Sandlander

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Fri, 14 Feb 2020 17:03:00 +0000

Ce que l'on te reproche, cultive le, c'est toi! (Jean Cocteau)

Dear reader,

My beloved Auld Da, my Papi, my close friend, Malcolm J. Thomson has popped his clogs (as he used to name it) way sooner than we all had believed and hoped he would. On Monday, 27th of January 2020 he silently passed away. I am unbelievably thankful that we had the chance to spent a nice number of joyful hours with him at the ‚Vinc’ given the circumstances during the last 1 1/2 years. His invincible positivity and sense of humor in any situation shall inspire us to take life as it comes and worst case make lemonade out of the lemons it gives.

His blog will also remain with us and for anybody who wants to dive deeper into Papis life here is a link to his Memoire he wrote following my wish.

We will all miss him hugely and he leaves an unclosable gap.

Jessi, Mickey, Tino - Nick & family - Philippa & family - and so many more!

Last farewell:

Monday, 23.03.2020 at 9:00am at AETAS in Baldurstraße 39, 80638 Munich.

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 23 Jan 2020 10:14:00 +0000

In time to celebrate Hogmanay, Mickey invited Tino's father, affectionately called Riessi, to visit Munich with his son.

I think it's the first time I've posted an image which gives some idea of how Mickey has shaped her environment now that Jessi has moved to Berlin where she and Tino are making the Kreuzberg flat their own.

Riessi did not bring with him any Christmas Tree, the weather being unseasonably mild. But the image with a tree on the roof of a red Mini with Munch license plates was just cried out to be posted.

22.12.2019

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sun, 22 Dec 2019 10:13:00 +0000

Today, as any Druidic calendar will remind us, is Juul. Henceforth and until midsummer, the days will be getting longer. Another fine reason for me to wear a happy face is that as I write Jessi and Tino are on a train from Hamburg to Munich. In the city on the Elbe the Xmas festivities kicked off for Tino's family and Jessi was their guest.

#2,800

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sat, 07 Sep 2019 13:55:00 +0000

I may not have many followers for my digital diary, but they let me know in no uncertain terms when (in their opinion) I am using my ailments as an excuse not to blog.

So herewith a whole bunch of photos from a duly chastised Auld Da.

#2,799

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 05 Sep 2019 12:47:00 +0000

The heatwave, we were told, was coming to an end.

The doctor determined that while the yellow quarantine pennant must continue to fly figuratively at the entrance to my room, after six months of solitary confinement and in anticipation of a good result from the latest treatment with super-potent antibiotics, I could be allowed a 'Kaffee und Kuchen' outing in the garden of the Vinzentinum before the weather deteriorated.

Yesterday the sun shone! Jessi and Mickey were no longer obliged to disguise themselves in Tyvek or similar hazmat suiting. The sudden pleasure of being out of doors for the first time in half a year meant there were many photos taken. How very much I miss having a decent version of Photoshop.

#2,798

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Tue, 16 Jul 2019 12:06:00 +0000

The protagonist of ColinDexter's appeared not only in the 33 two-hour episodes the Inspector Morse television series but also in diverse prequels and sequels.

Dead Man's Walk is an unofficial fan-based story that follows closely 'in the grand tradition of Colin Dexter's original creation', a posthumous prequel if you like.

It amuses me that there is a product placement name-check for Glenkinchie Single Malt whisky, a favourite of mine not least due to its Lowlands provenance.

Now maybe I should read the Dexter oeuvre which I had hitherto written off as mere 'made for television' writing.

#2,797

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Mon, 01 Jul 2019 11:54:00 +0000

"These youngsters today don't know how lucky they are!"

The picture misleads, however. Today's wake up cuppa, much to Jessi's liking, is served at the Alikanas resort on the Greek island of Zakynthos. Since the 1980s it has become a preferred destination for the under-30 tourists in particular from Great Britain.

Alykanas is now the busiest destination on the island for British holidaymakers, surpassing Tsivili and Kalamaki, which are more popular with families.

Jessi is working! The British operator of numerous resorts in the region is producing a series of television commercials and Jessi has been hired as stylist. Next week they'll fly her out again do the styling for one of their resorts in Turkey.

Admittedly she'll be working under supervision, but being entrusted with such responsibilities as a relative newcomer. and in a competitive environment like that in Berlin is a positive sign.

#2,796

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 06 Jun 2019 10:04:00 +0000

Whereas my old flat was situated in a part of Munich which has always been favoured by those of a Bourgeois/Bohème disposition, my domicile is nowadays is in a neighbourhood which I could never have imagined calling home. It is a mere hop, skip and a jump distant from the Residenz in central Munich the former royal palace of the Wittelsbach monarchs of Bavaria.

The chapel is quite splendid but fortunately, there is no pressure to espouse the Catholic faith and inmates are free to furnish and accessorise their allotted space as they see fit. In my case, it means that my Gabriele Mucchi lounge chair has followed me to my little room beneath the eves.

From the top floor window, I have a splendid view of the skyscape beyond the horizon. And I have discovered a fascination for the condensation trails etched in the deep blue of the Bavarian heaven by high-flying aircraft.

It seems that 30 to 40 thousand feet above Munich two airway tracks, one predominantly for eastbound traffic, the other for planes heading west, cross. From my earth-bound vantage point, this can cause very rarely the drawing of a perfect St Andrew's Cross, or for Scots a Saltire, in the sky. The fact that this is a benediction of extremely limited duration makes this a phenomenon which is somehow Scottish indeed.

There is also an ephemeral and evanescent aspect to this celestial display. Only certain combinations of high-altitude and low temperature mean that the contrails will be visible in all their transient glory. (I think I have understood that correctly).

While on the subject of things I can observe from my window, I'd not want to forget the sedate appearance of the Zeppelin NT. The blimp conducts sightseeing excursions offering a bird's eye view of the city which is doubtless a further improvement on the clever virtuality provided by Google. It so happens that when the Zeppelin approaches the city centre, the change of heading takes place directly above the Vincentinum. Very impressive!

#2,795

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Fri, 31 May 2019 09:16:00 +0000

Let's see now... a while back it was deemed fitting and proper that my presence for seventy-nine years on this distraught wee planet was worthy of celebration in some form or another. That I am for the foreseeable future institutionalised is not to be seen as a problem.

As I review all the photos I'd probably have posted on a day-by-day basis, there are a good few I'd like to share before they are too old to be in any way relevant.

Mickey discovered that the Vincentium has a sort of conservatory that can be reserved for private events.

For my birthday there were the usual tulips, the Glenkinchie Single Malt and the home-made chocolate flan. All in all, it wasn't that far from the way the occasion would have been observed if I still had my apartment in Schwabing-West.

#2,794

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Tue, 28 May 2019 11:45:00 +0000

I have now been moved to a single occupancy room on the top floor just under the clock tower. This, of course, suits Auld Da, the misanthrope, very well. However, it must be noted that I also have the distinction of being the only resident under quarantine, having previously been billeted with an old gentleman who, it was determined, carried a seriously infectious intestinal disease. Pictured is Julia, my favourite caregiver, without her face mask.

Visitors, as well as carers, must wear protective garb, which I find quite comical.

'Clostridium Difficile' is the name of my affliction, not that I shall be googling in search of further information

Where ignorance is bliss, it is folly to be wise.

#2.793

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Wed, 20 Feb 2019 14:37:00 +0000

Adieu, Karl!

For some reason I prefer the photos of a younger Karl Lagerfeld, from a time when he was still wondering what he could get away with.

#2,792

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sat, 16 Feb 2019 15:15:00 +0000

Last weekend the view from the common room at the Vincentinum was very pretty, although I was pleased not to have to deal with the chill wind.

Barely a week later Jessi reports 16 degrees from Berlin. Here in Munich demonstrators hoping to get their message across to the likes of and 40 other defence and foreign ministers from the EU and NATO will not be freezing this year.

#2,791

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Mon, 11 Feb 2019 15:17:00 +0000

Before I was judged incapable of living on my own, before I became just one of about 300 ancients who populate (as 'inmates', in my opinion, rather than the euphemistically preferable alternative that is 'residents') the Vincentinum the frequency of my blog postings was quite respectable, and I took care with the design, subjecting the layout to the strictures of a 16:9 format for the visual content.

In the senior citizens' residence it was not feasible to duplicate the computer hardware/software configuration that had served me so well in the past. Hence... sloppy layout to be expected in future posts.

#2,790

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sun, 23 Dec 2018 11:47:00 +0000

In 1846, Søren Kierkegaard, one of the fathers of existentialism, argued that the pursuit of knowledge was distracting people from finding meaning, writing ‘people in our time, because of so much knowledge, have forgotten what it means to exist’. He argued that when presented with unlimited choices, we face a dizzying anxiety. ‘Standing on a cliff, a sense of disorientation and confusion clouds you. Not only are you afraid of falling, you also fear succumbing to the impulse of throwing yourself off. Nothing is holding you back. Dread, anxiety and anguish rise to the surface’.

I noted this and posted it in late January of what proved to a rather taxing year. Medics agree that I qualify for 'assisted living' support, which implies residence in a nursing home or comparable institution offering round-the-clock care. On this score I got lucky - the Valentinum retains a hint of earlier elegance and I am both delighted and astonished that the Bavarian social security system allows for generosity of this kind.

On the other hand, almost ten years in my very pretty Schwabing-West apartment, where visitors were rare, was probably enough.

#2,789

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Fri, 28 Sep 2018 13:49:00 +0000

It would please me greatly to be able to claim that the photo on the left documents a significant change (for the better) in my status. But no, I'm still a docile inmate of the Vincentinum retirement home and unlikely to be anything else in spite of time's passage.

So why am I 'dressed up' for an outing in this oversized wheelchair? For a visit to a dentist who will make the needed repairs to dentures which just happened to lose a couple of "teeth" during the months I have spent in clinics. After a further visit I hope to by able to speak clearly again, which would do wonders for the old amour propre!

#2,788

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Mon, 06 Aug 2018 07:43:00 +0000

Rewind five years, to 2013, when it seemed like a topping wheeze to be an 'extra' in a television movie directed by an acquaintance. It would be far from onerous, spending the day being pushed around in a wheelchair, looking feeble.

Of course it was fun, with Jessi togged up as the 'carer' of the obstreperous old man in question.

Now half a decade later I have an appreciation of what it means to of be dependent. Medics at various health facilities have spent months trying to decide whether my afflictions are merely those of an ageing gentleman but they appear to have concluded that I should not be living alone by any means.

And so it comes to pass that for the foreseeable future I shall be resident in a retirement home. This sounds direr than it is; the biggest hassle until now has been the weakness of internet connectivity. Here at the Vincentinum, (established in 1857 as the first institution of its kind in Munich) I may be the only resident of approximately three hundred for whom happiness can be defined as an activated Wlan dongle. I'm immensely grateful to the web-savvy duo of Jessi and Tino for making this possible.

#2,787

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Mon, 23 Apr 2018 13:11:00 +0000

There is nothing especially rational about it, but when one's offspring show an affinity for the profession exercised by a father there is a real feeling of satisfaction.

So observing as Jessi produces and shoots one video reportage after another, including for her former employer, unu, the manufacturer of electrically powered scooters, makes me a happy Auld Da.

Soon a new client will add a slightly different but very welcome perspective. Readers will be well aware of how very much I valued my years in the Sandlands, and how much I learned from my exposure to the culture of Araby. Soon Jessica will have her very own corner of this culture to portray in video in her work for Tabadul.

#2,786

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 19 Apr 2018 09:38:00 +0000

My home-visiting carer is happy about the progress of the treatment of my feet. I look forward to not having to shuffle and to be able to venture beyond the confines of my flat. Okay, this will call for a 'walker', but WTF!

#2,785

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Fri, 13 Apr 2018 13:44:00 +0000

It seemed like such a good idea at the time...

In mid-2013 I cancelled my Facebook account, at a time when the platform's toxicity was not yet apparent. My rationale then I noted as follows:

At the end of May, I started to cancel all of my social network memberships. Facebook now has no trace of me. Not that I have anything to hide, but nor have I noticed any benefits from making status updates and such. Anyone with even the most minimal interest in my doings can always join the readership of this blog!

#2,784

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sun, 08 Apr 2018 13:39:00 +0000

"aVOID is a nine square metre tiny house on wheels inspired by minimalism. Inside it's a transformable empty room to clear your mind and make space for big dreams: avoid." Were I not immobilised, I'd certainly have attended the exhibition at the Munich Pinakothek this weekend.

#2,783

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 05 Apr 2018 10:35:00 +0000

Even incapacitated, housebound on account of my accursed lumbago, Auld Da enjoys the feeling of being sort of helpful. I am allowed to help Jessi and Tino with the planning of their mid-summer holiday in Scotland! A shame, only, that the canary yellow Landy is only something I improvised with Photoshop...

#2,782

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Mon, 02 Apr 2018 12:16:00 +0000

The Easter Bunny had Mickey and our daughter as enthusiastic helpers, showering me with seasonal largesse including beautiful tulips as well as chocolate eggs. There was a bottle of something pink and effervescent which also went down very well with the sushi we ordered in.

It's so nice that Jessi is able to take almost ten days as a holiday break to spend with us in Munich.

#2,781

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sat, 31 Mar 2018 10:52:00 +0000

The poor fish faces extinction. Since the sixteenth century, the Poisson d’Avril has been associated with tomfoolery on the 1^st of April. Before King Charles XIV switched France to the new Gregorian calendar, the New Year was celebrated from 25 March to 1 April according to the Roman calendar. Those who hadn’t heard about the move or who chose to still celebrate the New Year on April 1^st were made fun of as ‘fools’. Children play an April Fools’ Day trick by placing a paper fish on adults’ backs then running away yelling Poisson d'Avril.

Such innocence!

There have been audaciously absurd japes that have gone down in history and even inspired re-enactment.

from Wiki

“The spaghetti-tree hoax was a three-minute report broadcast on April Fools' Day 1957 by the BBC current-affairs programme Panorama, purportedly showing a family in southern Switzerland harvesting spaghetti from the family ‘spaghetti tree’. At the time spaghetti was relatively little known in the United Kingdom so that many Britons were unaware that it is made from wheat flour and water. A number of viewers afterwards contacted the BBC for advice on growing their own spaghetti trees. Decades later CNN called this broadcast ‘the biggest hoax that any reputable news establishment ever pulled’.”

But today the ‘news establishment’ cannot be called universally ‘reputable. With Herr Drumpf across the pond and Brexit the preoccupation in Britain, what may appear in 2018 to be a trenchant jest can turn out to be a grim reality, especially when Rees-Mogg or Boris are involved. Of course, neither man can be called an ardent Francophile, so I guess the Poisson was doomed.

Fish ‘n’ chips anyone?

#2,780

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sun, 25 Mar 2018 15:24:00 +0000

From Fast Company

"It shook the world with passion and outrage. At least two million people marched on Saturday in more than eight hundred March for Our Lives protests across the United States and the world, with 800,000 attending in Washington D.C. alone, making it the largest single-day protest in the history of the nation’s capital."

#2,779

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sun, 25 Mar 2018 09:19:00 +0000