Saturday, August 15, 2009

Cartoon Saturday, Part 2

I saw these two editorial cartoons in the Washington Post this morning, and - since Mike has already started this ball rolling with his post last Thursday - I had to share them with you.

You may want to go back and read my post titled "Who's Afraid of the Big, Bad Government?" before looking at this one...somehow, I still don't see why some people can't understand the applicability of the old saying that a difference which makes no difference is no difference...

This one goes back to my post titled "Why Can't We All Just Get Along?" I think it says a lot...about civility, rational thought, and informed decision making...

Enjoy the rest of your Saturday. More thoughts tomorrow.

Bilbo

Cartoon Saturday

Three people have been killed by a suicide bomber in Afghanistan, days before the presidential election; an entire village in Taiwan has been washed away by a monster typhoon; at least 19 people have been killed in a Mexican prison riot, not long after inmates using homemade weapons demolished a prison in California; and six people have died in Gaza as Hamas forces battled radical Islamists over a question of which one was more ... uh ... Islamic.

Cartoon Saturday has returned to save you from the relentless onslaught of violent reality!

Since we've just endured flights back and forth across the Atlantic, and I'm preparing for my next business trip, this cartoon has particular meaning for me...

Remember the old saying about old dogs and new tricks? This cartoon puts a good spin on it ...

Some cartoons really sum up the true state of relations between the sexes ...

Whenever we get ready to go out, Agnes and I go through a kabuki dance which always includes some variation on her question, "are you going to wear that?" Of course, even I know there are some places you just don't wear jeans ...

Yesterday, I wrote about the serious lack of civility and common courtesy in our modern political discourse. Of course, many politicians don't need a lot of civility and courtesy to express simple ideas ...

And along the same lines, perhaps we could get back to civil exchanges of views if we just got back to some communicative basics ...

As a bonus, I have something else to offer on this first Cartoon Saturday after the vacation. Yesterday, Mike put up a post titled You Might Be (an Engineer If...); by coincidence, one of my coworkers sent me this link to "the best Internet standard ever": RFC 1149 - Standard for the Transmission of IP Datagrams on Avian Carriers. It's absolutely hysterical, although if you're not an engineer or an IT tech person, it may take you a while to catch on. Read and enjoy.

Lots to do today on the first weekend back from vacation: grocery shopping, finding the garden under two weeks worth of weeds, paying bills, etc. Sigh. I need another vacation. No comments about the joys of retirement, please, Mike.

Have a good day. More thoughts tomorrow.

Bilbo

Friday, August 14, 2009

Why Can't We All Just Get Along?

Those of you who have been with me on this blog for a while know that I place a lot of emphasis on what we used to call, in happier times, civility. Civility can be defined as "Polite or courteous behavior; the act of showing regard for others," and synonyms include politeness, courtesy, and graciousness.

If you didn't recognize the word, or the concept, I'm not surprised, because it seems to be going the way of the dinosaur.

You can see what I mean by watching the news and seeing the utterly asinine behavior of many people at town hall meetings held to discuss health care reform - nobody appears to be very interested in actually discussing anything...they seem more intent on shouting down and insulting people whose ideas differ from their own. You can see the same behavior at almost any other public venue nowadays, from the aggressively disruptive actions of Code Pink activists who try to prevent normal business at military recruiting stations to the morally upright but civilly retarded persons who accost women at abortion clinics.

In the much overused words of Rodney King, why can't we all just get along?

As a nation, we face daunting, interconnected problems that defy simple solutions. Much as we might wish, there aren't going to be silver bullet answers that will deliver affordable health care, rebuild the economy, stop mortgage foreclosures, get our troops out of Iraq and Afghanistan, or bring rigid Islamists out of the seventh century and into the 21st. Finding answers to our problems requires the detailed discussion of complex topics most of us don't fully understand and the evaluation of options that will never satisfy everyone. And because everything is interconnected, anything we do to solve one problem may make another worse. How do we figure out what to do?

We've replaced honest discussion with shouted slogans, and analysis of facts with cleverly twisted misinformation, and we're all guilty. Each time someone automatically and unthinkingly accepts the opinions of a talk-show demagogue, each time someone immediately believes the worst of a person who is presenting an idea, we all lose. Each time some populist blowhard blames the government (imagine those two words uttered dripping with scorn) for every ill, it automatically polarizes the discussion and prevents honest and thorough debate.

One more time, what is Bilbo's First Law?

Don't let anyone do your thinking for you.

Examine the facts, think the issues through, and be prepared to discuss them civilly. This is the essence of participative democracy. If you want your decisions made by howling mobs, or imposed by a dictatorship that can't get anything done any other way, keep on keeping on. We'll get there.

Have a good day. Be civil. It's not hard, and you might even enjoy it.

More thoughts tomorrow.

Bilbo

Thursday, August 13, 2009

Last Thoughts on Our Trip to Germany

Okay, here are a few last interesting pictures from our trip to Germany. Okay, interesting to me, anyhow. Enjoy...

There are war memorials all over Germany, many of them in the massive Teutonic style often thought of as typically German, and others very poignant. These two photos show a memorial in an odd place...beside the parking lot behind Agnes's parents' apartment building. It commemorates those killed in the bombing of Singen on Christmas Day, 1944...the inscription reads, "In memory of our dead, 25 December 1944." By the way, "RIP" actually stands for the Latin "resquiescat in pacem," or "rest in peace." Nice that the abbreviation works in two languages.


An interesting historical side note: when my father was flying with the 8th Air Force from England in B-24s during World War II, one of his missions was to bomb Singen. Due to a navigational error, they missed the city and bombed the nearby city of Schaffhausen in Switzerland, instead.

This memorial is located in downtown Singen, next to one of the churches, and remembers those killed in the First World War. I almost walked past it because it is so thickly covered with greenery...

There are lots of religious statues around, too. This is a statue of St John of Nepomuk which overlooks one of the picturesque bridges over the Aach River in the Singen Stadtgarten (city gardens)...

Germans generally love to walk, and the country is crisscrossed with tens of thousands of marked hiking trails and walking paths. This handy guide was located in the Singen Stadtgarten...

And this one, a bit more scaled down, was located along the trail leading up to Hohenzollern Castle...

Germans love dogs, and you can find refreshment stations for them in many stores and restaurants. This one was in the courtyard of the Hohenzollern Castle...

I just liked this sign for a bookstore in Singen. The name of the store is "Reading Fodder"...

And finally, for those of you who don't like my travelogues...

Well, sadly, vacation is over and it's time to get ready to go to work. Sigh. Back to work today, back to the usual curmudgeonliness here tomorrow.

Have a good day. More thoughts coming.

Bilbo

Wednesday, August 12, 2009

Adventures in Travel, Part 6: Flying the Unfriendly Skies

We finally got home last night around 10:15 after a long and eventful day. All I can say is that I'm glad to be here.

Well, that's not quite true. I actually have a lot more to say about it. Go get a cup of coffee before you start to read...this may take a while.

We got up yesterday morning at 4:30 AM to get cleaned up, pack our final things, and check out of the hotel in time to get to the train station for our 5:58 AM train to the Frankfurt airport via Offenburg. Despite the terrible hour (considering we were supposed to be on vacation), the train ride was wonderful...the 5:58 (a regional train) was right on time, we got good seats, and munched the sandwiches Agnes built at the Holiday Inn's breakfast buffet while the spectacular scenery of the Black Forest rolled by outside. Unfortunately, I'd dismantled my camera and packed it away, so you can't share the marvelous vistas of deep, wooded canyons and picturesque villages tucked into the folds of deep green, rolling hills. We arrived in Offenburg right on time, had plenty of time for our transfer, and settled into our reserved seats on the high-speed Inter-City Express (ICE) train to Frankfurt. Train travel in Germany is definitely the way to go.

Our adventures began when we arrived at the Frankfurt airport station. I scrounged a baggage cart and we went to the Lufthansa check-in area conveniently located right outside the station to accommodate those arriving by train. The line was short and we soon found ourselves talking with a nice young lady who weighed our bags (within limits, thanks to some judicious packing) and apologetically handed us our boarding passes ... without seats assigned. She explained that the flight was oversold by 40 seats (!) and that she couldn't assign us seats...we'd have to get that done at the gate.

Happily, we were about three hours early, so we went directly to the gate and waited for the first agents to show up. We'd been told that they'd man the gate starting about 1.5 hours before boarding, but as it turned out, the gate agents didn't arrive until about a half-hour before boarding was supposed to start...by which time a howling mob of people waving torches and pitchforks and holding boarding passes without seat assignments was seething in the gate area. Agnes, who is better at belligerent arguing than I am, was right at the head of the line and soon managed to get us seats, although not together (we got aisle seats in the back of the plane, one behind the other). Business class was full, so we couldn't upgrade, but at least we had seats.

Well...

The adventure continued as boarding finally began. It was the usual process of boarding families with children, the elderly and handicapped, First-Class and Business Class Demigods, and those holding the bewildering array of frequent flyer designations ("now boarding our Xenon, Manganese, and Molybdinum Customers") first, followed by the steerage class passengers boarding by rows from the rear of the aircraft.

Well, that was the plan.

As it turned out, all the announcements were made in German, followed by translations in English, and most of the English-speaking travelers shut it all out when they heard the German. As a result, there was a huge scrum at the gates as everyone tried to board at once, and the hapless Lufthansa personnel gave up on any attempt to try to control the mess. We were able to get through the mob quickly enough to get on board and find space for our carryons, but the tremendous crush of people trying to get onto a fully-booked 747 far overloaded the crew's ability to establish order, and getting everyone seated took so long that we missed our takeoff slot and had to wait about 20 minutes at the gate while the pilot waited for a new time slot.

We finally got a new takeoff time, and the jet growled majestically away from the gate for the long taxi trip (via Poland, France, and the Low Countries) to the runway. We made the turn onto the runway, the pilot gunned the engines, and we began to roar faster and faster down the tarmac. We had almost reached takeoff speed when...

There was a loud bang...the airplane slowed...speeded up again...then lurched in all directions as the pilot appeared to stand on the brakes. We all looked at each other with some concern as the airplane slowed to a stop, then slowly began to taxi down the rest of the runway and turn off onto an adjoining taxiway. At this point, the pilot announced that he'd had to abort the takeoff at the last moment because he'd hit a bird which had caused enough damage to one engine that he couldn't take off safely, and was now headed for a place where the airport fire brigade could hose down the brakes and tires until it was safe to taxi the rest of the way back to the terminal.

We sat on the taxiway for about a half-hour, surrounded by fire trucks and ambulances (unnecessary, thank goodness) and large numbers of technicians in orange vests pointing at the damaged engine, making notes on their PDAs, and shaking their heads gravely. Eventually, a tug arrived to tow us to a remote parking place, where we all had to disembark with all of our carryons, board large buses, and return to a bare-bones gate area at the terminal to wait for a new aircraft.

We ended up waiting there, unable to leave the immediate gate area, for about an hour and a half, while Lufthansa scrambled to turn around another, identical, 747 that had just arrived from somewhere else. This gate area contained one small snack bar manned by a single lady who was utterly unprepared for the sudden onslaught of a full jumbo jet's worth of hungry, worried, angry passengers. She quickly sold out of everything, and Lufthansa managed to bring in a pallet of water and soft drinks, which also quickly disappeared. Finally, the announcement came that the aircraft was ready and we could board the buses to go back out and start the entire kabuki dance again.

Well...

We replayed the mass scrum that I described earlier, and finally got to the buses which took us out to the new aircraft...

...and where we sat on the buses for another 20 minutes, because the aircraft wasn't really ready yet. We watched teams of cleaning personnel running back and forth with bags of trash, and zipping up and down the stairs with vacuum cleaners, buckets, etc. Then we waited a little longer while a small fleet of cars brought out the more important passengers, who couldn't be expected to have to board along with the unwashed masses. Eventually, the doors opened and Agnes and I raced to the rear boarding stairs to reclaim our seats and carryon storage spaces.

This time, the boarding went a little faster, and within about 45 minutes we were back on the runway, where we managed to get airborne without hitting any birds or other aircraft.

Once in the air, the flight was no more uncomfortable and boring than any other transatlantic flight, and there was no further excitement until we were approaching Washington...and the pilot announced that he couldn't land because of some scheduling problem.

AARRGGHH!!

So we flew majestically around the DC-Maryland-Virginia area for another hour, until the proper permissions were received, and we finally landed about four hours late. The entire aircraft erupted in spontaneous applause as we touched down.

We managed to negotiate passport control without any issues, except that Agnes (as a green-card holding permanent resident) had to be photographed and have her fingerprints recorded...something we've not experienced before. Luckily, she didn't turn up on any secret lists of doom, and we soon were cleared to head for baggage claim. Our suitcases eventually arrived (although not, of course, together), and we sped through customs (all that time spent practicing looking innocent does help).

The final delay occurred when we had to stop by the Lufthansa lost-luggage office to report that I'd forgotten my jacket on board the aircraft. It had already been found by the cleaning crew, but with everything going on, they weren't able to get it back to me then...the nice, but very harassed lady offered to FedEx it back to me, which was fine, since the temperature was in the mid-80's anyhow.

We found a taxi, and eventually arrived home...tired, cranky, but safe and sound.

All things considered, it could have turned out a lot worse. We could have hit that bird after the first aircraft had left the ground, and ended up as a big, smoking hole near the airport.

But we're here, we're safe, I have plenty to blog about, and we're looking forward to taking a new vacation to recover from this vacation...

Tomorrow, a few last pictures and random comments about the trip, and then we'll be back to the normal level of curmudgeonly commentary on the world...which has obliged in my absence by offering up plenty of utterly weird stuff on which to comment.

Have a good day. More thoughts tomorrow.

Bilbo

Sunday, August 09, 2009

Adventures in Travel, Part 5: This and That

As we come down to the wire on our vacation in Germany, I thought I'd just fire off a few quick comments about various things that don't seem to fit into their own post.

Ice Cream. You can get marvelous ice cream and ice cream treats in Germany. The other day I discovered a flavor of ice cream called Maracouja. According to a Google search, maracuja is passion fruit. It makes wonderful ice cream. Speaking of ice cream, Agnes and I stopped at a local ice cream shop this afternoon for a treat...they don't do things halfway here...


The Ugly Statue. I made a mistake the other day when I wrote about the hideous statue here in Singen. I said it was called "The Tree of Life," but it's actually called "The Tree of Paradise." It's still ugly. And if this is what Paradise looks like, I don't think I'm interested.

Bears. There are about a million gaily painted statues of bears dotted all over Singen. I'm not quite sure why, since the bear is actually the symbol of Berlin, but it doesn't matter. It reminded me of our visit to Vancouver a few years ago, where the city was full of similarly gaily-painted statues of orcas. Here are a few of the local bears...

Family History. Agnes's father gave me an hour-long monologue this afternoon about his postwar experiences as he made his way home from captivity in Russia, through Romania, Hungary, and Austria, to a displaced persons camp in Freiburg, Germany. It makes me wonder if I could have been as determined and resourceful in the face of such daunting adversity.

Food. Germans always complain about the size of restaurant portions when they visit the U.S. They're always shocked at how large the portions are and how much waste results. Well, I'm here to tell you that they need to be quiet. Portions at restaurants here in Germany are enormous. And the food is wonderful. At the rate we're going, our luggage won't be the only thing that's overweight when we leave on Tuesday.

Okay, that's all for now. Tomorrow is going to be a very stressful day as we pack our suitcases and say our goodbyes to Uroma and Uropa. I'll try to put up another short post tomorrow evening, and then I'll probably be offline until Wednesday. Try to cope. Off to bed...

Have a good day. More thoughts tomorrow.

Bilbo

Saturday, August 08, 2009

Adventures in Travel, Part 4: Amazing Translations, and Opa's Boo-boo

When you have a degree in Linguistics, the world doesn't necessarily beat a path to your door with offers of big-money jobs. The upside is that there are many things you find interesting...like well-meaning attempts by speakers of foreign languages to helpfully translate things into English for you.

One of the best actually dates back to when I was living in Berlin in the early 80's, and one of the restaurants I often visited was a Balkan place called Ujak Tom ("Uncle Tom's"), which offered an unusually large number of howlers in the English version of its menu. My favorite was the Zigeunerspiess, which consisted of large chunks of meat and vegetables cooked on a skewer and served on rice with a very spicy sauce. In German, Zigeuner means "gypsy" and Spiess means "skewer" or "spear"...hence, the Zigeunerspiess was a gypsy-style shish-kebab. Unfortunately, another word for skewer in English is "spit," and - you guessed it - whoever compiled the English version of the menu translated Zigeunerspiess as Gypsy Spit. I always had an unfortunate mental image of a big, swarthy, mustachioed fellow hawking a loogie onto my plate.

I told you that story in order to share a few adventures in linguistic horror selected from the English version of our Holiday Inn guest services directory. I offer them as written, without editing...

"Cleaning. Please give your clothes to 8:00 AM to the reception (Monday to Friday). The purified laundering them, by express cleaning, on the same evening at the reception."

"Internet Access. We offer in the lobby bar a W-Lan access. Our rooms are opposed to a fee with a high-speed wireless Internet connection for you."

"Pets. The deadweight of domestic animals is allowed after notification, they must be clean, quiet and does not represent a danger for our other guests or employees dar. We ask for your understanding, which we will pollution caused by your pet into account."

I should note that each of these is a perfectly logical direct translation from German to English. I wonder if I could get a discount on our room by offering to fix things up for them...?

One of the things we used to keep Leya occupied today was the provision of Band-Aids for her boo-boos (real and imagined) and those of her doll. The Band-Aids didn't always stay where originally placed, though. One went from her hand to various points on her doll to ... well ... Opa ...

Agnes says it will take more than a small Band-Aid to fix what's wrong with my head.

Today, sadly, was the last day Yasmin, Vin, and Leya will be with us...tomorrow they're moving on to visit a few other places in Germany before heading home. They said their good-byes to Uroma (Great-Grandma) and Uropa (Great Grandpa) this evening. Uropa got a nice handshake...

...while Uroma got a hug and a kiss...

And we did, of course, manage to get the obligatory Four Generations Photo of Agnes's family yesterday ...

We'll be here until Tuesday, when we depart at an ungodly hour to head back to Frankfurt to catch our flight home. What this means is that I will try to post two more times to share our adventures with you before we head home.

And if it keeps raining like it started to this afternoon, it could be more often. Stay tuned.

Have a good day. More thoughts tomorrow.

Bilbo

Friday, August 07, 2009

Adventures in Travel, Part 3: Sculptures, Language, and Precocious Children

Here are a few odds and ends about travel in Germany.

Sculptures.


One of the interesting things about the city of Singen is the so-called “Skulpt Tour.” This is a pun on the word “Skulptur” (or sculpture in English), and refers to a self-guided tour of the city you can take to look at a wide variety of sculptures that have been commissioned and installed as part of the city's cultural and beautification program.

Now, I enjoy fine art - especially music and painting - but I don't understand a lot of sculpture, particularly the more abstract pieces. Especially an utterly incomprehensible piece of sculpture located on the pedestrian mall in the middle of town and titled "The Tree of Life." Here are a full view and a few closeups...

If you ever visit Singen, this is a must don't-see. The rest of the sculpture is fine. Or, at least, not outrageous.

Language.

Compared to that of most Americans, my German is pretty good. Unfortunately, the German I learned in school isn't what anyone speaks here...especially Agnes's parents. Her father combines several different dialects and he mumbles a lot. Her mother speaks the local dialect at about a million miles an hour. I smile and nod a lot.

Precocious Children.

Traveling with a small child has its ups and downs. Leya has had a tough time with jet lag and the change in her schedule, and it's been trying for her mother and for her grandparents and great-grandparents. We're all surviving, but poor Leya has not enjoyed the trip as much as she might.

We went swimming at the local Freibad (open-air pool) yesterday, and when Leya came out of the pool she wanted to get out of her wet suit and swim pants quickly. She then entertained us by running in circles shouting, "Naked baby, naked baby!!"

No, I do not have any pictures.

And that's all for tonight...it's late and I need to go to bed so that I'll be well-rested for tomorrow...when the weather is supposed to turn stormy.

Wonderful.

Have a good day. More thoughts tomorrow.

Bilbo

Thursday, August 06, 2009

Travel Adventures, Part 2: Scenes from Germany

The other day I showed you a few pictures of our trip so far. Here are a few more pictures that illustrate why I like it here...

There are castles with grand architecture. These pictures are from Hohenzollern Castle, which I showed you a picture of (from a distance) the other day...


Buildings have neat architectural features like towers, domes, and various decorative designs, and almost every house has colorful flower boxes at the windows...

People even have a good time with warning signs...

As I told you the other day, Singen has a beautiful city park and garden that we enjoy walking through as we go back and forth between our hotel and Agnes's parents' apartment. Here are a few more pictures of the park...


This last one is pretty interesting...several years ago a huge tree was cut down, and a large stump was left and carved in the shape of a beaver gnawing the tree down! Very clever...

Okay, it's now almost 10:00 PM, and I'm officially exhausted. It's time to go to bed. I'll try to post again tomorrow, but we'll see how it goes.

Have a good evening. More thoughts later.

Bilbo

Wednesday, August 05, 2009

Travel Adventures, Part 1: Lost in the Airport

I hope to get this post done quickly, as I gathered up everything I would need to work in the free WiFi zone in the hotel lobby...except for a plug adapter. We're racing the capacity of my laptop battery, so let's get to the first of Bilbo's Adventures in Germany...

This was a bit of a screwed up trip, as Agnes and I, our daughter Yasmin and granddaughter Leya, and Yasmin's husband Vin had to travel on three different dates because of work commitments. Agnes and I left first, last Tuesday; followed by Yasmin and Leya the following Saturday; and Vin, who arrived today. Since Yasmin was traveling alone with Leya (look up "Terrible Twos" in the dictionary and her picture is there), it was decided that I would travel from Reutlingen to Frankfurt to meet them when they arrived and help Yasmin entertain Leya on the train ride from Frankfurt back to Reutlingen.

Well...

We carefully studied the train schedules and selected connections that would get me to the Frankfurt Airport at 8:38 AM, a half-hour before the scheduled arrival of Yasmin's flight at 9:10. Anna dropped me off at the Reutlingen station shortly before 6:00 AM and I made my leisurely way to track 1 to catch the 6:17 to Stuttgart, there to connect with the Inter-City Express to Frankfurt.

So far, so good.

Everything worked perfectly, and I arrived right on time at the Frankfurt Airport at 8:38. I made my way to the international arrivals area and discovered ... that Yasmin's flight had arrived at 8:17!

AARRGGHH!!

I stood at the exit from customs in a seething scrum of people, scanning everyone who came out, but no sign of Yasmin and Leya, and no sign of them anywhere in the crowd. Suddenly, my phone rang.

It was Agnes.

"Where are you???" she wanted to know.

"I'm right here at the arrival area...Yasmin's flight was almost an hour early!"

"She's already there!! Find her!!"

"Where is she?"

"I don't know!"

At this point I hung up and started looking for a place from which to page Yasmin. Naturally, this could only be done at Information Station 14, located in the next hall.

AARRGGHH!!

I ran there and carefully spelled out Yasmin's name for the lady who made the announcements. As she was picking up her microphone, my phone rang again.

This time, it was Yasmin.

"Where are you?"

"I'm at Information Station 14 trying to page you. Where are you?"

"I'm at the train station. Leya is melting down and I can't wait around for you. I have to go! I have tickets to Reutlingen already."

"When does your train leave?"

"9:20 to Stuttgart. We're in the compartment for parents with small children."

I look at my watch.

It is 9:15.

If you have never been to the Frankfurt International Airport, it's big. It's the size of Belgium, with the population of Beijing. It sprawls out over various halls, bridges, escalators, and elevators, all carefully marked with a bewildering array of pictorial signs that look like something Carl Sagan designed for an interstellar space probe. The long-distance train station is about three time zones from Information Station 14.

I have not done any serious running since my days of mediocre performance on the North Allegheny High School cross-country team, but I ran that morning. I raced from Information Station 14 to the upper level of the airport, down hallways, through the Sheraton Hotel (getting lost twice), up to the railroad station level, and through the station. I flew two steps at a time down the escalator to track 6, where one door still stood open on the train to Stuttgart. I leaped through the door as it started to close and collapsed, gasping and streaming with sweat, on the floor as the train pulled slowly and stately away from the platform.

Now the question was this: are they really on the train, or did they wait for me on the platform?

AARRGGHH!!

I figured that the compartment with parents with small children would be in the second class part of the train, toward the rear, and so I headed off in that direction, scaring young women and children with my wild-eyed and disheveled appearance. I finally reached the end of the train, without finding the compartment.

Panic begins to set in.

I retrace my steps and eventually find a conductor who, after looking down his nose at my appearance and carefully examining my ticket, patiently explains that the compartment for parents with small children is at the front of the train, between the restaurant car and the first class section. I dutifully head off in that direction, scaring still more people, and finally find a compartment which contains Yasmin and Leya, who screams, "OPA!!!"

And it's all better.

Almost.

We finally got back to Reutlingen without further incident, and I swore a mighty oath that if I ever have to do this again, I'm sending Agnes.

And now, it's time for bed.

Have a good day. More adventure stories (with pictures) coming.

Bilbo