Happy Birthday Fafa

Fafa and Lahikmajoe

I’ve written plenty here about people who’re no longer with us. Luckily, this isn’t going to be one of those blogposts. This is the opposite. Someone who’s very much still with us.

Martha. Mom. Oma. Church Lady.

She’s been called many things…her brother couldn’t say Martha when he was little, so he called her Fafa. That might be my favourite one of her names. She really is a Fafa, after all.

What’s the occasion? Six months till Christmas? Well, yes. It is that.

On 25 June

In 253, Pope Cornelius was  beheaded at Centumcellae.  Is that what I’m all worked up about? Far from it. I never much cared for Pope Cornelius.

In 1530, at the Diet of Augsburg, the Augsburg Confession was presented to the Holy Roman Emperor by the Lutheran princes and the Electors of Germany. Could that be it? If you could see my figure, you’d immediately know I’m not much for diets…Diet of Augsburg or otherwise.

In 1910, the Mann Act was passed by the United States Congress, which prohibited interstate transport of females for “immoral purposes.” As Wikipedia tells us, ‘The ambiguous language would be used to selectively prosecute people for years to come.‘ I like this one. This makes me want to transport a female over state lines for immoral purposes. I think that’s what my father did with my mother all those years ago…the origin Lahikmajoe. Immoral purposes, indeed. But that’s not why I’m commemorating the 25th of June. Not by a long shot.

George Orwell was born on 25 June in 1903, and in addition to the death of  above-mentioned Pope Cornelius, there was that singer who died several years ago on this day.

None of that is as important as my reason for making such a big deal about this day.

It’s Fafa’s birthday. That lady I was talking about above. She’s been bewildered and confused at this blog when she’s come here.

It’s weird,’ she tole me once. That’s when I knew I was on to something. I could almost hear her saying:

Why do you talk about such things? Normal people blog about what they ate for breakfast. You’ve always been a bit off.

But that’s not what she said. She made mention of being proud and pleased that I was doing things in my life that I really loved. All those things that sound a certain way when you read about someone else saying them, but they mean so much more when it’s your mother saying them to you.

Thanks Fafa. You were a seasoned and wise lady long before your time.

great smile, eh?

fast food

Sometimes when I want to write about something, I search through stock photo websites for the perfect photo to go with my thoughts. Often, the visuals remind me of a photo I’ve taken, so then I go manically  through my library to see if I can use one of my own. It’s then that I realise there are so many little videos I’ve filmed over the years and never bothered sharing.

I’m pretty sure the one above is one I made for one of my corporate clients. The exercise is that you’re randomly given a topic and after a few minutes to collect your thoughts, you speak for a full minute about it. It can be a good opportunity to teach fluency, and often the more comical ones are when the person has absolutely nothing original to say about the topic.

Like me and fast food.

If you watch this short clip, it sounds like one of those book reports where the person hasn’t read the book. Or isn’t even entirely sure of anything about the book.

Animal Farm

‘Well, George Orwells seminal work on the plight of the farms where animals are raised and then tragically slaughtered. He takes you on a journey into the soul of the beasts that will one day soon be sitting atop the plate that is upon your table. And that’s why I can whole-heartedly recommend that you read Animal Farm. It’ll change the whole way you look at consumption and digestion, even.’

You get the idea. If it’s done well, you might know I didn’t read Animal Farm (actually I did, but it was the first example that came to mind) but still enjoy what themes and drama I create out of little, if any, actual details of the book.

So, this weekend I made a very half-hearted attempt at watching Game of Thrones on German television. It’s possible that I didn’t really know what was going on in the plot. But for posterity, as well as a sad attempt at humour, I made a running commentary on Storify while watching it.

[View the story “Calypso and The Station Agent” on Storify]

Say what you like, but I think I have a future in mangling plots. It’s a gift I have, don’t you think?