Letters from a Listener

Fairytales are good for children, Bruno Bettelheim wrote a whole book about it. And I agree. Only in me they had the effect that from an early age on I believed in wishful thinking. I still do, secretly. I will be 74 in two days (but only on the outside) (and if nobody looks, I am still skipping), but in many ways I have remained the little girl who marvels at the world as it is - and wonders how she can change it for the better! You see, I was born only three years after the end of WW II, when my hometown Hamburg was still in ruins. In the streets you often saw men with only one arm or one leg, and some, like my best friend`s father, would just sit at the table and never spoke a word. It should have been hopeless. But it wasn`t! Germany got immense help to rebuild its economy from America. The Marshall Plan was incredible, and so were all the Care Packages that American families sent to German families, which helped many children to survive. I will never forget this. I fell ill with t

Although Blogger still shrugs its shoulders and says, THAT blog address? No, that doesn`t exist - I will just carry on for a while, chatting patiently with myself, getting some sense into my always rather entangled thoughts. It helps writing them down, the advisers say. And though I distrust any kind of "Advisers" or even "Influencers", this is a piece of wisdom which I find true. What I, however, really like on the internet are all the wonderful tutorials they offer, even for free (or for data, possibly). And TED talks too. What a great invention! You can lern the most amazing things! Today when I came home I was looking at the two pieces of flowery material, fabric, what do you call it? (My English is torn between British and American, and on top of that even old-fashioned. I learned it in the sixties). The things that I bought from the odds-and-ends-table, which I can seldom resist. Today in the sunshine I felt like sewing me some nice new summer skirts, that`s

I have friends who write me real letters, on paper, sent with envelopes and stamps. I love them! The letters and the friends. So of course I am writing back, and I always take my time, talking directly to my friend as if we were chatting over a cup of tea. They tell me that they always smile when they open their mailbox and find one! Some tell me they keep my letters, and read them again, isn`t that sweet? One old lady had her daughter read my stories (about herself, things she had told me about her youth which I had remininiscented) on her deathbed. When I spent my high-school year in PA at age 16 (I, the German girl from Hamburg, was invited by a lovely old American! Incredibly wonderful!), I wrote many letters to my best friend Ulla who also stored them and later gave them to me, as a memory. Last week I took my time and copied them onto my email account, just for the fun of remembering and maybe sharing them with my future great-grandchildren. Haha, I was so wise at 16! If I couldn

Have you ever wondered how often you have talked to a man about "Women`s Affairs" (haha, not affairs, just themes)? You know, those things that affect ONLY women, and that means ALL women. Like menstruation, pregnancy, menopause, how hard it is to find a well-fitting bra, how easily a small woman can choke from a seat belt because they were only tested on average-size males? Women have to cope with situations that many men have no idea of. When have you told your colleague that befor you can join him in the conference you must first change your tampon or you would bleed through? Men, as we know, tend to shy away when it comes to "uncleanness" in women. They hope we just don`t mention it! But you see, that is the problem. Men just don`t HAVE such "disturbances" that are, however, a part of every woman`s life, from an early age of about 11 on to 50. No woman can choose to say, Thanks, not for me. But with whom have you discussed this, except your husband or

Good morning, my friends. I have put up some more benches on my roof terrace for you, baked a strawberry cake and am waiting for your magic carpets to land. Feel at home at my place. The sun is shining, we have a great colourful springtime, and I already enjoyed a visit to the local farmer`s market this forenoon. So far I have not figured out how to post pictures, but you can IMAGINE how brimming and bustling it was. After having lived here for such a short time, I still feel rather invisible, but I don`t mind that at all, as I like to just stroll around and see what is going on around me. This town is full of different people - French, Italian (both borders are not far away), Arabs and Africans, and they come in all different shades. I passed a young father today, with three beautiful cute little boys who held each other by the hands. The one in the middle was singing loudly. They were just such a sight! And I thought, May you always have good experiences with grown-ups. May you be se

Does anybody understand what death is? How can a living being suddenly stop breathing and not live anymore, never returning? With all its experiences, knowledge, love, everything. Gone! Ever since my husband died, I have been wondering. Where is he, when in my dreams we still chat and do things together. Which one is the real life? And then, what is life anyway? Aah, I know, such impossible questions. But really, haven`t you also wondered? My credo is simple. I think we are here to be happy. Don`t get me wrong. Happiness cannot have anything to do with circumstances, at least with the ones we cannot choose. If I suddenly find myself in a war zone, or a fire destroys my home, or any other catastrophe haunts me, then all I can do is try to survive, and shelter those who may need my help. I think this belongs together, caring not only for my own good, but for the ones around me. At least I have found that this makes my life happy. Looking around me and seeing "the others". My n

 Hi my friends - old and new! I am Angela. Years ago you knew me under "Letters from Usedom", but I wrote my last post in 2011.  My husband and I were then living on the island Usedom, in North-East Germany, in a house by the sea, not far from the Polish border. It was a beautiful place, and I told you about my encounters and my thoughts, but what I liked best were your comments, and your own blogs. You see, I have my head full of ideas too, but I always love to listen to yours! So when you also write a blog, or would like to chat with me via email, just get in contact. Have you heard of those libraries in Denmark where you can "rent a listener"? You just sit on a chair in the library, signalling that you would like to tell your story to somebody, and then a "listener" sits down opposite of you. Simple but great, hey? That is what I like to be, someone who contemplates with you about the craziness of the world. Because, isn`t it just that? We as human folk