Like Father Like Daughter

Called my Niece (8) on the phone at 06:45 pm - as planned.

I thought she´s like me but noooo... blabbermouth ....OVER AN HOUR!

Pic... well.... at one point I put it to the side, enough grass, right? I´m such a boring person! ;-)

She´s an intelligent girl - did you know Compact Cassettes still do exist - as players do, too???

Just like her Dad...a true blabbermouth... over an hour, fighting off her younger Sis who looooves to talk on the phone (but I don´t understand her yet)... ohhhh help ;-)

(The pad where their phone number is noted)

And then she finally - after I reminded her it´s another day of school - she said she has to brush teeth (yay!) and go to sleep (we talked about that, too - boy....).

No, really.

She´s got diabetis 1. And she said her parents send her to bed and pop in 5 minutes later to check her data.
When she´s just about to fall asleep!
Then she´s fully awake again, cetainly!

I suggested to tell them to wait some more, like... Ingo says, wait 30 minutes so I´m sound asleeep before you come to bed.

Tricky.
They might tell me off again for interfering.
But when my Niece tells me it happens nearly every night and I can only give the advice a Dad from a friend gave: Main thing - you´re lying down and get a rest - ...

Well. Let´s see.

What I REALLY thought was frightening....
An eight-year-old telling me time is running too fast.

Is this normal???

Mondays creep away, she said, but esp holidays... BOOM - over.

Kids are kids for only a very tiny time these days?
It kinda broke my heart.

Well, surprisingly she really enjoyed talking to me, we laughed, had "serious" talk... and fun again. Phew, who ever knew??

AAAAAND! She still remembered The Little Giant Girl was in Perth - and that Ingo worked for her as a volunteer!!!
She brought the subject up herself, too!

In the end she said, "I give you to Daddy" - GREAT idea, kiddo, I´ll NEVER get off the phone ;-)

Not "lost in translation" but "lost on the phone" - haha :-)

Well, to Mum. Would be her Birthday today.

We all miss you!
Ingo uses (parts of) your name for some login-names even.

Addendum.
It´s sad I never really could thank the staff in Bad Gandersheim Hospital.
Mum did not react in any way anymore.
The doctors greeted me and explained the rest to her.
That´s what I call respect for the patient, they never gave her up.

When I came with a thank you pressie for all the staff had done the unit was gone, staff was in different units.
Really, they all did a great job, helping me with the breathing mask on her boney head, stroking her, making kind jokes...

We could just walk in, they knew we sanitize our hands and we could stay as long as we wanted, not just 20 minutes.

Lille Ingo

One day Ingo went to buy a cigar.
I didn´t want to join so I waited outside and saw this cute donkey in the next shop.

See his red shorts?
The suspenders are crossed on the back.

When Ingo was little his parents were poor and the shorts he got were too large - and hence lasted two summers, so to make them fit they crossed the suspenders in the front, too.

I just HAD to buy this lille donkey, right?

I hence call the donkey "lille Ingo" :-)

Two Ingos in the house!

Btw... I played on that very same playground 7 years later.

Lion of the day for a change.

Viva!

Well, technically this is not a mural, but on the other hand... in another angle...?

This was 2002.
And I had no idea I have a "ban" for holidays for a longer time (six months no time out as a beginner/new member) - my boss saw I do I good job and let me have that holiday with Ingo none the less :-)

It was beautiful and, by golly, so "sad" I didn´t smoke anymore!

Everybody smokes in Cuba (well, back then at least) and doesn´t Romeo y Julieta sound soooo romantic?

Taking part again in Sami´s COLOURFULWORLD Monday Murals :-)

Mother-Love (?)

I don´t know.
I´m a "child" of the 70´s.

And I was kinda "shocked" to read about how this German Mum stayed with her crying kids when they first started school.

I just don´t get it.

I was a very, very shy child.
My Mum brought me to school and baaaahm. That was it, I had to just deal.
And I did.

OK in second grade the gas station right beside was burning.
And our teacher was so unsensitive he forced us to even paint it.

I got scared and very mad cause our house was nearby, too (different direction, female sense of that, I had no idea).
I cried my soul out and they finally really called my Mum to come over (5 minutes by foot - our house WAS nearby).

But that was very extreme - a gas station on fire!!!
Just wait for the BOOM (didn´t happen).

But a Mum who brings her child EVERY morning into class?! An every morning crying child???? For WEEKS?

We were at Schadt´s and a child in the street was SCREAMING.
Like.... forever. Again and again.

I was told to shut up AT ONCE.
Or I GOT A REASON to scream or cry.

Am I old?
Yes.
But. My Nieces they are told to shut up, too. (They never "get a reason", though).

What is normal these days?

Are kids really not able anymore to deal with new situations?
Will this Mum also be at their side when they apply and hopefully start their first job????

Do they help them in doing this???

I do not get it.

Rant over (this Mum is even proud of herself for doing this!).

(Here is an interesting/ridiculous Spiegel article on it (google sure can translate, if you are interested).

Your opinion? Maybe I´m totally wrong/old?

And It Happened That Way

We - 1995 - for once popped up the tent in Conway NP (OK Ingo did, I just helped).
Usually we slept in the back of the car.

Ingo made fried potatoes (pics are from a night where we had soup). Yum. We watched the possums and I was just too lazy to do the washing up (in the dark, with cold water!).

Possums, right, they eat everything and it´s not healthy, so I grabbed the pan and put it in the front of the car.

Next morning Ingo went to take a shower - sadly a cold one as some stupid people had destroyed the solar system :-(

Well ... he went to take a shower but he could not.

I thought, make yourself useful, do the washing up, grabbed the pan and there it was.

My fingers ick as I type.

It was the most hairy spider I´d ever seen in my life after I lifted said pan.
Thick, brown hair. On it´s icky legs, too.
And it was as big as my hand, too. (Well, minus the fingers)

I thought, HAHA, Ingo, NICE toy!.

And then it moved.

We usually SLEEP in that car!

I screamed in panic "Ingoooo!!!!!"

Oh, my goodness.
Everybody heard it WAS panic (we were in a packed National Park after all and I can obviously get quite loud when in panic), it was serious, so they all came, retirees and hippies - the first too slow, the second just discuss what to do (sorry about the cliché, LOL).

Ingo came running!!!!
If I remember right he had his t-shirt in his hand! :-)

Oh, my goodness.

He tried to get rid of that spider and shouted at me, help me!!!, handing over something, but, I have to admit... I backed off.

Somehow he managed to... I don´t know. It was gone.
EWWWWWW... it was SO ICKY!

Really.
If I´d known about all the insects you have over there I would never ever shown up, LOL.

It was ICKY!

We SLEPT in that car!

Make It Sweet

Ingo came home with another limited edition of poo/loo-tickets.

Theme this time: "Life is short - make it sweet" - that is a great motto indeed.

But... For toilet paper???
I don´t wanna go into much more detail, but what do you think of this constellation?

I think I´m just getting old :-)

Make it s... sweet (what did you think I was going to say? ;-)...)

And It Happened That Way

Well. Last time I told you about the cinema, right.

Ohhhhh did my back hurt - maybe it was the "comphy" chairs?

Ingo hung me up upside down (on his shoulders, too!!!! We were young!) and that helped, but in Wyndham we finally went to the hospital.

The Lonely Planet (hahaha, a guide for "low-cost travellers"!) warned just being looked at costs $35. Well, so what... my back!

They got (now just hold your breath) my urine (ugh - LOL) AND my blood and we waited for the results.

I was told to go in to the doc.
Ingo came with me.

The doc asked where we´re from, what we were doing (driving! All day long, every day, too.), asked me to hop on his table, turned my back in both directions several times (uhhh, the noise), said to get out of the car a couple of times and turn my back and... oh, by the way... gave us tips where to go.

I paid nothing.
Not a cent.

And, this is sad... he said I´m a clean, sober person, he does not have this often.

(An explanation for those who probably don´t know... Aborigines, as Indians cannot have alcohol but since to many the future - and present - is very dim they consume.
I´ve seen sad situations - and promising ones, too!)

This is what happened.

We had some crazy encounters!