Scents, a Childhood-Reminiscence or How to kill a Rabbit

August 29/06 7:04 p.m.

Scents can, at least with me, trigger off memories. Think, I'm guided a lot by my sense of smell. Today I was cutting tomatoes for a salad. Had bought them at the local market at a farmers stall, and that fruity, genuine fragrance reminded me of the garden of my childhood, where we grew vegetables, fruits and also those delicious tomatoes. In this garden, we also had a box with two rabbits, not for us kids to play with, by no means! You must know, that it had been war time, with not so much to eat (especially meat) anymore, so the rabbits were no cuddly playmates, but food for the Christmas dinner. Of course we kids loved to take them out and stroke them, but were only allowed to do so under surveillance. So, one afternoon mother had to go shopping into town, that beeing a half hours walk to get there and back, no folks, no cars at that time! Strict orders, to leave the rabbits alone, were disobied as soon as mother turned her back. My brother and myself thought, that we would be very smart, building a little arena out of bricks, so the rabbits, beeing still babies, could not get away. Everything went fine, till my brother, by stepping over the "wall" knocked over a brick,which, -plum - fell upon one of the rabbits. It fell over, twiched for a bit, blood ran out of its nose and it was a goner. We tried to revive it, by shacking it and massaging it, no deal, it stayed dead. So then we tried begging a replacement off neighbours ,(everyone in the vicinity had rabbits) but people were stingy (wartime, remember) ,so we had to face our mother and confess, which led to beeing locked into the bathroom and beeing beaten with a whip. Must have been at that time, that I made that oath, that ,should I ever have kids myself, would never lay hand on them. And I kept my promise. Well, once a while my hand probably slipped, but I never did beat them up. - Well, in defence of our mother, I must say, that she was suffering all her life from a nervous condition. For her, raising us without my fathers help (him beeing an officer in theGerman army and at war), must have been a handful, and we were rascals! - The picture shows little Landfrau in the garden, all dressed up, tomboy- pics were not taken at that time.

So, up to today, I wont eat rabbit, neither horse, but there is not the traumatic experience of killing one!