This is Ria. She is a lovesome dog, but puts me rather out of my comfort zone. I’ve never really been to Germany, nor known any shepherds, so have little or nothing to say for myself. An unnerving situation. Unheimlich, I might say, though I’m not sure it’s good policy to use up a quarter of my working German all in one go.
And why is it – says she, finding a straw and grabbing like anything – that English is peppered with French: bon voyage, mots and appetit, chic to cliché, déjà vu, encore, and so on ad infinitum (don’t get me started on Latin). I studied Italian for a year, long enough to learn how to inquire my way to the cathedral – but I have far more Italian phrases from learning music and dining in this country. But German, why do I have so little effortless second-hand German? What was Albert up to, other than tinkering with Christmas trees, monuments and museums?
It’s a mystery, but clearly not one that bothers Ria. Sensible girl.
The observant / awake amongst you might have noticed something different about this Ria. I don’t like tongues. I don’t hate them – I do hate teeth. Talk about unheimlich (in pictures, that is. In real life, teeth, though not my favourite, leave me undisturbed). No, I don’t hate tongues, but I did worry that Ria’s might dominate the picture, so I tried it without.
Ria was commissioned for a Christmas present, and I seem to have forgotten to take a photo at the end (Dummkopf – I admit, I cheated and googled, but it sounded familiar and if I use it a dozen more times today (this should be easy enough once the children get back from school) it might even enter my working vocabulary. I hope it does). But the finished Ria looked something like this:
Wunderbar!!! [grâce à Cole Porter’s Kiss me Kate]