Bezirk [1] in Berlin© – 38:  December 13, 2012 

NOT THAT I’M NOSY…

I’m not really nosy, but I am a tad curious.  I spend more than a few minutes at my laptop, which is in front of my living room window.  So I can’t help but see the comings and goings of my neighbors across the street. For example, I’ve started to see someone walking a new baby back and forth, so I’m pretty sure somebody has an addition to their family.  One flight up, from time to time, I see a red light.  This is fairly new, and I can’t help but wonder what it is.  Has a Lady of the Evening set up shop?  Or is it a spy, who turns on the light when he needs to deliver some information.  Or, maybe, it’s something far more mundane, such as a Christmas decoration of some sort.

A WORD TO THE WISE

It sometimes gets cold here, so wearing more than one layer of clothing helps make things a tad more bearable.  But you need to pay attention and plan ahead for certain things when you have on lots of layers of clothing, particularly when you need to pee.  First, while it’s never a good idea to wait until the last minute just to see how long you can last, when you have on multiple layers of clothing, you need to allow extra time to accommodate that.  And, second, you need to really pay attention and make sure you have pulled down ALL the layers before you seek blessed relief! (Another advantage men have over women – they can actually SEE what’s going on down there!  Women just have to guess!)

I REALLY DO LOVE COUPONS

I subscribed to a coupon service – Groupon – via e-mail.  Even if I never use a single coupon, the entertainment value is tremendous.  For example, a while back, there was a coupon to get a pedicure, in which your feet would be exfoliated by tiny fish, who would nibble the dead skin off your feet.  Today, there was a coupon to take a Christmas tour of Berlin.  OK, so not so strange, right?  But is this tour by bus?  Nope!  Is it perhaps by horse?  Nope!  It’s riding in a carriage pulled by llamas.  It’s hard to pass THAT up!  Think of the conversational value.  For instance, when I go to my 50th high school reunion next year, I can casually ask folks what they did for Christmas.  When it comes by turn to say what we did, I can say that we toured Berlin by llama.  Or maybe I don’t even have to ask folks what they did for Christmas and I can just work it into the conversation, as in, “Well, your story about your cruise to the Bahamas reminds me of our Christmas tour around Berlin in a llama-drawn carriage.”  Or, preface a story with something like, “When we were touring Berlin in a llama-drawn carriage, we went past the Hotel Adlon, where Michael Jackson held his infant son out the window.”

7 BLUEBERRIES

Every evening while we’re watching TV, we have a little snack.  Whenever I can manage it, when snack time comes, William and Electra will be snuggled up with me on the sofa, giving me a reason to make Harvey fix the tea and snack.  One can’t possibly disturb kitties when they’re comfortable!  After all, they work so hard to get comfortable.  (Unless, of course, it’s time to watch TV and William is curled up on the irresistible maroon chenille blanket, in which case I have to pick him up and bring him onto to sofa with me.)  Well, last night Harvey used the left-over waffles and blue berries, with a little yogurt, for our snack.  Lovely!  So this morning when I was fixing breakfast, I discovered 7 blueberries in the fridge.  Seven!!  Who in their right mind would leave 7 blueberries?  And why?  I suppose one reason is that, since there was an uneven number, it confused him.  [Clearly, we’ve been watching far too much ‘Monk’ recently!]  OK.  There are at least two things he could have done with those 7 blueberries:  (1) give each of us 3 and just pop the odd one into his mouth; or (2) just eat all 7 himself.  In either case, if he had done that, I would never have known.  But leaving 7 lonely, pitiful little blueberries alone in the fridge overnight?  Really?

FASTING

This morning at breakfast, Harvey made a suggestion—he proposed that we should fast one day a week.  To fully appreciate the timing of this suggestion, I must remind you that he had just finished his breakfast so his belly was full at the moment.  My response was this:  How about YOU fasting 2 days a week, and I’ll just keep on having regular meals.  Initially, that didn’t make any sense to him (as if the whole fasting business made any sense at all!).  However, after thinking about this a moment,  he re-assessed the wisdom of sharing a very small flat with a woman whose blood sugar levels are precipitously low and how that may substantially diminish the likelihood of his surviving a 24-hour fast.

GINGKO KILLS

No doubt many folks take gingko pills to help improve (or retain) their memory.  And I don’t know whether it works or not, but I’m not talking about taking gingko pills being dangerous.  The gingko works in a far more insidious way to kill.  Here’s how it works.  Our street is lined with gingko trees, and they are quite lovely, especially in the fall when they turn yellow.  Alas, there are two kinds of gingko trees – male ones and female ones.  Unfortunately, the idiot who decided which tree to plant happened to choose the female trees, which yield lots of beautiful yellow fruit (from which, no doubt, the memory-saving formula is made).  What makes this unfortunate is that this fruit has a stench that is absolutely unbearable.  The fruit falls onto the sidewalk; folks walk on it; and the squashed fruit emits an even stronger smell than the whole fruit.  Imagine vomited dog doo-doo.  Then imagine something 10 times as repulsive.  That’s the smell from gingko fruit!  Despite the fact that the sidewalk sweepers come on a regular basis to our street, the tree bears its fruit almost faster than they can sweep it up.  So, to avoid walking through it, and pulling my shopping cart through it, I decided to walk in the street.  Our street is only 1 block long, but cars do use it from time to time, and it so happened that one of them almost got me today.  So, gingko can kill you!!

TIME CHANGE

Several weeks ago, we went off Daylight Savings Time.  It’s a tad easier in the fall, because you get to sleep an hour later.  Nonetheless, there are certain creatures who don’t seem to respect the time change, specifically our Devon Rex, Ms. Electra, who not only tries to get us up early to feed her at what had been her regular breakfast hour, but also tries to herd us to bed an hour early.  She’s not content to go to bed alone – she wants us to go with her, so she can slip under the covers and steal heat from us.

I KNOW WHAT HE’S DOING….

What I want to know is what he THINKS he’s doing.  William is staring at his water bowl.  He’s not drinking the water, nor is he playing with it—he’s just watching it with an intensity that might be warranted if it were the case that it might at any second reveal, say, the winning number for next week’s lotto and if he so much as blinks, he might miss it.

William the Wonder cat - 22 - Water Bowl

 WILLIAM AND THE CHRISTMAS TREE

 Cats and Christmas trees are rarely a good combination.  Nonetheless, we have grandchildren, and I want them to appreciate all the special ornaments we have.  For example, when our son was born, my Dad and Step-Mom bought him a mobile.  I have since taken the little animals off the mobile and turned them into Christmas ornaments.  Most of our ornaments have stories behind them and there’s no way to pass on those stories if the ornaments stay in a box in the basement.  William is ‘helping’ us by alerting us to those ornaments that are vulnerable to being pulled off the Christmas tree.  Given that he has no language to simply point out these ornaments, he has to demonstrate these vulnerabilities by exploiting them.  Sigh!  Well, after all, he is still a kitten (despite weighing 16 pounds).  He’ll be 2 years old in February, which is the equivalent to 25 in human years –the time in a young man’s live when he carouses and drinks and generally raises hell.  After cats reach 2 years, each subsequent year equals about 4 human years, so maybe in about 2 more Christmases, the tree will have a fighting chance.  Electra, on the other hand, who is 12 years old (65 in human years), poses no threat whatsoever.  First of all, during the cooler months, she’s quite content to stay under the covers — sometimes she’s even willing to forego a treat if it means she has to leave her warm little nest.  Even so, she’s never been a particularly curious cat—I  think that she was hiding behind the door when they passed out ‘curiosity’ – so even as a kitten,  she never posed a threat to our Christmas trees.

AND, SPEAKING OF THE HOLIDAYS….

William, Electra, Harvey and I wish you the very best of pleasant holidays and a marvelous New Year!


[1] ‘Bezirk’ is German for ‘neighborhood.’

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