Life is a laboratory

Life is a laboratory. Growing up and older more mysteries surprise. It's a wonder to stay alive. And it's wonderful too.

Thursday last week the temperature in Munich was below 10 degrees Celsius. Radio, TV announce that weather will change dramatically: on week end there will be rain. Water on the frozen earth changes into ice immediately, called ''Blitz-Ice''.

Friday I leave my job early, to see my daughter in Nuremberg. We are happy to visit the sauna bath in the nearby village Hersbruck again.

Saturday morning the rain on my car is all frozen. The streets are slippery. Slowly I continue my voyage to Bamberg.

North from Munich the high way is still more frozen. A heavy truck loaded with tons of paper can't brake.

Quicker and quicker the truck is lost, the driver injured, tons of paper-rolls fall on the street. Police blocks the high way for the next four hours, to clean up the mess.

Nearly 200 cars demolish the costly sheet metal in accidents. Walkers and people on bike fall down. Hospitals have week end stress with around 160 broken bones, broken arms, hands and legs.

In this strange scene I arrive in Bamberg healthy and happy on the Christmas Market hut of my Mimamai. Pia, her attractive student helper is six years younger than my daughter.

Pia, her attractive student helper is six years younger 
than my daughter.

People like me, who are not unemployed, get end of November a double salary, called ''Christmas Money''. I don't spend this money in the crazy stressing shopping scene, but many people do.

Mima, her student helper and for several hours my little help sell candles, toys, incense. After several hours in this cold fresh air my body feels so tired, that sleep is a must. After 10, 20 minutes I can prepare refreshed our dinner. At 8.00 p.m. Mima comes home exhausted.

Silent I read the thick week end newspaper, the usual sick stories from the local, national, international and global mental hospital. These days tons of rotten corpses are sold as cheap flesh in the super markets. These events repeat from time to time and are known as ''consumer scandals''.

The Gulf Stream, who brings warm water to Europe, looses speed. When this Gulf Stream would change the direction, Europe would change climate dramatically. News of this kind are called ''Climate Catastrophe''.

The rain continues most time of the week end. But this rain doesn't hinder customers to crowd the city of Bamberg and to buy Mima's merchandise. 

My pessimistic approach couldn't imagine in these times, when so many people loose their jobs, that Mima can sell successful. Happy and tired we eat our Sunday evening meal, I have cooked again.

After several days Mima enjoys a shower. She needs deep cleaning after her heavy work week in the cold. 

My evening entertainment: One thriller in T.V. and my day is done. Still two more of these weeks for Mima in her market hut and we can continue our life together!

The esoteric theoretical approach of wise writers is miles ahead above my poor pig head: Ramana, Jesus, Socrates, Zarathustra, Nietzsche, Marx, Freud, Bhagwan... all these mental giants of history and their living lovers... their thoughts are out of touch in Mima's market and my ordinary working life.

Writer's fantasy and reality in our n0by group gathering enrich my hours tremendously. But basically: everyone lives in his own life labatory, isn't it true?

Get people in groups, who we miss alone? I don't know. Do I care? Does anybody care for anything else but for him/herself?

5.00 a.m. Monday morning: in one hour Mima stands up, breakfast, walk to her garage. We pack parcels, drive to the market. she fills up her Market hut and at 9.00 a.m. first customers come again. 

Life flows by in this laboratory. My beard turns into grey, my hairs are falling out. This is the first Christmas Market with Mima's student helper much younger than my little daughter lady. Life in this laboratory runs by. 

People get old, do people grow up? Doubts remain.

Mima, her student helper and for several hours 
my little help sell candles, toys, incense.

People get old, do people grow up? Doubts remain.