Letter writing.

Once a week, and early on in the week, I need to write a letter to Sandy who likes to get something from home. It is FAR more demanding than finding something to blether about in this space. I haven't written a letter for years and certainly not to a child. My daughter-in-law sent me one recently and I have/had every intention of replying but - what is it they say about good intentions paving the way to hell?

It's a shame really. I rather wish I had copies of the letters chilsider and I used to exchange once upon a time until they petered out ... not sure when that happened but it was probably my fault. I'm bad at keeping in touch.

They mght depress me of course. I was re-watching Heimat 2 yesterday whilst trying to calm myself and draw in some breath (it's been a bit of a struggle recently, hopefully just the 'flu vaccine) This is the first time I've seen it on my nice flat screen and maybe it's because I can actually see it properly that the chaotic revolutionary 60's started to worry me, almost as though it was me going through that meltdown of boundaries, that blasting of taboos and social morés again. Maybe I never went through it at all and that's the problem. The revolutionary ethos (I stand in danger of overusing that word..) the prevailing spirit of the era causes disintegration in Hermann, the main character, and is responsible for a few deaths and near deaths amongst the characters who couldn't ride it out. Art was the best way to express what was happening so the students who became artists (and didn't do too many drugs) seemed to survive best - NOT however the ones who were in film-making where the expectation of debate, consultation and equal responsibility, those cumbersome communistic ideals, made working as a team virtually impossible.

One over-emotional character, Helga, achieves fame on posters along with other members of the Baader Meinhof group, the communist 'urban guerillas' wanted for murder. Which incidentally reminded me that extremism is a part of human nature now finding its outlets through religion...

....and there I go ... I have burbled here happily for a paragraph or two whilst thinking of NOTHING to say to a 10 year old... .