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Wildall Frankfurt Oder

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Das Wildall, Frankfurt, Germany. Gefällt Mal. Piercings aller Art, Dermal Anchor, Stapling, Cutting, Branding. Verkauf von modischem. Das Wildall, Frankfurt, Germany. K likes. Piercings aller Art, Dermal Anchor, Stapling, Cutting, Branding. Verkauf von modischem Edelstahlschmuck . Inhaber der Domain sowie. Verantwortlicher nach § 6 MDStV und § 8 TDG: Das Wildall - Gert Enger - Grosse Scharrnstr. 29 Frankfurt (Oder). Piercingstudio Das Wildall«in Frankfurt (Oder)-, Große Scharrnstr. 29 - Telefonnummer direkt gratis anrufen ☎, Adresse im Stadtplan zeigen und Route​. ll▷ Piercingstudio Das Wildall ✓ Große Scharrnstr. 29 ✓ Piercing im Telefonbuch ☎ Telefonnummern ⏲ Öffnungszeiten ✭ 1 Bewertung | Das Telefonbuch. Das Wildall - Gert Enger - Piercing Große Scharrnstr. 29 in Frankfurt (Oder) Frankfurt, ☎ Telefon mit ⌚ Öffnungszeiten, Bewertungen und. ᐅ Piercingstudio Das Wildall in Frankfurt (Oder). ⌚ Öffnungszeiten | ✉ Adresse | ☎ Telefonnummer | 1 Bewertung ✅ Bei ansehen.

Wildall Frankfurt Oder

Piercing | ⌚ Öffnungszeiten | ✉ Adresse | ☎ Telefonnummer | ☆ 2 Bewertungen | ➤ Große Scharrnstr. 29 - Frankfurt, Oder. Piercingstudio Das Wildall«in Frankfurt (Oder)-, Große Scharrnstr. 29 - Telefonnummer direkt gratis anrufen ☎, Adresse im Stadtplan zeigen und Route​. Das Wildall, Frankfurt, Germany. K likes. Piercings aller Art, Dermal Anchor, Stapling, Cutting, Branding. Verkauf von modischem Edelstahlschmuck .

Haben Sie weitere oder aktuellere Informationen zu diesem Unternehmen? Sie können diese auf wir-haben-geöffnet. Ich habe eine sehr gute und ausführliche Beratung bekommen.

Das Te … am was dort arbeitet, ist wirklich sehr freundlich und rücksichtsvoll. Ich habe mir selber Dort Piercings stechen lassen und bin wirklich positiv Erstaunt.

Die wirklich sehr gut. Sie sind häufiger dort? Kontakt Bewertung Informationen. Mein Telefonbuch Mein Unternehmen eintragen.

Naturally, any of them can and eventually will stop working. Introduction [ Skip ] After my father and mother died I started to wonder about all kinds of things and had questions only they could answer, but it was too late.

Since the same thing could happen to you guys, I thought I'd write some things down in advance. I started his around as a big plain-text file and had been adding stuff ever since to the point it was pretty disorganized and repetitious.

This is the new improved version begun in First I wrote a program to convert the plain text to HTML and now I'm editing the HTML version directly, adding images and links, etc, but mainly reorganizing and consolidating, and writing programs to do that too; for example, extracting chapters.

Desk tag I write this, by the way, at my big grey Steelcase desk that was originally at the Manhattan Project at Columbia, and still has the original Physics Department property plate from the s.

I don't know whose desk it was, but it was at the Thomas J. Fine, I love this desk. In my life I have been a military brat my Dad was still in the Navy for my first 13 months of life, and worked for the Navy for the next four years ; I lived on Army bases as a teenager, have been in the Army myself, had Secret and then Top Secret security clearances and then had them revoked.

I lived 5 years in Germany. I was "military" for 13 years out of my first 24 Dad in the Navy; Dad working for the Navy; living on an Army base in Germany; being in the Army on active duty and then reserve.

I've been in jail three times. I have a bachelors and a masters degree from Columbia U and was also suspended for a semester.

I'm an engineer! I developed with others in my group a communications protocol and software that was used all over the world and I wrote and published several books about it.

I was an Instructor at Columbia for about five years. I crossed the ocean four times on ships. I've lived in the country, the suburbs briefly , and in cities.

I was a disk jockey on the Armed Forces Network. I was a taxi driver, and in the Army I drove jeeps and trucks and armored vehicles.

I played the guitar in lots of bands and was a full-time musician for about six months in Washington DC after the Army. I was a long-distance runner for 40 years and ran the NYC Marathon in Due to my life's experiences, especially in the first 21 years, I'm one of the few people able to read Gravity's Rainbow and understand most of it.

I can still understand German pretty well but if I try to speak it, Spanish comes out. Later he became Dean of the whole school Since moving to the Bronx in , I use Spanish frequently because of the large Dominican and Puerto Rican populations.

In I wondered if I could still read a German after about fifty years of not using it. I picked up a book, Nach Mitternact by Irmgard Keun, and stared at the first page for about an hour until I felt the long-buried German section of my brain bubbling up to the surface and within a day or two I was reading it with almost total comprehension.

Speaking or writing German, of course, is a whole other thing! I'm So Old That I was born when the Rosies were still riveting, turning out bombers and tanks and ships by the thousands; the songs on the radio were about men going off to war and women working hard in defense plants so they could come home soon.

I was alive during the Battle of the Bulge, the Soviet liberation of eastern Europe and the concentration camps, the Yalta convention, the surrender of Germany, and the dropping of A-bombs on Japan, and for the next 20 years of atmospheric A- and H-bomb testing.

Atomic bomb They used to show the blasts live on the Today show. Also Herbert Goldstein who was one of the developers of radar.

And later I was close friends with a ss computer pioneer, Herb Grosch, who was in charge of the last-minute A-bomb calculations.

They were done at Watson Lab on th Street the Casa Hispanica building , which had the most powerful computing capacity on earth in Of the world, about 2.

All my grandparents were born in the s, the oldest one in if you can believe that. The flag had 48 stars until I was Africa, the mideast, and South Asia were still mainly European colonies.

Major League baseball was still segregated. I remember when the last Civil War veteran died, somewhere around William Halsey During WWII I actually remember this my parents were bringing me in the baby carriage up Constitution Avenue to the Navy Department, where my father worked and my mother had also worked until , when Admiral William "Bull" Halsey came over to admire me.

He bent down to take a look and I remember a lot of white hair, a gigantic red face, and gold braid all over the place, blotting out the sky.

Signal Security Agency] where they first met and throughout the war was on the National Mall between the Lincoln Memorial and Washington Monument see photo ; it was torn down in It was the Pentagon before there was a Pentagon the War Department moved to the Pentagon in , leaving the building entirely to the Navy.

I remember this building very clearly, I went there lots of times until Their job was to send and receive encrypted messages and they worked in the same building with the encrypters and decrypters, as well as many of the codebreakers of Axis codes who played such a big part in winning the war see Code Girls reference.

Then vs now I had a long long section here about how much things have changed in my lifetime but I moved it out, you can see it here if you want.

Unfortunately I missed the New Deal by 16 months; it ended in mid Uncle Pete , by the way, was an enlisted man in the Marines who rose to Platoon Sergeant E6 , equivalent to my dad.

No officers in this family! Except Danny. Minneota is a tiny town where most people were and are Norwegian or Icelandic.

My Mom's family was Norwegian and Norwegian was spoken as well as English; she still used some Norwegian words and phrases when I was a kid.

Diseases: lymphoma, polycythemia, strokes, embolisms, staph infections. She was a heavy smoker most of her life. Cause of death: strokes, hundreds of them.

On the death certificate it says Cardiorespiratory Arrest due to Atrial Fibrillation. I have no idea where the Fuller came from.

The only association it has for me is the "Fuller Brush man" door-to-door brush salesmen. He had lung cancer several times, colon cancer, and multiple heart attacks from some years of super-heavy smoking and drinking, but wound up dying from gangrene.

Dennis was named after Dennis the Menace really. His dad named him, ironically, after St. Francis of Assisi.

I never liked my name, not only because it sounds like a girl, but also because when I was a kid there was a series of dumb movies called "Francis the Talking Mule", which, of course, became my name in elementary school too.

Not until Pope Francis did I start feeling a little better about it. Although the New Deal ended just before I was born, nevertheless I grew up in it.

The GI Bill Servicemen's Readjustment Act was signed into law by FDR June 22, while I was in utero and it allowed my impoverished father to buy a house in , and it even helped me through college, Truman, Eisenhower, Kennedy, and Johnson continued and sometimes even strengthened or added to New Deal programs, for example Medicare and Medicaid.

This was the era of the greatest security the working people of the USA had ever known. From the end of WWII until somewhere in the s, people had secure employment, the necessities of life were affordable, and the stress level was very low.

For most people it was possible to enjoy life. Next-door neighbor Denny Neier, , with Japanese and German souvenirs. His dad also had a huge Japanese battle flag.

I was raised in a World War II culture since both my parents and my uncle were veterans and my grandmother was a Red Cross nurse and all the families around me were also veterans, much like you guys were raised in a s culture even though it was already the 80s.

Neighbors' attics were full of Japanese and German battle flags, helmets, rifles, bayonets, belt buckles, etc. Navy meat meant "the more you chew it, the bigger it gets".

Religion… My father's father was a Catholic priest who left the priesthood and my grandmother was a Catholic convert, so they were both nominally Catholic.

I don't know if my father or uncle were ever baptised, but my dad constantly made anti-Catholic remarks. He never told me that both of his parents were Catholic and that, therefore by birth at least he was too.

His brother, on the other hand, chose a Jesuit university Georgetown to finish his long-delayed bachelor's degree.

But none of them were particularly religious. And my own brother was baptised as Catholic at the end of his life.

Both my family and Uncle Pete's family believed that my grandfather had been excommunicated, but it turns out he wasn't.

Penso eu. In English: he was harassed by the Church because in his studies and writings he replaced faith in God by science, reason, and logic Grandad In any case, not too many people can say their grandfather was a Catholic priest!

Mom wanted us to go to church and we did for a few weeks but more as a continuation of a Lund family tradition than anything else; she never talked about the religious part at all.

He had been living with his mom in Arlington, but in June while Mom was still pregnant with me he got an apartment at 19th Street NE Apartment C in DC, between C and D Streets, way over by the Anacostia River, 4 miles along Constitution Avenue from his job at the Navy Department — the same distance but in the opposite direction from my grandmother's house where he lived before.

Me and Spencer Light switch Even though we lived there only seven months when I was very little, I still I have memories of the place.

One of them is of the light switches, which were composed of big fat cylindrical buttons, arranged vertically. When you push one, the other one pops out.

The button for "on" had a pearlish face, the "off" button was black. Operating the switch made a very distinctive noise. I remember my Mom turning the light off after putting me to bed in the crib.

The other memory is of another baby my age, named Spencer Hawkins. We lived on the second floor and there was a back door with a big stairs to a back yard.

They would put my playpen right up against Spencer's so we could "play" together. He would reach in and grab the little bit of hair that I had and pull my head up against the bars with all his might.

This happened every time. I never wanted to go down there but didn't know how to talk so couldn't explain it.

It's painted a pale yellow now but if you look closely you can see it's made of brick, and the house where I lived then was definitely brick as you can see from the other pictures.

The last time I saw it in person was in it was not yellow then and the house I'm seeing in Google now certainly was not built since then.

It's only 2 blocks from Anacostia Park, on the river of the same name, so probably my Mom took me there to play as an infant.

Jacobs and they bought the house in Arlington VA on the NW corner of Glebe Road and North 23rd Street where she lived out her life and where I was conceived my dad showed me the exact spot in , an upstairs bedroom under the gabled roof and where I lived as a toddler.

Gus and Jake were together a couple years, he took off, and they divorced. According to her death certificate Gus was Mrs.

In any case. Dad moved back in with Gus and presumably Jake in when, in his second Navy hitch, he was assigned to Navy Department headquarters in DC.

Pete also lived there for about a year in when he was going to George Washington University, then went off to the war, then moved back in with her in the mids when he resumed his college education at Georgetown University on the GI Bill.

About Jake Dad writes in a letter to Gus after spending a week's shore leave with her, "I was surprised, in a way, at what a nice old guy Jake is.

I don't hardly know what I expected, but whatever it was, he certainly surpassed all my expectations. Glebe Road was lined with substantial s-vintage white frame houses then; few of them remain as of I used to play with the little girl two houses over in her backyard, Laura Schmidt.

I remember going trick-or-treating along there as a child, and all the people who lived in them were very, very old, living behind lace curtains amongst musty doilys.

Being in Gus's house was like traveling back to the s. Ornate upholstered furniture, piano she could play it , art-deco lamps, Persian rugs, heavy velvet draperies, and a gigantic hand-cranked wooden victrola similar to the one in the picture, with a tinny little speaker built into the tone arm , which used bamboo needles.

As noted elsewhere in here , Gus had thousands and thousands of 78rpm records of s pop music in her attic. Many of these old records could only be played with bamboo needles; a metal one would ruin them.

The huge backyard was sold off in two pieces; the farthest half in ; a new brick house was built there, and later the rest so now there's barely room for a lawn table in back.

You can still see the back porch where I used to sing Zipidee Doo Dah in , my favorite song when I was 2. I'm not kidding, I remember this clearly.

The original backyard was full of all kinds of things… gourds another quirk of Gus and her sisters, collecting gourds , a plum tree, all kinds of ceramic pots and shards, a gang of ducks, her cat Tiger who lived outside with the ducks and ate mice , various other pets, twisting vines, huge flowering bushes, a vegetable garden, various ornate settees… It was like being in a Gaugin painting.

The radiator in the kitchen had a big hole for the water pipe, and I could look through to see the tenant's apartment.

One time I dropped all my Tinker Toy sticks down the hole. This was when I was one year old; I remember it clearly. Another memory… Once when we were there she had mice under the front porch.

So she filled one of those old fashioned metal flit guns yes, I have a picture of it with DDT and put on her grey WWI gas mask and went under the porch on hands and knees to "fumigate" it.

I was so impressed by the gas mask she gave it to me. It was very antique-looking, with a long canister that stuck out in front. As you came down Gus's stairs there was a Mona Lisa reproduction on the facing wall, and the bathroom to the right that had an etched-glass window so people couldn't see inside.

On the sink was her tube of Ipana toothpaste, a top brand then, now long forgotten except in crossword puzzles. For years I used to have a dream about my grandmother's house; I was very little, crawling up the narrow red-carpeted stairs as a baby towards a room at the top of the stairs and coming into a bright light with some kind of intense feeling.

This was long before my dad ever told me I was conceived up there; I always pictured the act taking place on the grass next to the Reflecting Pool in DC, between the Lincoln Memorial and the Washington Monument, where my Mom's barracks were in WAVE Quarters B, West Potomac Park but now that I think about it, that would have been in February, a bit chilly for frolicking in the grass.

The area around Gus's house in the s was like small-town America in a Frank Capra movie. When I was 9 and 10 years old, whenever we went to visit my grandmother, she'd give me a whole dollar and I'd go to the Dime Store on my own and come back with a load of toys and comics which in those days included the comic book called Mad, which later became Mad Magazine.

As noted elsewhere, after Gus died we moved to a brick house directly behind her house but two blocks away. It didn't occur to me before, but the house we moved into in didn't exist when we lived with her in I wonder what was back there then!

He walked up to the door and knocked on it, a youngish prosperous-looking man answered, dad explained he used to live there in the s and his mother was the original owner; the man invited us in to look around.

This was when dad showed me where I was created. The place didn't look very familiar inside, the man said they had done a lot of renovating.

Dad mentioned that he and Pete had remodeled the basement so Gus could take in boarders. The man said, "So YOU were the ones!

That was the worst wiring job I ever saw! From an email to George Gilmer , December , about how I happened to have grown up in Virginia: Your family goes back pretty far in the area.

Mine all came from other places. She was born in Maryland but after she got married she moved to Kansas with my Portuguese grandfather, and that's where my Dad was born.

But when she and my grandfather broke up she moved back to the Washington area to work at Georgetown University Hospital as a nurse. Anyway it seems like he always wanted to live somewhere close to his Mom, so sometimes we lived in her house, we lived in an apartment in NE DC for a while, moved back to her house, then to Chesterbrook.

When she died in we moved to a house that was only 2 blocks from her house we would have moved to her house but my father and my uncle couldn't agree who would get it so they sold it.

My Mom, as you know, came from Minnesota. The only American side of the family was my father's mother, a family that had been in Maryland since the s; everybody else was recent immigrants.

So in short, Gus was the anchor. Even if she and my dad didn't get along and he thought she was crazy, he always wanted to be around where she was.

Danny my cousin who grew up in Lebanon says, "It's a real shame we didn't get to know Gus directly, although Dad [Uncle Pete] talked to us about her with fondness and also left us the impression she was a quirky force field around which they gravitated ".

His sister Lina also my cousin, of course says, "Dad loooooved Teita Lenore and made us love her He loved her so much that Lina's middle name is Lenore!

Danny and Lina's cousin Rif Rifa'at Haffar, son of the sister, Najwa, of Gus's daughter-in-law Leila , upon reading this, commented "What a wonderfully disruptive creature she must have been!

The house was on Kirby Road in Fairfax County in a place that everybody called Chesterbrook but that wasn't on any map.

The area was totally rural except for this brand-new small development of cheap houses built for returning veterans, plus a small number older and larger houses along the short stretch of Kirby Road between our house and Old Dominion Drive.

The closest "town" was McLean in those days just a crossroads with a few stores. View down the hill - GI-bill cinderblock cubes, late s There was a dense forest in front of our house and another forest down the hill, behind the cluster of GI Bill houses.

Up and down Kirby Road were old family farms, pastures, animals, and more forests. All gone since the s. I have a whole website about this place with photos and stories; click here to see it.

It pains me to say it, but our little working-class GI-Bill housing development was the beginning of the process that gentrified the whole area out of existence.

Tyson's Corner Bond Bread door McLean pronounced "mclane" , which is now a metropolis, was just an intersection with a feed store, a Safeway, a gas station, and a junk store; Tyson's Corner had a rickety old wooden diner with a Bond Bread screen door a fixture of rural Virginia in the mids and cows grazing on the land around it.

I'd go there on my bike, five miles there and five miles back, just to get an ice cream soda. All of these places are now glass-and-steel metropolises complete with highways and cloverleafs.

Our back yard and the Walkers' At first we had the house but no car, no TV, no phone, no toaster, no washing machine.

We saved scraps of soap, grew our own vegetables, got milk and eggs from the farmers. When milk ran low, my Mom would cut it with water.

The milk came straight from the cows up the road; it had a layer of cream on top. The road our house was on was a dirt road until about When it needed work and when it was finally paved, the work was done by chain gangs of Black prisoners.

Our house was only 3 miles from Washington DC, years before the postwar suburban explosion wiped out the Civil-War era farms and expanses of forest and open fields.

The area was originally settled by newly freed slaves in the s. Of course Indians lived there before that; the tribes in that area were Manticore and Powhatan, but I don't recall anybody ever finding any trace of them.

Not too far away is the well-preserved Manassas battlefield, where the farmhouses and fields are unchanged and the look aside from added statues and historical markers is pretty much the same as the farming area around our house.

The Hill farm s, barn at right Harry Hill mids Just up the road a couple hundred feet was the Hill farm: Russell and Avis Hill and their son Harry, who was one my major childhood friends.

He was kind of like Huck Finn, always getting into trouble. The farm was 40 acres, usually fallow but sometimes Russell would plant a crop of tobacco or rye on the least-recently-used quarter of land.

I remember tobacco drying in the barn, of which you can see a piece in the photo; it was bigger than it looks. There were other outbuildings too, and all kinds of rusty old plows and harrows and rakes and rusted hulks of s pickup trucks and old school buses scattered over the land.

But he did have a working tractor; I used to ride on it with him. I spent a lot of my time there. Avis would often give me lunch invariably Campbell's tomato soup and piece of toast.

One day when we were sitting around the kitchen table at lunch, Russel sees something in a tree out the window, grabs his shotgun which is leaning up in the corner right next to him and shoots it He was always playing tricks on me, like getting me shocked on electric fences, giving me whisky to drink, etc.

But on the positive side he showed me how to make apple cider, how to get walnuts out of their husks, how to use a plow, how to play Edison cylinders, how to castrate a horse he had a special tool for that , how to painlessly kill a litter of unwanted kittens Not that I ever did the last two!

Jimmie like Harry was a couple years younger than me. Jimmie and I made contact by email after 60 years and he turned out to have a nearly perfect memory, plus he had a lot of knowledge of the history of the area.

Mary is the one who rescued my mom from the washing machine , and also probably saved her life one of the times when she tried to kill herself.

These were much bigger than the Hill farm, maybe acres, and they had barns and other outbuildings, livestock, live-in farmhands, grazing land, fields for corn, rye, or tobacco; pigsties, chickens, goats, ducks, and geese.

Many of these farming families were related to the Hills. I would estimate that those farmhouses dated from the s to about ; they were wooden, painted white, with a big front porch.

Some had outhouses rather than bathrooms with plumbing. I remember being at one of the farms when they were digging a well — the old-fashioned way: with a shovel.

The farmer with his shirt off about 20 feet down in the red clay and still no sign of water. Farm animals roamed free no confining them into tiny boxes for their whole life, as is done now — cows went out to pasture in the morning and "came home" to the barn at night, where they were milked the next morning, usually by the children.

The farm ladies used the expression, "til the cows come home". They didn't actually come home by themselves; usually the kids would go out bring them in, so the expression actually meant either "never" or "forever", depending on context.

There was always a big shade tree where the cows could lay around in the shade on hot summer days, when the temperature could go to , and there were electric fences to keep the cows in the pasture, and within it big well-worn salt licks for their enjoyment.

For us kids, the cows were fun to play wish but also a little scary when they chased us. Chickens lived in a big airy coop where they could run around and it didn't get all stinky.

Rabbits lived in hutches that they chewed their way out of. Pigs had their own big area for wallowing.

Geese, ducks, dogs, and cats ran free and the roosters crowed at sunup and a course of dogs joined in. The main meal was served at noon, all the family and the hands around a long table heaped with fried chicken, mashed potatoes, greens cooked in hamhocks, and home-baked biscuits, with fresh-made lemonade to drink.

The farmers — Black and White alike — helped each other out, shared equipment, and socialized. When Little League started in , sometimes the practices or games were miles and miles away and I'd bike there.

It was a good bike, it was like an "English racer" i. There were big hills where I could go down at 40mph I had a speedometer.

I never wore a bike helmet, never even heard of such a thing. Sometimes we'd go with Howard and Lita and Sarabecca.

Aside from the bike, the other thing I used money for as a kid was buying plastic models of WWII airplanes and gluing them together. No, I wasn't a glue sniffer.

Later on, after we moved to Arlington, Ludwig and I blew them all up with cherry bombs. It is just wide enough for a barge. The barge was pulled by mules on the tow-path alongside, the mules driven by Black men, like a scene from the antebellum South.

Just downstream of Key Bridge is the uninhabited Roosevelt Island, where my dad said he used to take women for sex in the woods during the War.

Hmmm… perhaps including my Mom! Also on the Potomac at K Street was the Hopfenmaier Rendering Plant that converted dead animals into fertilizer and put out a horrific stench a holdover from the days before cars; it's where all the dead cart horses ended up.

Cars traveling along Whitehurst Freeway had to roll up their windows, it was a DC ritual. Gus had a lot of jokes about this place but I can't remember them.

Postwar margarine My mom baked bread because we couldn't afford to buy it at the store, and we made toast in the stove's broiler because we coudn't afford a toaster.

If we had meat, it was usually Spam. More often we'd have beans Navy beans of course. Sometimes we didn't have anything for dinner except toast and milk.

Mom would put a slice of toast in a bowl and pour hot milk over it; she called it Graveyard Stew. To me it was a wonderful treat. It also had a pat of margarine I never even heard of real butter until after I left home.

Margarine came in a plastic bag. It was white and there was a little red pill; you had to squeeze and massage the bag to make the margarine turn yellow.

Mom always gave us a hot breakfast because it was "the most important meal of the day": eggs, bacon, toast, applesauce, and milk. She saved the bacon fat in cans and jars and used it for cooking instead of oil.

Sometimes we had oatmeal, and on special occasions pancakes or waffles. I think I made that for you guys a few times.

One of the main compulsions I still have from those days is to never to waste food or soap Sometimes they couldn't afford coffee or it was still scarce and drank Postum.

She made our clothes and her own herself and washed them in a tub a with a washboard and brown soap. If she needed to make a phone call she used the neighbors' phone.

We didn't go anywhere. This existence made my mom pretty depressed. But at the time I didn't think any of this was unusual because it was all I knew.

Little by little my dad earned more money; I remember the big milestones: a real toaster, a Maytag cast-iron washing machine with a power ringer , in a new Ford, and finally about or , a TV so I lived the first 9 or 10 years of my life without television, and then another five years while in Germany, and another 2 years after the Army, so about 17 out of my first 24 years with no TV.

For health care there was a dentist, Dr. Cooksie I barely remember him and a husband-and-wife medical practice, Dr. Willard and Dr. White, in Arlington close to my grandmother's house.

If I got sick with measles or mumps or chicken pox I had all those my Mom would call from the neighbor's house and Dr.

Willard would come in his car. For measles they had to make the house dark inside for a week. When I was five, evidently Dr.

Willard told my parents that I needed to have my tonsils and adenoids out, and to be circumcised. Standard practice in those days except circumcision was normally done a birth, not at age A visit to or from Drs.

I had to go every six months to have the wax removed from my ears But after I was 10 or so it didn't happen any more. Mom used Norwegian words in everyday speech but I didn't know they weren't English.

She also called a head scarf a "babushka", I don't know where she got that! My dad, on the other hand, never showed any sign that his father was Portuguese.

Before the TV we'd do different things at night. Often, just read. Or play checkers. In summer we'd go out in the yard and watch the sun go down, or wait for the big storm to come.

We had a big wooden radio and record player console with cloth over the speakers; Dennis and I would lay on the rug next to it to listen, picturing the action in our heads.

Movies in those days were creative, made with live actors, original scripts, original ideas, usually based on real life, not comic books.

There were hardly ever sequels with some exceptions like the Thin Man and Tarzan series. Going to movies was fun, not painful.

Admission was a dollar or less, there were no ads, theaters were lushly decorated, clean, and comfortable, there were ushers, and there was a huge velvet curtain that opened when the show was about to start.

The show consisted of a newsreel, sometimes a travelogue, on Saturday afternoons a serial ending with a cliffhanger, a Disney or Warner Brothers cartoon, and then the feature.

After we moved to Arlington when I was 11, the Glebe theater was just a couple blocks away and kids got in for a quarter.

I saw all the famous monster and science fiction movies there: Creature from the Black Lagoon, This Island Earth, Forbidden Planet, Invasion of the Body Snatchers, The Incredible Shrinking Man, Godzilla, some of them about space, others about about monsters created or awakened by atomic testing.

Wizard… And of course cartoons, mostly from the s. There were a few kid shows in the evening too, just before dinnertime: the Lone Ranger, Zorro, Robin Hood, and Superman.

And later, the Wonderful World of Disney, which almost caused the extinction of the racoon when they showed Davy Crockett in four episodes in "Born on a mountaintop in Tennessee, kilt him a bar when he was only three But I think it must have been during the brief time that Dennis and I were both in school, before we moved to Arlington, that she was alone in the house doing the wash, feeding the wet clothes through the power ringer, when somehow her arm was pulled into the ringer up to the shoulder and there was no way she could get it out.

Finally our next-door neighbor Mary Walker heard her calling for help and freed her. Her whole arm was black and blue after that but eventually it healed OK.

Pressure cooker Another awful accident was a pressure-cooker exploding in her face. I only remember that it happened, but not the details.

Anyway, no permanent damage. Pressure cookers were the ss version of the Slow Cooker, but much more dangerous; she would buy cheap tough meat and put it in the pressure cooker with potatoes and cabbage for a long time and it would come out tender.

There was no kindergarten, let alone pre-K, where we lived. But my Mom wanted me to learn to read and write and do arithmetic starting when I was 4 or 5, so while Dad was at work she'd spend a few hours with me each day reading from books.

For arithmetic she made flashcards, and for handwriting… When she was a girl penmanship was very important, and she did have beautiful handwriting.

As a child she had to spend hours every day practicing overlapping curliques on lined paper, so I did some of that. Thanks to all these lessons, I was pretty advanced when I started school and usually did well.

My Mom was so quiet and self-effacing that as a child I never appreciated how many technical skills she had; I knew her as "just a Mom".

Because of the postwar baby boom and the mushrooming DC suburbs, there were two grades to a room, and there were two shifts, morning and afternoon, so there were four classes in each room each day.

One year my class was in the basement of the church. Mostly farm kids went this school then; probably half the kids were in the 4-H Club, which in those days was mainly about raising farm animals, growing vegetables, canning and preserving, etc.

Once a year there would be a fair at the school where the 4-H kids would bring the calfs or pumpkins or jam in hopes of a blue ribbon. Virginia witch face One of my most enduring memories of Chesterbrook school comes from the fact that every classroom had huge maps that could be pulled down, like windowshades, to cover the blackboard, such as a USA map, a world map, or a map of Virginia.

Usually the Virginia one was showing and all I could see when I looked at it was a scary witch face! Every day, year after year.

And speaking of windowshades, the classrooms also had blackout shades left over from WWII that could make the room totally dark, perfect for showing movies, which happened from time to time; they'd wheel in an old movie projector and show some US Department of Agriculture or Health educational film.

The best part was when it was over we'd all scream to show it backwards in fast motion instead rewinding it directly reel-to-reel, so that way we'd see people running around backwards, taking food out of their mouths with a spoon, even a slimy baby calf being sucked up into its mother's butt.

Chesterbrook School annex, Quonset huts, incinerator In to accommodate the growing population, they added a new wing with lots of classrooms and a cafeteria.

The first few years I brought lunch but started eating in the cafeteria in 4th or 5th grade; I think it cost a quarter.

Good southern home-style farm cooking, cooked by ladies from the nearby farms… Mashed potatos, fried chicken, fresh string beans or greens… Corn fritters One day they made corn fritters kind of like zeppolis but made with cornmeal and with corn kernels mixed in, served with powdered sugar or syrup, crunchy on the outside and soft and chewy on the inside ; they were so good I pestered my mom for weeks to make them, and finally I guess she found the lady who cooked them and got the recipe.

Another thing about school cafeterias in those days was they never served meat on Fridays; either it was no meat at all, or else fish. I don't think that happens any more but it used to be universal.

Smithfield hams When I brought lunch it was always the same: a Smithfield Ham salad sandwich on homemade bread we couldn't afford store-bought. The university also has a number of projects and initiatives dedicated to bringing Poland and Germany together, and offers its students pro bono Polish courses.

Another project that contributes to German—Polish integration in Frankfurt Oder is the Fforst House, [13] a German-Polish student project, which has been granted support by the town's administration [14] and by the Viadrina , [15] having been described by the former president of the university, Gesine Schwan , as the place where "Europe begins".

Frankfurt Oder is twinned with:. The Oderturm , tallest building in Frankfurt an der Oder. The Paulinenhof settlement, built in the s for railway employees.

From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia. Redirected from Frankfurt oder. This article is about the town in Brandenburg.

For the city in Hesse, see Frankfurt. For other uses, see Frankfurt disambiguation. Place in Brandenburg, Germany.

Coat of arms. Location of Frankfurt Oder. Main article: Viadrina European University. See also: List of twin towns and sister cities in Germany.

Brick Gothic St. Mary's Church. Germany portal. Dezember ". Amt für Statistik Berlin-Brandenburg in German.

July Juli , p. Seenland Oder-Spree in German. Retrieved 12 July Academic International Press, p. Archived from the original on 1 December Retrieved 18 November

Wildall Frankfurt Oder

Wildall Frankfurt Oder - Alle Kontaktdaten

Der Unterschied zwischen Naturvölkern und der westlichen Kultur besteht darin, dass die rituelle Vernarbung einen psychologischen Sinn beinhaltet. Eine anerkannte Berufsausbildung gibt es für Tätowierer nicht. Der Nutzung von im Rahmen der Impressumspflicht veröffentlichten Kontaktdaten durch Dritte zur Übersendung von nicht ausdrücklich angeforderter Werbung und Informationsmaterialien wird hiermit ausdrücklich widersprochen. Die Implants bestehen aus Teflon oder Silikon und werden in immer mehr Piercingstudios angeboten. Do nnerstag Dann kommt es schon mal vor, dass die Profis im Piercingstudio etwas wieder in Ordnung bringen müssen. Transdermales Implantat ist der Fachbegriff, wobei eine winzige Metallplatte unter die Haut gebracht wird. Der schwarze oder bunte Körperschmuck kann rituelles Symbol, Abgrenzung oder gar Protest sein. Club Casino Modrica es früher vor allem Bauchnabelpiercings, wanderte der Schmuck später Beyblade Spiele Online die Lippen. Für Www.Spiele Kostenlos Spielen.De Verzierungen ist bei vielen die Tätowierung noch die erste Wahl. Für die westlichen Liebhaber liegt der Reiz darin, ganz besonderen Körperschmuck zu besitzen. Route planen. Wildall Frankfurt Oder Piercing | ⌚ Öffnungszeiten | ✉ Adresse | ☎ Telefonnummer | ☆ 2 Bewertungen | ➤ Große Scharrnstr. 29 - Frankfurt, Oder. April , Uhr•Frankfurt Von Nataliya Ganz steril: Der Piercer im Frankfurter Studio Wildall nennt sich Frank R. und arbeitet immer mit.

Wildall Frankfurt Oder -

Fr eitag Die professionellen Tätowierer wollen die Zufriedenheit der Kunden und bei einem Kunstwerk auf der Haut sollte man sich das lieber zwei Mal überlegen.

The sustainable paper is made using a cultivated fibre and does not contribute to deforestation. Linen Anyone who spends a copious amount of time looking at interiors on Instagram — and has a penchant for Scandinavian design I may or may not be talking about myself!

Looking around the fair, I came across several beautiful garments made of linen including table cloths by LinenMe who specialise in earthy, muted tones and the odd crisp white — just as linen is meant to be!

Glass Although many may think of glass as manmade, there are numerous forms found in the natural world. I spotted these beautiful wall-mounted glass plant holders by Danish brand House Doctor.

Waste is causing a huge concern. I therefore felt immensely encouraged by the number of designers experimenting with new ways to use old materials.

The Danish designer behind Dutch brand Kinta strives to design interior products that celebrate craftsmanship, natural materials and timeless design.

They work closely with local makers, ensuring that the production is ethical and sustainable. Several of their pots and vases are made from recycled plastic bottles.

I was especially fascinated by their upcycled wine bottles! All this talk of bringing nature into your home — but what about taking your home out to nature?

I walk away from Ambiente with a smile on my face, a spring in my step and truly inspired by what the future holds for the world of interiors.

Niki Brantmark, My Scandinavian Home. There may be an issue with the Instagram access token that you are using.

Your server might also be unable to connect to Instagram at this time. Search Search for:. Ich stimme dem Datenschutzhinweis der Messe Frankfurt zu.

I agree with the data privacy statement of Messe Frankfurt. Skip to content DE EN. DE EN. Arte Regal. Verti Copenhagen.

Made by Bent. Van der Leeden Mandwerk. Verso Design. House Doctor. Aveva Design. This could also interest you. High-tech meets handcrafted. Swinging Mixes.

From Japanese kaiseki to Frankfurt green sauce. New favourites for life. Addicted to Japan. Fun Meets Function. Yes, we cook! With the newest cookware.

The fascination of the desert. Co-living: At home in a hotel. Natural living, happy living. Follow us on Instagram ambientefair.

Inspired by nature. Discover fundamental. Another Trend precise and architectural desi. Precise aesthetics in pure white.

Table settings t. One more stopp at the Living area in Hall 9. Security, cosiness and style — with the ambient.

Natural authenticity in simple perfection with sub. Load More Piercingstudio Das Wildall. Eintrag gefunden unter: Piercing Frankfurt Oder. Webseite E-Mail senden.

Hier aktualisieren. Aufgrund der aktuellen Krise können Öffnungszeiten abweichen. Bitte nehmen Sie vorher Kontakt auf.

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