We are going to visit our friends in South Germany in the summer holidays and I want to share with you my absolute favorite moment whenever we visit them:
I wake up in the morning to the chirping of birds and I can hear the lovely mother, Maria, rummaging around in the kitchen downstairs making breakfast. I sneak into the bathroom, trying not to make any noise because everybody else is still sleeping. When I come down the stairs, I sit down at the kitchen table and Maria has a hot cup of tea and a piece of her freshly-baked cake ready for me. (Maria and her family eat homemade cake for breakfast, yummy!) By the time that I finish sipping on my hot tea and eat the last crumbs of the delicious cake, everybody else will have smelled the mouthwatering scent of tea and cake . They come down the stairs and sit down, read the newspaper, have breakfast and talk about what we are going to do that day. These are moments of total peace and happiness to me.
i just came back from a piano recital and i almost sh*t my pants before i had to play. please excuse my language i am still recovering from that experience. 😀 but fortunately it went well!
May is finally showing its sunny side and a lot of guys from my school walk around in shorts. My friend looked at all of the hairy man-legs and made a comment, that really cracked me up:
A quilting group is in the process of setting up an exhibit in a local café where I am sitting. It is fascinating to see how harmoniously and quietly they decide what quilt should hang where and who should do what about making sure these decisions are made true.
All winter I was longing to see the green leaves on the trees in front of our house and now that I see the luscious green sensations on the trees it does not have the right effect, because the sun is hidden somewhere behind the giant white clouds. But maybe the sun will come out tomorrow, who knows.
So to cheer everybody up, who is experiencing equally bad weather :
The neighbour who loots the public poop bag dispenser across the road, to use as garbage bags, instead of going down the street 100m to the next drugstore and buying the things himself.
(He actually waits for the city worker to refill the dispenser, comes out of his apartment, empties the dispenser, folds the bags properly together and returns into his apartment building. What a cheapskate!)
The coat of snow that fell early this morning is trampled down by the constant flow of wooley bundled children on their way to the school. The sidewalk in front of my apartment is covered in slush, ice, gravel, sand, salt, and the general despondency of a long winter’s malcontent.
My boot toe catches on a partially frozen child’s mitten, slowly rising to the top of the filthy mush. Dirty beyond belief, it lies there dejected, forgotten, oh so lonely. No longer capable of calling its twin, who undoubtedly is abandoned in some overflowing school lost-and-found box around the corner from its match.
Muffled steps, snow-covered gables. Father pulling his two rollypolly kids along on a sled. I peek out the window, but stay indoor instead of joining the drunken waddle of strangers in the street.
Short Short Stories 