Since 2 days I feel better, not so very ill, in general.
But still headache, swollen sinuses and dizziness - it is not yet healed.
Today finally I can go to the doc and hear the histological result. Yesterday we finally could got to the vet. Normally, thecat was notto get, but yesterday we couldsuddenlyand unexpectedlyoutwit her (whichvulgarity!). Nowfilamentsaredrawnandwith the the catall right.
When I cleared away the Christmas decorations, I had a strong longing for spring and I gave my kitchen window and a spring-like touch.
In the photo above you see it in daylight.
But we often have dark and grey days here and we like to sit at lunch or tea time with fairy lights and candles.
Thus, it appears warmer. Photos below.
When I came from the hospital, me often was cold and I've created in the library room a warm corner.
It often takes just a few things to give a room more warmth or coolness, as just needed.
Again one blogger has given up (RA Ranch Berkshires)
I appreciated his soulful photos in professional quality.
It's always so sad, especially when the whole blog disappears, which was to see for any time.
I don't know the reasons and the blogger is living very far away.
But it's a similiar feeling like a person who was seen for a long time every day, maybe on the way to work, now to see no more. And you ask why....
You will never find out. It's sad.
As poetically part I've chosen today an old Sovjet movie song about a worker train in the morning.
The movie is from the 70ies, but that was not only in Sovjet Union, I know this from the GDR also.
Every morning there were many buses and trains traveling and brought workers to their works. I am also driven some time.
Usually autistic people do not like full buses and trains.
This is also in my case, but I still have fond memories of those trips. The people were familiar by sight and for a long time on every day, thengave good contacts. So it worked for me too.
Since then, no more ...
Ever since the collapse of the communist regime has changed the whole working culture.
Today they often have "job"s only for a short time and not "work"... and each for himself alone, driving their own cars, isolated. Cohesion and contacts hardly yet and for people with disabilities is not a place in this world.
And who does not own a car, can find not a job anyway.
Okay, now I don't longer need to search, I'm retired... - this has its good and less good (living in totally isolation).
For me this song and video has an warm and nostalgic feeling. Simple a nice memory...
You can’t just say stuff like that, she told me, people will think you’re serious & I nodded & said I know & won’t they be surprised when they finally figure it out & she shook her head & said she should probably make plans then for a backup husband.
The young girl was a stranger in town. She came by bus every time and went to the theater to exercises - she dreamed to stay a ballerina.
She looked around as she walked through the streets and saw these houses. Very special houses as they were only there.
She liked these houses.
Often she stopped to look in front of one house - it had a magically round window!
The house itself was run down and was inhabited by much to many tenants... and under the trees played some children.
Then she saw behind the hedge the older woman. She wore around her shoulders a black scarf with colorful mountain ash patterns on it.
Such scarfs did not exist in Germany and it had some moth holes.
She stared at the scarf and whispered: рябина.
She did not know that was been heard. Rjabina - a wonderful word ...
Da da, rjabina... came the answer and the woman smiled.
Thus began a friendship. Her name was Jevgenya.
Often after the exercises the girl was sitting with her. Evgeniya prepared tea, singing softly a song.
Later they read together poems by Turgenev, Nekrasov, Jesenyn, Daniil Kharms, Osip Mandelstam, Marina Zvetayeva and others... So the girl learned the language, that her had always fascinated.
Jevgenya told how they had fled as a young girl with her parents before the revolution.
How they lived in Berlin in the twenties and many artists and poets went with them on and off. It was an interesting and eventful time. The young Andrei Bely wrote and recited his "Glossolalia" and they discussed the nights pass ... they had a famous and artful world in this time.
But it was not to last. As the dark times befell Germany, they had to flee. They were homeless, hiding in different countries. Her parents did not survive.
After the war, Jevgenya came back to devastated Germany - to Russia she could not. And elsewhere was not home ..
She found work with the writing of notes, as the theater began to play again. There was hardly to find any printed notes and the singers all neede their parts. Later she accompanied the singer during rehearsals at the piano, because she had learned as a child playing the piano well.
The theater made sure that they got this apartment and here she was still alive to this day.
Had collected books and much bought back what once was lost. Only the scarf with the moth holes shecould preserve during all the time , it had survived all escapes.
One day the girl found the door locked. Sadly, she went home by bus.
In the next week the same thing ...
Jevgeniya? - She went to the hospital and did not come back, said one of the children.
The windows were empty without forehand, without candles. All books had been taken away. Soon new tenants came.
The girl lost in one fell swoop her grandmother and best friend ...
Well, life went on and soon had the girl to go in another town. She never came back to the exercises of the theater ...
But the Russian language and the culture she kept in her heart.
40 years later a woman came into the hospital nearby. She looked around and saw the house. It was just demolished.
Jevgenyas room was open.
Long the woman was standing at the fence and looked over.
Then she heard the distant melody softly and it seemed to her as an angel with a scarf full of moth holes was flowing over the house.
The storyis fictional, witten for Linda's "Wednesday Wits and Wisdom". ReallyI don't knowwho was living there. Real isjust that I as a younggirlwasfascinated by this kind ofhouses in Halberstadt .
I had a dream & I heard music & there were children standing around, but no one was dancing.
I asked a little girl, why not? & she said they didn’t know how, or maybe they used to but they forgot
& so I started to hop up & down & the children asked me, Is that dancing? & I laughed & said, no, that’s hopping, but at least it’s a start & soon everyone was hopping & laughing & it didn’t matter any more