Spreadsheets, Fairy Wings and Progressives

After months of largely cloudy weather and subzero temperatures, we've had a few glimpses of sunshine. Today it was warm enough, at around 6°C when I checked my phone, that the snow caps on parked cars have melted away. A wave of days up to over 10°C is impending. So I've felt encouraged to bed out the sprouted flower bulbs from our pantry in plastic pots with fresh soil, and put them into my south-facing window.

I've had my first week of the holiday career preparation course, which will largely be about Excel. Since I use spreadsheets and calendars a lot e.g. to track how expensive groceries are at different times of year, and want to round out the knowledge of spreadsheets from my last job for my c.v., it is interesting and rewarding. That said, I still feel battered from the semester itself, as well as the job search, budgeting, and the weight of international politics. The room where the Excel classes take place is also a little stifling, although the instructor airs it during the 15-minute break half-way through the 3.5 hour class. So perhaps it's not surprising that Tuesday through Thursday I routinely developed a migraine headache after the first hour or so, trotting home in faintly nauseated misery in the equally airless U-Bahn — except during the minutes where I walked between stations to get fresh air and exercise, and felt marginally better.

In Germany's national news: Our Chancellor recently claimed that we Germans of working age have been picking up part-time work as a 'lifestyle,' depriving our Nation of the good ol' 40-hour week that we should invest instead (unless we are caretakers for children). Statistically I think that Germany's job productivity is fairly high if one compares other EU countries, but 'mine not to question why' our dear CDU has decided that the German economy needs to kill our work-life balance, rather than make a concerted effort to remove bureaucratic hurdles or attract foreign skilled workers. Anyway, it's still being debated. There was some equally charming critique with which our Chancellor was trying to drill the delinquent German workforce into renewed Prussian virtue, but I've forgotten it.

The CDU is generally full of ideas lately. Their pension reform I haven't read about in detail, although the pitched battles between the CDU party proper and the CDU party youth organization sound dramatic.

The happiest development, at the same CDU party conference where these issues are being hashed out,  was that Angela Merkel appeared for the first time since she stopped being Chancellor. My cold, pessimistic soul thawed a little when the Tagesschau showed her in the hall.

I'm wondering when the tide in Germany will turn in the direction of Spain's recent pragmatic acceptance when it comes to immigration. Given that the CDU has just decided (in the first days of the holy month of Ramadan) that they want to ban full-body veils, which I suspect are worn by such an infinitesimal percentage of Germany's population that this ban is even more of a mere racist dog-whistle than it would otherwise be, I'm guessing it will not turn yet.

And Merz's oscillation between firm criticism of wilder trans-Atlantic policy announcements, and wide-eyed Peter Pan insistence that the US federal government will grow fairy wings again if we clap our hands and believe, is also making me dizzy. To be fair, judging by the two dignitaries from Germany's business community who commented in the Tagesschau news on US tariffs today, he's not the only one oscillating in that fashion.

*

Anyway, I become especially dogged, cynical and resentful about politics if I don't make little positive changes where possible, so I've been trying to nudge ahead my Detrumpification programme.

A main part is tech independence. A former colleague posted a website that lists online services based in the European Union that can be counterparts to US products. Disenchanted with Google's leadership and not eager to send my data into the claws of the Mar a Lago regime, I've been trying out the French video platform Dailymotion instead of YouTube. So far, the content seems to be different, so a 1:1 comparison is impossible. But news organizations like Deutsche Welle do upload worthwhile reports and I am sure there is more to explore. Dailymotion's videos also offer an 'eco' setting, which is even easier than checking for low-resolution 144 or 240 pixel settings; I usually do that so that I don't waste resources streaming high-resolution video that I don't need. ... Aside from video platforms: If I can figure out how the coding works, I'm planning to migrate my Wordpress blogging to Typo3.

In terms of other aspects of my programme, I've also found that Ms. Magazine's website is a motherlode of leftwing intellectual property. Almost every line of every article would probably make the current administration cringe, so I've been reading the articles regularly.

I also visit other US websites because they are doing good work: e.g. the New York Times, the New Yorker, and (admittedly) the YouTube presence of PBS NewsHour. The Late Show with Stephen Colbert, The Daily Show, and Jimmy Kimmel too, but late night comedy feels more like a Job's comfort than the press's reporting, and — despite their fact-checking — I think the shows' writers do get a few details wrong.

Besides I watched the recent livestream of Congresswoman Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez's discussion at the Technical University here in Berlin. It was interesting — revealing, too, about German politics, even if Germany wasn't the focus. For what it's worth, I didn't watch video of AOC's panel from the World Economic Forum so I can't speak to how she 'did' there in terms of expertly answering foreign policy questions. Regardless, I've considered her clever and quick on her feet ever since she was first elected to Congress. And her point, made in Berlin, was valid: it is more important to discuss progressive politics in general, also as a way to expound future alternatives to the 47th President, than to speculate if she wants to be a progressive presidential candidate in particular.... Also, I was amused as the university president and the former Mayor of Berlin giggled their way through their introductory speeches — dedicated AOC fans.

My campaign to read Canadian books to support Canada's economy is progressing. I'm reading an audiobook memoir and a contemporary fiction ebook. As both books have a depressing subject matter, I'd say that watching episodes of the comedy show This Hour Has 22 Minutes (especially the one where the production travelled to Greenland and interviewed Greenlandic parliamentarians, the mayor of Nuuk, and other citizens) has been the happier choice.

*

Lastly, not related to Detrumpification, but just to mention Berlin news: this evening the Berlinale film festival ended. I watched livestreams of film press conferences, but didn't take any photos this year.

In other news, the escalators at Berlin's main train station are operational again!

Between the Scylla of the Semester and the Charybdis of the Holiday Course

The second-last week before the holidays is winding down:

Monday's Spanish class was online due to the BVG city transit strike and the icy conditions on the sidewalks. It really was quite dangerous until snow fell in the early morning hours on Wednesday, and laid a layer of soft powder over the ossified ice.

Tuesday we discussed El celoso extremeño by Miguel de Cervantes in the Spanish literature seminar. The subject matter — people exploiting power differentials to oppress women — was not very edifying (even if it was timely). Besides I like Cervantes's arch humour better when it's used on different topics, which sounds a bit worldly and learned so I should mention at once that I never finished reading Don Quijote.

Then, Wednesday, the Spanish class held a debate. Our topic: tourism in Berlin. The discussion ended up delving into the problems or advantages of AirBnBs, whether we should be attracting wealthy tourists or not, the responsibilities of local government and of tourists, and lastly the historical and sociopolitical importance of having people visit Berlin and understand what really happened especially in the 20th century.

Besides I found out that I received a 2,7 mark for my second Spanish essay. — That's not excellent, but it is a relief considering that I felt I was 'getting too big for my britches' after getting a 1,0 on the last assignment. It was awkward when I received the feedback sheet, however... I'd gotten top marks ... except that it was a classmate's sheet that the professor had given me by accident! So a classmate knows that I had a far worse mark than he did, my brief optimism withered, and the professor apologized to him but not also to me for the mix-up! Anyway, the mark should not have been high. Finishing writing the essay in the early morning hours, not proofreading it after a good night's sleep, and disabling spell check on my word processing app had led to spectacular grammatical and orthographical errors.

The essay's topic was cheerful, at least. I wrote about the economic effects of immigration.. and I started off my essay by mentioning the news that the Spanish government intends to 'legalize' around 500,000 undocumented migrants.

In the afternoon, in a different class, we discussed an early 20th-century Ukrainian novel, a Bildungsroman, which I prefer to forget about although the class itself was nice.

Today I had an online Greek grammar class. We struggled with when to use the present, imperfect, aorist, or pluperfect, in the subjunctive mood. The English equivalent would be e.g. 'If he had found a telephone, he would have reported his car breakdown.'

*

I haven't had luck with the job search yet. Most recently, I sent off one application to a conversation research study that offered a chance to win a gift certificate, and another application to a law firm that needs help in their office. I'm also wondering whether to try to earn small sums here and there by writing, an idea that I'm sure will inspire a hollow laugh in many a person who has tried to do the same on a larger and more serious scale.

That said, I'd kind of prefer to dive into irresponsibility and have lots of time for journalistic outings. Finally visit the Danish embassy to write a piece about its cultural offerings and the contrast to the geopolitical storms surrounding it. Contact Canadian filmmakers who will be at the Berlinale film festival in order to write up their work. Attend a political protest again. Watch local winter sports and gain a little background knowledge instead of feeding the capitalist monster of the Olympics. Find out more about the Washington Post staff who were laid off in the Berlin bureau. Etc. Unfortunately, I don't think it's looking practical right now due to university commitments — not just the last tasks for this semester, but also the 'Allgemeine Berufsvorbereitung' technology course that I will take into mid-March.

In the meantime, I'm trying to lose some of my anxiety about life by revisiting TV shows about life in the 1950s, 'unplugging' to read print media, and doing more housework. Having already watched the Fifties episodes of Back in Time for the Weekend and Back in Time for Dinner, I've moved on to "The Supersizers Eat... The 1950s". Today I cooked a celery, carrot, turnip, onion and chicken soup from a 1900 recipe, as well as green peas, and baked a jam-carrot sponge with apricot jam for dessert. And, less thrillingly, I cleaned one of our bathroom sinks with baking soda, citric acid, hot water and a little muscle-power; took care of personal accounting tasks; and handwashed a load of dishes...

The pension fund windfall I'm expecting didn't arrive in January and I may be in a sticky situation in a year. But I think the worst part is just not having had a mini-job or part-time job since September; it is cracking my sense of self-sufficient independence. This might also not be so bad, however, if I weren't still uselessly self-flagellating about 'failing' at my previous full-time job.

Fortunately, brother Ge. lent his services to one of our aunts for a technical problem recently ... and she sent him chocolate truffles as a thank-you, and he shared the chocolate with us today! 

Ice in Berlin and Chaos Abroad

It has snowed again, after freezing rain, so after eschewing my bicycle and taking the U-Bahn to university, I walked between two stations on the way home to look at the scenery today.

On the streets and sidewalks, the weather brought us compacted ice, a sprinkling of snow rather like powdered sugar (footprints and tire treads stenciled out of it), and crushed gravel sprayed by the diligent snowplows of the Berliner Stadtreinigung and others. Around the bodies of cars, fringes of icicles were hanging. And where trees and bushes were not gloved in ice, they were frosted white.

I looked at paw-prints of dogs in the snow as I walked parallel to the U-Bahn tracks in Dahlem, and the glowing rose hips and red hawthorn berries in the hedges, the male hazel catkins with dark glossy blots where ice had settled. Two Nordic walkers energetically approached, but the rest of us who didn't wield pointy sticks were a little more careful.

Of course the stairs into the U-Bahn were gritty and splotched brown with the crushed gravel that we were tracking in.

I'VE BEEN a bit psychologically hung over from the weekend, since Saturday was unusually busy and besides my sleep pattern has been disrupted by e.g. a funny burning smell in our apartment keeping me awake past 5 a.m. one day. But part of the activity on Saturday was lunch in Prenzlauer Berg, in good company. To go into too much detail about the more trivial part: French toast served with finely chopped pineapple, kiwi and strawberry slices, halved grapes, lashings of maple syrup, and whipping cream (all of it reminiscent of the summer weather that is currently far, far away). For my drink I had fresh ginger tea with mint leaves and a fragment of orange. And afterward, in a small family evening get-together, we commemorated Papa with music and conversation and food; he would have turned 73 the week before last.

Due to the 'hangover,' I've already skipped two university classes this week. That said, the marks on my Spanish class presentation came in, and the professor was so impressed that he gave me a 1,0. Not very well deserved, perhaps, but it's comforting for academic and professional reasons to edge closer to the official B2 European language level in Spanish.

RETURNING to the café meal: In my budget, there is less room for discretionary spending. At a guess I still power through some €1250 per month, however. Of course the rent that I pay my mother is not extortionate (not to mention that my siblings and mother have repeatedly urged me to decrease the payments), and the biggest other expenditure is health insurance. So some of the rest still goes to fun stuff, like French toast. But I recently received good news: a private pension fund, into which my employer paid for two years, has been dissolved. So I am expecting a windfall of around €2500 after taxes etc.

On the job front, I've been offering myself as a tutor (partly because I've liked instilling knowledge, partly also because I really want to mother-hen somebody again). I also applied to be a participant a.k.a. guinea pig in a medical study. The second possibility has withered a little: when I'd filled out the screening form, they replied saying that my migraines rendered me ineligible.

AS FOR LESS personal events, the news has been despicable.

Firstly, I'm not too keen on the EU Commission's pursuit of new free trade agreements with South America and India as a way out of our dependence on the whims of the Queens real estate magnate in the White House: surely we have learned that free trade needs to be approached carefully. If I understand correctly, one long-term effect of past agreements like NAFTA seems to have been collapsing industries that help keep rural areas or specific towns economically and socially thriving, thereby fuelling populism and unlivable hardship in those areas. Being locked in Faustian bargains with the Mileis and Modis of this world also does not seem much better than being locked in Faustian bargains with the Trumps of this world. But so far those concerns also pale in comparison to the bloodshed in Minneapolis.

As for the recent World Economic Forum in Davos, I was (like many others) especially happy about Prime Minister Mark Carney's speech. Specifically I liked that he acknowledged that international law has not been followed consistently in the past, but embraced the idea of 'middle powers' cooperating with each other, all while quoting Thucydides and displaying considerable backbone. But Chancellor Friedrich Merz's speech was worrying. Merz should have pointed out that the 'brutal new reality' that he describes in world affairs goes against the laws and best practices that Germany is obligated to defend, given the lessons of its own Fascist history. Instead, as far as I could tell, he suggested hopping on the bandwagon, although with an eye to extracting advantages for the EU. Similarly I think that NATO's head Mark Rutte is taking a page out of Trump's amoral book by negotiating over Greenland and Denmark's heads.

If indeed US and EU security experts, as the New York Times reported, agree that Russia and China seem to have little interest in Greenland at present, Merz's suggestion at Davos that Russia is the main threat was also especially toadying and embarrassing. As for the other speakers, I didn't bother watching Trump's speech. Much though I liked aspects of France's president Macron's speech, I felt that like Ukraine's president Zelensky's speech, it represented a descent into a Trumpian style of airing everything that pops into one's head.

Returning to the aforementioned Chancellor, I was reasonably happy with Angela Merkel as chancellor, though rarely ecstatic. I'm also trying to give Merz the benefit of the doubt because the role of chancellor is so demanding, and I'm sure he's trying. But, as a happily irresponsible member of the peanut gallery, I'll just frankly divulge did not expect her successor to fall as short in terms of percipience, charm, and moral stature, as he has.

That said, Davos offered one comfort. Last year I stopped watching any videos from the Forum because the pro-Trump paeans from roundtable discussion moderators etc. were nauseating. It also wasn't surprising to me to read from the point of view a New York Times reporter who has been to Davos repeatedly, that the Forum has lost any genuine desire for sustainable policy and business practices that it once pursued. Instead it has dedicated itself to empty "virtue signalling" (once signalling DEI and climate change reduction, and now signalling more Trumpian 'virtues'). But this year at least there was some intellectual friction.

INSPIRED mostly by the not-at-all-unhinged situation around Greenland, I've been taking notes on how to put together an emergency kit:

I've gotten as far as putting 1.5 L (per the Red Cross it should be 1 gallon) of water in my room. Next up: putting together a supply of survival food, Item #2 on a 31-item list. As I told my brother Ge., at least I haven't gone so far as to consider iodine tablets or a Geiger counter... These paranoid preparations, which I'd admittedly scoff at any other time, should be useful in case someone decides to sabotage parts of Berlin's electrical supply again, too.

And once the university semester is over — 2 or 3 weeks of classes, 2 essays, and 1 class presentation are left before mid-February — maybe I will finally take that First Aid course...

In the meantime I've signed up for another food-sorting shift at the same Berlin charity whose challenging field of work inspired me to write the whiny descriptions of rotten carrots etc. over the summer. The shift should take place next weekend.

The Ominous First Ten Days of 2026

New Year's Eve was much calmer this year in Berlin, so if the U.S. government hadn't decided to invade Venezuela a few days later it would have been a quiet transition into 2026. Even the New Year's concert of the Vienna Philharmonic was, I thought, a pleasing balance between the traditional, modern, and absurd; if the Canadian conductor was a little obsessed with his own presence at the event, I still thought he wove his knowledge of late 19th century French impressionist composers into Strauss and his contemporaries in a way that gave the first half of the concert different nuances. (In the second half I felt he ran out of steam, especially after the Egyptian March.) I liked the first ballet performance a lot, too: elegant dancers pretended to emerge from a diplomatic vehicle, and pranced around a Viennese building in pastel-coloured pantsuits. It felt like a fantasy of a world order where diplomacy isn't Steve Witkoff grinning shyly across a Kremlin table at Vladimir Putin, alongside a poker-faced Jared Kushner.

But as it was, on January 3rd I cycled to a demonstration against the Venezuela intervention, which had been registered with Berlin's police earlier that day. It was an adventurous ride: for the first two minutes it felt like the snowflakes were lacerating my eyeballs, and even after the snowfall lessened, my tires slipped and skidded on the bicycle paths. A few beleaguered bicycle deliverymen were undertaking the same route. Then I decided to switch into the car lanes, after walking partway along the sidewalks while pushing my bicycle, and somehow I arrived in one piece at Brandenburg Gate, beside the U.S. Embassy. A crowd had gathered and police officers were surveilling a line of security fences, set up on two sides of the mass of people, designed to protect the Embassy. I was undecided at first to be part of the protest as a private citizen or whether report as an observer, but since a lot of agendas were mixing in the crowd, I eventually decided for the second. It seemed to me that most of the protestors were German-speaking, and belonged to a coalition of far-left and communist groups. I counted well over 100 people— a police officer told me he'd estimate about 250 — and I felt it was a decent turnout, especially given the short notice.

A massive power outage happened on the same day due to sabotage. It wasn't in my part of Berlin, so I have no firsthand experience to report except that — unlike some politicians and part of the press — I am not particularly scandalized that the city's mayor popped out for an hour of tennis practice on the first day. I will say that in general the U-Bahn seemed less crowded, but that might be because of the parlous state of Berlin's icy sidewalks for the past week.

My youngest brother shared with me an apt meme adapted from Hergé's comics: Captain Haddock sits, exhausted, at a bar while Snowy eyes his glass of whiskey, and exclaims "What a year, huh?" Tintin replies, "Captain, it's January 3rd."

I've been wondering from time to time what to do if Canada is invaded. For some reason my paternal grandfather pops into my head as the person whom I'd ask, if he hadn't died twenty years ago. He of course served on the wrong side in World War II. I feel that he would frown on any idea of fixing the problem by taking up arms myself, but would approve my general tendency to want to get a sound training in First Aid, if not a paramedic's training, and put that training to use. Especially after seeing what home care aides go through, I figure that providing health care is harrowing and psychologically risky enough to count as a dedicated service.

The university semester is picking up speed again. I skipped two classes last week, and two classes were cancelled, so I had one in-person class and three online classes. For Wednesday I need to prepare a presentation in Spanish, which is leading to the usual low-level classroom stress. It will be about the effects of migration on children.

Bookworming in the Last Week of December

This morning one of my brothers went out to fetch the usual Saturday breakfast of croissants and a baguette, telling us after he returned that the pavement had been slippery with black ice. Our mother had also observed pedestrians from the window taking tiny careful steps as they navigated the streets. Yesterday evening I'd heard the whooshing of a Berliner Stadtreinigung snowplow on the larger street, but wasn't sure if the side streets and sidewalks had been sprinkled with salt or crushed gravel this time.

Last evening we had stove-related excitement again, as a while after I'd laid three more coals on the fire in one of our tile stoves, I smelled a 'hot iron' scent. I nervously checked the fire a few times but it seemed all right. Then some minutes later Ge. checked the stove and felt even more nervous, deciding to evacuate most of the coals. Based on the fierce heat that radiated from many of the tiles even for hours afterward, the whooshing draughts, the dry and frosty weather, and Ge.'s googling, we surmised that the draught must have been too strong and the fire too bright, so that old deposits of creosote may have started smouldering in the hidden upper niches of the stove. The piping hot tiles were a comfort insofar as we concluded that whatever deposits were there were hopefully still burning off so that they would stop being dangerous. Overnight we let the stove cool entirely, then in the morning restarted it.

I've been devoting most of my time to 'self-care': an hour of ballet and yoga yesterday, and a lot of reading. Short stories by contemporary Italian writers translated into German, an old romance novel by Mary Burchell translated into Portuguese, news from the New York Times and on the websites of Rundfunk Berlin Brandenburg and Tagesschau, and an even older romance novel from the early 1900s that was set amongst tourists in the Netherlands. The Dutch setting, and my Wikipedia searches for locations, were surprisingly relevant to my one university-homework-related enterprise: reading about 17th-century philosophy to figure out what an Enlightened man looks like. I finished the Spinoza chapter in A History of Western Philosophy, and have now hopped over to a biography from the 1960s published by the German house Rowohlt. Spinoza grew up as the son of Jewish parents who had escaped the Inquisition from Spain via Portugal to the Netherlands, and while much of the Jewish quarter of Amsterdam was razed during the Nazi occupation, two 17th-century synagogues, a church, and at least one stately house remain.

In turn, the history of 17th-century Amsterdam ties into late 16th-century trade, which is relevant to the Tudor era Beauty-and-the-Beast story that I'm trying to write again. The challenge I'm facing right now is the 'world building,' which is necessary if I want to write an interesting take rather than a thoroughly effete fan fiction. So, taking techniques from my university courses, I've been reading a long and rambling Elizabethan work by Sir Philip Sidney and taking notes on many of the 'topoi' (e.g. sheep: shepherds, lambs, piping, ...) I come across in it, to research Elizabethan Britain. It's startling how much in the English language has not changed over time, for example the colloquialism 'busy as a bee'; and Sidney uses a rich emotional vocabulary, ranging from depression to envy, which feels startlingly New Age.

I've been thinking of making the Beast a Spanish person who is hiding in England during the Armada. First of all, the challenge of being able to see an 'enemy' as a fellow human being is, I think, a very contemporary topic. As the granddaughter of Germany's fascist generation it's always boggled my mind how after World War II there seemed to be a wild range of reactions e.g. amongst American or British veterans toward Germans, ranging from the famous 'Little Vittles' operation (distributing chocolate and raisins to Berlin's children) to the opposite, and I think some of the same challenges are arising for example between Ukrainians and Russians. Secondly I seem to remember that the original French tale emphasized that the Beast didn't even have esprit (wittiness) to recommend himself. I think that the original tale was pressuring women to go along with arranged marriages, even if they are not attracted to their future husbands; so not all aspects of the source material are ones that I'm willing to pursue. But what I'm willing to pick up is the fear of seeming stupid — and few of us can help feeling stupid when trying to express ourselves in a second language, for example, so creating language differences between the protagonists will bring out that dimension. Thirdly, being an enemy of the state would explain why the Beast would need to live in secrecy. Lastly, the Spanish angle will let me weave in literature and history that I'm studying... That said, a lot of difficulties remain. A central problem with that era and its trade is, of course, the birth of colonialism; and it would be silly to write a story about e.g. a nice cozy winter spent at the fireside, if the more salient and less threadbare backstory is that one logged and stole the neighbour's forest for fuel.

Whenever I feel weltschmerzy and guilty, I've been reducing my carbon footprint by deleting old Twitter news digest emails from five years ago. It's disconcerting how much the world has changed since then, and how optimistic it was from my lefty point of view. For example, debates about weaponry that emerged in the German national news often referred to the ethics of exporting German-manufactured arms to countries that don't respect human rights. Xenophobic sentiment was attributed to and espoused by an extreme fringe, instead of a mainstream. And a gay rights activist who supports trans rights claimed, after she spoke out about a political debate, that 'J.K. Rowling never disappoints' ...

In the meantime, we still have a lot of uneaten Christmas gingerbread and chocolate and marzipan in our pantry. The revelry goes on!

Christmas Morning, 2025

Christmas Day is bright and clear, at the expense of the temperature: it was already -7°C yesterday evening, and it hasn't become any warmer. Car traffic is sparse, but more audible now, although one can hear the church bells well despite the layer of sound.

The youngest brothers, my mother and I have had breakfast: bread rolls with or without raisins, cheese, cold cuts, with tea and coffee. We have also started on our Christmas plates: Spekulatius, chocolate-coated gingerbread hearts filled with jam, Nürnberger Lebkuchen, fondant stars and shapes, sugar-speckled jelly shapes, Marzipankartoffeln, Pfeffernüsse, and satsuma oranges. Aside from the poinsettia-patterned tablecloth that my father's mother gave us in the 1990s, we also lighted tapered candles and tea lights. Then we sang two Christmas carols in the living room, beside the tree, which J. decorated yesterday evening.

Early this afternoon, a neighbour rang our doorbell to pick up a parcel, and we've been mildly busy on social media; but aside from that we've had little contact with the outside world.

I've been reading a book and thinking about whether I really feel like going outside again.

At midnight I'd had a little excursion to take photographs and out of sheer curiosity about who is still up and about at 11:59 p.m. at Christmas Eve in our neighbourhood. Frost was forming on the windowpanes and roofs of cars, Christmas lights twinkling sparsely from the apartment blocks, pedestrians were far and few between, but quite a few windows were alight. And at Nollendorfplatz, as always, the fluorescent bands of rainbow colour were glowing on the cupola of the U-Bahn station.