just experienced our first Christmas in Berlin and it was unanimously voted as possibly the best Christmas ever. The only thing that would have made it perfect would have been snow, but that seems to be missing for the foreseeable future.

It was also declared to be very stress-free.

Barring one early morning and unavoidable incident that I will explain in due course...

Our Christmas expectations aren't particularly high. For example, I don't go crazy baking cakes and cookies, and our Christmas dinner is a fairly standard roast. As there are only the four of us (us plus Mum), I don't have to adjust my default cooking settings. We don't have turkey, preferring a leg of lamb instead. So dinner is easy. To us, it's basically a normal day but with presents!

Anyway, let me start on Christmas Eve.

Tim and I had been to our 'local' Kaisers - a quite nice supermarket - and bought a number of lovely items for lunch. We'd also found some alcohol-free 'champagne'... and a small bottle of the real thing for me. Our lunch was a feast of truffle pâté, smoked salmon, Serrano ham, good old hot-buttered toast and Christmas cake (the only baking I'd done). Yummy! And success #1.

In the evening I heard the church bells start ringing. Tunelessly as usual. But this time the cacophony was joined by the distant and melodic sound of trumpets. I went out the front to see if I could work out what was going on and ended up standing outside listening to a brass band playing Carols at the hotel down the road.

Later that evening, Tim answered the door to our immediate neighbours who unexpectedly and very kindly brought around a card and three packets of delicious, home-baked cookies! Hurriedly, I wrote a card and sent Tim back to deliver it.

For the first time in ten years, I managed to get all the gifts wrapped by 8pm. Normally, I'm still frantically battling with paper and Sellotape at 2am on Christmas night with my knees and back screaming in protest. Therefore, I was able to properly relax with my family in the evening. Success #2.

 I managed to get Rhiannon's stocking up to her room without incident - no dropping presents everywhere, no waking her up, no accidentally setting off the Light Saber she'd asked for... Success #3.

On Christmas morning Rhiannon woke at 6.30am. Fearing the potentially heart-stopping sounds of a Light Saber going off, I suggested we open the stocking downstairs in the warm. So after lugging the thing upstairs at 2am, holding my breath every step of the way, I ended up taking it back down again! She enjoyed her presents very much. Success #4.

Then, at 7.30 there was a slight commotion in the hallway...

Raymi the cat had decided to enter into the gift-giving spirit by bringing his own little present to us... a live and totally unharmed field mouse. This is the first time in his entire seven year life that he's done that.

Mayhem ensued. The first thing I did was shut Kita in one room and turfed the cat back outside and locked the catflap. However, I couldn't catch the rather endearing rodent and after a couple of circuits of the room it took refuge under the fridge.

Time to wake Tim up. He ended up dismantling the kitchen cabinets and we finally captured the mouse an hour and a half later and released it at the end of the garden. Lucky little mouse! Success #5.

Timings for the Christmas dinner were put back a little but that too worked out well. Success #6.

All presents were a great success. I actually had mine a few weeks ago. Tim ordered me an iPhone (yippee!) but Apple telephoned me on the home phone to confirm his order, so his fabulous surprise was scuppered. Thanks Apple! I also received a couple of gorgeous antique necklaces and a raclette grill.

We got Mum some tickets for a classical concert on New Years Day and Rhiannon had tickets for Apassionata - a horse show. She squealed with delight. Rhiannon also recieved a numer of kits to make things such as slime, soap and candles... lots of mess potential!

Tim received a telescope and a weather centre so is now talking about focal lengths, millibars and other atmospheric gibberish.

Sucesses #7 - #154.

The rest of the day was spent playing Pictionary (another present) and generally lazing around. Boxing Day has been much the same.

We did drag ourselves out for a walk in the forest around Grunewaldsee where we met more dogs than we've ever seen at the same time. I may need to employ a dog trainer as Kita did not enjoy this part of the walk at all.

There was also a rather disturbing number of families out competing in what appeared to be family athletics competitions. A circuit was set up with wooden exercise equipment and groups of people ran around the track, having races and stopping to work out on the bars etc.

We didn't join in.

So it's all been good so far! I do hope you all enjoyed your Christmas too.

 

 

 

 

A Christmas Roundup

It's been a busy couple of weeks. So busy, in fact, that I don't feel I've shared enough of my mundane life with you all.

Let me rectify that now...

We've been to Christmas parties: one for the kids where Santa appeared with presents. I think this is possibly the last year Rhiannon will go to this particular party. She was one of the oldest there and was all 'pre-teenage' angst beforehand, worrying what to wear and so on. Once there she had a good time though.

Another party was at Tim's office where we had a wonderful "small world moment". We bumped into someone we both worked with in Vienna about 11 years ago! The amazing coincidence is that he no longer works for the establishment and was just visiting a friend here for the weekend.

Last week - Tuesday 13th December - Rhiannon had her school's Christmas Show. We've attended a number of these over the years; usually a deadly dull concert showcasing the dubious talents of the school's orchestra and choir.

This one, however, was different. Well it would be - it's a different school in a different country!

They put on a production of "The Wind in the Willows". It was held in a very posh place called Konzerthaus in Gendarmenmarkt.

Beautiful building, isn't it? The school had hired a smaller hall inside and the play took place there.

It was an ambitious production and the kids performed extremely well indeed, with no errors that I could spot. I have to admit I've never read the book and don't know the story. And I have to admit that I'm still none the wiser as to the plot...

Rhiannon played, "Sally, the Jailer's Daughter". Just a few lines, but a part nonetheless.

She soldiered on despite suffering from a nasty bug of some description. She'd spent the previous weekend with a temperature and a dreadful cough. Which she is still suffering from, unfortunately.

School finished on Wednesday 14th so Thursday was spent lazing around the house, recharging our batteries for a short time. Or rather, Rhiannon recharged her batteries while I spun around the house frantically tidying up and cleaning ready for our Very Important Visitor...

Later that evening, we collected Mum from the airport. She's spending three weeks with us and came bearing gifts of tea bags, magazines and other lovely goodies.

The following day, Tim and I had a function to attend, so we press-ganged Mum to babysit for the afternoon. I enjoyed getting all dressed up for a change and wore a gorgeous sparkly Vivienne Westwood top and a pair of palazzo pants. To my surprise, nobody else had bothered to put their glad rags on. The very different culture in this country is going to take some getting used to.

Never mind. I didn't care that I was overdressed and I got to talk to people, something that is lacking somewhat in my day to day life. Our host informed us we had to "sing for our supper" and produced song sheets. We all gathered in front of the real fire and sung Carols with alternating verses in English and German.

The food was wonderful. Not particularly Christmassy, but very "British" with a fantastic bread and butter pudding for dessert.

The rest of the time has been mostly spent travelling into town to finish the Christmas shopping. Much of our enjoyment has come from admiring all the incredible Christmas decorations available here. They really are beautiful - and sometimes bizarre - a Christmas gherkin bauble anyone?

Unfortunately, the weather hasn't been good - and there is absolutely no sign of any decent snow, a few flakes spun around a couple of times, but mainly it's been raining. So it's been pretty unpleasant out there.

Rhiannon's cough has been very bad so I've not wanted her to spend much time outside. She gets tired very easily. But Mum needs entertaining so I've found it a bit stressful keeping everyone happy and occupied.

Then poor Mum got ill and we have had to spend the past couple of days indoors. Of course, this coincided with Rhiannon finally getting a little better and wanting to go out! (It's OK - Mum's feeling much better now.)

We've still got a Christmas Market to visit - a "Must Do" for Mum; all the wrapping to do, food-shopping to finish - we still haven't got a meat to have on Christmas Day!

Thankfully, Tim has got some time off next week so hopefully we can explore Germany a bit more and have some day trips out and about.

I'm exhausted already!

 

Christmas Caboodle

Christmas-time in Germany is a cultural shock I wasn't quite expecting. It's just so full-on! And there's so much of it I find my brain whirling.

I've never been a particular fan of this festival apart from the fact that I can indulge my shopaholic tendencies with no guilt. I really enjoy that bit!

Christmas decorations are apparently necessary, as is a tree. So I will happily buy pretty tree baubles from many countries and let Tim and Rhiannon put the decorations up. But not until the second week of December at the absolute earliest. Bah humbug!

This was all easy in Japan. Japan, as a non-Christian country does not celebrate Christmas. Yes, as an acknowledgement of the event, decorations are put up and usually take the form of brilliant blue or white LED lights in extraordinary displays. But these are really for the main celebration of New Year.

Then, once midnight on Christmas Eve has passed, Christmas is finished. Themed goods in the shops are removed, decorations are deconstructed and life returns to normal ready for Christmas Day which is a normal working day there. Mum and I really enjoyed this aspect of Christmas in Japan. Once the presents were opened and lunch had been eaten, we'd leave Tim and Rhiannon to play with their toys and watch TV while Mum and I escaped from the confines of the house and go for a big shopping trip. It became our tradition for five, lovely, low-key Christmases.

Low-key is not a phrase I'd attribute to a German Christmas. Whilst thankfully not on a par with the tacky commercialism of the UK, the more traditional aspects of the holiday are in full flow already. After all, didn't Germany invent Christmas?

There is a lot of Christmas stuff going on here now. Enormous trees are being delivered by lorry to various institutions, wreaths are going up on doors already and the shops are filled to the brim with Yuletide décor. The lights are up and switched on along Ku'damm, and very pretty they look too.

And the famous Christmas Markets have started. Called Weihnachtsmarkt, they are popping up everywhere. Attractive little wooden stalls are to be found in most areas selling everything from knitted scarves and sweets to high quality and typically German decorations made of wood, .

We visited Potsdamer Platz at the weekend. Rhiannon was thrilled to find a sledging hill had been set up and for once was happy to queue for ages to have a go. She hurtled down the slope many times on an inner tube. I waited at the bottom clutching a tall glass of Glühwein. Well, I do like to try all new traditions at least once. Or twice...

I wandered around the stalls. The scents from the numerous food stands were incredible. Delicious fresh doughnuts, gingerbread, sausages of all flavours, the heady smell of Glühwein and, oh, what's that? Heiße Schokolade Milch mit Whisky... even my limited German can work that one out. Yum!

Looking around at the arts and craft kiosks I realised a lot of items from my childhood could well have been German-made. Strong, well-made wicker baskets and chairs, various knick-knacks associated with Christmas and carved wooden Nutcrackers. Both Rhiannon and I find these soldier-nutcrackers a little creepy so we won't be having one. I mean, look at that mouth!

But I like the German word for him - Nussknacker.

We shall explore more of these Weihnachtsmarkts in time. Mum wants to visit as many as she is able when she arrives, so there will be plenty of opportunity for me to try more Heiße Schokolade Milch mit Whisky, or Rum, or Schnapps or...

Perhaps I shall begin to enjoy Christmas after all.

Some Corner of a Foreign Field

Early this clear, frosty morning we were standing in the calm and beautiful Berlin Commonwealth War Graves Commission Cemetery.

For me and Rhiannon, this was our first Remembrance Day service. What a moving place to experience this emotionally charged ceremony.

We wore our poppies with pride. Initially we'd felt a little awkward about wearing this symbolic flower but in the company of others from the Commonwealth today they weren't out of place.

The ceremony started with the Black Kilts, a Berlin-based pipes and drums band marching up the through the grave lines. Standard bearers carried themselves immaculately.

And then a lone bugler sounded those poignant notes of The Last Post.

Now for some reason, I cannot bear The Last Post. It never fails to bring me to tears. It's so mournful and the meaning behind it so heartbreakingly sad I cannot help myself. I struggled to hold back the tears. So many people have more reason to cry than me. The last members of my family lost to war were my great-grandfather and great-uncles in the First World Ward.

Wreaths were laid at the Stone of Remembrance by representatives of various Commonwealth countries and other groups. Children from the Berlin British School each laid a single sunflower on 15 graves. Prayers and speeches were given.

Rhiannon and her frozen feet went to look at the names on the graves and was uncharacteristically silent with the knowledge that all the fallen were in their late teens and early twenties.

The cemetery was created in 1945 as a burial ground for air crew and prisoners of war who died whilst interred in the Berlin area and in East Germany. The cemetery lies under the protection of the British Crown, and so belongs to the UK. In total there are 3,576 graves in the cemetery. Several are unmarked.

At the end of the service we headed back to the car. We were very cold. But we remembered the hardships our forces endure and endured, and kept quiet.

We could leave this corner of a foreign field and go home.

 

The Soldier by Rupert Brooke

If I should die, think only this of me:
That there's some corner of a foreign field
That is forever England. There shall be
In that rich earth a richer dust concealed;
A dust whom England bore, shaped, made aware,
Gave, once, her flowers to love, her ways to roam,
A body of England's, breathing English air,
Washed by the rivers, blest by the suns of home.

And think, this heart, all evil shed away,
A pulse in the eternal mind, no less
Gives somewhere back the thoughts by England given;
Her sights and sounds; dreams happy as her day;
And laughter, learnt of friends; and gentleness,
In hearts at peace, under an English heaven.

Cultural Confusion

Some habits take a long time to disappear.

I've been having a few postal deliveries recently. I'm at home most, if not all, of the time. So I was surprised to find a yellow card from the postman in my mail box one day last week. It said "Ihre Sendung ist da!" So I was aware what it meant.

Minor panic set in - where is it? What do I have to do to get it? Is it going to be complicated? And will I have to try and speak to anyone?

In the UK, these cards were a common way for the postman to avoid waiting the few seconds it took to ring the doorbell and hand the parcel over to you. We got them even when someone was at home. The postie didn't even bother to ring the bell most of the time. You then had to find out where the parcel had been returned to, get in the car and queue for ages at a collection point before receiving your goods.

In Japan, I could phone a number for an English speaking service and the parcel would be whisked back to me at home within a few hours, often quicker and always at a time specified by me.

Here, I had to type the information into Google Translate again. I'm getting quite good at typing long German words now.

It turned out my parcel had been life with a neighbour. Eek! Which neighbour? The address was scrawled on the card but I made out it was somewhere along the road opposite.

So I ventured out. a little nervously. Found the house; it belonged to an elderly gentleman whom I have noticed spends a lot of time doing his garden and sweeping the pavement.

I pressed the bell on his security gate. No answer. Tried again, a few more times - still no answer. He must be out. Or in his garden. But I couldn't see into the garden behind the huge hedge. Ah well, I'll go back later, I decided.

Suddenly he appeared from behind the hedge and made me jump. He looked pretty startled too, but soon recovered himself.

I, however, lost all remnants of sanity.

"Konnichi... err... Hello... umm... Guten Morgan!" I blurted. (It was afternoon...)

And bowed deeply.

WHAT? Where am I?

Desperately I tried to recover myself from this embarrassing cultural confusion and waved the yellow card at him. And reverted to plain old English.

His face was a picture! But he kindly let the crazy foreigner into his domain and fetched my parcel out of the shed.

I thanked him... in three languages. And to my horror found myself bowing again! 

He showed me to the gate rather quickly and said "Goodbye."

I suppose I should be grateful the bowing habit isn't the worst thing I could have picked up over the years.

Trick or Treat!

Last night we went Trick or Treating.

For most of you this won't be a big deal, but it occurred to me that it was my first time celebrating Halloween in this fashion.

Why? Well, for a start when I was a kid it wasn't heard of in Britain. Instead I would go with my friends to the local haunted castle so we could scare ourselves silly. Rhiannon was too little when we lived in the UK. And in Tokyo it was an arranged trip around a small, enclosed residential area where all the homeowners played along. So this was the first time we've done 'wild' Trick or Treating. It was fun!

Just before we left, Rhiannon handed me her black lipstick with the words, "This is the last time I will happily let you come out with the same make up on as me." Hah!

We headed over to a friend's house to meet up with other families. There were a couple of skeletons, a flock of vampires and a tiny devil with flashing red horns and a pink Hello Kitty lantern. Scary!

As usual, it didn't take Rhiannon long to make new friends (the other kids go to a different school) and she was soon zooming around with the pack, cape flying out behind her. (Incidentally, she was supposed to go as a vampire but lost her teeth! So she was a gorgeous Goth instead. With a cape.)

The noise and hyperactivity produced by free sweets and the heady freedom to roam the dark streets relatively adult-free was something to behold.

While Halloween isn't celebrated here as much as it is in the States, a few homes entered into the spirit by displaying pumpkin lanterns. Some also had cobwebs draped over bushes and, very occasionally the full works including skeletons hanging from trees and wailing ghouls on the door.

I had wondered how Trick or Treating would work here. Most of the houses have security gates which need to be opened from inside. It's quite a palaver. And, I should think, rather worrying if the homeowners can't see who's at the gate.

What happened was this: the troop of children raced along the pavement to a house. The first one there would ring the bell on the gate and scream to the others to "Hurry UP!" Then a running commentary at full volume ensued, "There's someone there! I can see them! They're coming down the stairs! They're opening the door NOW!"

When the hapless homeowner peered out they were greeted by a cacophony of "Trick or Treat!", sometimes in English and sometimes the German version. I never did work out what that was though. One lady made them sing a song too.

Sometimes the owner came to the gate with a basket of goodies. More often though, the gate was clicked open from inside and then the kids hurtled up the path, cheering at the tops of their voices. Sweets were handed out and, after a quick "Danke",  the pack would scream along to the next house. The single but ubiquitous apple was swiftly hidden from view and somewhere along the line one child received a packet of instant noodles.

Once, we couldn't keep up with them and arrived just as they gained entry into an apartment block. They'd done this by pressing every single buzzer on the panel. It was very tempting to disown the entire group at this point. We watched in slightly amused horror as they went pelting up the stairs inside the building. Luckily, it wasn't long before they returned triumphant with more sweets.

After that, we reminded them to only visit single homes with decorations up. It was quite exhausting and we called a halt at 7.30pm.

I think this may be the last year we do Trick or Treat; Rhiannon was the oldest in the group and I think she felt a bit awkward about that. It didn't dampen her spirits though.

And the sweet haul was spectacular, a carrier bag almost full to the brim. She kindly allowed me to share some.

Karaoke Party for Kids

My ears are bleeding. Bleeding, I tell you!

Saturday was Rhiannon's 10th birthday party. She wanted a karaoke party. As I will do anything to avoid having a party at home I agreed to this request.

Now this was easy to organise last year in Japan; basically because someone else organised it for me... but also because Japan is, of course, the home of karaoke. This year it wasn't so easy.

Somehow I managed to do it though. From extensive Google searches I discovered a venue called Green Mango. Heartened by an English language website I entered into email discussions with them.

There was an initial major panic when they told me they couldn't confirm until two weeks before the event, but it all went ahead as planned.

Green Mango is an excellent venue that I can highly recommend. I can imagine an adults night out would be an absolute scream. It's very large and there is plenty of seating around tables, a good sized stage, many thousands of songs to choose from and the event is led by a DJ / compere. For kid's parties they lay on food and a cake too. Everything was taken care of; all Tim and I had to do was welcome the guests and sit back.

It only dawned on me on Saturday morning that we were to be there for four hours. Four whole hours of listening to children attempt to sing along to songs they don't really know. I know this from last year's party.

Four hours!

But we survived. However, I'm only just returning to 'normal' today after a weekend of drifting around in a daze.

And if I ever hear certain songs again I shall not be responsible for my actions.

I often joke that my sole reason for becoming a 'stay at home mum' was so I could influence Rhiannon's taste in music. All these years have been utterly wasted though. I'm devastated. Rather than a penchant for rock, punk, and other good music, Rhiannon is showing a scary tendency towards candy pop. Where she has picked this up I do not know. I suspect school and the bus journey where they listen to Kiss FM (Berlin's version, not the UK).

Her taste now is so middle of the road she's in danger of being run down. JLo, and, god help me, those freaks Jedward, feature in her musical life. It's so depressing.

The karaoke was the backing track only with lyrics, which makes it hard for anyone to sing - without the accompanying vocals to sing along to. Add nine and ten year olds with little rhythm and tone to the mix and the result is frankly dreadful. Caterwauling doesn't quite cover the pain we had to endure.

And the hysterics when they realised what they were singing! They're at an age when they're beginning to understand about relationships and so on. Some of the lyrics were fairly explicit. And some even had swear words in! Oh, the horror on their faces when they saw "f***" or "s*x" appear on the screen. Yes, the words were starred out, but they knew what they meant.

It was funny. For a while.

But the thing with kids is that they do like to repeat themselves. This meant the same song was tortured again and again. And again. And the songs were bad enough to start with.

I never, ever want to hear this again:

Bruno Mars - "The Lazy Song". Rather worryingly, it seems to be the school "song"...

 

There are more, but my ears are rebelling due to having to look for this one. I am aurally exhausted.

The kids had a great time though, and that's what it's all about.

And it's all over now. Until next year.

 

This Year's Birthday Cake

Today got off to an early start thanks to the birthday girl. She set her alarm clock for 6am so she could open her presents before going to school.

Oh joy.

We gave her a couple of gifts to open and made her wait until after school to open the others. Apparently she's got a "good school day" today - two hours of art then auditions for the Christmas play, Wind in the Willows.

I saw her off to school and walked the dog. Rather than go back to bed as I dearly wished, I set about dealing with her birthday cake.

Oh dear. I'd forgotten to plan ahead and check my ingredients.

I'd forgotten to take any more butter out of the freezer so "only" had an 8oz block with which to make the butter icing. Never mind, I'd also misjudged the amount of icing sugar required too as there was barely enough to make this amount.

I set the mixer whizzing away making a very soft butter-cream. I decided on pink icing... but discovered somebody had used most of my red food colouring making slime. When I tipped in the colour the mixer did one of those kick-back moves and red splashed onto my new, cream jumper.

No, I wasn't wearing an apron because it was hanging on the back door and had been trapped when that door had been used... and locked... I couldn't find the key. Luckily, the finish on my jumper repelled the colour and I managed to remove it with kitchen roll. Phew!

How about yellow? No, that's almost empty too. I tipped it in anyway which had no effect on the colour (cheap colours) but a disastrous effect on the consistency. The icing was nowhere near stiff enough to stay on the cake let alone pipe.

Hmm. I switched off the mixer to ponder the dilemma.

Just in time to hear the phone ringing. It rang off just as I got to it but recognised the number and called back.

It was Mum, calling for a chat and to tell me she'd booked her flights over to us for Christmas. While recounting to her my morning so far I had a brainwave.

Add cocoa powder! This would make the mixture stiffer and, even though the effect wouldn't be as attractive, at least I could complete the job.

Fishing around in cupboards, I found my piping syringe and started. It's a small contraption so needs filling far too often.

The doorbell rang - postman.

Started again. I managed to get the top of the cake done... and then the syringe broke. Briefly I considered making a piping bag, but realised I had no greasproof paper or sensible clingfilm.

So I gave up and am now sitting here with a well-deserved cuppa.

The kitchen looks like an explosion in a cake factory. I'll clear it up in a moment. After another cup of tea.

Here's the cake. I'm not hugely impressed with it, but I will make sure I double check all my ingredients next time.

 

Arrrr

Rules.

There's a saying: "In Germany everything is forbidden until it is permitted".

Read this post for further details!

 

"I'll have a 'P' please, Bob"

Public Holidays.

Japan had squillions of public holidays - but at least the shops never closed.

I truly cannot get used to everything closing on Sundays and public holidays. I have never lived anywhere where I can't buy an emergency pint of milk on these days. It means that Saturdays are usually spent dashing around doing compulsory shopping-type activities (as opposed to happy Carole-type shopping).

Easter was a revelation. I've never 'done' Easter so to see so many Easter-related traditions around was unusual. Plastic eggs were hung on trees, shops and malls had eggstravgant yellow displays everywhere. Including real bunnies!

Christmas will be fascinating.

Pollen.

There's far too much of this sneaky allergen around. My newly developed hayfever season has lasted a long time.

At one point in early summer, everything was coated with a layer of yellow. Atchoo!

 

 

 

I Hate Fireworks

I mentioned about Quiet Time rules in a previous post. But it obviously doesn't apply in the case of fireworks.

For the past three evenings we have been subjected to the racket of what are apparently professional firework displays, judging by the length and breadth of the cacophony. And the obligatory finale of ear-drum bursting loudness.

They start between 10pm and 11pm. How bloody ridiculous is that?

I spend an anxious time waiting for Rhiannon to wake up or the dog to get upset (they sleep together, so if one gets up, so does the other). Thankfully she hasn't been woken by them yet as her room is on the other side of the house.

As you may have deduced, I hate fireworks. Always have.

I loathe the outrageously loud bangs and - in my opinion - the massive and ridiculous waste of good money. Literally going up in smoke. And for what? A few oohs and ahhs? All that money could be spent on far more charitable (and quieter) causes.

Why do they have to be so loud? While I can fully appreciate the beauty and skill in creating explosives that turn into multicoloured flowers in the sky, I do not like the booms.

So far Kita doesn't seem to get too upset by them. We've yet to see how she reacts if they get more frequent and closer, which apparently we will have the "delight" of experiencing on New Year's Eve...

The only dogs I've ever met who actively enjoyed fireworks were a group of highly trained gun dogs. But they still had to be kept indoors so they didn't race off looking for game to retrieve.

I just want them all to go away. Forever. Bah humbug.

Berlin Rules!

There's a saying: "In Germany everything is forbidden until it is permitted". This continues with various other country's variations - I'll put a list at the end of this post, I'm sure many people can add to it.

One rule that particularly annoys affects me is "Everything Must Be Closed on Sundays". Sunday is sacrosanct. The church is surprisingly powerful here and insisted upon this law in 2009. I live near a church and they do not have a large congregation... [ETA: I've since been informed the Trade Unions had a big part to play in this law too.]

While attractions such as the zoo and museums are allowed to be open, no retail establishment is permitted to trade. This means that all shopping has to be done either during the week or on Saturday. Some out of town places even close at lunchtime on Saturdays.

I don't like having to be this organised. If I start some gardening project, for example, I'd like to be able to pop to the garden centre on a Sunday to purchase whatever it is I've forgotten. Or if, as is usual, I've run out of milk... I can't pop to the conbeni or local store to get more. I suppose I'll get used to it, but I'm already bored with trying to remember everything we need to get on a Saturday.

Another interesting rule is about washing your car. Basically you can't. You're not allowed to; it's against the law. You can wash your car yourself IF you happen to live near a special city-authorised car-washing drain. Otherwise you must use a public car wash. Some places even have restrictions on which day of the week car washing is permitted!

Gardens: You must keep your front garden looking good. But you are not allowed to cut any trees.

Quiet Time: During the hours of 1pm-3pm and after 8pm and all day on Sundays and public holidays you must not make excessive noise. Such as mowing the lawn, drilling, hammering or anything else noisy that may upset your neighbours. I think barking dogs and squealing kids are also included but we haven't been told off yet...

It's also illegal to cross the road at a pedestrian crossing when the light is on red and if the police see you do it, you'll be fined. (So just make sure they don't see you!)

And one of the strangest rules of all - it is against the law to have the ashes of your loved one stored in an urn at home after cremation. Lucky I don't have any then...

As for the rest of the list I referred to at the beginning of this post... these were contributed by an expat forum I belong to. I hope they are taken in the humorous way they're intended.

• In Germany everything is forbidden until it is permitted.
• In England everything is permitted until it is forbidden.
• In France everything is permitted even if it is forbidden.
• In Singapore everything is forbidden even if it is permitted
• In the US, everything is permitted until a marketing research study finds that it A) causes cancer or B) is fattening. Then it's forbidden, but only in certain states.
• In the Philippines everything forbidden can be permitted depending on your social status.
• In Italy, if you're the Prime Minister or know the right people...everything is permitted... otherwise, everything is still permitted, but you have to talk your way around it.
• In India everything is permitted if you can pay for it, and everything is forbidden if you can't.
• In Thailand, everything is permitted and everything is not forbidden!

The Joy of Mail

Postal systems have been at the forefront of my mind recently, and not in a good way, as you will have seen from my previous post.

But receiving mail is delightful. Unless it's bills or other unwanted items, of course.

What I'm talking about is getting personal mail: surprise letters, magazines, small gifts of chocolate and tea (thank you Mum!), "Welcome to your New Home" cards and goodies ordered over the internet. These are all very exciting things for an isolated expat to receive.

Rather sadly, the internet has stopped most of this excitement. People use email, catch up on Facebook or Twitter and even send e-cards rather than proper ones. Yes, I'm guilty of all this too, mostly because I can, and partly because I am forgetful of people's birthdays. Besides, it's all much more immediate, isn't it?

Not all my friends and family are on the internet though. Some don't even have a computer, so I keep in touch with them by phone. Being in nearly the same timezone will take some getting used to in this respect. Now I can call them without inadvertently waking them at scary o'clock in the morning. In theory, anyway. I've been used to being able to phone people at 1am "my" time from Tokyo - but that would now be midnight in the UK... not a good move and I've had to catch myself a couple of times so far.

However, nothing beats the thrill of opening the mailbox to find handwritten, personally addressed cards or letters. I was amazed when we first moved in here that there were five cards already waiting for us. One of the senders even has a computer and we regularly chat online, so this made receiving her card even more special for me. That's been it though.

It makes me a little sad, which is peculiar because I'd got used to not receiving post while I was in Japan. People were under the impression it cost too much to send a card there, so didn't bother trying. Plus, social networking took off during my time there, so I suppose that had a lot to do with it as well. I could go on a longer "poor me" rant, but won't indulge myself or bore you. And don't even get me started on the demise of the "Thank You" note! The lack of them makes me question whether it's worth bothering to send a gift in the first place.

However, if you would like to send me a card or letter, please do!

This week I will mostly be waiting in for parcels to be delivered.

There is no option to ask the postie to "leave parcel with neighbours" or "put in alleyway" as our front gate is permanently locked. Our mail box is an ugly, thin metal box soldered through the railings. Its paint is peeling and at most, it will hold a small handful of letters or one free German newspaper.

As I'm expecting various parcel deliveries this week I figure it's easier to wait around for them.

The delivery person buzzes and there's a button in the house which opens the gate. The intercom doesn't work so the only way I can check who's calling is to crane over the sink in the kitchen. Or just go out, key in hand to open it myself. I haven't yet worked out the protocol for this.

One delivery arrived today (petfood). I didn't have time to look out the window so went out clutching my keys. The delivery man was pushing at the gate so I pretended the automatic opening thing didn't work.

Next time I shall press the buzzer and take delivery at the door. It will save me having to lug a very heavy box up the steps. And hopefully I won't be opening the front door to some crazed axe-murderer instead.

I don't normally think like this, by the way. It just all the security just to get into our house that's causing slightly paranoiac thoughts!

Kaffee und Kuchen

Saturday 16th April was when the sun finally came out and boy, did it make a difference.

I took my camera with me on my morning dog walk. This is a statue we pass on the way to the lake - Hubertussee.

There are some great bird-watching opportunities around the lake but I don't have my binoculars yet. I have recognised Black Redstarts, Wrens, Blackcaps, Greater Spotted Woodpeckers, all the tits, sparrows and general garden birds. But there are many others I can't quite identify.

Rhiannon phoned her new best friend while I was out and on my return I was informed she had been invited for a sleepover. We've only been here less than a week and already the hand of friendship is reaching out.

Thankfully, our new car has a rather excellent Sat Nav system so we were able to find her friend's house in Potsdam.

On the way there, we drove through some gorgeous forests and marvelled at the lake views. One of the bridges we crossed made Tim hoot with excitement. It was the "Bridge of Spies" - Glienicke Bridge.

From Wikipedia: During the Cold War, Glienicke Bridge was one of the few places in the world where the Soviet Union and the United States stood directly opposite each other. Thus, “deals” could be made here without any of their allies having any say in the matter. The bridge lies at an isolated joint where US-occupied West Berlin met Soviet-occupied Potsdam, which was in East Germany.

We arrived at our destination where we met a lovely couple and were introduced to a German custom I could certainly get used to, kaffee und kuchen - coffee and cake. Similar to afternoon tea (or elevenses), everyone stops at 3pm or 4pm for kaffee und kuchen. Yum!

After a lovely and informative chat, we left Rhiannon happily playing in the garden with her friend and headed off to do some shopping without a demanding child in tow. We'd had it confirmed that yes, ALL shops close on Sundays and public holidays, without exception. Some shopping malls may open on a few Sundays in the year, but in general, that's it. So I'm now quite worried about just how much planning needs to be done on the shopping front, groceries especially.

We found a duvet and cover, a microwave and a toaster. For some reason the toaster has blue LED lights around the base that flash when it's toasting. It looks like a space-toaster. Unfortunately, that's where our shopping had to stop as none of the stores took credit cards - EC debit cards or cash only. Oh dear.

A huge DIY store was tempting, but we only had enough cash left for a long length of rope so we can tether Kita in the garden so she can enjoy the outside while being safe from escape.

In the evening I insisted on us taking the opportunity to go out to dinner as it was our 5th wedding anniversary on 15th April and, as usual, nothing was done to celebrate it.

We collected Rhiannon the following afternoon and agreed to bring her friend back for a reciprocal playdate / sleepover - to be collected at about 4pm on the Monday.

Before collecting them, we discovered that a mall near Potsdam was open on that Sunday. Thank goodness, because I'd run out of  cat food.

It was OK. There was an amazing amount of Easter stuff on display. I've never seen anything like it! I'd noticed garden trees decorated with coloured eggs around here, but Easter isn't something I've ever celebrated. And of course Japan doesn't "do" Easter at all, being a non-Christian country. I was taken aback at the sheer amount of bunnies, chicks, eggs and all manner of flower arrangements incorporating these items.

We found a large supermarket, a bit like a cross between Tesco and Wal-mart, and got a few items there.

The cat can eat tonight.