Showing posts with label Culture. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Culture. Show all posts

Wednesday, January 12, 2011

Video clips you'd be sorry to miss #3: A Good Day



Are you having a bad day?  Feeling sorry for yourself and what is happening in your life?

Yeswe all have those days.

The good news is that it actually is a good day.  It only depends on our perspective.

Take some time to enjoy this video...

and be grateful!

If you are still feeling blue and don't know how to change things around, take a look at this  New Years post for some inspiration.

Have a really Good Day!




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Tuesday, January 11, 2011

Back from Tibet

Have you been looking for that special something to surprise a loved one?  Or a nifty accessory to impress the beautiful yoga nymph from class, or the friendly barista guy behind the health food store juice bar, whom you always wanted to ask out but never dared to?  Maybe you are in need of a gift to show your partner, that rarely spending any time with him or her anymore because you are in nursing school now or spent the past month searching for yourself in Tibet, doesn’t mean anything?  Don’t look any further, my friend.  You have come to the right place:


The Muses’ Catalog of Must-Have Gift Ideas





This handy little tool gets rid of the mess your “all organic-all naturally freshly grinded-all naturally separating peanut butter” leaves you with!  Just twist on the lid and crank the embedded chrome-plated mixing rod for an evenly mixed spread—just like frothed up in the factory.  Easy like this!  Should the included lid not fit onto your naturally separating peanut butter jar, you have two easy options: a) Take a bamboo spoon and scoop the gooey unstirrable mess into a jar that fits the new lid.  b) Close your jar with the lid it came, take a sharp knife, or a hammer and a nail, and create an opening large enough to insert the chrome-plated mixing rod—and done!  Easy like this! 
Natural peanut butter lovers all over the world will love this incredibly sleek and clever gift.  It’s yours for only $10!




The technology interested target of your affection will be thrilled to receive this “Deluxe Personal Air Supply!”  Stifling patient rooms?  Muggy Bikram yoga spaces?  Just returned from the clean airs of Tibet?  Moving to Taiwan?  This is the gift to give!  It comes with a breakaway neck strap, so in case anyone else should grab this device in a desperate attempt to breathe some clean air, it won’t hurt to share.  And who wouldn’t want to own a gadget that produces 120 trillion—yes, my friend, that’s 120,000,000,000,000—ions per second?!  This equals to an incredible 7,200,000,000,000,000 ions per minute!!  Unbelievable!!
It’s yours for only $99!  Get it now—and enjoy watching them thrive with clean air!





Now this one is a gem!  You may remember my Recycled Recreation post in which I commented on landfills.  We should all cut back on producing waste, right?!  Here’s a cute way to help out with this—the Countertop Bag Dryer.  At first sight it may look like a bunch of incense sticks, which even more underlines a thoughtful lifestyle, but this tool can do so much more!  You just rinse out your used plastic bags and hang them upside down over one of the skewers made from sustainably harvested birch and ash woods.  Even the most difficult to dry plastic bag is no match for the air circulation provided by this unique tool.  And when you don’t have any plastic bags to dry?  It folds neatly for storage!
This is a must have for any thoughtful countertop owner and always a welcomed gift.  Considering the money you save by reusing your plastic bags—and the infinite positive karma this will bring you—the $20 for this cute product is very well spent.




You are looking for a gift for an environmentally conscious dog owner?  Then this is for you!  Who would think that this flat, white plastic cap on the lawn is not part of a solar-powered, water saving sprinkler system, but instead contains a pile of decomposing dog crap?!  This well-disguised cesspit is merely identifiable by the adorable “Doggie Dooley” print on the lid (sorry Heather!).  To start out, you simply dig a round hole 48" deep by 15" in diameter, slip the Doggie Dooley in, fill it with 6 gallons of water and 2 tablespoons of the Waste Terminator enzyme digestion powder.  Now you are ready to fill in whatever dog shit you can find around the house and on your lawn!  Easy like this!  Never worry about Pooch’s organic wastes anymore.  This really works! [Just disregard the customer reviews on the website…]
Buy the Doggie Dooley together with the necessary Waste Terminator powder for only $98.  And always remember—you will never have to use another plastic bag for Pooch again.  Just drop it in!


Saving the best for last, let me introduce you to this amazing Digital Zen Alarm Clock.  Given as a thoughtful gift, this alarm clock, which is set in a hardwood casing, awakens your loved one to the gentle sound of a Tibetan chime.  You don’t know what a Tibetan chime sounds like?  Click below to find out.
 
This wonderful clock can also be used as a pre-programmed timer to softly remind you of the outside world towards the end of a meditation or yoga session.  
I just received breaking news, which may be especially interesting to students of SFSU’s School of Nursing.  Dr O, it says, has contributed an alternative alarm sound to the Digital Zen Alarm Clock.  Please, sample this deeply nurturing tone below while reciting all pharmacology and pathophysiology facts you can remember!
 

I’m torn between the previous two exhilarating sound samples, so I would like to offer my own Zen alarm tone below.  After all, we are talking about an alarm clock here, right?  Right?  So, please sit back, and give this one a try…
   
Whichever alarm tone you prefer for your gift of good taste and tranquility, this incredible clock, made in China—land of ancient healers—won’t cost you more than a petty $136!  Go get it now, and feel the love!



                     
    



Thank you Gaiam.com, for making this post possible!  May it lead many enlightened customers to your website.
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Sunday, January 9, 2011

Video clips you'd be sorry to miss #2: Reflections--Body Image Program


(Sandro Botticelli - The Birth of Venus)  


In my last blog post I wrote about how breastfeeding increases the likelihood of a healthy weight.  However, "healthy weight" is as much in our head as it is in our body.  The influence of the popular but distorted body image that surrounds us in Western cultures, often leads to perceive a perfectly healthy body as flawed and unsightly.

These two videos from Tri Delta's "Reflections--Body Image Program" were used to promote their "Fat Talk Free Week" in 2008 and 2009.

I always get goosebumps watching them...

Stunning visuals with a very strong message. 

Read more about Tri Delta's efforts here.

You may also want to read here, an inspiring blog about healthy body images that I just discovered .




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Saturday, January 8, 2011

Of Breasts and Milk


This week I intercepted my relaxing semester break and spent two days at work.  Both days were busy and kept me on my toes from the time I set my feet in the unit until I left.  Yet, I would not have wanted it any other way. 
My profession, practiced during these days—I am an IBCLC, an International Board Certified Lactation Consultant, and have been working per diem in the Family Birth Center of a busy local hospital for more than 8 years.    
My work—I am doing lactation rounds, in which I visit with every breastfeeding mom and family (95% of our clients), listen, listen some more, and even a little bit more, answer questions, educate on what to expect—and what not—in these very first days after birth, assist and—if needed—teach the new mom (and family) how to breastfeed the newborn, and help to find and implement solutions should problems arise.
Breastfeeding is the most natural thing in the world, right?  So why a specific profession?  Why a license that requires more than 1000 practice and theory hours, topped by a challenging, day-long exam? 

Well, it turns out, that breastfeeding is more of a learned art than intrinsic knowledge, coded for in our DNA.  In cultures where breastfeeding is, and has been an inherent part of life and child rearing, an IBCLC is rarely needed.  Us here…hmmm…we are of a different kind—the kind that all too often is rather intimidated by this naturally learned process.
Yesterday, the comment of an 18-hours-old father, as I was handing his wife a Nursing Journal, sums it up better than I ever could.  Overjoyed he reached for the booklet and said: “Oooh!  Is this a manual?!”  I felt like giving him a big old hug!  No, my dear friend, they don’t come with a manual!
The time following the birth of a child is unique and very special for every new family.  Emotions underlie their own erratic rules, and tears of joy, worries and frustration may rapidly alternate with sheer bliss and heartfelt laughter.  It is my utmost pleasure to stand back, and humbly watch it all unfold.  Having been there myself four times, I am pleased to watch different parenting styles evolve.  Sometimes well-meant intentions shatter early on when the new parents notice that their 8-pounds bundle of joy is more a bundle of pure energy and temperament.  Parenting is a learned art as well!
Working with families during such a sensitive and vulnerable time, on such a physically close and intimate level, leads inevitably to quite interesting situations.  Empathy and professionalism, I find, are key in getting out of any weird situation I may find myself in at work.  Sometimes that’s easier said than done…
Such as the day I was helping a new mom years ago.  Her baby was a few days old already, her mature milk was coming in and for various reasons this process had left her terribly—and I mean TERRIBLY—engorged.  If you have never seen engorged breasts—let alone terribly engorged ones, my friend—start by imagining two good-sized cantaloupes sitting snug, right where days before a B or C cup bra was perfectly sufficient.  While it may be visually impressive, they HURT!  BADLY!  Engorgement rarely gets this bad, but gone that far it is no fun at all.  I spent a very long time with this mom—hot compresses, massage, attempts to latch the baby, attempts to pump,…  Any effort to empty her painfully, ready-to-burst breasts failed because she was hurting so badly.  Massage was all that was left, and while she was pressing her hands against her face in an effort to find some abatement, I was able to gently hand express milk which soon gave her some relief.  Her previously tensed up facial expressions lightened up, and to my surprise she suddenly started to giggle.  She looked at me and said with a big grin: “Wow!  This is almost like in a good porn video.” 

Eeeeeeeeeeeewwww!!!  Wrong connection!  Absolutely wrong!  I was completely perplexed for a moment and must have stared at her my most appalled stare.  I was blown away and wondered how on earth this could have been her first thought after finally being relieved of the pain.  Lucky me, the friendly voice in my head quickly reminded me—“you better use your finest skills—empathy and professionalism!”  Yes!, I thought, ready to set some boundaries.  I smiled back at the mom and said something to the extent of: “One could think that, but we both know that this is not the case.”  Then I went on and taught her how to hand express herself…   Ha!
So, if breastfeeding can leave you terribly engorged and making terrible comments, which may leave your IBCLC terribly shocked—why bother with it at all?  The quick answer is—because it is a human infant’s natural source of food.  If human moms would give birth to calves or soy beans, formula would probably be the first choice.  While there doubtlessly are medical indications for babies to be fed formula, its unquestioned use in the early days and weeks can be especially detrimental to the breastfeeding relationship. 
              


On the other hand, breastfeeding has unique far-reaching benefits for baby, mom, the family and the community.  Here are just a few, as stated by the AAP (American Academy of Pediatrics).  A decreased incidence in infectious diseases, such as diarrhea, respiratory tract infection, urinary tract infections, and otitis media alone are worth every ounce of breastmilk given.  If you have ever lost nights of sleep while taking care of a little one with said conditions, you’ll understand…  Breastfeeding also leads to a decreased incident of Diabetes Mellitus type 1 & 2, certain childhood cancers, asthma, overweight and obesity.  As Signifying Nothing states in his latest blog post, 38.5% of girls born in 2000 will develop diabetes.  32.8% of boys born in 2000 will meet the same fate.  Similarly alarming rates are reported for cancer, asthma and obesity—a decrease of these numbers is worth every sip fresh from the tap!

There are plenty of rewards for breastfeeding moms as well.  How about earlier return to pre-pregnancy weight?  Breastmilk production burns about 500kcal extra per day, just like this!  Directly after birth, nursing decreases blood loss, because the hormones involved in breastfeeding cause the uterus to contract and reach pre-pregnancy size faster.  In the long run there is a decreased risk for breast and ovarian cancer and possibly osteoporosis.  I would take these benefits at any time.  Who wouldn’t?
My work as an IBCLC enables me to support young families in the early decision making process and its subsequent successful implementation.  This can influence their baby’s and their own health for decades to come.  It is my pleasure and passion to be their advocate and be part of improving individual and public health—one family at a time.



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Tuesday, January 4, 2011

Recycled Recreation



This morning I made it to Bayfront Park in Menlo Park.  I used to go running there regularly in my life prior to nursing school.  It seems like an eternity ago.
Bayfront Park’s 160 acres extend over the area of a solid waste landfill that was closed in 1984.  It is located on a small peninsula, surrounded by salt ponds and salt sloughs of the bay on three sides.  The forth side adjoins to an industrial area of the city and the highway on-ramp. 


As I was taking an unhurried walk today, stopping every now and then to take a photo, I tried to imagine this place full of serenity and life covered in trash.  This required quite a mental stretch.  Although there are plenty of signs of the surrounding industry—smoking chimney stacks in the far, huge storage and office buildings closer by—the landfill is visible only to the discerning eye.    


I always wondered why there was a small sewage treatment plant at the far end of the park.  Its extremely noisy machinery had annoyed me many times as I was passing by.  So did the foul stench of what smelled like rotten organic material mixed with manure that often filled the air.  Both of these nuisances used to have the fantastic side effect of making me run much faster at about halfway through the perimeter trail, just to get away into an olfactory neutral zone. 


It was just today that it finally clicked!  I read a very well written article about how a landfill works.  Of course, the responsibility for a waste dump doesn’t stop when it is capped with soil, and brush and trees are planted.  The smelly sewage at the plant in the far back of the park is a penetrating reminder of the very existence of this man-made pile of junk.  What is collecting in the pond near the noisy pump station is leachate from the landfill that is drained through pipes, then tested and detoxified if needed.  The smell that surrounds the area stems from methane gas which, mixed with CO2, is emitted from the activity of anaerob bacteria, working hard at slowly decomposing what once was dragged to our curbs. 
The city of Menlo Park budgets more than $225,000 per year just to maintain the landfill and keep the surrounding ecosystems intact.  This does not include any costs for the maintenance of the recreational part of the park.  Millions of dollars to keep an enormous pile of garbage under control?  That is quite perplexing.  I guess we can call ourselves lucky, that at least this junk was not dumped into the ocean to add on to the ever-growing pacific gyre, but instead is taken care of in our very own backyard.


Yet, one can’t deny that this landfill contributes considerable recreational value to the area.  Runners, walkers, bikers, dog owners, bird watchers, artists, model plane pilots, kite flyers, backyard gardeners who shovel buckets full of free compost soil, people looking for solitude, as well as noisily chit-chatting groups that enjoy each others’ company—there seems to be a place for everyone.  I have always found mine whenever I came.

Thinking back, I actually grew up close to a similar construct—der Gruene Heiner.  About a ten minute drive from my childhood home in Germany, this popular 230 feet high green destination towers over the otherwise mostly flat landscape.  It was built back in the 1950’s—from WW2 debris.  Today people enjoy its recreational value.  In 1999 a windmill-powered plant was added to its summit and has been providing green energy ever since.



While I would prefer to walk on natural grounds that were aggregated by California’s overactive tectonic, I can hardly turn my back on an issue as big as Western societies' overactive consumerism with all of its unattractive side-effects, such as giant landfills.  Yet, one has to give credit to humankind’s creativity and problem solving skills.  Turning a pile of crap into an area of recreational value is truly a masterpiece--a masterpiece that many people enjoy regularly for exercise and stress relief, and thus maintenance of good health.

To say it in the words of Albert Einstein:
“The secret to creativity is knowing how to hide your sources.” 



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Friday, December 31, 2010

Happy New Year MMXI !


I saw this on PeaceLove Yoga's blog and love it!


Happy New Year, my friend!

May 2011 bring health, joy, peace and ease to your life. 




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Thursday, December 30, 2010

Meeting the OM


If you have ever taken Professor Einhorn’s Cultural Anthropology class, you are familiar with her unique assignments.  All of them require stepping out of your comfort zone and experiencing something completely different from what you are used to.  For example, the assignment where she asks to visit a spiritual service of any kind—just not the kind you already know.
Terrible procrastination of this assignment on my part almost made me miss out on a wondrous experience.  One day before the paper was due I frantically searched the internet for ANY kind of service in the area that was offered the same day.  The Hindu Temple in Sunnyvale came to the paper’s (and my) rescue…



Please read in the following about my one-of-a-kind first encounter with Hinduism—and chai for that matter!

My first impression of the temple was rather sobering.  While most Christian churches are recognizable as such from the outside, this temple looked at first glance like a mixture of a single-story office complex and a warehouse.  If it wouldn’t have been for the signs in Sanskrit and large shoe racks in front of the entrance, I may have missed it.  The shoe racks were another surprise.  Everyone who enters the temple is asked to take off their shoes.  This made sense as soon as I entered and saw that the floors were carpeted throughout and there were no chairs or pews.  The main room was huge, with a wide open space in the middle and altars of different sizes along the walls. 

I looked around the altars, each of which had several figures, and sacrifices of fruit, honey, sugar and milk positioned on them.  The icons were very colorful and adorned with necklaces, flowers, and golden hairpieces.  Many of them also had incense sticks affixed to their bases that effused a sweet smell.  The temple was nearly empty, with only the priest, who was busy making phone calls, and a janitor who was vacuuming with an extremely noisy vacuum cleaner.  The priest was dressed in what looked like a white sari with a few golden emblems embroidered on it.  He had shoulder-long hair that was combed back with quite a bit of gel or oil.  I decided to ask the janitor about the Puja that I had hoped to attend, and he informed me that it had started earlier, before I had arrived.  I felt quite frustrated and somewhat at the wrong place, so I was getting ready to go home. 


However, things changed quite rapidly.  The janitor had a hard time speaking English but made a real effort to communicate with me.  Eventually he gestured me to follow him into another large hall, just adjacent to the one we’ve been.  He offered me tea mixed with milk [my first CHAI!!]—very good, very sweet, and spiced with what tasted like cardamom and ginger—and pointed to a table with chairs, while getting some traditional Indian sweets for me to taste.  Several other people came in, sat down with a cup of tea and had some sweets.  Among them, an Indian woman in her fifties, who started talking to me in very good English.  She introduced herself as “Banu.”  It turned out that she was a music teacher from Mumbai, who was visiting her daughter in Sunnyvale.  She said that she would come to the temple every day to sing Hindu hymns, and asked if I’d like to stay and listen, which of course, I was delighted to. 

I followed her back to the other hall where Banu started singing hymns.  She had a strong and clear voice and sang for a good hour, one hymn after the other, every now and then stopping to explain the lyrics to me, which were mostly tales that explained the virtues.  While Banu was singing, more and more people entered the temple.  After entering the building, each came forward to the main altar of the god Vishnu where a bell was attached about six feet above the ground.  Most of the followers rang the bell right as they came up front.  Banu explained that this is to make contact with the gods, to let them know “you are here.”  One elderly woman in particular drew my attention.  She was too small to reach the mallet of the bell with ease, so she took several attempts stretching and jumping until she finally was able to ring the bell loudly.  After ringing the bell, every visitor seemed to have his or her own ritual, touching different parts of the altar, alternating with different parts of their face and head.  They ended the ritual by bringing their forehead to the floor in a kneeling, some in prone position.  Then they sat down somewhere at the edge of the carpet and prayed, meditated or talked to each other. 


I was lucky enough to have stayed, as at noon another daily ritual, Aarti, took place which I was able to observe.  There were about 20 persons in the temple, mostly older and middle-aged adults, as well as two toddlers.  Goal of the Aarti, as most of Hindu rituals, is to receive purification from the gods.  The priest started with a hymn.  Everybody got up from the floor and came closer to the altar.  People took turns ringing the bell very loudly throughout the ritual.  The priest took the tray with the oil lamp from the altar and started moving it in circles in the air to the rhythm of the hymn.  He sat the tray down and one by one everyone picked up the tray and did as the priest had done.  Banu gestured me to follow her up front as she picked up the tray to have her turn.  This made me quite uncomfortable, especially when she leaned over to pass the tray to me.  She must have seen the slight horror in my face, and offered to do it along with me.  I had not expected to be more than a silent observer in the temple, and there I was—an active participant. 

Interesting enough, it seemed as if I was the only one who thought that I was somewhat misplaced.  Everybody else treated me like I was a regular at the temple.  Nobody gave me strange looks or tried to exclude me from any part of the ritual.  The service was said and sung completely in Sanskrit, so I had no idea what the hymns and the sermon meant. 
Then everybody lined up to receive a teaspoon of water mixed with oil and safran in their hands, as well as a piece of fruit that had been offered to the gods at the Puja before and that were now regarded sacred.  Banu prompted me to get in line with her, and so I received those goods as well.  People dispersed soon after they had received the fluid and fruit.  Some were headed to the adjacent hall for tea and sweets, some went to their cars.  I stood outside with Banu for a while and she patiently answered all of my questions before we said good-bye.


During this 2 1/2-hour visit, not only did I learn quite a few details about Hinduism, but I actually experienced one of the key values of the Hindu worldview—acceptance of every living thing.  Although I was a total stranger and felt misplaced first in the temple that looked and felt so different, I enjoyed hospitality and inclusion without any further expectations towards me.  As I was leaving the parking lot, an elderly woman in her traditional sari was waving me good-bye with a big smile on her face, as did the janitor who was standing on the sidewalk. 

I wished all learning would be exhilarating like this!
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Wednesday, December 29, 2010

Leben an der Spalte, Teil 1


Nichts wie raus!  Seit Tagen hielt es uns unweigerlich im Haus da die Alternative sehr nass, kalt und windig aussah.  Heute gab es etwas Zuversicht am Himmel, also Regenjacken an und los geht’s!  Oder?
Immer mit der Ruhe, mein Freund.  Wir sprechen hier davon vier Kinder aus dem Haus zu bekommen.  Noch dazu vier Kinder die die letzten paar Tage warm eingemummelt auf dem Sofa und um den Kuechenherd herum verbracht haben.  Raus ins Kalte?  Noeee, danke!  Lieber nicht.  Ich muss da glaub ich noch schnell an meinem Puzzle weiter machen…noch ein paar Seiten lesen…einen neuen high score am Wii aufstellen…irgendwas…blos nicht raus! 
Doch heute hatte ich einen Trumpf in der Hand den niemand abzuweisen vermochte:  Oma’s Paket!  Ja, diese mit den vermeintlich schoensten Weihnachtsgeschenken gespickte Kiste, die in mittlerweile ueber 4 Wochen die lange Reise ueber den grossen Teich immer noch nicht abgeschlossen hat—und indes von ihrem Nachfolger ueberholt wurde—koennte ja eventuell heute eintreffen.  Falls niemand zuhause ist wenn die nette Dame von der Post klingelt, ist guter Rat teuer.  Also: 
ALLEMAN RAUS INS AUTO, ODER WIR SIND NICHT ZURUECK BEVOR DIE POSTFRAU KOMMT!!



Das wirkte! 
Etwas Gekreische und Gewimmer hier und da, fehlende Schuhe, unauffindbare Regenjacken,  verschollene Fahrradhelme—nichts half.  Heute gehen wir an die frische Luft!
20 Minuten ueber den windigen Highway, durch Regenschauer und an mehreren hartgesottenen Fahrradfahrern und zukuenftigen Marathonlaeufern auf der Landstrasse vorbei, und wir kamen bei den Crystal Springs Lakes an.  Wer sich etwas mit der Geographie, Geologie und vor allem Tektonik der Bay Area auskennt, weiss dass es sich bei den beiden Seen um den mit Stauwasser gefuellten San Andreas Graben handelt.  Selbiger ist der Grund warum hier die Erde eigentlich staendig, wenn auch meist unmerklich bebt.  Ich werde in Kuerze einen zweiten Teil zu diesem Thema verfassen, der sich etwas mehr mit den Freuden und Sorgen vom Leben an der Spalte befassen wird.  Doch jetzt zurueck zu unserem Ausflug.

        


Was haette man nach Tagen des Dauerregens auch anderes erwarten koennen?  Schoene grosse Pfuetzen, rauschende Wildbaeche gespeist vom gesammelten Regenwasser der umliegenden Gipfel, und aufgeweichte, matschige Haenge.  Ein Paradies wenn man Gummistiefel anhat!
Ploetzlich war alle Muedigkeit vergessen.  Mit Fahrrad, Skateboard und zu Fuss ging es los, den geteerten aber von Erdbebenaktivitaet stark gezeichneten Weg am Rande der Seen entlang.  Wer haette gedacht, dass ich sogar noch ein paar hundert Meter Joggen in Verfolgung der Suessen in diesem Ausflug unterbringen koennte?
      

Die Maedels genossen die grossen Pfuetzen in vollen Zuegen und ich war unweigerlich an die schier unendlich grosse (zumindest mit Kinderaugen gesehen) Maehdachwiese, nur ein paar Schritte von meinem Elternhaus entfernt, erinnert.  Ein Bach fliesst durch das riesige Wiesengelaende.  Meist tut er das unterirdisch, aber im Herbst und Winter steht die ganze Wiese voll mit schoenen grossen Matschpfuetzen in denen es sich herrlich spielen liess.  Viele Stunden meiner Kindheit verbrachte ich mit meinen Schwestern und Freunden in und um diese Wasserlachen.


Auch heute war das Wasser um uns ein riesen Erfolg.  Der wunderschoene Ausblick ueber die Seen und angrenzenden Waelder war fast so schoen wie der meiner vier Erdferkel die keine Pfuetze und kein Matschloch ausliessen…  Trotz schlussendlich wassergefuellter Gummistiefeln hatten wir ein riesen Spass.

Und Oma’s Paket?  Das kam leider immer noch nicht.  Dies kann nur eins heissen—morgen geht’s wieder raus!  Und besser ohne Troedeln, denn wer weiss ob wir sonst wieder zuhause sind bis die Postfrau klingelt?!





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