12 August 2010

Posted by DMC on 12 August 2010 in Diary |

A sad day,. in as much as both  families, the Schneider’s and the Irish  are leaving today.   I have heard about both families for so many years from Michael that it was a great pleasure to spend a week in their company. I know that Irish family were not complete as there were three other brothers who did not come — one of whom, Cathal (Carl) is in Australia but the one brother who did come, Eammon., although quietly, going about his business most of the time, was extremely kind and helpful whenever I needed something fetched or  done. Father.  Simon was a wag with a dry Irish sense of humour and Nora, his companion, was an absolute poppet.  A beauty in body and  it looks nature; amongst other things she kindly re-sewed my the electric shaver pouch which I clamp to my right hand,  in order to shave gliding down.

The German family turned out to be delightful. Father, Andy, a 45 year old, eminent gynecologist from Coburg, Germany keeping eye on his flock of seven. Delia, whom he married when she was 17 was a lovely 28 year old who manages her five children magnificently. Between them they have  done a great job, up to date, in bringing up  five children, four of their own and one whom they foster. All of whom have different  needs and desires and yet, live and play happily together into one unit.  I shall be fascinated to see how the three eldest turnout.  The eldest is a boy, 10-year-old Adrian, who delights in wearing his hair at shoulder length to confuse people as to his gender.  He is most like my grandson of the same age, Fred. Then we have nine-year Nils, a waggish robust little lad who, as time went on, made great efforts to speak to me in English and did not make a bad shot of it. Nils seemed to me to be very similar in character to my own dear little grandson, Sebastian -coincidentally, they are both mad on drums. Then there was darling seven-year old Anika, most like my own little Lara, a real heart stealer the last  of the Schneider’s natural family was to five year old Nora.  Very shy and I did not really get to know how very well.  Lastly, came the 2 ½.year old foster child, Laura, a little darling, if, understandingly, a little more attention seeking than her adoptive siblings. 

She was a dear little thing and quite often took hold of my gutter frame in an attempt to assist me to walk.. If I had a magic carpet, and a genie I could scoop up any number of these children and happily take them home with me.

 Apart from being a great mum, and immensely helpful member of this combined household, Delia is a very accomplished pianist and has entertained us, from time to time, on the piano in the main farmhouse. Unfortunately we have not been able to enjoy the full impact of her beautiful playing because it was behind closed doors, 20 yards from the guesthouse. She clearly needs these moments of respite from the arduous task of keeping an eye on five healthy and exuberant children.

It was extremely hard to say goodbye to all my new friends but inevitably it had to be. ( For those on you who hate long goodbyes I thoroughly recommend you go to the video section of this blog and look at the one entitled I Hate Long Goodbyes — It is very amusing) .

Michael drove the Schneider’s to Stockholm, 2 ½. hours drive away, arriving back  in the early evening.  That day William was charged with looking after me.  We had a great day together  and  Really enjoyed each others company it gave me a great opportunity to get to know William a the little better,. We spent the best part of the day sitting on the veranda in the afternoon sunshine yawning away about life in general, and our  families in particular. Towards the middle of the afternoon we enjoyed a visit from Moa, (Gunnersson) yet another doctor, who had been a guest at the party the night before but we had not had the opportunity to have a chat and she was keen to do so.  The highlight of her visit was a solo performance of what the Swedish call, Kjula  The nearest thing I can liken it to is yodelling in the Swiss Alps.  Cupping her hands to her mouth, Moa, projected her voice through a series of different messages across the hills beyond.  This is an ancient way of parsing messages on from one person to another and was absolutely fascinating.  We would greatly privilege to have Moa performed just for us..

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