From the middle right North to the bottom left South Long time, my dear diary, It’s not that I just felt writing you, it’s more that the strong urge came up. Bad phone connection, no Wireless Lan on the train, lack of sleep, forty-nine Euro, my not so common name, various kinds of connections, fear and a police helicopter played roles in that. At least some kind of. But let’s start from the begin. We were cooking fot that orchestra-and-choir I had fallen in love with just last year. This weekend somewhere in the middle of Germany. A bit in the top of the middle. Actually the top right. Just for two and a half days, one diner on Friday, breakfast and lunch on Saturday, I had left in the middle of cutting lettuce into pieces. I was so nervous and found all those bad parts, which would look not appropriate in lunch anymore. Already the porree had curled up, got all entangled after I had split and washed it to get it soil and sand free. My two kitchen mates must have...