moet and milk

Yesterday I went out to the supermarket and came home with a bottle of Moet and a carton of milk. To be fair the milk came first ( I am a firm believer in calcium) and then I saw the pyramid of Moet  luring me over so I had to 'home' at least one of them. I figure this is ok because from here on in until the end of the year I probably won't see anybody I know since anybody I do know has escaped big ol' Basel for the new year. So at least I will be able to pour something nice over my breakfast cereal right!   Oh and the milk will be good with tea.

***

I don't think I'm even going to bother with some sort of reflection of the year. As far as I can tell it has been awful, it continues to be awful  and it's not suddenly going to be swell in two days time. All I can say though is please please please let the Arab mission to Syria work!!! Let the gift be healed. And let my favourite bead-maker find his joy.

Bretzel anyone

So I went and visited the Christmas Market in Colmar, France, a few days ago. Colmar is a pretty Alsatian town ( and sadly no  - it is not actually run by alsatians) which is about a forty-five minute train ride from Basel. I believe Colmar to be quite  shrewd because their Christmas Market remains open until December 31st instead of the usual before Christmas closing!! Surely such business acumen will lead to the resurrection of the entire European economy  if enough people buy buy buy.

Sadly for me I did not see much to buy buy buy.

I mean there were bretzels of course which should always be appreciated for their complicated knots.
 

 
And sweets too - if you like dried fruit and marzipan!

There was lots of other kitsch Christmas hoop-la too which can be admired from afar but should not be purchased at least not by me because kitsch things always have a way of finding their way into my heart and the do-not-bin pile. Quite cluttersome really.

Anyway my intentions were good but after I found no place serving fresh onion soup or tart I had to take myself home and make some myself.

The lady and the Lamp

So I  have always regarded myself as a bit of a bag-laydee and a proud one at that! Now it appears that I am a bit of a lamp-laydee too.

I mean obviously you are already familiar with crazy blue chandelier. 

There is also tree lamp.

Turtle lamp.

Lava lamp

And now I would like to introduce mushroom lamp. 

So on behalf of myself and all my lamps ( and bags) I would like to wish everyone a Merry Christmas, Happy Hannukah, Happy New Year etc!!!

Dangerous Damper

Tonight I sat by the open fire at the Munster with another friend of mine from Brazil and cooked bread on a long stick . It tasted just like damper. It was a little pericoloso because there were three little boys  each with their own long poker-stick-of-bread waving it about in the fire and my face. Their father actually walked away and left them to it. I am surprised there wasn't some sort of eye massacre. Anyway despite the perils it was actually rather lovely sitting there and halfway through snow began to fall from the sky and the whole place looked pretty and other-worldly.
I then came home and baked gingerbread cookies which tasted enormously better than last week's scones. Honestly those things were inedible!!!
I am pleased because I have had a story accepted for publication by http://www.rampantloon.com/ in their magazine Stupefying Stories. The editor said it was probably the fastest time in which he and the other editors have ever accepted a story. It must have only been about three hours which was a very nice experience for me. Often I send my stories out on lonesome cyber space journeys to find their home and I don't hear from them for ages if at all. I am hoping my other story which the editors at http://thecoloredlens.com/ loved will also be accepted some time soon as this would help me feel as if I was finding my way ( at least literature-ly) again.

A sad day

This week has not been good for my lieblingsstadt Florence. The senseless murder of two Senegalese  traders in Dalmazia Square has saddened me deeply. These traders are as much a part of Florence's rich fabric as its sculptures, its designers and its damp dark cobbled streets. A truly terrible thing.

Activities for 'one'

Today the shops were open in Basel. Woo Hoo. This is great because it means the centre of town is humming with activity instead of undergoing a short course of death which is its usual Sunday position. Of course tomato handbag and I decided we should go out and be a part of the hum for a couple of hours. It was either that or sort out my sock drawer.
I like taking tomato handbag out because she always attracts smiles from people and it is nice to see people smile instead of grimace. The downside of tomato handbag ( I know - almost unbelievable)  is that she is a spendaholic.
'Oooh look Joanna. See that dress it would go great with me, don't you think?'
'Ooh Joanna look at that jar of  tomato chutney -I think it's my brother. We have to give it a home now.'
'Ooh Joanna look at that lovely little purse shaped like a spaceman.  It will fit perfectly inside me.'
So yes I did come home with rather a lot of shopping. Three dresses in fact - two of them almost the same just different colours. I actually wore a brown version of the dress earlier this week at school and attracted so much praise I thought I should probably get one in each colour - you gotta take the glory where you can!
 After all my shopping I went to my  handbag nemesis Manor for a cup of coffee. They do the best cappuccino which almost makes up for the fact that it is really a den of thieves.

When I got home I decided to do things with the word 'one' in it like make scones and paint stones. Obviously as you can see these scones are my first effort ever and are not the lovely smooth delights one would find in a Devonshire teashop.  The potential for a cheesy look-I-made-scones face though could not be resisted.

 After making the scones I decided to  sketch a few outlines on some stones - a girl with a balloon, a whirling dervish, a dog and some flowers.  Here are some stones I have been working on recently.

I just have to finish by saying last night I watched the most sublime performance of the Argentine Tango by Jason Donovan!!!! I know I know.  But really it was absolutely stunning.

Festival of the stomp

You know when I moved out of my apartment back at the end of October my landlord was super nice. Everything was hunky dory. No problems. Lots of 'schon' and ' wunderbar' and ' kein problem.' When I mailed him a week later about returning my deposit suddenly things weren't so hunky dory after all. I received a mail back listing all manner of problems that he had with the apartment as well as a short spiel on how much cleaning he had done (which is bollocks because I spent the weekend scrubbing that place!) Many of the problems I know for a fact had nothing to do with me e.g. the central heating, the bathroom ventilator etc so I rang him and muddled my way through as best I could  in German! Anyway about halfway through he asked me if I had house insurance (which I do - good Swiss resident that I am.) Well suddenly his voice became light again almost jovial. Oh well then this is no problem. I can use  your deposit on all those things that you didn't do but I'd like to fix up since, well, there's some money going spare and you can claim it back on insurance. Everybody's happy then!
It actually made me feel sick becuase I could see the scam unfolding before my eyes.
In the end I have decided not to claim insurance as I do not want to admit fault for things that are not my fault and I can't fight him as I have neither the language skills nor the strength to do so. So i will just let him keep my deposit because luckily I am rich in imagination and hopefully  that should feed me when my finances can't.
Sometimes I feel as if my heart has not only been dragged from out of my  body this year but there has been some sort of  festival-of-the-stomp convenved to make sure it never really finds its beat again!

***

Still I had a positive mail from an editor today who really likes a story I wrote about  a man who is responsible for keeping broken hearts - apt really! So there is a chance of publication there which is great!

Wo ist mein mojo?

Today was probably the worst class I have ever taught. 

Can a teacher actually lose their mojo after only one day off? It was truly awful. And as it unravelled in front of me I realised I didn't have the right spirit or even the ability to fix it. 

To be fair it was hopefully not all my fault - the class was small - the topic was horrid ( reported speech) - the students were tired - but somehow I feel responsible for all of this and it is going to eat at me now.  I know my self-confidence/ my joie de vivre this year has largely hung by a shred but today it seemed to plummet even more deeply. 

I suppose I should take heart from a review by Dark Cargo  that came out a few days ago about CP1.

" My favourite from the collection is “The Moon-Keeper’s Friend” by Joanna Galbraith, because it speaks to my sense of wonder and delight, its pun on the word moon being the almond sugar on that little pastry of a story."

But after today's little teaching disaster somehow  it doesn't!

A day off

Christmas market in Barfusserplatz

Today I took a day off from work. It felt good not to teach or to praise or cajole. I had planned to spend the day at home fiddling about with some writing I am working on. Maybe paint some stones as well or perhaps even lie like one too. But then this afternoon I thought what is the point of a day off if you don't go out and do day off things - like shopping and coffee. So I ended up buying myself some nice underwear and going for a wander around the Basel Christmas markets. Every year they have a market down in Barfusserplatz. Nothing ever changes here. The stalls are the same, the Gluhwein tastes the same. The only thing that is different is the commemorative Gluhwein mugs which says 2011 instead of 2010, 2009 etc. I used to like these mugs. Not so much any more.

This year they have also set up a satellite Christmas market up near the Munster (the Cathedral).  The stalls are different and well spaced out. The lights look like giant snowflakes between the trees. I will have to go back at night to get a picture of these. There is an area with open fires where you can cook bread etc and a Wunsch Buch to make you wishes. The Wunsch Buch used to be down in the Rathaus ( the aptly named townhall.) I remember going there two years ago and someone had written ' Tod FC Zurich' Death to FC Zurich. (FC Zurich is the main rival football team of Basel.) Somehow I suspect this was not in keeping with the book's intention. I am happy to report that this time the book was filled with illegible children's writing and one-legged Santa drawings which is much better.

News flash

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CONTENTS

The City of Blind Delight • Catherynne M. Valente
Old Foss Is the Name of His Cat • David Sandner
All the Little Gods We Are • John Grant
The Dew Drop Coffee Lounge • Cat Rambo
Bell, Book and Candle • Leah Bobet
The Tarrying Messenger • Michael J. DeLuca
The Occultation • Laird Barron
There Is a Monster Under Helen's Bed • Ekaterina Sedia
Palisade • Cat Sparks
The Woman • Tanith Lee
A Mask of Flesh • Marie Brennan
Seven Scenes from Harrai's 'Sacred Mountain' • Jennifer Crow
Oblivion: A Journey • Vandana Singh
Choosers of the Slain • John C. Wright
Akhila, Divided • C. S. MacCath
The Moon-Keeper's Friend • Joanna Galbraith
The Tailor of Time • Deborah Biancotti
Root and Vein • Erin Hoffman

lay like a stone

This week I have taken to laying in my bed as flat as a stone. Perhaps some giant creative being will pick me up and start painting on me soon. That would be nice.

I did resurrect myself briefly this evening to go to a student's shop opening. Esempio Piu. She designs the most beautiful clothes although they are way too expensive for me. I didn't stay very long as I didn't know anybody and I felt horribly shy! ( I was also a little concerned I might spill my glass of prosecco over one of her lovely dresses.) I tried an oyster though - which really truly was like swallowing a lemon-flavoured booger.

This has been a hard week.