In which, here in the Baumhaus, tea is taken very seriously.

If only they had the power to make the neighbors below stop blasting Backstreet Boys directly under my bed well past I-wanna-go-to-sleep-already-midnight-o'clock.

In which we enjoy a late summer's lunch hour.

Hamburg in late summer. A rare day of sunshine, frozen clowns atop soap boxes, and a random street musisican pushing a piano around town. All the fixin's for a silent movie, except for the silence.