Hansi and His Party - An evening that was never to be.

 

One day, Hansi Seiler, a good friend of mine, decided to move. He'd had enough of the view and fancied a change. And, then, after some looking, Hansi Seiler found a nice flat in a nice part of town, Vienna's 3^rd district.

And so, Hansi Seiler moved flat. And, 3 months later decided to have a house-warming party. A select dinner for close drinking friends and his mother. And, the invitations went out.

Now, dinner parties involve organization. Hansi made lists, borrowed chairs from his brother, and the Gasthaus where he went everyday lent him the glasses and plates. And, then the great day arrived.

Hansi got up and went shopping, and his afternoon was spent making salads, peeling potatoes, putting beer and wine in the bath tub to cool, and generally doing what had to be done. And, then at 8 on the dot, we arrived.

But, there was no smell of cooking and no drink to say welcome. Hansi told us to keep our coats on. We were all going out! Why, we all wanted to know!

The reason was simple. The time had arrived for Hansi to put the meat in the oven and the rice on to cook. So far – so good. But, then came the surprise. It was then, 3 months after moving in, that Hansi discovered his stove didn't work. A tragedy?

Not really. Hansi gave the food to his mother to freeze and off we all went to the Gasthaus. And there we stayed and had fun for the rest of the evening. Full circle again! There are places one can't get away from.

But, of course, Hansi bought a new stove and was happy. But, Hansi still hasn't used it. Cooking was never for Him. But, who knows? Celebrations can sometimes come out of the blue, and, maybe, one day, Hansi will need his new stove. But, there will be a difference. Hansi's stove definitely works! But, will he know how? Which knob for this and which knob for that? And, the oven?

The Gasthaus will always be better. We are, after all, creatures of habit!

Hansi Seiler, a man of good heart who moved flat and tried to cook a nice meal. But, never again. The Gasthaus will always be better!

Hansi and his party - An evening that was never meant to be!

Listen here on Youtube

A Patchwork Present - Patches from all-over the world and a happy little baby

 

A Patchwork Present

Christmas is coming and Lucy Abel is at home in Vienna and knitting a patch. And, this little patch has a long way to go. It fact, it's going to Canada. But, when it gets there it won't be alone. There will be other patches, too, and they will be coming from China, Africa, the USA, Great Britain and France. And, all to become part of a patchwork present for little Sarah Abel.

When little Sarah Abel was born 5 years ago, Lucy Abel had an idea. Why not make a patchwork blanket for her new little granddaughter? It would be perfect for Christmas. And, Lucy Abel's daughter in law agreed without question. What a brilliant idea! But, then together they had a brilliant idea! Why not ask other friends and relatives to join in with the present as well! Everyone who wanted could knit a patch and send it to Canada, too. And, not only once, but also year after year, and all to be part of an on-going ever growing blanket of colourful patches. And now, 5 years later, 27 more little patches will be making their way from far away places to Canada.

And, there's another interesting side to this story as well. These patches don't only look nice when all sewn together, they keep family and friends together and in contact as well. And, because each little patch arrives with a card, the Abels in Canada have lots of nice Christmas cards to admire and hang up - and all from all over the world.

Lucy Abel had an idea. And now, people all over the world are doing the same. Everyone's knitting a patch. And, little Sarah Abel in Canada is keeping warm in the winter in a blanket that grows every Christmas.

Lucy Abel, a lady who not only thinks of today, but the future as well, and next year, she'll be knitting again. Happy Christmas, Lucy Abel.

More English Fun!

English Warm-ups - Phrases to turn on your English. Mini translations. 

Peter Rosegger and Old Kramer Teresa - A mountain childhood story

 Peter Rosegger and Old Kramer Teresa - A mountain childhood story 

People enjoy looking forward to things that are special. Birthdays, Christmas, and other meaningful days. And, these moments of joy always involve other people. People who are special. And, in his book, *As I was still a Forest Farmer's Son, Peter Rosegger, the Austrian author, thinks kindly back to old Kramer Teresa. She was a very kind old lady and her visits to the Rosseger's farm in the mountains of Austria were moments that were never forgotten.

Old Kramer Teresa came twice a year. Once in the winter and again in the spring. Old Kramer Teresa came selling her goods. And, she carried on her back a kind of chest of drawers in the form of a ruck-sack. And, this chest of drawers on her back was a pack of surprises. And, arriving at the Rosseger's farm house, Old Kramer-Thresel would unpack her wares on the old kitchen table. The children's eyes then opened wide with delight. It was the same every time. This was a moment that didn't come often.

There were sweets to suck and enjoy, mouth-organs to play, brightly painted wooden spoons, tobacco to smoke, pocket knives for carving, small wooden horses on wheels, toy soldiers in colourful uniforms, and, many other things as well. Something for everyone. And, because each boy and girl had kept their promises to behave and be good, the rewards were not long in coming. Each child was given a gift of their very own choice. And, the children were happy and joyful.

And, everyone else was happy as well. Then, after a fine simple meal of sausage and bread, Teresa Kramer went on her way. Into the freshness of green in the spring, and, into the snow and the ice in the winter. And, as Old Kramer Teresa waved happily goodbye the waiting began once again.

Peter Rosegger was born in 1843 and died in 1918. In his book, “As I was still a Forest Farmer's Son”, Peter Rosegger describes his childhood in the mountains of Austria, His book is packed full of interesting stories and is a must for everyone interested in Austrian history.

Moments of magic always involve other people. People who are special. And, in those days, Teresa Kramer was a very special person in the mountains of Austria. A lady who called twice a year with her bag of surprises.

Peter Rosegger - As I was still a Forest Farmer's Son. A book that's well worth the read.

Peter Rosegger and Teresa Kramer – Growing up in the mountains of Austria

*German title – Als ich noch der Waldbauernbub war – Peter Rosegger.

Vocabulary

mouth-organs – Mundharmonika -

tobacco pipes – Tabakpfeife -

pocket knives , Taschenmesser -

buttons – Kopfe -

brightly painted wooden spoons - bunt bemalte Holzlöffel -

small wooden horses on wheels - kleine Holzpferde auf Rädern -

toy soldiers in colourful uniforms - Spielzeugsoldaten in bunten Uniformen

Click Here to listen to text on Youtube - with full text

Diarikom this Week - Short Essay - The City of Veszprem and Suszi - and more

 

Scroll down for The City of Veszprem and Zsuzsi - Socialist history -  and - The Green Children of Woolpit- A medieval story

The City of Veszprem and  Zsuzsi

If you go down to Veszprem in Hungary, you will find a city of pasts. An historic past with a castle – and a socialist past with its social housing developments. Veszprem is ancient and modern and cultural and fun. Veszprem is well worth a visit.

And, whilst visiting Veszprem last summer, I discovered a statue just off the main square. A statue of a woman. And, this woman could have been anyone. But, this is a statue of Zsuzsi  in stone. And, Zsuzsi was, and still is, someone quite special. She's loved by the people of Veszprem. And, funnily enough, Zsuzsi  comes from a time that was not loved at all. The socialist era.

The clearing up was fast at the end of the socialist time. The hammers and sickles and the Lenins and Stalin's soon disappeared. Hungary was Hungary again. But, Zsuzsi was not cleared away. This small part of the past had to stay. Zsuzsi was very important.

 Zsuzsi was not only a woman, she was more. All through the communist days, the people of Veszprem saw Suszi as a symbol of hope. And, sure enough, the dark days of oppression did come to  an end. And there Suszi stood. True to the hearts of the people who loved her.

But, some people had believed that Zsuzsi  should leave Veszprem as well. She, after-all, was a socialist figure. And so, the council decided that Suszi should be broken up, too, Just like the Lenins and Stalins. But, the people said no in a very loud way. Suszi should stay. They would not let her go. And, so, the council gave way. And, that's why Suzi's still there. In the hearts of the people in the heart of the city of Veszprem.

The city of Veszprem has many different pasts.  But, Zsuzsi'  eternal.  Zsuzsi is hope.

Veszprem. A small town in Hungary that's well worth a visit.

   Zsuzsi- by Nigel A. JAMES

A Mystery - The Green Children of Woolpit

In 1142, two very strange children were discovered in the English village of Woolpit. They were brother and sister. The children had unusual clothes and spoke an unknown language. But, the strangest of all, they were green. Two green little children. A mystery. No one knew who they were, and no one knew from where they had come.

Then, after being given a home by Richard de Calne, the children quickly learned English. And, after some time, their green colour gradually faded. They had become like everyone else. But, sady, after an illness, the little boy died leaving his sister alone. It was then the girl told what she knew.

The children had come from St. Martin's. A land where the sun never shone and the light was like twilight and everything and everyone was green. But, how had they come to Woolpit? The little girl had no idea. The only thing she remembered was looking after her father's cattle in St. Martin's. Nothing more.

The girl became known as Agnes and later married. But, the mystery remained. St. Martins, her very strange language, and green, the colour of her skin.

A true story and a mystery that has never been solved. The Green Children of Woolpit.

                                                           Woolpit Village in England