Silver donkey OK

IF Y'ALL were wondering what I was blithering about earlier, it was mostly about my friend Belinda's poorly doggie Albert, who had an operation to remove a lump on his side last week and has been confined to his basket in sheer misery ever since.
Albert is nearly 15 years old, with fur the colour of a frosty morn. He looks like a little silver donkey with sad, sad eyes. He is so old he is almost deaf and never knows I'm there unles I put my hand down.
Yesterday he was so sick he was bundled up in a doggiecoat looking forlorn and cold ~ despite temperatures of 28C. Belinda said he's going to have to go under the knife again.
Today he looks much better. He won't be having an operation. Belinda says he looks so weary because he is stoned on all the painkillers and pills the vets gave him. Poor swine. I think he is going to be OK.

Flapper the wood pigeon is having a torrid affair! Yes! Off he flapped to the luxury high-gain aerial on the next road where he is to be seen cooing with a lady woodpigeon.
In the German version, by the way, I made a terrible mistake and said Flapper is perched up on a TV antenna with a deaf lady!
In mitigation may I point out that the German word for pigeon or dove is die Taube, while deaf is taub, so when I talk of a Taube-Frau, hoping this means a lady pigeon, I am evoking in the minds of anyone from Bremen to Berlin to Berne the image of a pigeon savagely kidnapping a disabled lady who is hanging off this pylon in sheer terror. Probably as Flapper viciously pecks at her fingertips.

The only other news is that temperatures have hit 28C and we are threatened with a weekend heatwave of 32 ~ that's 90F. The Greek lady at the druggieservice, who is from Athens. (When there is a severe heatwave in Europe it's nearly always worst in Athens. Temperatures can pass 50C/120F). She pointed out how much more oppressive is the sweltering British summer. It's nasty nasty nasty. I'm sweating like a swine.

Now here's a tune for y'all to try squawking out in the shower. I had a go and I sounded like a wicked witch having a haemorrhoidectomy without anaesthesia:

MOONFALL from The Mystery of Edwin Drood
Here's the Streisand version:

Die Nachrichten

HIER SIND DIE NACHRICHTEN VON GLEDWOOD
Ich weiß, ich sollte einen besonderen Deutschen Blog anfangen... ja ich weiß. Aber im Augenblick blogge ich noch hier.

Der Hund meiner Freundin Belinda, der Alfred heißt ist krank! Letzte Woche wurde er operiert. Er liegt im Korb und sieht sehr öde aus. Nie habe ich ein so armer Hund gesehen. Er ist so ältlich, er sieht wie ein kleiner silbergrauen Esel aus. Sein Augen sind so elend. Heute war Alfred noch im Korb. Er trug eine kleine Hundenjacke und bewegte sich nicht. Er sah kalt aus ~ während das Temperatur 30 Grad erreichte. Er ist so alt, er konnte mich nicht hören, und er wußte nicht, dass ich dort war. Ich denke es tut ihn zu viel weh, den Schwanz zu schütteln. Belinda sagt er muss wieder zum Tierartz ~ noch mehr Chirurgie. Ich hoffe, er wird OK.

Wie ich gesagen habe, ist es hier so heiß! Heute war es schwitzender feucht. Ich fühlte, als ob ich bekleidet in der Dusche gegangen war! Sehr unangenehm. Das BBC warnt vor einer Hitzewelle mit 32 Grad oder noch höher. Ich hoffe ich werde nicht zum Tod schwitzen. Dieses Transpirationsproblem ist nur nach Heroin gekommen. Bevor meiner Rauschgiftsucht liebte ich den Sommer. Nun wurde ich lieber das ganzes Jahr in Winter leben. Das Dunkel befördere ich zur Hitze.

Die Vogel in meiner Strasse zirpen noch laut. Wir haben viele Spatzen. Sie piepsen ganz unmelodisch den ganzen Tag lang. Flapper, die Ringeltaube hat verschwunden! Ich ahne, er hat eine Affäre mit einer Ringeltaube-Frau, die in der nächste Strasse auf einer neuen Luxus-Antenne gurrt. Vielleicht gibt es da Platz für zwei...

Ich muss jetzt gehen. Es ist schon Mitternacht, und das Temperatur ist noch 19 Grad! Ich schwitze noch wie ein Schwein. Ich hoffe, ich werde schlafen können ohne ertrinken!

Hot, exhausted day

IT WAS 28 DEGREES CENTIGRADE TODAY. For London this is hot. I'm sweating like a swine. It's ten minutes to ten at night and only just getting dark. High summertime!

I'M STILL EXHAUSTED. I slept nearly all night; then what do I do but spend half the day asleep from sheer exhaustion too!

I wish I had something interesting to post. Not really. Flapper the wood pigeon appears to have upped and left. I think he is having an affair.

My friend's dog, who is so elderly he looks like a little silver-grey donkey, has had an operation. Every time I see him he's in his basket with the most forlorn expession on his face. I have never seen a doggie look so sad. I think he is in pain. I hope he's OK.

I heard a radio feature today called Home Thoughts from Abroad, where the BBC take London-based correspondents from the foreign press and give them open mike to hold forth on any aspect of life in the UK that interests them. Today's broadcast, by die Zeit journalist John F Jungclaussen basically outlines the reasons why I want out of Britain. That we are becoming ever increasingly authoritarian and less and less free.

If you want to hear it you can listen online (from anywhere worldwide), click here.

Deutsche-in-London.net review of programme.

Keywords/Schlüsselwörter: exhausted verbraucht; sheer exhaustion absolut Erschöpfung; wood pigeon Ringeltaube; to appear erscheinen; to up and leave abhauen; elderly ältlich; donkey der Esel; basket der Korb; forlorn öde; expression der Ausdruck; hold forth sich über etwas auslassen; broadcast Sendung; authoritarian autoritär

Was Gledwood zunächst tat/What Gledwood did next

FOR ENGLISH, SEE UNDERNEATH:

Heute schlief ich fast den ganzen Tag lang. Ich wachte nach 16.00 Uhr.

Zuerst musste ich zur Apotheke, um mein Methadon abzuholen.

Dann ging ich in den Supermarkt, und kaufte eine Pizza. Sie war sehr frisch und nett.

Am Bahnhof, hörte ich das Zirpen noch einanderer Nachtigall!

Sie klang genau wie eine Spieldose.

Flapper saß noch auf der Fernsehantenne des Nachbars.

Ich denke, sie liebt das Digitalfernsehen über alles. Das hat ihr so vielen Luxus-Barsche gegeben!


I slept nearly all day today, waking up after four in the afternoon. First I had to go to the chemist's to pick up my methadone. Then I went in the supermarket and bought a pizza. It was really fresh and nice. At the railway station I heard yet another nightingale chirping! It sounded just like a music-box. Flapper was still on the neighbours' TV aerial. I think he loves digital television more than anything. It has given him so many luxury new perches!


Blogpost of the day: Caving, Philippines-style!

Gledwoods Vogelein

HIER ist mein besonderer deutschsprachiger Artikel über den kleinen Vogel in meiner Straße.
Dieses Jahr, scheint es mehr Vogelarten als je zuvor zu geben, die von den Bäume und Dachern zwitschern.
Vor zwei wochen zeigte sich eine Ringeltaube, die auf der Fernsehantenne meines Nachbars sitzt.
Ringeltauben sind eher flatterhaft und schüchtern.
Sie gurrt und gurrt praktisch der ganzer Tag. Ich ahnte, dass sie in mir verknallte sich. Jedesmal wenn ich die Haustür öfnete, oder die Straße entlang trabte ~ da war sie! Hinter der Mülltonne meines Nachbars, hinter dem Kirschenbaum... immer hinter etwas. Sie tat, als ob sie im Gras pickte; dann sah sie ganz erschüttert aus. Sie klappte die Flügeln und auf dem Dach verschwand. Deshalb nannte ich sie "Flapper".
Letzte Woche fand Flapper noch einandere Ringeltaube. Sie sitzen einander gegenüber und girren den ganzen Tag lang.
Mein anderer Lieblingsvogel ist eine Nachtigall, die Chogstable oder Chogga heißt.
Ich nannte sie Chogga nach ihrem Lied, das geht:
twit twit twit
jug jug
mit vielen komplizierten Triller darin.
Als ich das Thema googlete, fand ich, dass die Nachtigall in England überwintert, und dann im Sommer nach West- und Zentralafrika fliegt.
Sie seht sehr unwichtig aus ~ ganz klein und braun. Aber ihr Lied ist eine der schönster aller Vogellieder.
Chogga lebt oben im Kirschenbaum neben meinem Haus, darin Flapper auch saß, bevor sie ihren Partner fand.
Im Winter sah ich Chogga im Gebüsch meines Nachbars. Heutzutage sehe ich sie nicht. Aber ich höre sie laut und klar!
Die ganze Nacht, und fast den ganzen Tag lang zirpt sie ihr tranzendent melodische Lied, und ich fühle, als ob ich von einem romantischen Gedicht träume!


J W VON GOETHE

WANDRERS NACHTLIED II

Über allen Gipfeln
Ist Ruh,
In allen Wipfeln
Spürest du
Kaum einen Hauch;

Die Vögelein schweigen im Walde.
Warte nur, balde
Ruhest du auch.



LINKS ÜBER ZWEISPRACHIGKEIT
Bilingual myths: http://www.nethelp.no/cindy/myth.html
Bilingual Confusion blog: http://bilingualconfusion.blogspot.com/
Multilingualism (Wikipedia; English): http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Multilingualism
Bilingualismus (Wikipedia; Deutsch): http://de.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bilingualismus
Languages of Belgium (Wikipedia; English): http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Languages_of_Belgium
Situation linguistique de la Belgique (Wikipedia; French): http://fr.wikipedia.org/wiki/Situation_linguistique_de_la_Belgique
Languages of Switzerland (Wikipedia; English): http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Languages_of_Switzerland
Sprachen in der Schweiz (Wikipedia; German): http://de.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sprachen_in_der_Schweiz
Langues en Suisse (Wikipedia; Francais): http://fr.wikipedia.org/wiki/Langues_en_Suisse
Code-switching (Wikipedia; English): http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Code-switching
Code-Switching (Wikipedia; Deutsch): http://de.wikipedia.org/wiki/Code-Switching

A flock of pigeons, Evil Mr Fox

Just a feathery fantasy. They aren't actually doing this. Just perching on opposite terraced roofs and aerials coo-coo-cooooooing unendingly!

YES, my pair of pigeons appears gradually to be forming a flock. I'm pretty sure we now have three if not four of the portly pigeons gathered on my road. No hot pigeon pash though. No paired-off coo-banter. It's like one of those 1950s dances: boys one side, girls the other. Nobody daring to be the first to hit the floor ...

Other points: here is a really good feel-good blog post.
Statistically X people love you in the world... x people rely on you... you are unique and valuable...



HORROR IN HACKNEY THIS SATURDAY!!

A not-so-fantastic Mr Fox ~ sneaked from a back garden, through French windows, into the dining room of a "posh £1,000,000 house" in innercity Hackney, North-East London, padded silently upstairs and savaged twin toddling little girls so badly they are still in hospital today covered in bites and lacerations to face and arms.

A "humane" fox-trapping cage, baited with food, placed by the fateful patio doors has already "retained" one furry suspect...

Police say the bushy-tailed reprobate is in custody of the RSPCA, waiting to be punished and killed.

Foxes are perhaps our British equivalent to North America's raccoons, though I would say they are considerably more wily and a little standoffish compared to those catfood-guzzling 'coons.

It is not at all unusual to see a slim red dog trotting down the middle of the road at 4am. Look twice and you realize this is no doggie, it's a fox!

Foxes are notorious for raiding farmers' chicken sheds, where instead of selecting one choice, tasty bird they slay every single one just to be sure ~ and make trips back and forth over and over to stash the dead hens where they hope other foxes won't gobble them down first.

The vulgar vixens also attack pet rabbits, cats, even small dogs. They rip open rubbish sacks, strewing the street with tin-cans which the rats then clamber into. Soon there is a wildlife jamboree with blackbirds, starlings (in season) blue tits, great tits, nut-hatches, greenfinches and even Flapper the wood pigeon and his kind fluttering down from neighbouring cherry trees for a peck-about.

Residents of Hackney say the usually reserved-but-bold critters are becoming increasingly daring. Sneaking into living rooms. Raiding kitchens. Nudging open refrigerators with pointy noses to emerge coleslaw-footprinted and yoghurty-nosed, garlanded with strings of chipolatas chomping on piri-piri roast chicken legs à la Attila the Hun.

OK slight word-painterly exaggeration but the gist is true. The neighbours said they're sneaking into houses all the time.

I hope those poor little girls are going to be OK. The red-furred robber apparently left the two girls' younger brother sleeping peacefully in his cot in the next room... Thank Heaven for small mercies..!

STOP PRESS: 7PM MONDAY one twin transferred to Great Ormond Street, specialist paediatric hospital this evening "for further treatment". Both girl's condition is said to be serious, but they're out of immediate danger.


Here's a good read:
There is no Hero in Heroin blog.
I've been reading about addiction "from the other side" quite a lot of late... An Addict in my Son's Bedroom, Mom vs Heroin, Hurting Parents: Addicted Son, Mom Trying to Detach with Love... and so on... searing stuff...


Re my promised Druggie Post, you'll have to wait till tomorrow, you'll surely be glad to learn :-)

PS the Cute Overload blog is good today ....

PPS: blog of the day ~ here's a good one. Tina B makes her own beads fired in funky glass... but how does she do it... and how does she sprechen such gutes Deutsch? I've no idea.... handmade-by-b-tina.blogspot.com

Coo!

FLAPPER THE WOOD PIGEON's persistent cooing has finally been rewarded. Yes, a new tubby cooer has appeared on our street! The two portly pigeons sit on opposite aerials cooing mindlessly at one another. Some mysterious love-dove courtship ritual appears to be underway as I've yet to see them perched together... (The photograph is courtesy of FlickRiver Nature Reserve: you can see some marvellous stuff there.) Full updates to come!

I'm writing one of my long druggie posts but it's not finished and I didn't want to post it today. So tomorrow, you know what not to read, haha!!

O bloody hell more cooing. I can hear it now. When will those two birdbrains shut up??!?

Stalked... by a Wood Pigeon!

I THINK FLAPPER the wood pigeon is stalking me. When I left the house early this afternoon, there he was right by the front door. Needless to say he flapped off with great commotion once he saw me.

Then, when I returned just now I had just passed the neighbour's bins and ~ huge a huge flappery occurred again. I nearly had a heart attack. But it was just Flapper, who had been pecking in the lawn taking flight to his second favourite TV aerial. (He prefers the luxury one that looks like a grill-rack on my side of the road.)

Up on the aerial he took to cooing incessantly. I don't know who he is cooing to, or what he is trying to say, but he appears to have an urgent message for somebody...

At first I wasn't sure whether there aren't in fact TWO pigeons on my street, but I'm pretty certain now that Flapper is one person. Perhaps he is cooing for a significant other. The only other wood pigeons I know peck around in the bushes by the public library. Someone should tell them Flapper is here before somebody gets fed up with his mindless cooing and shoots the bird-brain!

Flapper is back!

FEATHERY FRIDAY ON SATURDAY...

It started with a faint coo at 05:18 hours, when I thought I was dreaming. But he's definitely back. Yes! Flapper's back up the cherry-tree and has been advertising his presence with loud coo-cooing all morning!

Whatever he's been up to (and he really did disappear yesterday) I have no idea of knowing. But he's cooing away so much I'm sure he's trying to tell me...

Forget German... French... Double-Dutch. Perhaps I should be learning to speak Pigeon!