“Did you speak to your Rents?” I asked Con a bit later, business has been a bit better today, I guess the thin sunshine has encouraged a few extra bodies out for the day.
“Sort of, in passing.”
“Sort of?”
“Well I just mentioned it had been slow all day.”
“And?”
“That was it really, you had any more ideas how to whip up some extra business?”
“Well not really, Mum's got some barm pot idea though.”
“What's barm pot?” Kris asked.
I had to think twice, why did I say that? “er, you know, daft.”
“She's been reading English books again,” Con suggested, “so what is this daft idea then?”
“It really is stupid,” I opined.
“Well try us,” she insisted.
“You asked for it, well you remember the gig idea?”
“Yeah,” Con allowed.
“Well, she reckons if we promoted it as a charity thing it would get some support, the band get exposure, the charity gets funds and we hoover up some extra business.”
“Sounds good to me,” Kris put in.
“Wait for it, there's more,” I went on, “then she said we should do a series of them, how daft can you get?”
“Like every week?” Con queried.
“No, she was on about alternate weeks.”
“Whats so daft about that?”
“Well, just supposing I could get the guys interested, they won't want to do it every fortnight and what charity would be interested to get involved?”
“Lots of charities, they all want donations,” Kris pointed out.
“Yeah,” I agreed, “but its a pretty half baked idea, it'd take loads of organising, we'd need permits and stuff, lets face it, its a bit beyond us, we're supposed to be doing the Weihnachtsmarkt remember.”
Con sighed, “i hadn't forgotten.”
“What about the New Year?” Kristin posed.
“What about it?” I asked.
“Well, there'd be time to organise stuff, there's never much happening so I'm sure people would come out.” the hired help pointed out.
“What if it snows or something?”
“Well you could probably hire one of those marquee things, cover the garden area.”
“She might have something there,” Con mentioned.

Still sounds a bit far fetched to me.

“I bet there's loads of people would help if its for charity,” Kris opined.
“We can talk to mum and dad later,” my BF enthused, “you are coming for Tatort tonight?”
 

I thought that my riding companions might've stopped at the the Kiosk but apparently they met Dad at Adenauer for lunch which is why he took off this morning.

“See you later,” Con called back into the car, well it would've been a bit peevish not to give her a ride back to Dernau wouldn't it.
“Yeah, later.”
We set off to complete our journey, “i take it you're going round for your telly programme?” Dad suggested, “you eating there?”
“Er yes to both,” I agreed.
“We're taking your sister out to dinner, they're driving back first thing.”

I'd forgotten about Jules and Boris, they went up to stop at his parents yesterday, i've hardly seen them apart from after the gig and Friday night.

“I can cancel with Con?”
“Up to you, I don't suppose anyone would mind you not coming.”

We pulled up at Bond Acres, why's life so complicated?
 
“See you in December Sis,” Jules told me as we hugged.
“Yeah, take care down there.”
“And you.”

We broke our hug and I set off for Thesing's and an evening of terrible telly and excellent food.
 

As usual Therese did us proud with a full on blow out, Beef Strogonoff this week, pretty much all from scratch, no Knorr packet or anything, well I think the pasta was bought but like everyone uses packet pasta. We had a citrus torte for dessert after which I made coffee while Con put the dishwasher into action.

“Guys?” Con started once we were settled in front of the TV, “you know the kiosk?”

And so, with a bit of input from me, Con explained the whole concert thing to her parents.

“Sounds like a good idea,” Thomas opined once Con had outlined Mums proposal.
“And you'll keep it open right through?” Therese asked.
“I guess,” Con allowed.
“Well its your decision girls, you're in charge but i've a proposal for you.”
“'kay,” Con agreed.

I nodded my consent.

“This is only an idea,” Therese mentioned again, “keep it open until the end of the month, then close at the weekends until January, that'll give you a bit more leeway with the market. Then in January reopen with these concerts, I'm sure there are enough people who'll help with organising stuff, Herr Sebenschuh for example. Easter all the tourists will be back so it'll be back to full service.”
“What about the girls, they'll be out of a job for like six weeks,” I pointed out.
“If its just Kristin and Nena i think we could redeploy them to the bakery if they wanted to, you know it gets fairly busy here,” Herr T suggested.
“What about me and Gab?”
“Don't worry about me,” I put in, “I'll be away for part of December anyway.”
“Not Japon again?” Tomas queried.
“No such luck, its a team training camp down south somewhere.”
“So what do you think?” Therese asked.
“Works for me,” I told the assembly of Thesing's.
“Con?”
“Well it would be nice to have a bit of a break from it.”
“That's settled then,” Tomas stated, “i'll talk to a few people, see what hoops we need to jump through.”
 

For the first time, probably since I left Silverberg Gymnasium in the Spring, my life took on a more predictable and settled pattern. College down in Koblenz Monday to Friday, and for the time being Saturday and Sunday at the Kiosk. Of course there's Cheer practice on Mondays, Garde on Fridays and slotted around all this, my mostly indoor bike training.

Preparations for the Weihnachtsmarkt moved ahead surprisingly easily, the workload spread between many hands – I even managed to fit in some Max time! As for the charity gigs, well I struck a deal with BlauHase, I do their Neu Jahre gig in Bonn and they sort out the bands – guess I won't spend New Year in a castle this time around. Yeah, everything was going hunky dory.
 
“You got a minute kiddo?” Dad enquired from the cellar steps as I put another load into the washer.
“Er sure, let me just put this on and I'll be with you.”
“In the study,” he advised before disappearing.

Wonder what he wants me for? We have talked about me doing a limited cross season through December and into January, maybe thats it. I finished stuffing socks and knickers into the machine, put the soap in and set the well used machine into action. Okay Dad, I'm all yours.
 

“What do you know about Artistic Cycling?” Dad enquired when I joined him in the office.
“What's that? You have to draw pictures or something?”
“Not exactly, more like gymnastics but on a bike.”
“They do that on BMXers yeah, freestyle or something, there were some kids into it when we went to Virginia.”
He raised a brow, very 007, “have a look at this.”

A moment later I was watching a video clip on his laptop.
 
“How the heck is she doing that? Huh, never! On one wheel?”

It was clearly a pretty amateurish bit of filming but it showed what the girl was doing well enough. I guess bike gymnastics about sums it up, unlike the BMXers I saw whose tricks were all jumping and chucking the bike about, the girl was using her bike as a platform for some pretty impressive balance and control moves. How she was doing it, practice I guess and not a crash hat or skinsuit in sight, well okay she was wearing a leotard and tights but you get the idea.

“So what do you reckon?” Dad asked once the clip ended.
“Different, how did she balance like that?”
“No idea kiddo but how'd you fancy finding out?”
“Erm.”
“Not my idea, your friend Herr Obermeyer has suggested it.”
“Frank? Whatever for, I do road.”
“Well I don't think he wants you to change from that but he thinks you might benefit from doing something different over the winter.”
“I'm gonna do the cross aren't I?”
“I think he wants to stretch you a bit, cross is only road with mud for the most part.”
“I guess,” I allowed.
“He'd like you to attend the next training session for the National squad, its the day before the training camp.”
“There's a National team for this?”
“So I'm told, its in the pipeline to come under the UCI in the next couple of years. So what do you reckon?”
“Dunno,”
“You might enjoy something different,” he hinted.
“I do Garde and Cheer.”
“So you're halfway there already, you have good bike skills and control from the dance stuff, this'll put the two together.”
“What about Mand?”
“This is the Federation not Apollinaris kiddo.”
Well I guess it'll score some Brownie points with HQ, “go on then, I'll be no good at it though.”
 

I lay in bed, staring up at the stars through the rooflight. Artistic cycling, whatever next? Its clearly very skillfull but its hardly real cycling is it? And what use is the ability to do a handstand on the saddle in a proper race? I suppose it won't hurt to humour Frank for a day but really, what a waste of time.

To be honest, the vid Dad showed me was quite intrigueing, how would you even think its a thing? How would you get into it even? I mean, road or track or even cross, they're on the telly, you see people riding, I can see that. But this Artistic stuff, you certainly don't see it on the TV or people doing it on the street, do they do it in circuses? Guess I might find out at this 'training' day.

But thats a couple of weeks away, in the meantime I need to do some cyclocross training. Hmm, if I take my crosser up to the all weather pitch tomorrow I can get a couple of hours in, they've got lights and I won't get covered in mud. Have to get Dad to check one of the bikes out to use, I'll leave him a note in the morning.

And so Gaby 'normal' took on another new element.
 

“Sounds like an intriguing idea,” Lisbet mentioned as we shared a few minutes for coffee.
“Well it was Mum's idea really but its sort of taken off on its own now.”
“Like mother, like daughter.”
“Hardly!” I snorted.
She shook her head, “Gaby Bond, why can't you just accept compliments? There's nothing wrong in accepting praise when its due.”
“And if it isn't? Due that is.”
“You'll know the difference,” my lecturer told me.
I sighed, “its not like i do anything special, I'm not the only one involved with this or the Weihnachtsmarkt.”
“You say that but from what i've seen and heard, things happen around you.”
“Disasters usually.”
“Not disasters Gaby, I don't know what it is but you have it, you inspire others.”
“I'd prefer to just be ordinary.”
“Somehow Gabrielle Bond I don't think you'll ever be 'just ordinary', she told me with air quotes.
“No,” I sighed in agreement.
“Oh, whilst I think about it, you're training camp is signed off by the office.”
“Er thanks.”
“I'll make sure there are lecture notes for you when you get back.”
“I'm not missing anything important am I?”
“No, no tests and the seminar will only be going over the stuff we've been covering this semester and you're well up with all of that.”
“I am?”
“Gaby, trust me, some of your course mates are already struggling, you on the other hand seem to grasp everything at the first pass. Missing what is essentially revision won't hurt you at all.”
 

I can't deny that my conversation with Frau Olafsdottir lifted my spirits somewhat, I'm not one to brag but that doesn't mean I don't appreciate what she was saying. Maybe I should take more credit, be more prideful – nah, I'll let my actions do the talking, braggarts don't have many friends and I value mine, I don't know where i'd be without them.
 

“Happy Birthday dear Manda, happy birthday to you!”

Yep, Mand turned seventeen today, so we're having a bit of a family party, well she's sort of an honory Angel so the girls are here, Bern too, well she doesn't get out much what with Drea and living out at Staffel. Which in turn means Marty is here, so Freddy and Max ended up being invited too.
Miss de Vreen took a deep breath and blew out the candles in one.

“Make a wish,” Bern prompted.
“I wish....”
“Don't tell us,” Pia quickly put in, “or it won't come true.”
“Really?” Bridg stated.
“Presents!” I chirped, okay they're not for me but its still the fun bit of birthday parties right?

Well we're a bunch of teenage girls, the gifts have a tendency to sparkles and smelliness and this gathering didn't let down on that score. Not that everything gifted fell into that category, someone donated a gift card, there was a tin of sweets and I got her a half decent multitool when we were at that Rose place last week – well she's been moaning about the one she's been using for ages.

“One more,” Mum advised as Mand sorted her spoils from the packaging.
“More?” Mand queried.
“Here, from me and Dave, Happy Birthday Manda.” Mum passed her the parcel and gave her a quick hug.
“Well open it then,” Steffi chivvied – its not just me that enjoys the whole gift thing.

It looked suspiciously like a shoe box inside the wrapping paper and so it proved to be, not a pair of girly heels or 'work' shoes, nope the box was easily identified with the DIADORA logo in huge letters across the top.

“Mrs B, I can't.”
“No such word and yes you can, they're a gift, no strings, we do the same with Gaby and Jules.”
“But they're...”
“Mand, you might not be our daughter but you most certainly are part of the family. Now loose those tears and enjoy the rest of the evening.”
 
Well I don't think any of the others quite appreciated how a pair of bike shoes could set Mand a snivelling. Its probably as well they don't know they cost best bit of two hundred euros either, they'd almost certainly think my parents were loopy. Of course there are cheaper shoes but if you are a serious rider its worth the extra to get the fit and comfort.

At this point my rents made themselves scarce for the evening – something about drinks at Max's abode, anyhow that means we can actually hear the music. The alcohol purloined from the Rheinhalle didn't go too far but extra supplies arrived in various Handtusche. Okay, its not exactly an alcohol fuelled riot, but it is a proper party.

“You gonna sing Gab?” Steff asked once cake had been consumed.
“I already did.” I pointed out as I examined Mand's new bike shoes.
“Happy Birthday doesn't count, we were all singing that,” Nena told me.
“Yeah come on Gab, just one?” Bern proposed.
“I haven't got any music.”
“Never stopped you before,” the birthday girl pointed out.

What can you do when your adoring fans beg like that?

“Okay, but just one, what do you want Mand?”
She thought for a moment, “Bicycle Race? You're always singing it and it is kind of appropriate.”
“If that's what you want.”
“Do we know this,” Bridg asked.
“You must've heard her singing it,” Bern observed with a grin.
“Here goes,” I took a deep breath and counted myself in.

 
So of course it didn't end at one song, of course not. I warbled through Red Balloons, half in English, half German and finally called a halt after I Feel Like A Woman. It felt pretty good, everyone was joining in by the last song, yeah it can be quite an ego trip this singing lark.

Singing over it reverted to a typical teen gathering, a couple of people swaying to the canned music but most of the attendees sat talking. The 'Preisers' were all lovey dovey, I don't think Mart's 'rents exactly frown on them getting jiggy but with Drea around and the house isn't that big. Know the problem, getting proper couple time with Max isn't exactly easy even if we do commute together.

It was after eleven before most people departed, the Rents were back and I dragged Max outside for a bit of privacy.
 
© Maddy Bell 26.02.2019