Today I had my first Glühwein of the season (with many more to come).

Cathy came to visit! After a lovely drink with Gemma and Harriet, we made the silly decision of going to the supermarket for more wine.

So Helen and Keith's visit mainly consisted of us eating cheese, and then feeling sorry for ourselves. And then eating more cheese. And so on. Ah the circle, the circle of life.

It was another lovely afternoon at Tempelhof. Dan and Nicolas had a race. Nicolas won. I think they are still friends though.

B 1.2 Deutsch. It is getting a tad confusing now.

Anyone know of any Art Department/Art Direction or Architechure Photography internships or assistantships going? Anyone? Please?

World-changing ideas are being discussed in these meetings...

The desperate search for the missing glove is under way.

My head is now so toasty warm! Thanks Conor!

As Sam, Kimberlee and I were biking up and down the runways I tried to find my friend Aurelie. She said she would be flying an orange kite. Turns out there were about 17 000 orange kites flying on Sunday. A sad story. But then we saw this woman!

I was Chief Navigator.

There was some biking. There was some raining. There were some damp jeans.

A smoke-free venue in Berlin? Why, I don't believe it.

Today Sam and I took our own biscuits from home to Passenger Espresso, our local cafe (and the best place for flat whites in Kreuzberg). But I didn't want to focus on that hobo-ish behaviour, so I wrote up this list instead.

Harvesting potatoes with Conor. Making potato salad for dinner with Conor. Watching 'Goodbye Pork Pie' and eating the aforementioned potato salad, with Conor.

So, we FINALLY tended to our garden (it was in a terribly embarrassing state), and I am very excited about planting the winter seeds that Conor is growing on her windowsill. Feldsalat for all!
Also, I think Goodbye Pork Pie is a gem of a movie. Beautiful NZ slang such as 'She's gonna crap out'.
Also, the potato salad was DELICIOUS.
Also, we love to hang with Conor, we really do! 

Monday and an afternoon/evening of painting with Paula. Go the Lady Painters!

http://ladypainters.blogspot.com/
Tell your rich and big apartment living friends!

A lovely Sunday afternoon adventure to Teufelssee and Teufelsberg with Sam, Conor and Nicolas. Not so many nudes this time.

We saw 1 reclining nude (and one guy with just his pants off), several snuffling wild white pigs, many people peacefully strolling around the old spy base, and no mushrooms.

Saturday morning battles of 'I'll put the coffee on if you fetch the paper', are about to begin...

Beautiful rainbow coloured vines make me like autumn very much.

Today I went on an adventure to the 'Schnell & Schmutzig' (Fast & Dirty) exhibition at the Kreuzberg Markthalle, with Aurelie and Pascal, my two new French friends from my class. We have to speak German together, so we have the conversational nuance of a 4 year old's birthday party, but we have fun.

Speaking of bad art, I'll get better at drawing you soon Conor, I promise.

Unfortunately we still can't figure out how to work our control panel. Mum, how are the spring (hardy wool clothing) sales over there?

A joy, this dinner was. A real joy.

Mahalia came to stay. She was pipped at the 'Best Guest' post by Sam's dad. But only because he's family.

Thanks Will and Tom, breakfast sure was delicious!

This party sure seemed to be sponsored by The North Face. Or it could be that Germans know how to dress for the weather conditions.

We ate eventually. Sorry Sam.

Herbst. That's autumn to English speakers.

Last night I had to wear thermals in bed.
The slow slide into winter begins.

Odes to Common Things - Pablo Neruda

I have a crazy,
crazy love of things.
I like pliers,
and scissors.
I love
cups,
rings,
and bowls -
not to speak, or course,
of hats.
I love
all things,
not just
the grandest,
also
the
infinite-
ly
small -
thimbles,
spurs,
plates,
and flower vases.
Oh yes,
the planet
is sublime!
It's full of pipes
weaving
hand-held
through tobacco smoke,
and keys
and salt shakers -
everything,
I mean,
that is made
by the hand of man, every little thing:
shapely shoes,
and fabric,
and each new
bloodless birth
of gold,
eyeglasses
carpenter's nails,
brushes,
clocks, compasses,
coins, and the so-soft
softness of chairs.
Mankind has
built
oh so many
perfect
things!
Built them of wool
and of wood,
of glass and
of rope:
remarkable
tables,
ships, and stairways.
I love
all
things,
not because they are
passionate
or sweet-smelling
but because,
I don't know,
because
this ocean is yours,
and mine;
these buttons
and wheels
and little
forgotten
treasures,
fans upon
whose feathers
love has scattered
its blossoms
glasses, knives and
scissors -
all bear
the trace
of someone's fingers
on their handle or surface,
the trace of a distant hand
lost
in the depths of forgetfulness.
I pause in houses,
streets and
elevators
touching things,
identifying objects
that I secretly covet;
this one because it rings,
that one because
it's as soft
as the softness of a woman's hip,
that one there for its deep-sea color,
and that one for its velvet feel.
O irrevocable
river
of things:
no one can say
that I loved
only
fish,
or the plants of the jungle and the field,
that I loved
only
those things that leap and climb, desire, and survive.
It's not true:
many things conspired
to tell me the whole story.
Not only did they touch me,
or my hand touched them:
they were
so close
that they were a part
of my being,
they were so alive with me
that they lived half my life
and will die half my death.

(Translated from Spanish)