This weird Lego thing

Hamish doesn't really like drawing. Unlike Orla who is forever making birthday cards, and Easter cards, and especially Valentine cards, it's just not his thing. Instead he likes to make things from Lego. So for my birthday tomorrow, I might get something special made for me instead of a handmade card. I don't mind this: I don't get the chance to keep these creations, but I love the thought that goes into them just as much. In the past couple of weeks his Lego or Duplo building has taken on a life of it's own. It's not so much that the creations themselves are particularly amazing, but it's his knowledge or the description when you ask "What's that?" that has started freaking me out a little. So above, we have a boat made from Duplo, with a diving platform on the front. That's fine. I'm happy with the simplicity of that. That's what a 3 and a half year old does.

Next up (above) we have a crane. I like his cranes. They always have a counter-balance which strikes me as a good realistic touch. Again, I guess that's a pretty normal construction for someone his age.

Here (above) we have a submarine. With periscope. He had been playing in the same room as his dad and I assumed when he brought me a submarine that Stevie had finally told him the awful truth that he doesn't make meatballs for a living, but indeed is an engineer, and I assumed that he had been telling him that he used to work in the submarine section of Rolls-Royce. But he hadn't, and I have no idea where Hamish has seen a submarine before. Bear in mind that we have a very limited selection of tv programmes here, and I know we don't have a book with a submarine in it. So I thought, oh that's kind of good.

Then he made this, above. It looks like a crappy car, and normally he makes better cars than this, but then he started telling me about that bit on the right at the top. And this is where it started getting freaky. Because apart from the blocks holding it still under the middle, the reason they are needed apparently, is because what it has on the back as he described it to me and Stevie is a jet engine. Not that he knows that, or called it that, but he described it's functionality, and told us about how the cold air enters into the bit that rotates at the front and then goes through the middle portion which is attached to the car and makes it drive and then the hot air goes out through the bit that rotates at the back....in fact he probably described it better than I did. Don't quote me. 

The next day, he built this. Looks like a tower, or two towers really. But he told me that what it does is that it takes dirty water in at the bottom of the wider tower. Then the dirty water is forced upwards through various levels where the dirt gets trapped each time. The big dirt gets trapped lower down, and then as you get up near the top it's taking out the small dirt. The water then travels over the top (well apparently it shoots out of the top in an arc like the fountain we saw the other day in the shopping centre, you know where it looks like the water is 'jumping'?) and then it travels as clean water down the narrow tower and at the bottom goes underground and is taken by pipes into peoples houses. I'm no civil engineer, but isn't he describing a water purification system???? I must ask my dad if that's how water purification systems really work, but anyway, HOW CAN HE KNOW THAT??

Is that not weird? So in case he ends up being some kind of genius engineer, I have started taking really rubbish photos of his early career. But I needed to be able to describe what he was telling me, so sadly, you may be getting a few Lego/Duplo updates.

Update: Well I went and did a bit of Googling, and apparently the closest thing to what Hamish has built is a micro-filtration system. Singapore (according to Wikipedia) is the only country currently to filter it's waste water to the point of being able to pump it back into people's homes it's called NEWater - though I always thought that they said that the tap water you drink in London has been through about 7 people before you??? No? Googled again, Thames Water tell you that only a tiny amount of recycled water will go through your system, which is because of the 150 litres each person uses per day, they only drink on average 2 litres of that. But it is treated and purified seeing as around 80% of London's water comes from the Thames and the River Lee. Yum! Right, as thrilling as this is, I'm done.

Crackpots & cracking times

I should have said my name was 'Finja'. P.S Not only are our real names plastered all over the internet, you'll also find them on the wall at the Legoland Discovery Centre, Berlin.

Ah, the things I could tell you if only I had never set up this blog using my real name, and had never used photos of my family. Sometimes it's a curse! For example I would have been able to tell you an awesomely funny story of a truly horrific playdate I went on with the kids this week. You know it's not going well when you get asked round for coffee and you're the one who has to go for the milk, and you have to run faster than Paula Radcliffe there and back because Orla's parting words are "They're trying to take Hamish's trousers off!", and there's just something about the family that makes you just a little uncomfortable with that.

Alas, we're going to have to wait until either we've left Berlin, or they've left Berlin (and let's hope it's them, and soon) before I can tell you about it. Unless you email me, and I'll spill the beans ;)

As you may have noticed from the plethora of bunny-related blog posts, it's Easter. Orla has been on holiday now for a week and without even trying we've managed to pack each day with events that have cost either very little or nothing. We had a day of playing on 'one' day as Orla wanted to stay home and get stuck into all her new toys. Then on 'another' day we had a lovely day at Berlin Zoo with some good friends and spent a lot of time not looking so much at animals, but talking endlessly, avoiding fast-moving zoo traffic, and playing in the quite brilliant park.

Now this was a nice playdate. Fun is a shared love of railings.

On 'another one of the' days we spent a couple of hours in the depths of hell, as mentioned at the beginning of this post, and then went on a fake appointment on the other side of the city so we didn't have to spend any longer with them. And we also went to Legoland 'another' day because the kids have been dying to make more use of our year passes and I HATE that place on the weekends. For some reason I had convinced myself that the Germans would take their Easter holidays on a different week, perhaps that was the only way my brain would allow me to actually make the suggestion of Legoland to the kids. It's not that it's not good: in fact I'd say that the Legoland Discovery Centre at Potsdamer Platz is one of the best places to take kids in Berlin. As long as you like being underground and packed in like a sardine and enjoy noise levels from squealing kids that could drown out a pneumatic drill.

Don't get excited Orla, this poster is the best bit.

We also went along to the 'Helden' (Superheroes) exhibition at the Film & TV Museum in the Sony Center at Potsdamer Platz. I had seen the poster in one of the U-Bahn stations and Hamish had been very keen to see Spiderman. It was reasonable enough to get in to: Euro 4 for me and the kids were free, but it was a bit of a disappointment. The 3 Spidermen they had on display looked remarkably similar to the very small ones Hamish plays with, and well... the Star Wars display was just the Lego figures of the characters. If anyone wants to see a Disney Winnie the Pooh, Toy Story, & Cars exhibition, I will be showing one made out Duplo for the next 6 months in Hamish's bedroom.

The Sony Center roof viewed from the -2 floor. It's a geometric dream.

I will say however, that I am glad we went into it. I haven't bothered visiting the Film & TV museum because I kind of assumed that it would primarily focus on German films and tv that I wouldn't be familiar with. But it's worth going in even to the foyer and using the glass lifts to get a different view of the Sony Center roof. And you know how I like to take a photo or 80!

I'll keep you warm in December.

Cuddle in Hamish, it's going to be a cold winter

There are a lot of things to get used to in Germany for the avid consumer. God knows it's been tough for some of us to get our heads round the shops being closed on a Sunday - taking it one day at a time my friends. One day at a time.

Shopping is more my specialist subject than Stevie's, so why I listened to him saying that we should wait a while before buying the kids snow suits I simply cannot fathom. Oh, yeah, that was it: it was September.

So I left it till yesterday, last night to be precise to go and get them. I was a little anxious before we set off as a guy in my German class had said that he'd heard that once they sell out of things here, they don't instantly replenish the stock like they do in other shopping-friendly nations.

First stop was Karstadt Sports. We got Orla's snowflake outfit there as modelled in the photo above. But nothing in Hamish's size. Then we went to C&A (I'm sure one day it'll make a comeback in the UK, and you'll all go 'Yessica'-mad, and shed a little tear for the fact that you're now in the Yessica category. Best face it now. You are no longer welcome in 'Clockhouse'.). There was nothing there either in small gentlemans size.

After that we went to H&M - nothing, and then we started working our way along the length of the Ku'Damm. The thing about the Ku'Damm is you start off with H&M and Zara and then you get into your slightly more expensive Esprit and it's like, and then you end up like us in Timberland and The North Face. Neither of these had anything for children under 5, but if they had we would have bought whatever they had. We were in the dangerous mindset where desperation had set in, and we had realised that it did in fact seem to be true that stock replenishment is not really very popular. Even normally super-practical Stevie would have handed over a stack of money if there had just been something suitable to buy. I know this because I am now the proud owner of the most expensive gloves I have ever owned in my life.

While we were in The North Face I started to realise that our next stop was going to have to be Chanel or Louis Vuitton. The further you go along the Ku'Damm the more designer-y it gets. It was lucky that we ran out of time and the shops were shutting. I don't know if I could take Hamish to Kita if he was decked out like Posh Spice on a skiing holiday.

I ordered Hamish a more reasonably priced ski suit online when we got home. Sometimes I just don't know what I would do without the internet. E-commerce is a beautiful thing.

Suddenly I'm not feeling quite so 'chatty'

"We'd just like a word with you..."
A word? A word? I wonder if that means I only need to get down to my underwear???

Remember this? My last visit to the doctor, where I had been told I could go for a prescription, and then once I got there was told I couldn't and had to find another doctor and blah, blah, blah... rain... late for German,...etc, etc, and eventually came away with an appointment on (not the) 19th for a "chat with the doctor"?

So it was today. Not the 19th, and so I didn't miss anymore German I made the appointment for the afternoon, balancing up the missing of more German with the having to take the kids with me. I figured that with the kids with me, the appointment would be kept quite short as they make it plain that long appointments do not fit in with their lifestyle. And anyway, the appointment was for 4:45 so it would be post-nap (for Hamish) and hopefully they would not be tired and utterly horrible.

But then Stevie offered to come home early so I could go on my own. So I did, and just as well, as I didn't get home until 7pm so the kids would have lost the plot.

So anyway, the appointment was with the Frauenarzt - that's a gynaecologist/obstetrician and you have to go to one of them if you want contraception or a smear test, or well, a baby. So, I had been wondering what we might possibly have to talk about. Given that I thought I was going to have to take the kids with me I reckoned we could bypass the "Do you want any more kids?" question pretty swiftly, and probably without me having to speak too much German. But what else was there to 'chat' about. I assumed it was going to be something similar to what you get in the UK when you join a new doctors practice and you have to have that appointment where it's a bit like a meet & greet and basically they take a medical history, ask you if you need to see them about anything, and then thank you for coming.

Well, it was like that if you've ever been to one of those 'meet the doctor' appointments and had your chat with absolutely no clothes on. Now that was quite a surprise! The chat started pretty much as soon as I walked into her office and she said "Hello, pleased to meet you, would you like to go behind that screen and take off your clothes?". I thought I'd prepared myself by phoning my GP's office in England earlier today and asking when I'd last had a smear test. I even looked it up in my German dictionary in case I needed to mention that I didn't need one yet in German. That's how prepared I was. But I wasn't prepared to have to say this while actually getting a smear test. Apparently the Germans like to have them once a year even if you have never had any problems.

Then we continued our chat over on the examination bed where I was surprised to get both a breast examination and then an ultrasound to check my uterus, fallopian tubes, and to see if there were any tumours lurking. To add to my delight, unlike in the UK where if you have an ultrasound while pregnant, and you have the awkwardness of craning your neck round while trying to see the screen when really they don't want you to yet, here you get your own screen which hangs at the perfect angle from the ceiling for you to see the fibroids hanging off your uterus should you have any to see. Wouldn't that be nice?

I was then allowed to get my clothes back on, while she introduced the idea of getting Stevie a vasectomy for Christmas. I said it sounded like the perfect stocking filler, but I wasn't sure if Stevie would be too keen. He's never really fancied any of those Boots Gift Experiences, and this would probably have even less appeal for him than a hot air balloon ride.

Then she offered me an IUD for 400 Euros. In a toss-up between that and the lens for my camera that I've got sitting in my Amazon shopping basket, I think I'd prefer the lens to win. So that was that. A surprising evening that'll make me somewhat wary about chatting with Germans in the future.

2 auld witches knocked at my door.

A pretty terrible photo of us but one of only a few where we are all together.

My favourite Brandenburg Gate photo.

Near Checkpoint Charlie

Having fun at the wall near Potsdamer Platz just after we went down the big winter snow slide in rubber rings.

So I never got started 'Herr Carotten'. I was the victim of an elaborate ruse. Stevie came home from work on Friday and started tidying and cleaning the flat just as I was getting a pounding headache that rendered me unable to help much. A coincidence? Normally, I'd say no, but I was so distracted by it I hardly even gave a second thought as to why Stevie might suddenly take it apon himself to clean the shower room.

After dinner he said he was going out to meet a friend who not a week previous had he been saying he thought was an idiot and someone he might try and drift away from. Not even this aroused my suspiscion, as as you may have already garnered, in Stevie-world very little makes sense.

So off he went and I got changed into my pyjamas intending to have an early night to nurse my headache, but instead ended up watching a documentary about Hitler's relatives. Stevie came back a good while later and then a minute later the door buzzer went. Stevie shouted "Are you not going to get that?" and I said "No". For some reason unless there's a possibility that's it's a postman at the door, I have found I have no interest in opening it. Especially not in my pyjamas. With no make-up on. At some time after 10pm.

And then the thought crossed my mind that it was Stevie's friend and that he'd followed him home. This was a reasonable thing to think at the time as Stevie came home calling the guy all sorts of names and it sounded like they might have had an argument. So I wandered up to the door to have a look through the spy hole, not thinking at the time that this person would have had to have gotten through 2 locked doors to get to our door, and again Stevie asked me to open it. So I did, and there were two people in rubber witches masks in my doorway. In the second before they took off the masks I had time to give an inward groan at the prospect of early Halloweener's with whom I would struggle to communicate the message 'I have no sweeties! Beat it!' without sounding aggressive. But then the masks came off, and I had one of those split-second stream of consciousness thoughts which went along the lines of 'I recognise them, but I can't think where in Berlin I know them from. Crap, I'm going to have to say hello in a minute and yet I can't think who the hell they are. Bookgroup? No. German school? No. Kita? No. Oh my god, it's my best friends from Derby!'. It was very odd getting my head round them being so out of context as I hadn't thought they would be coming over until late next year, if at all.

So after getting over the surprise and shock it was lovely. We had a great weekend doing all the touristy things, and shopping, and eating, and taking photos, and generally having just a great laugh. I would love if they could surprise me again this weekend. The time just flew by too quickly.

Herr Carotten - available in no good bookstores.

Christmas is coming and Santa has her work cut out for her. Orla has been talking about Christmas for months, probably because 'Dora's Christmas' is a major favourite in this house. So we have discussed what happens on Christmas Eve in great detail as a result. One thing I am grateful for is that in 'Dora's Christmas' there is "a present for Santa" - yippee! cause Santa wants a netbook!

Anyway, the list writing started early and has been edited to death since June. But through it all, one thing has never changed. Orla's number 1 request this year is 'a book about carrots'. Hamish's request for a "real goat" seems easy by comparison. I'm going to start work on 'Herr Carotten meets Julienne' tonight. I think the title needs some work but it's a start. I have a good idea of how he looks and Julienne is of course stick-thin. I just can't decide whether or not to add a baddie who ends up getting roasted near the end.

How to live in the absence of digestives

Stevie had to go back to Derby for a few days for work. I was quite excited by this and prepared a list of things for him to buy while he was there. Number 1 of course was travel adapters. We have been unplugging the tv so that we can use the hoover, and stopping the charging of the laptop in order to boil the kettle. Our need for travel adapters is vast given that we brought everything with us. I have secret fears about travel adapters. I think it stems from the days of - what were they called?- 3 point plugs?? I'm sure my mum instilled in me that these were the most dangerous things on the planet. Travel adapters have a similar cachet about them, and if I didn't have better things to lie awake at night worrying about, then I certainly could spend many a happy hour pondering whether there may be a chance that we'll all burn in our beds some dark night in November when we're least expecting it.

I also hate the way that you can hardly ever get them to go into the wall properly and they're always just hanging out a little. Paranoid Fiona is sure that one day the hoover that has sucked up more food in its lifetime than Orla has will be responsible for some kind of electrocution accident involving either of my children, or more likely me, showing them the perils of sockets and electricity.

I won't go into the other 'delights' that were on the list, except to say that it featured an extensive list of childrens DVD's especially selected from the Asda website by Orla and myself. I put my foot down when it came to Barney though. Even if it's episodes I've not seen before I just can't take any more of those obnoxious children with their upheld hands gesturing every emotion.

Stevie got back last night and unveiled his booty. I think we all squealed with excitement. I bombarded Stevie with questions: "So what was it like?", "Did the supermarkets seem massive?", "What did you think of all the choice on offer?", "Did it seem like too much?" "Did everything seem dead cheap?", oh and, "Did you feel like you'd missed it?". I think I successfully added to the impression that Stevie is getting that I am losing my mind. "Fiona," he said "It's only been 6 weeks since you were in Tesco. What do you think has changed since you left?".

I don't think we are too bad when it comes to adapting to German products. Admittedly, the one thing that we found we really miss is Robinsons Apple & Blackcurrant and I make regular trips to 'Broken English' to stock up. Aside from that though, there's not really much I miss. (Yeah, ok, so I moan about the lack of choice and everything, but really, I'm not hankering after anything else in 'Broken English'.

I do seem to be building up a little database in my head of which shops and supermarkets sell which British (and American) items, just in case. I've also got a new hobby, which is reading the discussion boards on Toytown Berlin where poor homesick souls ask where they can find things like brown sauce or god forbid, Coors Light. I find the food-related topics less vicious than say, the work or apartment related topics, but in general, the expat community comes across as a terrible angry mob, ready to shout at you for your desirous thoughts about digestives. One day, dear readers, this could be me!

Not that great that you need to steal it

Have you looked at the photos? After reading a few blog posts which mentioned Google Stats and the strange search terms that have led people to various blogs I thought I'd look into it.And then I googled my own blog and found this scoundrel!

A strange post to decide to copy I think. I am intrigued by the translation into another language and obviously back into English. But I am really shocked that they have even posted the picture of Hamish. It's just all a bit odd. What is the point in this? What's the purpose?

I left a message and a complaint.

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