My New Year's Resolution: no more blogging!

 

 

 

 

 

 

P.S. I made this resolution after my wife threatened to slam my head on the keyboard if I don't get off the computer ... I’m not too worried; I think she’s just jokinlkjhfakljn m,.nbziyoao78yv87dfaoyuofaytdf

 

The end of another day; the start of another year

 

The end of another year is a time of reflection. Is it not a pleasure, although often a sad pleasure, to see once more what we have seen before, to live the old time over again, to look once more at dear faces, once so full of life, to feel the touch of a vanished hand, and hear a voice that is still?

As we grow old it is our fate to lose our friends; but the friends we have lost are often nearer to us than those who remain. Will they never be quite near to us again? Stars meet stars after thousands of years, and are we not like stars? Reinhard Mey sings it better than I can say it:

 

 

Gute Nacht Freunde Es wird Zeit für mich zu gehen Was ich noch zu sagen hätte Dauert eine Zigarette Und ein letztes Glas im Stehen Für den Tag, für die Nacht unter eurem Dach habt Dank Für den Platz an eurem Tisch, für jedes Glas, das ich trank Für den Teller, den ihr mir zu den euren stellt Als sei selbstverständlicher nichts auf der Welt Gute Nacht Freunde Es wird Zeit für mich zu gehen Was ich noch zu sagen hätte Dauert eine Zigarette Und ein letztes Glas im Stehen Habt Dank für die Zeit, die ich mit euch verplaudert hab Und für eure Geduld, wenn's mehr als eine Meinung gab Dafür, dass ihr nie fragt, wann ich komm oder geh Für die stets offene Tür, in der ich jetzt steh Gute Nacht Freunde Es wird Zeit für mich zu gehen Was ich noch zu sagen hätte Dauert eine Zigarette Und ein letztes Glas im Stehen Für die Freiheit, die als steter Gast bei euch wohnt Habt Dank, dass ihr nie fragt, was es bringt, ob es lohnt Vielleicht liegt es daran, dass man von draußen meint Dass in euren Fenstern das Licht wärmer scheint Gute Nacht Freunde Es wird Zeit für mich zu gehen Was ich noch zu sagen hätte Dauert eine Zigarette Und ein letztes Glas im Stehen

 

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Same procedure as every year!

If access to this video is blocked in some countries, click here for an alternative

 

Dinner for One is watched all over the world on December 31st. The 18-minute British comedy sketch, recorded in 1963, holds the Guinness World Record for the most frequently aired television programme.

It is a particularly crucial part of Germany’s festive programming, where it has been broadcast since 1972. Around half the population still tunes in on New Year’s Eve to watch it; some Germans recreate the meal served in the skit, and serve Mulligatawny soup accompanied by dry Sherry, North Sea haddock with white wine, chicken with Champagne, and fruit for dessert served with a fine port wine.

In 2018 the German Post Office unveiled a set of commemorative stamps featuring its characters. One of its lines — "the same procedure as every year" — has become something of a catchphrase in the country.

 

 

Filmed in grainy black-and-white, the routine involves Miss Sophie (May Warden), who is celebrating her 90th birthday with James, her butler (Freddie Frinton). She has outlived her four closest friends and so insists that James impersonate them all in turn. They are an eclectic bunch. First is Sir Toby, a raspy-voiced northerner. Next up is Admiral von Schneider, who raises his toasts with a loud “Skol!” Then comes the turn of Mr Pommeroy, who speaks in an alarmingly high-pitched falsetto. The last guest is Mr Winterbottom, Miss Sophie’s "very dear friend", who is a booze-swilling lecher.

"Dinner for One" is the greatest cult film you’ve never heard of, but now, thanks to me, you have! Allow us to wish you Feliz Año Nuevo, Bonne Année, Boldog Új Évet Kivánok, Gott nytt år, С Новым годом, Felice anno nuovo, Prosit Neujahr, and Happy New Year. And don't forget: it's the same procedure as every year! (nudge nudge wink wink)

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A late Christmas present from the Berlin booklady

 

The booklady in Berlin who many years ago stopped selling me books which, however, didn't stop her from continuing her longlasting friendship, has sent me a late Christmas present.

So what do you give to a man who's already got everything, including lots of money? More money, that's what! - I always become somewhat ungrammatical when it comes to money - and so she stuffed a large million-mark banknote into an envelope and mailed it off to Australia.

Alas, it arrived too late for our Christmas shopping; in fact, it arrived almost a hundred years too late, but it's the thought that counts, isn't it, even if it's a weird one! Thank you, Renate, and allow me to wish you, as Commodore, Secretary, Treasurer, and only member of the Nelligen Yacht Club, a Happy and now also Prosperous New Year!

 

 

And, with apologies to Robert Burns, here's 'Auld Lang Syne' in German:

 

 

Nehmt Abschied Brüder Ungewiss ist alle Wiederkehr Die Zukunft liegt in Finsternis Und macht das Herz uns schwer Der Himmel wölbt sich übers Land Ade, Auf Wiedersehn Wir ruhen all in Gottes Hand Lebt wohl, Auf Wiedersehn Die Sonne sinkt, es steigt die Nacht Vergangen ist der Tag Die Welt schläft ein und leis erwacht Der Nachtigallenschlag Der Himmel wölbt sich übers Land Ade, Auf Wiedersehn Wir ruhen all in Gottes Hand Lebt wohl, Auf Wiedersehn So ist in jedem Anbeginn Das Ende nicht mehr weit Wir kommen her und gehen hin Und mit uns geht die Zeit Der Himmel wölbt sich übers Land Ade, Auf Wiedersehn Wir ruhen all in Gottes Hand Lebt wohl, Auf Wiedersehn Nehmt Abschied Brüder Schließt den Kreis Das Leben ist ein Spiel Und wer es recht zu spielen weiß Gelangt ans große Ziel Der Himmel wölbt sich übers Land Ade, Auf Wiedersehn Wir ruhen all in Gottes Hand Lebt wohl, Auf Wiedersehn

 

And since this is a bilingual household, you may also have to put up with the Indonesian version:

 

 

Kini tiba saatnya kita untuk berpisah S'lamat tinggal tahun yang lama penuh kenangan Semoga di tahun yang baru Tuhan memberkati Kebahagiaan yang lebih dari tahun yang silam

 

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The Year My Voice Broke

 

Canberra is a hundred-and-forty clicks away, or an easy hour-and-a-half drive, up the Kings Highway, and yet, since my retirement in the year 2000, I've been back there only once - ONCE! - and that was for an urgent medical appointment.

Canberra was where I first found my feet when the ANZ Bank hired me in 1965 just after I'd come off the boat from Europe, and it was there that I eventually returned to in 1985 after my circuitous route around the world. A very low tolerance for boredom had always been my biggest problem which I finally solved by becoming self-employed.

The two-hundred-odd clients of Canberra Computer Accounting Systems kept me constantly on my toes, with no time off for weekends or even annual holidays. All that changed when I bought "Riverbend" in 1993, which drew me more and more to the coast and, ultimately, into early retirement, but not before I had commuted between Canberra and Nelligen for seven long years, or more than three-hundred weekends.

I came to know the Kings Highway like the back of my hand - and long before it became full of liver spots - and I remember always having a bit of a chuckle round Bungendore where Canturf, a turf-growing company, advertised its wares with slightly naughty puns centred around the word "laid". Pity I never took a picture because they must've been considered too "sexist" in these PC-conscious times and have now been replaced with much safer political satire. My favourites are "It Gets Rolled Faster than Rudd" and "Mown and Grown in Fyshwick" and "Feeling lawnly? Pickup at Fyshwick" (for out-of-towners: Fyshwick has Canberra's only brothels!) It makes you groan, doesn't it? (or should that be "grown"?)

Once past Bungendore, the next stop was Braidwood. Its old Royal Mail Hotel advertised on large billboards the availability of "Accamadation" which prompted me to call in one day to have a word with the publican. "You have no idea how many extra beers we sell just because people like you keep popping in to tell us about the wrong spelling", he replied, after which I became another one of his regular weekend customers.

Just down from the Royal Mail Hotel was a small butcher shop in which I discovered some of the best German smallgoods, including my all-time favourite "Leberkäse" which made me to ask him, "Are you German?" "No", he replied, "but I did my apprenticeship with a German butcher in Sydney." I always bought something from him on my way to the coast; unfortunately, my patronage wasn't enough as he closed years later.

All of Braidwood is now a National Trust-classified town, the first to be listed on the NSW State Heritage register. Its charming colonial buildings, rustic streetscapes and rural beauty have been the perfect backdrop for iconic Australian films such as "Ned Kelly" (the one with Mick Jagger; not this one!) and "Flirting" and "The Year My Voice Broke".

 

 

There you are, I've saved you the trouble of a trip to Braidwood! It's just as well because I don't think I ever want to go back up that way again!

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