not as much fun as I wanted it to be

So, my exam is over. I am a bona fide historian with an MA degree (actually the direct translation would be Master of Philosophy). The exam itself wasn't very spectacular, which is why it's strange that the university is keeping the actual details of what happens in the exam a secret. Or so it seems. They finally have webpages where they tell you what forms to use and what formats your thesis should have and a hundred other things, but nothing about the actual exam. Anyway, it was even fun and afterwards I felt extremely happy.

Everything seemed to be going well. My room was clean and things were stored away better than when I first moved in. My guests arrived and helped me carry my 10 000 bags over to my mother's flat where I'll be staying until next Thursday or so while they're using my little shoebox as a base. We had sparkling wine and roasted vegetables and all kinds of delicious things and I went to sleep happy about my new status.

The next morning, I wondered whether my thesis had been entered into the university library catalogue yet. And it has! It's even findable in two of the important meta-catalogues. I took a screenshot as a souvenir.

Then I read the news that there had been a huge earthquake and tsunami in Japan and started following the news updates. I only watched one live report and had to turn it off after a couple of minutes. It was terrible and terrifying and I'm still watching the developments around the Fukushima nuclear plant and hope they'll be able to get the situation under control.

Why care about Japan? I'm an absolute nerd about anime (Japanese animated films and television series) and manga (Japanese comics) and I admire and appreciate many aspects of Japanese culture, even if I can't understand or empathize with all of them. And now that country that I am so interested in is in terrible trouble and I can't do very much except watch in horror.

So, not the best day. Then this morning I finally read the book that has been waiting for me for a month or so, about the last days of the Second World War in Berlin and the time immediately afterwards from the perspective of a twelve-year-old girl and that has also contributed to a rather depressive mood.

Then I fled. Outside, the sun was shining, the wind was warm and I had to buy catfood anyway. I went by my favorite silversmith's to see if she was already working and to see if maybe she had her baby son with her - three and a half months old now. I had dropped off a pair of knitted socks in February and wanted to see if she had received them. She had! And he was wearing them and she was really happy with them, since knitted socks were an item on one of the "must have" lists and she knew noone who could knit socks!

The yarn is Lang Jawoll Cotton Jacquard.

Anyway, that cheered me up immensively and a little detour through the Museumsquartier cheered me up even more. I've also found a new song to learn that has consoled me a little - a German folk song from the 16th century that Johannes Brahms did a litte work on. It's an incredibly gentle and romantic song from the perspective of a man waking his beloved in the morning and the melody is lovely as well.

So it's been ups and downs. Maybe the best time to finish my Herzblut shawl, which is eating yarn like a very hungry moth! But I'm getting closer and closer to the final row and can't wait to see it blocked and in all its glory. So much for now - the next post will be about my crazy camera settings featuring psychedelic pictures of knitted fabric.