A New Mapp & Lucia Story Preface I am aware that some people dismiss the continuation of an old story as the worst kind of literary sacrilege. They are eager to defend the author’s original ideas, so eager, in fact, that they refuse to see how new writers breathe life into those ideas and put them into the reach … More Pleasant Company
Overall, I’ve always been a happy outsider. Even when others made it hard to stay happy. Even when the happiness seemed to vanish because I was too different. And even when I didn’t notice I was still happy inside. But I’ve stayed an outsider until today. It seems deep down, I always was happy enough. … More The Incredible Tale of the Talkative Introvert
My second great-grandfather, Philipp Fabry, born in 1863, wrote this story for Christmas 1923. It tells a remarkable, beautiful story. The Story of the Christmas Bell As a heavy iron plate I was loaded onto a smokey cargo train in Westphalia that took me to Offenbach on Main. There, I was driven from the station … More Armistice Day: The Story of the Christmas Bell
After telling you a lot about my four-times-great-grandmother, Fanny, I’d like to talk about her husband, Hugo, who was born in 1830. He remarried after his wife passed away, I don’t know the exact date, but he was probably in his early 50s. His second wife was called Christine, and with her he had another … More My Dear Hugo!
There is such a lot of online hate going on, people bullying and insulting each other anonymously – as long as one doesn’t have to confront another person, it seems terribly easy to let it all out. Maybe that’s why real-life-complimenting, on the other hand, seems to be considered as somewhat outdated. And I don’t … More My Best Compliments!
Meet Fanny Katharina Friederike, my great-grandmother’s great-grandmother. She was born in 1827 to a schoolteacher and his wife and is therefore likely to have been a middle-class woman. She grew up, married at the age of 25 and later still lived in Hessia, Germany, to an age of 50 when she died of pneumonia. Fanny … More Revealing Fanny
Words can hardly describe the state you’re in. Walking down the street, you keep your eyes to the ground and, looking up from time to time, you feel people’s glances piercing your heart. There, a couple of girls, they are whispering, giggling, staring at you. Your stomach starts to ache and you quicken the pace. … More It’s about Themselves