lautenist (lautenist) wrote,
lautenist
lautenist

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April

This month I was mainly busy still with moving. It was a tough time to clean the old flat, transport everything and I had a
job to do, too.
Anyway: Finally it seems the job is done and the number of things to do for the new home slowly decrease.

On Sechseläuten (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sechsel%C3%A4uten - the spring ceremony in Zürich) I had off and used the time to visit the wildpark which is now very close to my home.
I had the pleasure to watch wild cats (which look very similar to domestic cats). The shy animals are hard to watch, even in the park.
Then I visited the wolfes (no photos - there were tomany fences in beetween) and the lynx lying lazy on a tree before it climbed
down (which was big fun to watch but hard to fotograph). I take some descent shots. I like lynx! These animals are beautiful.
Again I tried to watch marmots but again I have had no luck. This time it was fairly loud around there place so I gave up quickly. Usually it helps to
wait for a while and remain as silent as possible. So I wandered to the bears - again I had no luck. They got a cup and therefore remained in their den.


wild cat


Lynx



On sunday I attended a game of "Hornussen". It's a widely unknown kind of sport which is played in switzerland, south africa and some parts of germany. It looks like a mixture of golf and baseball. A fascinating experience. More information about the sport on http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hornussen, http://web.archive.org/web/20050317164817/http://www.hgepsach.ch/Frames/Was_ist_hornussen/englisch/english_main.htm or http://www.ehv.ch/joomla/  (the latter in german).




I've finished reading "Das Spiel des Engels" (The Angel's Game) by Carlos Ruiz Zafon. A book of highest literary quality and fairly entertaining although "Der Schatten des Windes" (The Shadow of the Wind) captured me more. I read both of them in german. The translation is well-done and reaches the appropriate high lingustic level. For a summary please go to http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Shadow_of_the_Wind and http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Angel%27s_Game

The other book I read was "Making Money" by Terry Pratchett (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Making_Money) which is - must I say "as ever" - great fun to read
full of bizzare ideas, characters.

I haven't watched many movies in april due to a lack of time and I have to admit (ashamedly) I watched TV fairly often - actually a waste of time although there was an interesting play about a man from the ukraine who was among the employes cleaning Tschernobyl after the incident - not knowing about all the risks. His dream was to move to London (together with a friend). His friend moved a bit earlier and got stuck somewhere in germany (I guess it was Berlin). When the guy followed his friend already died. The film deals with his time in germany.
Although the plot sounds terribly serious it's filmed sensible and with a lot of humor.

On the musical side nearly nothing happend - although the mandolin orchestra had it's recitals at the beginning of april (not much music I would call "good" in the program this time) and there was a recital together with the other lute players near Basel at the end of march.

On the personal side even less happend - at least nothing I could report.

I don't know why but somehow the famous story about the Totemügerli is in my mind. A funny story because most words are pure fiction and invention of the author of the story (Franz Hohler) - but the story sounds authentic "berndütsch" and everybody imagines his story. The one or the other word even made it into common "Berndütsch" (for example agschnäggelet, but not as in the original story in the meaning of "scared" but rather "harassed"). and now the story itself:
sTotemügerli - Es bärndütsches Gschichtli von Franz Hohleraus dem Programm "Die Sparharfe" (1967)

Gäuit, wemer da grad eso schön bin anger sitze, hani däicht, chönntech vilicht es bärndütsches Gschichtli erzelle. Es isch zwar es bsungers uganteligs Gschichtli, wo aber n( gar nid eso lang im mittlere Schatte- gibeleggtäli passiert isch. Der Scl1öppelimunggi u der Houderebäseler si einischt schpät am Abe, wo scho der Schibützu durs Gochlimoos pfoderet het, über s Bätzmättere Heigisch im Erpfetli zueglüffe I hei nang na gschtiglet u gschigöggelet, das me z Gotts Bäri hätt chönne meine, si sige nanger scheich. "Na ei so schlöözige Blotzbänggu am Fläre, u i verminggle der s Bätzi, dass d Oschterpföteler ghörsch zawanggle!" "Drby wärsch froh, hättsch en einzige nuesige Schiggeler uf em Lugipfupfl" U so isch das hin u härgange wie nes Färegschäderli amene Milchgröözi, da seit plötzlech Houderebäseler zu Schöppelimunggi: "Schtill! Was ziberelet dert näbem Tobelöhli z grachtige n uuf u aab?" Schöppelimunggi het gschläfzet wie ne Gitzeler u hets du 0 gseh. Es Totemügerli! U nid numen eis, nei, zwöi, drü, vier, füüf, es ganzes Schoossinjong voll si da desumegschläberlet u hei zängpinggerlet u globofz-gerlet u gschanghangizigerlifisionööggelet, das es eim richtig agschnäggelet hel. Schöppelimunggi u Houderebäseler hei nang nume zuegmutzet u hei ganz hingerbyggelig wöllen abschöberle. Aber chuum hei si der Awang ytröölet, gröözet es Totemügerli: "Heee, dir zweee!" U denen ischs i d Chnöde glöötet wie bschüttigs Chrüzimääl dure Chätschäbertrog. Düpfelig u gnütelig si si blybe schtah wie zwöi gripseti Mischtschwibeli, u scho isch das Totemügerli was tschigerlisch was pfigerlisch binene zueche gsi. Äs het se zersch es Rüngli chyblig u gschiferlig aagnöttelet u het se de möögglige gfraget: "Chöit dir is hälfe, ds Blindeli der Schtotzgrotzen ueche z graagge?" Wo der SChöppelimunggi das Wort "Blindeli" ghört het, het em fasch wölle ds Härzgätterli zum Hosegschingg uspföderle, aber de Houderebäseler het em zueggaschplet: "Du weisch doch, das men imene Totemügerli nid darf nei säge!" U du si si halt mitgschnarpflet. "Sooo, dir zweeel" het ds Totemügerli gseit, wo si zum Blindeli cho si, u di angere Totemügerli si ganz rüeiig daaggalzlet u hei numen ugschynig yche-gschwärzelet. Da hei die beide gwüsst, was es Scheieli Gschlychets ds Gloubige choschtet u hei das Blindeli aagroupet, der eint am Schörpfu, der anger a de Gängertalpli. Uuuh, isch das e botterepfloorigi Schtrüpfete gsi! Die zwee hei geschwouderet u ghetzpacheret, das si z näbis meh gwüsst hei, wo se der Gürchu zwurglet. Daa, z eis Dapf, wo si scho halber der Schtotz-grotzen uecheghaschpaaperet si, faht sech das Blindeli afah ziirgge u bäärgglet mit schychem Schtimmli: "Ooh, wie buuchet mi der Glutz!" Jetz hets aber im Schöppelimunggi böös im Schyssächerli gguugget. Är het das Blindeli la glootsche u isch der Schtotzgrotz abdotzeret, wie wenn em der Hurligwaagg mit em Flarzyse der Schtirps vermöcklet hätt. "Häb dure, Münggu!" het em der Houderebäseler na naagräätschet, u de het er nüt meh gwüsst. Am angere Morge het ne ds Schtötzgrötzeler Eisi gfunge, chäfu u tunggig wien en Öiu, u es isch meh weder e Monet gange, bis er wider het chönne s Gräppli im Hotschmägeli bleike. Totemügerli u Blindeli het er keis meh gseh sis Läbe lang, aber 0 der Schöppelimunggi isch vo da a verschwunde gsi."




Tags: fotography
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