Dear Morgensternchen: A totally female perspective on which camera to choose, after a few people have made the mistake of asking me for my opinion and which camera I have and why!

First I have to make two statements:
 a) I am result orientated! Let me give you a practical example what that means. I own one handbag. In that I have spare batteries, a tape measurer, emergency tools, emergency nail varnish, wipes, money, plaster, lynx deodorant, I have teenagers, magic medicine, as in Haribos, safety pins is standard equipment for mums, so I won’t go any further down that route, short,the lot. To repack that every time would take much too much effort. It is much easier to colour coordinate my wardrobe to make that one handbag fit all. Result! It’s exactly the same with my camera. I’m not a gadget person. I’d like to have one camera that does it all. Basta.
b) I’m a woman. I do not get terrible excited about technical details, so that kind of woman I am! A car needs to have 4wheels and be preferably in an easy recognisable colour, my stereo needs to be capable of playing music and I’d like to make phone calls with my mobile. And that’s where the problem starts. Recently in a camera shop, because I need a new camera, after years it’s time to part, so in that camera shop that lovely man, very proud of his job, started to suggest cameras to me. He really tried hard, but it just doesn’t work with me. After third D-suchandsuch is better because soandso I had a shutdown. A complete shutdown.

I shoot with a Nikon D60. I bought it 3 years ago to get me back into photography. Years and years ago or in the olden days, as my charming children like refer to, I used to do the lot ant uni when we were still on film. I did develop my own films and prints. Somehow life got in the way and I never made the transition to digital. When Morgensternchen got me into blogging I needed however pictures. I bought the Nikon D60, because I’m a Nikon person and because the D60 was on sale.
The D60 is what I call a sunshine camera. She does what she is supposed to do in good weather or generally in good conditions. If all you want is to take a snapshot here or a snapshot there she is all right. Question though is why would you want a DSLR in the first place if for that? If that’s all you want why not go for a Panasonic DMC range!? I personally don’t own one, but what I see on flickr are fantastic results (reminder ... point a) I made earlier, results). Leaves the D90 as a minimum starter camera. However I would personally recommend the Nikon D7000. It is a little more expensive, but and this is a big but, you get so much more out of it. In photography you get what you pay for. To name a few the D7000 is weather sealed, very handy at the rugby pitch, great image quality and the higher ISO is good for indoors.

To cut this long story short I pre ordered the D800. I had my eye originally on the D700, however after long collaboration and because the D800 has a movie function and less noise at higher ISO, something very important when you can’t use flashlights or any other lights I decided to go big. I’m doing a lot of sports, rugby and judo mainly, portraits and abstract landscapes and street and younameitIdoit photography. So I need a clever all-rounder. I don’t think it is a starter camera though and I’m convinced it is far to advanced for me, but I’m a quick learner, determined and competitive. I feel at the moment I pushed old Donna (that’s what my D60 is called) too much in too many directions, you name it, she had to endure it. She needs a break from me.
 I shall report back my findings of the D800. Haven’t got a name yet. That will be the most difficult bit.
In the meantime one thing I can recommend is the lens. If it fits on your camera get it: the AF-S Nikkor 70-300mm 4.5-5.6 VR. The stabiliser is amazing. There is a more light sensitive version, but also a lot more expensive. I’m almost so far to say I’m not only a one handbag woman, but also a one lens woman  One way or the other if I had to choose three things to take on a lonely island with me: this lens would probably the first thing I’d pack!

Have a lovely weekend, my friend!
Yours
The one M

Dear Morgensternchen: One Goes West

Dear Morgensternchen,

Malkreis?

On Monday we have a 3 hour operational delay in Chicago! This is my first glimpse of  Americans. I can safely say now, they look like everybody else. 
 I do struggle with the language barrier though. A lovely lady from way down south decides to engage in a conversation. Best and beloved husband asks me afterwards what she said. I have to admit, I haven't got the faintest idea what this lovely woman talked about!

On Tuesday I break my leg. I wish I could say skiing down deep dark black pistes I hit a mogul! I slip at the lift and do a not so graceful backwards flip with my skii going forward. My leg says no to this transaction and brakes.

On Wednesday I'm in surgery. The rest of the day I sleep.

On Thursday I watch 19 home improvement programs. Design to Sell, Design to Let, Divine Design, Curb Appeal , oh yes and not to forget Property Virgin… you name it, I've seen it. Copper rain chains, orange velvet and not to forget chocolate brown carpets are the stuff my nightmares are now made from!

On Friday I get my wheelchair and disappear.

I swear I am the same one M as before and yet people look straight through me. “Does she need help?” addressed at best and beloved husband... “Hellooooo, I'm down here and broke my leg and not my mouth!”

What an eye opening experience this is!

On Saturday I do my first step...

I read a book by Haruki Murakami about running. He quotes an American author in it, forgotten the name. However, I'm re-translating it now back into English and it may loose a little: “Pain is sometimes inevitable, suffering is optional!”

… and do a second step!

On Sunday the sun shines in Colorado and we go to one of these American burger/steak places... washed down with a bud and the world seems suddenly a much better place … the fact that the local police has their dinner there, had absolutely nothing to do with the big grin in my face! (… yes all in uniform ;-)

I booked a table for Monday.... the fire fighters go there Mondays..... 

Lot's of love deary

The one M

Dear Morgensternchen: What a Year!

Dear Morgensternchen,
I know that the Malkreis has finished for this year!
... since I have a glimpse of internet... never know when it breaks down again:
MERRY CHRISTMAS to  you and your family and of course all our flickr and blogging friends!

Biggest of all hugs possible
from
your
The one M

Dear Morgensternchen: Piccadilly 's Calling

Dear Morgensternchen,

Malkreis?

It was a glorious day today... super sunshiny Thursday!
Yes, I met up with Anna for coffee in her hunting ground so to speak. We went to cheerful little place near Oxford Street! Yes, I couldn't believe it myself, those places do still exist.
Risking to sound like Miss Marple, the cup cakes were divine!

However, I took the opportunity to go a little photo shooting after.
Piccadilly is such a great area to do that. So I happily toddle along, when stopped by two foreign students. Gosh, I can't believe how English I have become! They wanted to know if and where there is a supermarket . Although, I knew what was coming, I waited patiently, English, until this young man had finished his question, before I started with my answer, that there is no supermarket as such at Piccadilly, funny enough there is a Boots though! Thinking of it now! Probably makes sense... with all the bars around we need painkillers not food!

Along comes another human being, from somewhere out of the Commonwealth, waits patiently, you see that's why he must have been from somewhere in the Commonwealth, waits until those two foreign students have finished, to ask me where Fortnum and Maison was.
I told him and just out of curiosity I asked him: " Why me? I don't look like an official London tour guide. I could, with my camera, even be a tourist!" He looks up and down and goes:"Naa, not a tourist!" "Why not?" He grins: " You are on your own and someone like you, wouldn't travel alone!" he says and disappears.

And while I'm still thinking about that statement, I spot a middle-aged, tourist, couple and before they can even think of a question, offer my services as a walking info! They look slightly puzzled and reassure me that they are absolutely fine and totally aware of where they are! "Fine! Good! But don't say afterwards I hadn't offered!"

Must have to do with my aura: the aura of competence!

Yours
The one M

Dear Morgensternchen: War of the Roses!

Dear Morgensternchen,

I know there is no Malkreis.

You remember in my last letter I had taken beloved and best husband of all's sports car to get the little ones to their rugby training.

I thought it was highly overreacting to shout at me because I hadn't realised, since my beautiful ship of a car is an automatic, that his's wasn't. I admitt, it was really quite noisy in second gear on the motorway, but somehow I thought, this is how it has to be. After all, why would you want to drive a sports car in the first place:
you can't get into them, nor gracefully out of them. One sits on the floor, well basically and looks into other peoples exhaust pipes! Very exciting it's not!

Now he got really upset and again it wasn't my fault solely, but more because my beautiful ship of a car has these sensors. Whenever I try to park my beautiful ship of a car, it kindly starts to beep when I get to close to what ever object is actually in the way. As soon as it seems to sound as if it had a heart attack I know I have to choose one of the pedals, choice of two, so 50/50, to break.


Somehow the fact that sports cars, another reason not to drive one, don't have these simple necessities wasn't made known to me. So now his bumpers both have, what I think is a tiny dent in both front and rear! After all this is London, which car hasn't got a dent or scratch.

Obviously beloved and best husbands of all car didn't have one.
My personal view is: now I declare this sports car officially a Londoner.

Beloved and best husband of all went without a word to the legal department!

An our later he was back, with the  news, to repair them bumpers is much cheaper then a divorce.

However...the war is on!

He waters my artificial plants, dribbles glue in my shoes, puts a red sock in my white washing, leaves the loo seats up, swoppsmy lipstick with shoe paste, doesn't close any doors or drawers and worst of all serves my coffee in bed in the morning, my first latte in bed in the morning, I should really say, without foamy milk and chocolate. Disaster!

I shall have to think of something!

Yours

The one M

Dear Morgensternchen: Rugby Duties!

Dear Morgensternchen,

I know you flickr right now! Saw you!

Far too late for the Malkreisladies!

However, yesterday I have been on rugby duty! Normally you see, I don't do rugby, because it is far to early on a Sunday morning. I usually don't reach my Betriebstemperatur before 11.00am. This Sunday though, the family was split up due to a festival. So I was left with  the little ones to attend the training at base camp.

Luckily I realised very early on, that is was indeed rugby and not football. It's very easy to distinguish between the two:

If the ball looks like an egg and the players behave like hooligans, it's rugby.
If the ball is round and the SPECTATORS behave like hooligans, it's football.

With that established I happily assisted putting tags on, setting cones up... and was instantly promoted assistant coach. There was little shortage of coaches due to that festival.

Now: a sweet "darling keep the line" didn't work at all. How could I possibly shout at other peoples children. An awe full dilemma.

... and then the whistle went... gosh was I shouting: "hold the ... line!"... "...touch down with both hands you..." " ...ram them into the ground you..." "...finish them of you little..."

Needless to say, we won!

It was a bit funny, as much as my team of six yearolds seem to appreciate me throwing myself completely into it, we are talking rugby here! The parents kept strangely a safe distance to me in the club house after.

On the way back I found out, had taken best hubbie's there is car, because he needed the big one with so many to transport, that that stick in the middle is a gear box. Second gear on the motorway, was a bit noisy... but then it's a sports car. You would want to make some noise.

I don't think he'll divorce me, but it was a close one.

Lot's of testosterone for one day... I'm still exhausted! ... and it's only Monday!

Yours
The one M

Dear Morgensternchen: Postcard

Dear Morgensternchen,

... painters round?

I have, yes I know I said never ever again will I engage with social activities of any kind, even if I'm bored to death on a cold, often rainy football pitch... were was I? Oh OK, I have taken over the match teas for the kids at the football club.

You wouldn't believe the amount of so called "well meant" comments, tips and ideas I get. One gets to believe, I have taken over the United Nations.
I should try this, I should do that... I wonder if they feel so strongly about it, why don't they run it themselves?!

However, you know me, I quickly developed techniques of avoidance.

My first tactic was to put both index fingers in each of my two ears, at the same time. Then I would start humming or singing a lovely tune from my childhood, which would make me feel comfortable. I only would remove them, if there was no sign of mouth movement, which usually meant they had stopped talking.
This technique didn't go down so well, as I had hoped.

Soon after I developed  a more sophisticated approach with the help of beloved and best husband of all.
First  step of this strategy is to put ear (noise reduction) plugs in. The family is briefed and communicates purely by sign language with me.

Second step is, since you don't hear anything, if people talk to your face, put on a stupid grin and nod so obviously, that there is no doubt, that you didn't get it at all.

Final step is then, towards the end of the teas, entry hubby, beloved and best of all, shouts, preferably from the other end of the room, to remind you to switch your hearing aid on!

Funny enough that shuts everybody down!?

 Yours

 The one M

 PS Should you wish to try this technique... never take the ear plugs out at the footy... unless you wish to hear what people are talking behind your back ;-)

Dear Morgensternchen: The Deeper Meaning of Life

Dear Morgensternchen,

are you guys creatively circling the canvases? Giggle!
However, we started this discussion, we'll bring it to an end!
Here are the latest questions to discover the deeper meaning of life:

The first question has to be, why you don't get splinters from wood bark as you get from wood itself?
JR! what were you thinking... at that whiskey again... were you? However I did ask the experts, here is their answer:
Because the wood bark is a completely different texture than wood. The fibres in the wood, when dried, make the splinters, where as the bark is crumbly, when dried out... and by the way, it is much more fun, to dive head first in a heap of leaves than into bark chippings!
I may add that my experts are 6,7 and 9 and warn you, at our age it may not be advisable to jump head first at all. A graceful backwards flip should here the method of choice!

The kids came up with: why do we get homework?
Because grown ups are mean, intolerant and negligent people and haven't got a clue what childhood is about. Time to remember the inner child! I just squeezed tomato sauce over their homework. I got lynched! So they do secretly like their homework! Ha!

Why is there no peace in the house?
You may guess that that's hubbies question.
What with 5 kids, dog, cat and a hamster? You are joking! You should have kept your bachelor pad!

Why is it that drop dead gorgeous, always dressed right, mum at school even wins the prize for the best cake!?
What with 5 kids, dog, cat and hamster?! You didn't even enter the competition!

Favourite saying?
Well, if you had found that post-it with my favourite saying and hadn't misplaced it in the first place, THAT would be it... so now I have to think...
I do like Regina Brett's 36st: Growing old beats the alternative - dying young.

Second favourite saying?
Shit happens!

 And why does shit always happen in sequences of at least threes?
Because it senses that we are vulnerable. It knows when and where to hit us! It is a clever little something! ... and probably because we never trust good times to last ... and are just waiting for the next shit thing to happen!

 I do like this one: why does a toast always fall on that side where you had put the jam on?
That's a really good question and after some flightpath calculation, I can confirm that is is because that side is heavier! Heaviest touch down first!



What's the difference between a man and a woman?
If you don't know it by know (you can obviously read this) there is no hope you'll ever find out. However, there is a simple trick: if it parks a car in a small space very quickly, just to be the first person at the remote control, it is probably the male version of this species. If it asks for directions and picks up everything the male has dropped, you can be pretty certain it's the female version. Due to the breeding program and more expensive schools  however, there can be interferences. Plan B is check curves and beards. Again use all those parameters with precaution.
It's very easy with the modern teenager though: the cloud of fragrances they tend to surround themselves with is a give away!

I hope you find this enlightening.
I'm looking forward to your question and answers.
Yours

The one M

PS Everything in blue are LINKS!

Dear Morgensternchen: Coronation Chicken...

Dear Morgensternchen,

Malkreis? Has it started again?
It's good to be home again.



Wasn’t Nadine’s party great last night?
I know, I was the joke of the season with my ruined Coronation Chicken a la Walldorf with a Caribbean Twist kind of salad. I don’t know what went wrong. Maybe it was because I replaced half the mayonnaise with yogurt. I really tried to make it a little healthier. You see, one shouldn’t. I always believed if you are using mayonnaise, you may as well use the real thing! So it taught me once more: one has to stick to ones guns! Or mayonnaise in this case. Down with half fat!

Luckily I tried the salad before Nadine declared the buffet opened. Can you believe the state of panic I was in?! M&S?! Take away... then I thought in proper German “Manier”, Nadine had terribly over catered and probably food enough for the whole street... yes, they did do street parties for the CORONATION... yes rub it in... me, Mrs Perfect deserves it.

To the bepuzzled guests on entering the kitchen I must have been a rare sight: putting 3 kilo of chicken salad in the bin! Pierre was deeply shocked and feared I would throw away all the food. With a courageous jump he got between me and the buffet trying to save as much as possible! It took a while for him to calm down!

However and since I was introduced for the rest of the night with, she, who ruined the coronation... “Oh, is that you who...” “Yes, it’s me!!!”, I thought I share this wonderful recipy with you.
Here is the absolute fool proof, if you stick to the recipe and don’t try any "to be healthy things", Coronation Chicken a la Walldorf with a Caribbean Twist kind of Salad:

You’ll need, depending on the number of guests you are expecting, I would go for probably 3 dead chicken. To make sure they are really dead you have to cook, boil or as I prefer roast them. Now if you would like to know how to perfectly roast a chicken, go on the internet or more traditional refer to something that is called a cook book. If you don’t have one, mention that to friends and family and you will find, that next Christmas you will be able to open a nice cook book shop with the amount you will receive. A nice side income in these hard times by the way.

Back to the dead chicken. Tear it apart till you have the flesh in bite size pieces on one side and the carcass on the other. I spare you a picture of these trusting your imagination.

It would be a good time now to start chopping up about 2 pounds of fresh pineapple, again into lovely eatable little chunks. I do prefer fresh pineapple and since we are cheating with this recipe immensely, I just find it is only fair to put in a little effort. In a hurry though, you may used chopped, tinned pineapple. On the other hand the time you need to find that opener thing and then to realise it has run out of of batteries, you may as well have chopped this yellow fruit by hand. Well, that’s my strong, personal view.

Now comes the fun bit. You mix all the ingredients together in a big bowl with 300g of full, fat, creamy, yummy mayonnaise. Enjoy this bit, since this mayonnaise is going to sit on your hips for a very long time. So the harder you mix, the more calories you burn... you see where I’m going?!With that mix in a good tablespoon or two or three of medium curry powder. This is really to taste.


My little secret ingredient is curry ketchup, as it is known in Germany. Again it is up to you and your sweet tooth, how much. I would put in 3 good squirts of that stuff. If you don’t have it use normal tomato sauce and a little more curry powder. It gives a good colour.

To come to an end, let it rest in the fridge for a couple of hours. You may find it needs a little salt now. Transfer the whole stuff to a nice clean bowl.



Trust me, you were much better of without my Coronation Chicken a la Walldorf with a Caribbean Twist kind of salad.

I should have called it, reflecting on it now, Thai twist!!!

However, I recovered quickly from the food poisoning!
I do have to say I am etarnaly grateful that you instead of an ambulance called the firefighters. Weren't they goergous?!

Yours thankfully

The one M

PS Did you see it? Did you? I'm flickring, linking... I have truely arrived in the... which century are we in right now? I always forget.

Dear Morgensternchen: Flowery Greetings

My dear little Morningstar...

Sorry but I am in such a good mood. Actually I just made myself laugh. Look at this:

I call it "Somethin's Missin!".

I really tried hard to take some serious flower shots:

" We would like to anounce the birth of our baby son Marmaduke!"

And then, when I thought it couldn't get better, see for yourself: fairies at the end of my garden

And another:

No it is only days away and you will be here!!! JUHU, brace London.

Have a nice rest of Sunday day.

The one M

PS More photos on my flickr page .

Dear Morgensternchen: Thunder, Storm and Lightning

Dear Morgensternchen,

Sorry that I am in such a melancholic mood. It must have to do with that thunderstorm.

I am watching a bee flying again and again against the window... that makes me think, how stuck we sometimes are in our little world not capable of looking beyond. Worrying about money, schools, how we look, what other people think, afraid of heights.

Being afraid raises awareness, but to much of it, limits the horizon.
A little tick here, a little tick there.
Evil, evil fear and yet without it, would we change? By overcoming and facing it, we rise. Confidence is build. It is build because, we have met the other side. Yin and Yang. One can’t exist without the other.

I think I'll treat myself to Her Morning Grace and a coffee. Java? Java!

The bee will have a terrible headache later!
Life is there to be lived, as my banana farming Aussie friend always says!
... and while we'r at it, we may as well enjoy it!

Yours

faithfully

The one M

PS You'll find Oren Lavie's, Her Morning Grace, @:http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2_HXUhShhmY&feature=fvst

PS2 I don't think, I would like to be in that aeroplane in the third picture ;-)

PS3 In the end, she was so exhausted, that she did let me free her...

Dear Morgensternchen: 10 Top Tips to Look 10 Years Younger

Dear Morgensternchen,

Malkreis? Are you girls busy or do you have a minute?

I am so glad to hear all went well and that Nicola is now the proud mother of a baby daughter.
Makes me reflect on the birth of my children.... I remember that I looked around in the ward at all these mothers looking at their ugly babies. They must have been brainwashed or wear some kind of pink contacts. The minute I saw my baby though I did exactly the same. My baby was of course the most beautiful crinkly thing I had ever seen. Maybe it’s the gas.

I like the idea instead of sending flowers, we write a little handy guide for the first time mother.
The golden rule has to be, let him do it. It will be the only time in your life when he is willingly holding the door for you, carry the shopping and if you are very lucky, even changes a nappy.

I couldn’t agree more that sofas with loose cushions are a big no no. They are fantastic to build caves and paths, but the time you spend rearranging them is exorbitant. Nothing prepares you for that. Wasting one's time seems to be the thing you get very efficient as a mother. Just think of the washing or worse ironing.

Yes, and never ever keep pasta in the bottom drawer or cabinet. Unless you enjoy, therapeutically so to speak, picking up single, dried Spaghetti from the floor. I saw in Mumbai actually a woman sorting coloured rice corns. Maybe I'm just not in the right frame of mind.

However here is my guide to look 10 years younger after you had a baby, because having a baby makes you look and feel at least 15 years older. So to set us a realistic target 10 years younger should be fine:

1. Choose something to wear that actually fits. I used to put something on which was lying around. I am afraid this way I invented the bulky, baggy jeans look by grabbing something from beloved and best husband of all. It was an accident. Really. Sorry world.

2. Colours: either a mushy grey/green/blueish brown or something with a nice busy pattern so you don’t see the stains of various origins. Scarves are great. This way not only can you introduce colour to your mushy grey/green/blueish brown wardrobe, but they are also a great source as an emergency wipe.

3. Shoes: try to wear matching socks and shoes. It just finishes of the well groomed look we are after.

4. Forget a nappy changing bag. Go for one of these executive trolleythingies with wheels. Not only is that better for your back, but also it will make you look very professional. And think big. The amount of dummies, dollies, nappies is unbelievable.

5. Now you have to keep up with showering. Otherwise you loose too many people. Zip up little one in the car seat, safe, and take with you to the bathroom. Trust me, you will get used to the fact that a little baby is staring at you, thinking you are completely mad.

6.Brush your hair . Purely by chance I found out that a comb or brush can work magic on your hair.

7. The mystery of the “one plugged eyebrow”: who with kids doesn’t know, little monster insists on your full attention the second you finished plugging your one eyebrow. This is a top tip: cross-section each of your eyebrow into 3 equal parts. The inner, the middle and the outer section. Now start plugging by section, for example both inner sections first and so on. This way at least the symmetry is given.

8. I know there is no time for things like body lotion. It becomes quite an alien concept actually. However do make some time for deodorant. Top tip here is, have some on the go. I have always an emergency ration in my handbag. It’s great, like on the tube, the first moment you actually sit down. Some people do get offended by this attention to personal hygiene. But don’t worry, they are just narrow minded.

9. Keep the makeup simple. It can only go wrong... and to be honest, a bit of mashed carrot can look quite cute on your cheek.

10. Exercise: very important to get back into shape. The easiest would be, to move into a three storey house with the nursery on the top floor. By the time you’ve changed nappies, clothing and went to get the favourite toy, you have done a fair amount of exercise. The money saved on gym membership fees you could spend to pay of the huge mortgage. (You had to move into an area with good schools!)

Congratulations and welcome to the club, dear Nicola.


Never forget the mantra: It’s a phase. In the end you are going to be fine.
Try to smile as much and often as you can. A smile makes you look 10 years younger and him richer, at least that’s what my plastic surgeon always says. I’ll text you the number ;-)

Lot's of Love
And a huge hug!

The one M

PS I found all these fantastic blogs with lovely girly stuff! Baby Bella will be the best dressed baby in the world! I am on a mission!

PS2 ... and lost it again: so if someone finds it could you let me kindly know? One had this lovely Cinderella dress and the other one: pink patchwork curtains!

PS3 ... anymore handy ideas for the young mother?

Dear Morgensternchen: Revision Time

Dear Morgensternchen,

( My kitchen during revision time!)

You would like to know what revision time is!

Well...Just those simple words create shock waves through the parental spine.

It’s revision time again, you gonna leave me. I can see that far away look in your eyes... Concentrate child! Exams are lurking around the corner! You don’t have time... any time... no daydreaming! Do you UNDERSTAND? Earth to child, do you copy?

Panic, panic seems a good concept.

It is about that week, half term, in May when search engines go in overload. Bite size is the magic word. At the end of it are the exams, mock or not, they have to be taken seriously.
Revision time is when the sale of valium and ulcer treatments goes through the roof.Revision list? I’ve got French, swop with RE.
What, they gave us the wrong revision list?! This is NOT FUNNY! They did that on purpose. Evil!

In the revision week we, as in parents, don’t sleep, don’t eat. We run around with shadows underneath our eyes as big as car tyres.

Romans, percentages, grammar and spellings... come on, this has to be quicker. The Aztecs used crushed black beetles to treat spots. Do I really want to know?!
Food chains... Sainsbury’s?

Text messages just fly back and forth and slow down the whole mobile network. Last minute tips and hints.

Tudors... do we do Tudors? Aren’t Tudors so last year?
I don’t care about Madame’s feelings and if Monsieur Roche’s hobbies are exciting. Je regrette. Je ne compront pas. I don’t want to!
Magnetism. Well, is when this metal thingies stick to the magnet, which is usually red and blue. I never liked red and blue. Pink and blue are so much nicer.
Rainforest. Definitely. Lots of rain I would think. Water cycle... evaporation is what seems to happen to my glass of wine in the evening, when I finally collapse on the sofa.
Not forgetting that Chisinau is the capital of Moldova ... and no, Belgium is not the capital of Germany.

Streets are deserted... just plenty of those little motorbikes that deliver the thousands of take always during that time. Time to cook? Are you mad? I have to work out what human geography is. It’s not humane! It’s fierce. It creeps up on you in the middle of the night. Makes you wake up in cold sweat. Where is the difference between human and environmental geography?
Why oh why?

Then we go back to school. Have Lucosates ready. Quick head and neck massage and of into the arena. Remember this, remember that. Last minute checks.
Just a little elbowing at the results board and...

... and finally... it’s all over! Forget carnival in Rio. Come to United Kingdom, where you will find parents united. Dancing in the streets. Hugging each other. Sharing these moments of total inner relief. It’s over, it’s going to be our entire parental fault, but it is over. Tranquillity returns to the house. We talk normally again. We care again.
Blessed are those who don’t know what revision is.
Blessed are you me dear friend.
You did ask.

Yours faithfully
The One M

Dear Morgensternchen: A Survival Guide to Cricket

Dear Morgensternchen,

Got a minute? Or Malkreis?

Thank you for your lovely letter or painting actually. I love the colours.

I do agree as you said in your letter, if you type cricket for beginners into a search engine the vast amount of “ins” and “outs” and “overs” is not to be understood.

The fact that you now have to go and watch a school cricket match is however completely self-inflicted: You had to become a godmother of an English boy. Didn’t you. Tough! I told you so! You have been warned!

But in time of need, what are friends for!?

If to you, the concept of cricket is as alien as it was to me, here is the ultimate guide to how to survive school cricket. Of course one could argue, don’t go at all, but that would probably terribly upset the offspring. So given that there is no real alternative, one has to face the enemy.

There is a way of survival. First pretend that this is your very first cricket match. People can talk for hours on end about it; very handy considering you’ll be there for while. They will appreciate that you are fantastic listener and share their views happily with you, not noticing that you don’t say a word.

When that little stick falls of those other longer sticks (you’ll see what I mean, when you are actually there) that is your only chance as a spectator to swing into action. Clapp franticly, since this is your one moment to move for at least hours. But be careful check if other parents YOU KNOW are doing the clapping bit. You may be cheering for the wrong team.

If you don’t recognise any of the other parents check:

First if your boy is actually on that playing field. You may have gone to the wrong school fields. If so, leave the group quietly and go in search for the right field.
Secondly “Are our sons in the same class/ school or in the parallel class/ school?” helps to establish if you are on the right side of the pitch. It is a bit tricky since they are all dressed in white and look pretty much the same. You could buy your boy one of these silly cricket hats. They don’t seem to mind wearing them. That gives you a little marker.

Now, back to the rules. The little person throwing and the little person catching are of the same team, not the little people with the bat. After halftime they swop around just to add to the confusion. The rest of team hangs around until they have to catch a ball, not without the little people in the middle then running hectically back and forth should a cricket ball been batted and airborne. This is why the scores are called runs. Although the runs seem to be the thing to do, there is little of it. Don’t worry about it touching and bouncing of that ball. There are more rules, but they don’t seem to be terribly important.

Another approach is to position yourself next to the headmaster’s wife or any person of equally high authority. Copy whatever the headmaster’s wife is doing. It may in the beginning be a bit irritating for her and you may be called all sorts of things. Trust me in the long run though the phrases you collect this way can be lifesaving. So stick to her. Try to pick up as many phrases as you can. A “Did we already do fours or sixes?” shows the distinguished cricket expert. A jolly “Where is the Pimm’s?” always loosens up the watching crowed. Unfortunately Pimm’s is actually never served at school matches, which is a real shame.

Now the golden rule of rules:
Try to look like everybody else around you. You know, that aura of “a hint of sophisticated arrogance” comes from the fear that someone could detect, that they haven’t got a clue what cricket is about.

Which I believe is the bottom line of cricket:

Nobody actually knows the rules... So really: make up some rules as you go along and in no time you will be “commentating at the Oval”. That seems to be a sacred circket palce of some kind. The good news is: they do serve Pimm's there, so I heard.

There is hope. Good luck.

I’m awaiting mission report soon.
Lots of love
Yours faithfully

The one M