Impressive, those Swedes

The other day on the train, I witnessed a group of six first-graders (all tiny little blonde girls in adorable outfits -- like sorority sisters, but cute and not mean and only two feet tall) go totally mental when the train passed an Ikea:

"IKEA, IKEA, THERE'S IKEA!!!"

*really high voices and squeeky noises*

It was weird. And funny. And Ikea's marketing folks should probably win award after award for successfully establishing brand awareness FOR A FURNITURE STORE in six-year-olds.

Gorgeous then, gorgeous now

Thinking back to my childhood days almost always brings up memories about our backyard. I spent so much time out there, playing by myself or with friends from the neighborhood, in the sandbox or on the swingset my father had built for me (we'd excavate plastic smurf figurines years later at the spot where the sandbox used to be), scavenging through the vegetable garden for sweet baby carrots, snap peas and strawberries (under the strict but tolerating eyes of my Grandfather), or splashing in the little pool my parents put out for me in summer (frequently terrified by the dead insects that would inevitably float around in there after a couple of days). At some point I had a bunny rabbit (Piefke), later a cat (Jana), and for many years there were sheep grazing on a pasture just behind the fence at the end of the garden (now the location of two three-story apartment buildings). Clockwise from top left: with a birthday party, feeding the sheep, August 1981; on the swing, Spring 1981; my Grandparents, ca. late 1980s; still owning a sandbox, Summer 1987; with my tricycle and Herr Nilsson, Spring 1981; in desperate need for a bath, Spring 1981; with my friend Jessica, Summer 1985.

Back in the day, the backyard was mostly a veggie and fruit garden, with a lawn area to sit and relax. The older my grandparents got, the smaller the garden area became, with the lawn expanding and taking over areas where rows of asparagus and onions used to be. When I was small, my grandparents would spend hours sowing and harvesting and digging and raking, with me "helping" them, cleaning carrots, pitting cherries, or cutting apples to be cooked into applesauce. There were rows of glasses with preserved fruits in our basement, and a freezer full with frozen veggies. The older I got, the less gardenwork my grandparents did, with more time being spent sitting in the comfy garden chairs enjoying the sun or taking a nap in the shade. Especially my Granddad always hated wintertime, when he couldn't spend much time outside.

Over the recent years, my parents have transformed the backyard into a beautiful ornamental garden. My Mom has an amazing talent for selecting the right plants for the right places and arranging and layering shrubs and perennials, annual plants and bulbs, and caring for them so that they perform a true firework of colors, blossom shapes and sizes all throughout the season.

Since my Grandmother is bedridden at the moment and can't enjoy the garden like she usually would, I took a bunch of pictures that I showed to her in the hospital. A nurse even encouraged us to tape a couple printouts to a wall near her bed.

In Germany, in May

I came home to Germany in a family matter a couple of days ago, rather spontaneously. For four years now I've only ever visited around Christmas time (with the exception of our wedding in late October 2006, when it was almost as cold as in December, for the most part), and had almost forgotten about how beautiful it is here this time of year. The lovely scenery made an adventurous drive over abandoned dirt roads and through tiny Northern German villages -- caused by slight navigation challenges faced by the driver and his front-seat passenger (hello, dear parents!) -- a real treat.

Not sure why they call it a "smart" phone...

...if it allows you to do things like this:


(Ed and I got ourselves a new pair of BlackBerry phones. It lets me take pictures and upload them to my Flickr photostream.)