Category Archives: uncurable addictions

i feel like a pigeon with a very strong homing instinct trained on yorkshire – it has been over a year, since i last strolled down the streets of york, listening to the minster bells and over two years, since i spent that delightfully sunny day at whitby, when i fell in love with whitby and decided that i want to grow old there and be buried in the graveyard by the sea – i love the sea, wherever i go, but whitby really has that special feeling of safety and adventure about it, that draws me in and does not let me go

but i also feel like a day on the moors with only sheep and the wind to keep me company – or a walk up to top withens with all those wuthering heights and heathcliff emotions floating around me and inspiring me to start writing again, instead of sitting at my desk all day, lost for words and lost for inspiration because germany is just plain old boring and people are unfriendly, rude, and, simply put, not english!

it is obvious to anybody, that i was born in the wrong place, since people keep on asking me, if i am english all the time – and while i have strong feelings for my home as well – after all, i do love fairy tales (reading and writing them) and the brothers grimm were pretty much my neighbours from very long ago – and germany has some wonderful places and memories – but it is only ever in england that i feel truly like home, like i belong, and fit in perfectly – and it is always to yorkshire that i am pulled by invisible forces – perhaps my ancestors really did come from england – after all, i have to have gotten the red hair and the weird sense of humour from somewhere along the line

anyways, all this reminiscing  was just the introduction – i have handed in my application to give a presentation at a conference in leeds in january and i am terrribly excited about it and do so desperately hope that i get in – i want to talk and tell people about my work and research and my fascination with yorkshire – but i have decided, that even if i don’t get to talk, i’ll still go and this knowledge is like a little glowing spark right inside of me – it keeps me happy and warm and feeling like dancing along the streets – i don’t care, that it might be cold and dreary in january – i love yorkshire and just like david hockney i love seasons and how they change nature, so i’ll put up with the cold and rain and snow, if i get to spend time there – i am planning to stay 5 to 7 days and am really, very excited, preparations have already started: writing old friends, planning outings to whitby and the wildlife trust reserves with the volunteers, and hot chocolates at la place verte because that is, what happiness is all about


delicious space cookie tea for me, me, me – samova teas not only have great and creative names, the taste is totally out of this world – i am presenly zoned out somewhere in space, floating along on a cloud of taste and feeling perfectly at peace with the world and myself


one of my favourite party questions (and i am always the ultimate winner) is: “so, what was your first real concert?” – as embarrassing moments of the kelly family, backstreet boys and such unfold, i cannot help but smirk, knowing that, even if it isn’t to their taste, my first concert experience is going to blow their mind – i was in grade 5 and i had a pretty cool music teacher, kind of an old hippy and instead of boring us with learning notes and singing stupid kid’s songs, we learnt about american gospel and the beatles – one day i got home and as i was always one for sharing, i was singing paul maccartney’s hope of deliverance at the top of my voice – remember, i was just wee 10 years old and my parents were rather astonished – but i wasn’t to be stopped and demanded to listen to my mom’s off the ground record in an infinite loop wherever we were going

for my 11th birthday they gave me tickets to paul’s new world tour and in september 1993 (more than half my lifetime ago), we went to see him live in dortmund – and that’s how my first rock concert was paul mccartney – it never fails to impress the embarrassed ex-boygroup-junkies and i still love my parents to bits for this awesome present – i began a true love story with great music, listening to the beatles, paul’s solo stuff and then moving on to queen – and even though i now sometimes listen to silly and not that great music, i carry the treasure that is my early musical education with me wherever i go in life and listening to some of the songs instantly makes me feel good and safe and loved and happy

today as i was indulging in a beatles and paul fest on youtube, i found this little gem, which started my whole reminiscing on the topic – isn’t it simply delightful? it reminds me of david hasselhoff, but is SO much better – it’s funny and whimsical and smart and an instant feel-good and laugh at the worries of life video – go watch and be happy


“strawberries, and only strawberries, could now be thought or spoken of — the best fruit in england — every body’s favourite — always wholesome” (jane austen)

there’s nothing sweeter than a sunny sunday afternoon spent picking strawberries and gossiping with a good friend – so at the first sign that today was not to be one of those drear rainy june days, of which we had plenty this year, we took the chance and planned a drive out to the strawberry fields – we weren’t the only ones – seemingly half the city had had the same idea – yet there were strawberries for everyone – we each picked our fill, all the while stuffing our faces with the biggest and sweetest berries and yapping away about football, men and the ennui of working and studying life – afterwards we rewarded ourselves with more strawberry feasting in the sunshine before returning to our respective writing desks and tasks in happy anticipation of even more strawberry eating during the game tonight

really, that is how sundays in the summer should be spent! – strawberries, a little bit of light work and a football match to look forward to

 


i wanna be canadian, eh!


i really don’t dig vampires, but this is pretty cool and i want it, oh i want it, oh i want it!

also cool – do the vampire knitting type test – i am “a careful, thoughtful knitter, like Edward Cullen or Angel.” – oh great … this just takes me back to:

why, though?

and

damn right!