We are having what we call a winter storm. There is some wind and a quantity of snow falling, or in the words of CBC’s weather-describing service:

Snow and local blowing snow. Amount 10 to 15 cm. Wind northwest 30 km/h gusting to 50. Temperature falling to minus 16 this afternoon. Wind chill minus 27.

I understand that something similar is driving England to its knees. I will not suggest for a moment that the people of the sceptered isle are in any way irrobust or unsturdy, and after a moment of astonishment looking at the pictures of the problem and not quite comprehending that there is a problem…

… I rationalize thus– you’re no good at what you’re unfamiliar with. I have a lot of trouble with humidity in the summer.

I thus, in this charitable part of the year, try to renew the way in which I view not only the lamentable winter-driving of the English, but the tentative and fearful way some people of my acquaintance approach the noble fountain pen. They’re not used to it. They don’t have a basis for dealing with it, for want of experience. Given time and kind guidance, they may come to understand and even enjoy it.

Well… fountain pens, at any rate. There’s something deeply, pathologically wrong with someone who enjoys winter.

Today’s pen, gripping well despite road conditions: Lamy 2000
Today’s ink, staying off the highway until crews have cleared it: Pelikan 4001 blue-black

Post Scriptus– the menace of the weather has made me forgetful. I was in at Paper Umbrella earlier in the week, and they were just unpacking a new shipment of Lamy Studio fountain pens. There’s still several shopping hours left to Christmas!

I LOVE these italics. Stipula Ventidue and Aurora Talentum. It is peculiar that so few pen makers make factory stubs/italics withing their regular production. The vast majority among the few who does make italics for almost all their regular pens are Italian – Aurora, Visconti, Stipula… It is strange that neither Pelikan or Montblanc have italics/stubs in their production. Lamy has it for their low brow pens as Safari, Studio etc, but not for the 2000, which is a pity. Sailor and Pilot has it (music or zoom, at least) for some of their pens, which is a good thing. I’d be happy if all pen producers could offer italics in their regular production – I think they could recruit an awful lot of new customers if they did – scrapbookers for instance.

I’ve just realized that I’ve said a misleading thing, and I want to undo it.

A little while ago I was contemplating the ephemeral nature of click-caps. They will inevitably wear, I said. Enjoy them while they last, I said. I was forgetting the nature of the cap mechanism in the pen I’m carrying today.

So, for the sake of completeness– I absolve the Lamy 2000 of the sin of having a short-lived retaining mechanism. The sole moving part involved is sturdy steel, and while it may eventually wear, it is replaceable. Your grandchildren may enjoy the sound of its cap clicking firmly into place.

Today’s pen for the ages: Lamy 2000
Today’s ink: Pelikan 4001 blue-black

Learned something cool from FPN. Pelikan nibs from the old 400’s can be used in some of the modern Pelikan pens. I took the nib unit off the 1950’s Brown Tortoise (I know, I know, I said I don’t remove them anymore) and installed it in the Pelikan 200. Perfect fit. Nice for a little change up for the modern Pelikan.

Pelikan 200 circa 2000 installed with Pelikan 400 1950's nib unit.
Click on photo for close-up view

Do I contradict myself?
Very well then I contradict myself,
(I am large, I contain multitudes.)
—Walt Whitman, Song of Myself, line 1324, (written 1855)

…and far too many irons. This is another pro forma entry, suggestively intimating that Monday will actually have some content behind it.

Today’s harried pen: Sheaffer 800
Today’s ink: Pelikan 4001 black

Besides being a piston filling pen, the fact that Pelikan nibs screw out was another feature that initially drew me to Pelikan pens. That the nibs screw out means, of course, the nibs can be easily swapped.

Along with my first Pelikan, a blue marble 200 since re-homed, I also purchased a couple of nibs of varying width and style. I found that I didn’t use these nibs all that much, finding that once I like a nib I tend to stick with it. I know many other Pelikan users that actively make use of the ability to easily remove and change nibs.

I used to remove the nibs for a more thorough flushing of the pen. Nowadays I reserve nib removal for the modern Pelikan. If the pen was not a demonstrator I probably wouldn’t fuss with the occasional removal. Sometimes the ink does get on my nerves. Don’t get a see-through pen if you lean towards compulsive neatness.

Narrowly a Nibastrophe

Nib, collar, feed, and barrel. Vintage Pelikan 400.

My Pelikan guru was out of the country at the time. Using dumb luck I managed to remove the nib, refit it to the section and align it properly. It helped to have a guide in the form of the Pen Repair Book by Jim Marshall and Laurence Oldfield.

That particular Pelikan is on my desk today and writes perfectly.

Please be aware that some vintage Pelikans have nibs that are friction fit and do not unscrew. When in doubt pop by FPN’s Pelikan forum and ask a polite question.

Read Richard Binder’s instructions for how to swap a Pelikan nib.

Acquiring piston filling pens were my initial fountain pen focus. Piston filling pens tend to hold more ink than pens using cartridge converters. What’s not to like about that? The most widely available and moderately priced pens of this kind, “mass-market” if you will, are made by Pelikan.

Pelikan is my first love among fountain pens. The pens are elegant, hard-working, no-nonsense, and wonderful daily writers. It is the character of vintage Pelikans that hold my attention over the more modern pens. In my pen stable is a modern 200 amber demonstrator, and two beautiful 1950’s examples of the Pelikan 400. A surprise about the vintage striated Pelikans is the translucency of the barrel. Their beauty is hard to capture in a photograph. Well, especially for this inconsistent photographer!

Pelikan Style
The shape of the Pelikan clips represent the bill of the bird. The Pelikan logo consists of a Pelikan and at least one baby chick. The earliest of logos contained four chicks. My amber Pelikan originally had two chicks. The cap had to be replaced and it now sports the modern logo with a single chick, although the nib still sports two.

The nib on the green-striated Pelikan is quite flexible, a pleasant surprise to me in a 1950’s pen. Writing too fast with it, however, can cause a bit of micro drops of ink spraying across the paper. Usually that only happens when I’m signing my name.

The vintage Pelikans require a bit of care when lugging about from coffee shop to coffee shop for writing sessions. I have to ensure the pens stay nib up and don’t get knocked about in order to prevent ink spray in the cap, and consequently ink on my fingers. Generally the vintage Pelikans take short trips or stay at home. The modern amber can be shoved in a jeans pocket to no ill effect.

The modern 200 is the same size as the vintage 400: approximately 121mm in length. Posted the pens are 149mm. The pens weigh approximately 12g inked and uncapped, and 18g posted. The amber 200 is a tad lighter than the vintage 400.

A Non-Definitive Pelikan Reading List

• The Pelikan Issue, The Pennant, Summer 2001. This issue is said to have great repair information. I haven’t found a copy of it yet. It’s not even available on the PCA website. If you have a copy to share, please drop me a line!
• Chen, Victor, “Tech Notes”, The Pennant, Spring-Summer 2004, p.45. About Pelikan 100 piston seals.
• Dittmer, Jurgen and Lehmann, Martin, Pelikan Schreibgerate, A.H.F. Dunkmann Gmbh & Co. KG, 2004. English title: Pelikan Writing Instruments 1929-2004. If you’re lucky enough to find and afford it this is the book about Pelikan.
• Mamoulides, Jim, “Pelikan M1000 1998-Present,” updated 8/23/03. Penhero.com
• Olson, Nancy, “Pelikan 75 Years of Success,” Stylus Magazine, Dec/Jan 2005, p.26-30. An interview with Helmut Schulte-Frankenfeld about the 75th anniversary fountain pen. Also in this issue is a review of the Pelikan Schreibgerate.
• Olson, Nancy, “A Mark of Distinction,” Stylus Magazine, Dec/Jan 2009. I don’t have the complete article but it is about Pelikan hitting the 170 year mark.
• Propas, Rick “A History of Pelikan,” www.thepenquinpen.com. Rick is the foremost Pelikan expert in the U.S.
• Propas, Rick, “Pelikan Through the Years, Part 1,” Stylus Magazine, Oct/Nov 2005, p.40-44.
• Propas, Rick, “Pelikan Through the Years, Part II,” Stylus Magazine, Dec/Jan 2006, p.42-47.
• Propas, Rick, “Pelikan Through the Years, Part III,” Stylus Magazine, Feb/Mar 2006, p.60-64.
• Strohminger, Mel, “Pelikan Yesterday, Today and Tomorrow,” Stylus Magazine, Dec/Jan 2004, p.84-89.
• Strohminger, Mel, “The Pen for People who Love to Write,” Stylus Magazine, Oct/Nov 2007.
• Werner’s Info-Page Pelikan Pens A detailed site for information about Pelikan fountain pens, including indentifiers for vintage models, nibs, logos, and special editions.
• Westerich, Tom, Online Information about Pelikan Repairs. www.penboard.de/penpoint

Other Resources

• Pentrace has several articles online.
• Stylophines Online Magazine has several articles about Pelikan fountain pens.
• FPN has a helpful Pelikan subforum.
• Official Pelikan site
• The Penquin Fountain Pens

Search hint: from google.com type (without the quotes) “site:stylophinesonline.com pelikan” or “site:pentrace.net pelikan”

So I found a Pelikan 120 at my father’s office yesterday– he’s an architect, and I’ve been raiding his toolkit for as long as I can remember. Despite having sat around for a few years, it needed nothing more than a quick flush before I could ink it up and test it out. I used Lamy black because it’s the only bottled ink I have at the house right now. As it turns out, the quality is still pretty good! It lays down a crisp, fine line and flexes nicely (click on the image for a closer view).

The Pelikan 120 is a lower-end version of the 140, and apparently came in three versions: from the looks of this one, it seems to be the 2nd version which was picked up by many artists and architects.

The only flaw is that the nib is a bit scratchy on strokes to the right… I drew a circle on the sample page to show where the scratchy section was. After a bit of research, I found that you can smooth a scratchy nib on kraft paper, so I did that (very carefully) and it’s much smoother now. Certainly not buttery, but it doesn’t catch the paper now. Hooray!

…or, “What I did with my lunch hour yesterday that made my arms sore.”

I think I’ve mentioned previously that I’m a fan of low-horsepower socialism. The province I live in is one of the more socialist places in North America, is in fact where the notion of government-run healthcare came from, and yesterday’s innoculation experience is apt to confirm just about any preconception you care to name regarding that kind of a system.

The clinic was set up in a disused school (my wife’s high school, coincidentally enough). As one passed within, one received a form on which to print their name and government health number, with a place to check which essentially declared you were aware you were having needles shoved into your arm and might not feel entirely well later, and whether there was some reason you might not want the shot (egg allergy is a big one).

Passing along the hallway, there was a room designated as pre-screening, where the poor misfits who couldn’t fill in the form properly got help, then another room with a sign saying “Screening.” The use of this word is not what context leads to believe, so I’ll return to it. Past the screening room, the school’s gymnasium had a dozen vaccination stations set up, and a half-dozen nurses occupying them (the other six were, I expect, off for lunch), and a few beds for fainty types. March over, hand the nurse the form, get the jab, two if you feel like you want the standard seasonal flu shot as well, and away to a waiting room where you’re asked not to go anywhere for fifteen minutes in case you discover you are in fact allergic to eggs.

The cost to me– the gas it took to get to the clinic (about eight blocks from work), the ink it took to fill in my form, and about forty minutes because the place was a little busy. Plus a slightly higher tax burden than someone in a more laissez-faire part of the world. I am entirely happy with that. As a bonus, my wife had taken my son for his second shot (infants get two spaced half-doses) so I got a mid-day cuddle. Because the vaccine was entirely in government control, I could no go in any sooner than yesterday, because I’m generally healthy and not of an age where H1N1 is as threatening as it is to some. My wife got hers early for health reasons, my son because he’s an infant. I’m a little less OK with that, since I was in a bit of a fidget over contagion the past couple of weeks, but I understand the need to keep the clinic from being swamped with robust pushy people while the chronically ill and otherwise susceptible are pushed aside by them.

The one thing that really struck me as odd is the thing that would get the strongly right-wing sort shouting, “See?! I told you it would be like that!” The screening room was nothing to do with deciding who should get the shots. The screening room had a fifteen foot screen at one end, with seven ranks of chairs set up facing it, each rank twelve seats across– a theatre. This was a flow control. Each rank would in turn be taken in for shots, so those who had got there first were known and given correct precedence. The weird thing was what was being screened– a loop of a woman explaining what we were there for, what was about to happen, what the side effects might be, and why it was a good thing to get vaccinations in general. It was Orwellian, to be honest, but a very low-grade and not particularly threatening form of Orwellian.

Of course, I’m on side. The rightist might well flee such indoctination. He might also, as a result, catch a nasty flu. Carrots and sticks, I suppose.

Today’s pen: Sheaffer Statesman touchdown
Today’s ink: Pelikan blue-black

…is on its way to me! This is a pen that I have wanted since I first saw the exquisite photos  of it in a review written by the FPN member Pinarello -  that you’ll find if you click here. I got the opportunity to buy it – used – for a real good price. I have a very restricted pen budget at the moment, but this opportunity was too good to pass, so I jumped on it. Another special pen from Pilot. Not much of bling – just shape and a special design – by a French designer – Juliette Bonnamour. I think she has succeeded very well in creating a pen that feels Japanese – shape oriented, aesthetic, functional simplicity – with a twist of her own. Very special. Maybe not as special as the M90, but hey! my heart (the section with a material and profane focus)  is big enough to cherish more than one pen. I really look forward getting this pen. Please USPS and Swedish Posten – be swift and efficient!

After starting out with a heavy overweight of German pens – mostly Pelikans – I have gradually began to realize that the countries (design spheres) that manufacture pens with a design that often appeals to me – by different reasons – are Italy and Japan. I love Italian pens for their saucy, glossy, elegance. Smart rascals.  I love Japanese pens for their shape awareness, perfection, functional simpleness and grace with the M90 as their modern icon and the Nakaya pens as their traditional representative. Of course there are many variants and exceptions – but when I think of Italian of Japanese pens at their best – the essence of the best of their design cultures – it is those things that I think of. When I feel rich sometime in the future I shall buy myself a Nakaya. Preferably with a little dandelion painted on it.

Photos are not by me – they are linked from Pilot Europe. These official photos don’t make them justice in my opinion – check the photos in the review mentioned above if you want to get a feel of it.

Eigentlich wollten  wir heute so viele Kilometer wie möglich gen Monterey schaffen. Uneigentlich bleiben wir in  Santa Barbara länger als geplant einige Zeit hängen.

Nach einem kleinen Stadtbummel in sehr mediteranem Flair – man bezeichnet die Gegend auch als American Riviera -

folgte ein kombiniertes Frühstücksmittag. Bei mir mit getoastetem Weißbrot, Zimt, Puderzucker, Ahornsirup und frischen Erdbeeren. Die  Butter hab ich nicht gebraucht.

Beim Bummeln trafen wir auf fleißige Menschen aus Metall, die auch am Sonntag pausenlos arbeiteten,

auf Fahrradpolizisten, die Kids maßregelten, weil sie trotz Verbotes mit dem Skateboard auf dem Gehweg unterwegs waren

ertappt - ermahnt

und an der Wharf auf fotogene Tierchen. Nicht ausgestopft und angebunden, sondern frei schwimmend.

Nicht vorenthalten möchte ich natürlich, was sich unter den unspektakulären Straßenkappen mit der Aufschrift Watermeter verbirgt: Frau Tonari konnte mal wieder nicht widerstehen und musste das Deckelchen anlüften der schnöde Haus-Wasserzähler. Frostsicherheit in dieser Gegend garantiert

amerikanischer Wasserzähler

xxx

Ich habe heute den ganzen Nachmittag überlegt, ob ich dieses Foto zeigen soll und ich habe mich nun bewusst dafür entschieden. Santa Barbara ist die teuerste Wohngegend in Kalifornien. Man sieht, dass Geld im Stadtsäckl ist. Sehr gepflegt alles und wirklich wunderschön. Zum Wohlfühlen. Aber wo Licht ist, ist eben auch Schatten. Und hier wurde das ziemlich deutlich. Auffällig viele, viele Obdachlose zogen durch die Straßen. Manche bettelten, andere nicht. Sie störten nicht, sie drängten sich nicht auf, sie waren einfach allgegenwärtig und präsent. Ihr Hab und Gut hatten sie entweder im Einkaufswagen (Ausnahme) oder aber in Rollenkoffern (Mehrheit) dabei.  Die Polizeit kontrollierte hin und wieder Papiere. Verjagt wurden die Menschen nach unseren Beobachtungen nicht.

Wo Licht ist, ist auch Schatten.

I had intended to work on my website on Sunday morning, while wife and son still slumbered. I was therefore extremely put out when moments after opening the HTML editor I use (adapted to the meanest understanding!) all the lights went out.

Struggle upstairs, find flashlight, struggle downstairs… and all the breakers are in order. Call the power company, then, and discover that they’re well aware of the outage in my neighbourhood, and it will continue for two hours. This strikes me as awfully quick diagnosis, and I suspect they had a long-standing plan to pull the plug.

I am thus balked in my intention. How might a chap fill two unenergized hours? First, set up an alcohol burner to warm some water for tea. Second, arrange for some light-giving candles to fill the gloom, as the event came upon me about a half-hour before dawn. Third, write.

I had paper, fountain pens, and a house in which the temperature was still well above freezing. I could get some writing done. Several pages of fiction, and a letter owed to a correspondent (semi-fiction, then). Lights and family awoke at much the same moment, and the effort had to be put aside before my son and candles interacted.

It is nice to know that the house contains some of what is needed to endure life in the pre-electric mode. It’s the sort of thing that gives one an over-inflated sense of self-sufficiency, which sets up for a great fall when self-sufficiency is actually called for (although, really, our standard local natural disaster is called February, and it’s something you can dress for; earthquakes and hurricanes present no danger here). There’s also a lesson about the foolishness of centralized power distribution and the wisdom of in-house generating capacity (I might at least have been warm once the sun came up, if not back in computer action), but that’s a lesson I know already, thanks.

Today’s non-electric pen: Sheaffer Statesman touchdown
Today’s low-tech ink: Pelikan blue-black

Wir werden sie vermissen, die Pelikane, die Kraniche. Und die Keys sowieso.

The Regular Job is full of ringing telephones, as our marketing department has done something to encourage activity. Unlike the usual blissful isolation that is one of the more charming aspects of Regular Job, I find myself speaking several times an hour with members of the general, base, common, popular public.

In these interactions (those few that aren’t on the theme of “Why are you pestering us with your advertising? Take me off your mailing list! How did you even get my address?”), I usually offer the caller an item of information they need to write down. Several times yesterday, I was halted in mid-sentence by this unhappy insertion:

“Oh, wait! My pen is skipping.” Pause, with scribbling noises in the background. “OK, go ahead.”

…and I restrain myself from suggesting that they get a fountain pen. Fountain pens will skip, of course. This is not a sudden-onset problem, though. Either it’s a problem right from the start, and usually down to a misfitted feed, or it’s a sign that the pen is pretty much out of ink. It sometimes crops up if there’s a disagreement between pen and ink (this is infrequent, but some pens just don’t like some inks), but once again, you know it’s a problem right away when you start writing.

Ballpoints are your villains for skipping. Assuming one can convince them to write at all, they will stop and resume in a whimiscal and contrary manner. Whether it’s through deformities in the ball, lack of traction, or the devils that live in the goo that calls itself ink, I can’t say, but there’s not preparing for it, and the cure– extra pressure and lots of vigourous scribbling– is bound to put even more pressure on your joints.

It’s another reason I don’t use the things. When I’m doing a patch of writing, I don’t want to be suddenly faced with a lacuna in my sentence that can only be overcome with an attention-disrupting flailing gesture. I’ll stick with a reliable, mature technology, thank you very much.

Today’s reliable pen: Parker 45 Flighter
Today’s freely-moving ink: Pelikan black

On Monday, the first round of H1N1 innoculations started in this province. Great mad lines of people who had seen great mad lines elsewhere showcased on the news were clamouring for a jab for their children (children and sickies being the only ones eligible– a few from neither camp were also clamouring, and were shown the door). On Tuesday, my wife took our son for his shot, and it was apparently like going to a poorly reviewed short film; in, paperwork, stab, cry, and home in a half hour, including a required fifteen minute rest to see if he’s allergic to the proteins the stuff is grown in.

I have previously arranged some entries for dramatic effect, so some persistent readers will expect this pause in the narrative to be a builder of tension before I reveal the possibly humourous and shocking other shoe.

Nope. No two-headed offspring for me. His hair remains in his head, and he’s not gone some unfashionable colour. His appetite was a little off yesterday morning, but returned by late afternoon.

So what? So go get your innoculation. It’s not going to do you any harm (in the vast majority of cases– some people are allergic to their own toes, after all, so anything is possible), and it might keep you from getting sick, and most importantly, making other people sick.

I’ll be going in for mine as soon as the roster clears. Apparently pregnant women are now allowed, and since professional hockey players appear to be high up the list it should be no time before I can attend a clinic.

I hope this sniffle doesn’t develop into anything….

Today’s pen: Waterman 52 1/2 V
Today’s ink: Pelikan blue-black

Diese Schönheiten kann man im Zoo Hannover ebenfalls hautnah erleben:

Kleine Kinder sollten allerdings auf die Arme ihrer Eltern genommen werden. Immerhin sind die Schnäbel nicht ganz ohne und bei Kindern in direkter Augenhöhe.

Ansonsten sind diese Pelikane absolut friedlich und zutraulich. Man kann ihnen die Schnäbel streicheln, die Köpfchen kraulen und den Rücken massieren … Alles kein Problem. Nur die Ruhe sollte man dabei bewahren; sonst hauen sie ab.

Also alles rein menschlich. *g

Es tut übrigens keinesfalls weh, wenn sie mit dem Schnabel einen Arm oder ein Bein “schnappen”. Da sie dabei keinerlei Gewalt ausüben, sondern den Arm/das Bein lediglich ein wenig festhalten, ist es eher ein Spiel, als ein Kampf. Ganz besonders viel Spaß haben sie daran, etwas in den Schnabel zu klemmen, was irgendwo herunter hängt (für die “Nippel”-Sucher auf diesem Blog: Nein, nicht DAS! *g): Einen Bommel an Jacke oder Tasche oder sowas. Wenn man aber nett auf sie einredet, lassen sie wieder los.

Irgendwann …

© skriptum

P.S. Na, Herr Wortman, ganz so schlimm wie befürchtet, ist das X dann doch nicht ausgefallen, oder? *g

I suspect I’m suffering from plethory after last night’s dinner at my parents’ place– they’ve been out of town for a month, and this reunion meal was perhaps too sumptuous (chicken stew and fresh biscuits seems pedestrian fare, but so much of it, and mom-made!). As a result, my thinking tubes appear to be clogged today.

I will merely, therefore, mention that I managed to dodge all attempted impediments to repair some pens over the weekend, including one of my own and a client’s pen which has been in my hands for an embarrassingly long time (a saint of patience and easy-going nature!). I will add to this another note of praise for Francis Goosens, who provided the necessary parts, and who is apparently affiliated with the Conid Pens effort you’ll notice in the links to the right.

Today’s pen: Sheaffer Statesman (which, like the Waterman Crusader of a couple of days past, I’ve yet to finish the page for– it’s the same shape with a slightly narrower band as what’s currently down this link, and in a few days I’ll edit things into correctness), which has also received the Goosens Gizmo, or as it’s more usually known, the Fountainbel Cartridge.
Today’s ink: Pelikan blue-black

Heute habe ich meine mum im Wohnzimmer besucht, um etwas wichtiges für morgen mit ihr abzusprechen. sie sah gerade “Panda, Gorilla & co.” auf’m Dritten (NDR). In der Serie geht es um den Zoo Berlin und den Tierpark Berlin. Ich kann gar nicht sagen, wie sehr Tiere micht berühren. Ich wollte diese Sendung gar nicht sehen, war aber wir gefesselt und habe noch lange geschaut, nachdem meine Mum schon weg war, weil sie noch einen Termin hatte.

Ich fand das heute besonders toll, weil die  Serie, die wir sonst immer schauen, “Menschen, Tiere und Doktoren” ist. In der Serie geht es um die Tierärzte und um kranke, verletzte, alte oder vernachlässigte Tiere. Ich brauche echt oft nur 5 Minuten dieser Serie sehen und heule wie ein Schloßhund. Das Schicksal von Tieren packt mich sehr. Und wenn dort eine Frau im Rollstuhl kommt, einen Korb auf dem Schoß hat in dem ihr Hund sitzt, der in der nächsten Szene eingeschläfert werden muss, dann rinnen die Tränen in Sturzbächen meine Wangen herunter.

Heute war das anders. Ich war einfach fasziniert. Da war ein Tiger-Pärchen mit ihrem Jungen. Als die Eltern sich “stritten”, legte sich das Kleine einfach in die Mitte um den Streit zu schlichten. Da war ein Okapi-Weibchen, das Besuch von einem Okapi-Männchen bekam, aber dennoch interessierter an seinem Fressen war, zum Schluss aber die “Hörner” des Männchens abgeleckt hat. Da war eine Affendame, die ein Junges hatte und ein Tierpfleger, der das Geschlecht des Kindes ersehen wollte und die beiden dann gefüttert hat. Da war ein Elefanten-Baby, das zum ersten Mal im großen Gehege war und dann auch noch zum ersten Mal schwimmen und schließlich in einer Sandkuhle das Gleichgewicht verloren hat, woraufhin 2 ältere Elefanten sich hinknieten und ihm mit dem Rüssl aufholfen. Da war ein Pelikan, der anscheinend sehr genau verstand, was ihm gesagt wurde. Da war ein Panda, der absolut süß aussah wie er sein Essen in der Hand hielt, auf dem Po saß und gesittet abgebissen hat. Es war eine Wonne für mein Herz.

Ich weiß gar nicht, wie viel Zeit ich schon damit verbracht habe, einfach nur dazusitzen und unseren Hund zu beobachten. Wir haben das Gefühl, dass sie vieles versteht, was man ihr sagt. Es gibt so viele Situationen, die man gar nicht auf Foto oder Video festhalten kann, sondern die man einfach erleben muss. Ich muss sie manchmal einfach beobachten, weil ich -wenn ich an Menschen, Tiere und Doktoren denke- einfach nicht weiß, wie lange ich noch die Möglichkeit haben werde, mich an ihrem Verhalten und ihrer Art zu erfreuen.

Ich könnte jetzt noch lange weiterschreiben, weitere Situationen aus “M, T & D” aufzählen oder berichten, wie schön es war, von Zeit zu Zeit einen Hund in meiner FSJ Einsatzstelle zu haben, aber für heute schließe ich hier mal und bin gespannt, was ihr dazu denkt. Habt ihr vielleicht auch ein Haustier und möchtet mir eine Geschichte erzählen, an der ich mich efreuen kann? Bitte tut das!

When I got smitten by the fountain pen fever, via FPN over a year ago – before that I was just someone who preferred fountain pens – I got an urge to try as many pens and inks I could (afford) and had almost a year of wild buying, trying, selling, buying, trying, selling – which I am happy for – it was wonderful trying boatloads of different fountain pens from different brands – Aurora, Cleo Skribent, Conway Stewart, Delta, Lamy, Montblanc, Montegrappa, Pelikan, Pilot, Reform, Rotring, Sailor, Sheaffer, Visconti, Waterman – and different ink brands and colours. One real good thing about it is to learn what you really really like and want and let go of the things that don’t click with you to 100%. If I had kept all pens I buyed and tried I had become completely broke . The second hand market for fountain pens – both at FPN and eBay – is large which is a good thing both for buying-for-trying and for selling off the pens that one doesn’t like. And – the depreciation of most quality fountain pens is much less compared to any other electronic device.

I actually bought a computer (used) and a Montblanc fountain pen for about the same amount of money at about the same time – just when I moved from home to begin at the University. My mum thought I was out of my mind – which I guess I was…at least a bit. I had worked quite hard for the money during the summer, so it was my money to spend and I badly wanted that Montblanc fountain pen. I guess the computer is fragmented into atoms now – but when I sold the pen a year ago I almost got the same amount of money as I paid for it. That being years later for a pen in used condition. The inflation hasn’t been so bad, so I guess I got about 75% of its original worth. After 10< years of use! That is not bad. So, even if it seemed weird at the time – the pen was the better buy in the long run. OK – I used the computer for writing papers and essays, so it got pretty much use, but anyway. I think it is a rather good story – a true one.

It is more to things than what meets the eye and sometimes the things that seem most irrational are the most rational – in the long end. I am very happy for that, actually. The Swedish poet Gunnar Ekelöf has written a great poem about the irrational being the most rational in the long run.I find that very hopeful.