Ficken ist lieben und lieben ist ficken.

That was 1989 in Berlin. We went to Charlie's Checkpoint and on to East Berlin. The cars - I cannot describe. They looked so fragile. The windows of all of the grocery markets showed bare shelfs. We went to a high class restaurant there where we were served a teaspoon of each thing on a plate.
Back to Charlie's checkpoint- and I so wanted to keep the ticket which said East Berlin for my students, so I tried to lie and said I had lost it to an old guard who had probably shot and killed so many trying to go over the wall. Did not get away with it
.Back on the west side of the wall, we spent hours helping everyone to knock down that wall.
It was Christmas Eve. The Weihnachtsmaerkte  were still open. We went to one. Everyone was frantic in a western way buying last minute Xmas presents. Being so far away from everyone, we had mailed ours in October. (That was when we were somewhat organized, before children.) An old woman was walking and talking to herself and kept repeating the same thing, over and over again, which made everyone laugh.  She kept saying," Ficken ist Lieben und Lieben ist Ficken." She made everyone stop. They all forgot about their last minute shopping, for at least a little while. Was she an angel or was she an escaped mental patient?
We ended up at a Russian restaurant for an early dinner, Borscht and Bread.
Then we went back to our one star hotel room in Berlin, where you clicked on the lights to have them turn on, the mattress that drew us together, as if we would not have done that by ourselves and the constant traffic of the prostitutes who came and went.
 Christmas dinner- made by my brother-in-law's first wife, Manuela. Black roasted duck is all I remember. At least , she had burned away all the fat. I do not even remember what else she served. All I remember is that ugly dead duck that I never would have wanted to be killed. She was a love. She was his first wife. He has been a loyal Uncle to my children throughout the years. I love him for that and I love him as a person. Second wife- Solveig- gone. She was lovely too. On his way to his third, Marion. I adore her. Peter, "Marry her,"!!!!