A little family story from last weekend: We (dad, Volker and I) were about to pick up Volker's mother for a day in her garden. A tradition that they still keep every weekend. I waited outside, Dad was at the door, when I heard them arguing on the stairway. It was something trivial - some simple misunderstanding about who should bring the potatoes for lunch - but Volker and grandma were shouting and stressing and generally spitting poison at each other. I was standing some distance away from the house, in the sun, trying to absorb as much of its energy as I could. When they came outside, I was expected to say hello according to family tradition: come forward, hand outstretched, a bit like greeting the mayor. I stood rooted to the spot, savouring a few seconds more in the sun. They'd have to come past me eventually, on their way to the car. Why hurry? Of course, Volker wasn't happy with this either. "That's right, take care not to come to close" he said in his best ironic tones. Sound advice. I think I'll heed it from now on.