- Düsse Siedenserie ward vun Reinhard F. Hahn (sassisch@geocities.com) rutgeven. Alle Warken sünd rechtlich schütt un dröfft nich ahn Verlööf (101477.2611@compuserve.com) wiedergeven warrn. De Serie is för Netscape 4.04 or beter maakt worrn. De Achtergrund is 'n Tackendook, dat vun Fru Kramer-Freudenthal ehr egene Hand maakt worrn is.
- This page series is being published by Reinhard F. Hahn (sassisch@geocities.com). All works are copyrighted and may not be distributed without permission (101477.2611@compuserve.com). The series has been designed for Netscape 4.04 or higher. The background is a handkerchief with lace border made by Ms. Kramer-Freudenthal's own hand.
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- © 1997, R. F. Hahn
Low Saxon in the original orthography: Stickbeern plücken
vun Clara Kramer-Freudenthal
(Oornmoond 1997)Güstern keum mien Heinz mit een lütte Schöttel, vull mit riepe Stickbeern, ut unsen Goorn. Hebb ik mi höögt! To giern eet ik riepe Stickbeern. Mien Mann sett sik mit an'n Disch un puul an sien Finger rüm un schimp düchtig: ,,Scheiß Stachelbeeren, warum müssen die auch soviel Dornen haben''. ,,Och mien lebe Mann, harrs uns Hannen un Arms mool sehn müßt, wenn wie Stickbeern för den Hambörger Grootmarkt plücken müssen'', sä ik un wüür bums mool warrer in mien Kinnertiet.
Stickbeern to plücken wüür keen Vergneugen! Ober watt mütt, dat mütt. In'n Maimoond müssen wi Kinner glieks no'n Middageten ran an de Stickbeernbüsch un de noch greunen, unriepen Stickbeern plücken. Se dreegt jümehrn Noom to recht; denn uns Hannen un Arms wüürn sobends totol tweikratzt vun de Duurn. Good hunnert Stickbeern- un Johannsbeernbüsch harr Pappa op de Wisch plant. Jo, uns Wisch wüür keen Weid' for Vehtüüch, nee, Pappa harr de Wisch mit Oof un Greuntüüch beplant. Harr allns good Schick, wat dor wassen dä. Tjer, dat wüür jo ok Maschbodden, anners as uns Sandbodden hier in Norderstedt. Purree, dick as so'n Kinnerarm, un de Sellerie wüürn groot as een Babykopp. Kunn veel optelln, ober ik will jo vun't Stickbeernplücken vertelln.
Wenn wi eten harrn müssen wi fuurts los mit Spoonkörf op uns Wisch. Een lütten Spoonkorf, de fief Pund foten dä, hebbt wi uns vör'n Buuk bunn'n, un wenn de vull wüür, wörr he in een groten Spoonkorf, de tominnst twölf, wenn nich gor föffteihn Pund foten kunn, utschütt. Wenn de Karkenklocken den Fierobend sobends Klock süß inlüüdt hebbt, güng dat to'n Obendbrot no Huus. Nie nich vergeet ik den Ruuch vun Speck un Broodkutüffeln, de uns al op de Achterdeel in de Meut keum. Gau de Hannen waschen, eten un Schoolopgoben moken. Uns Schoolmester Herr Kruse hett uns in de Tiet nie nich veel opgeben, wüß he doch, datt wi uns Öllern helpen müssen.
Ober nu güng de Arbeit wieder. Wenn de Afwasch doon wüür, wörrn de Stickbeern op'n Disch utschütt, denn se müssen noch afpuult warrn. Stingel un Bloom müssen rünner, denn geev dat twee Penn mihr för't Pund, un de Domen in Hamborg or de Mammelodenfobriken kunn glieks an't Wark gohn. Wi wüürn gans fix bi de Sook. Twüschen Duum' un Wiesfinger vun beide Hannen wörrn Stingel un Bloom miteens afknepen. No een poor Stünn füngen de Fingerkuppen so bilütten an weeh to doon. Nütz ober allns nix, de Stickbeern müssen trecht ween, wenn Oofhöker Otto Stüwe se an annern Morgen afhooln wörr, üm jüm in Hamborg an den Meßbarg to verkäupen. Foken sünd uns de Ogen dorbi tofulln. De School güng den annern Dag ok al Klock söben an. Vun den Oostermoond bet to den Wienmoond müssen wi vun Klock söben bet Klock twölf, un vun den Nebelmoond bet to'n Lenzmoond iers Klock acht bet Klock een in de School ween.
Wenn wi mit uns Stickbeern trecht wüürn, hebbt wi ok noch bi uns Nobers holpen. No Tant Bertha sünd wi opleevst gohn, de harr ümmer so scheune Plätten backt, dor meuk dat Afpuuln richtig Spoos. So as ümmer hebbt wi vertellt, or ok sungen. Walter Baars (Bartels) kunn so good op de Muulorgel speeln, un wi hebbt dorto sungen. Wüür ümmer gans kommodig.
Wi hebbt dat würklich nich as Arbeit ansehn. Wüür dat nu Kinnerarbeit? Dor hett in mien Kinnertiet keeneen an dacht, dat wüür nu mool so, de Arbeit müß doon warrn, un uns güng dat alltohoop liek. Schoden hett uns dat wis nich doon.
English translation by R. F. Hahn: Picking Gooseberries
by Clara Kramer-Freudenthal
(August 1997)Yesterday my Heinz came [in] from our garden with a small bowl of ripe gooseberries. My husband sat down at the table, picked around at his finger and cursed [in German], "Damn gooseberries! Why do they have to have that many prickles?" "Oh, my dear man, you should have seen our hands and arms when we used to have to pick gooseberries for the Hamburg Wholesale Market," I said and was - swoosh! - back in my childhood days again.
Picking gooseberries was no pleasure! But what had to be done had to be done. In May, right after lunch we children would have to go to the gooseberry bushes to pick the still green, unripe gooseberries. There is a good reason for their name, because in the evening our hands and arms used to be scratched all over by the prickles. Daddy had planted a good hundred gooseberry and currant bushes on the meadow. Right, our meadow was no paddock for animals. No, Daddy had planted fruit-bearing plants and vegetables all over the meadow. Everything that would grow there would be in good shape. Well, it was marshy soil after all, nothing like the sandy soil here in Norderstedt. Leeks [used to be] as thick as a child's arm, and the celeriac roots used to be the size of an infant's head. I could go on about it, but I was going to tell [you] about picking gooseberries.
Right after eating we would have to be on our way to our meadow with chipbaskets. To our fronts we would tie a small chipbasket holding five pounds, and when it was full we would pour its contents into a large chipbasket that held at least twelve pounds, if not fifteen. When in the evening at six o'clock the church bells rang in knocking-off time we would go home for supper. I will never forget the aroma of bacon and fried potatoes that would meet us already on the back porch. Washing our hands in a hurry, eating and doing homework. Our teacher, Mr. Kruse, did not give us many assignments during that season, since he knew that we had to help our parents.
But there used to be more work to be done. After the dishes had been washed the gooseberries would be poured out onto the table, because they would need to be cleaned. Stalks and flowers would have to be removed. You would get another two pfennigs for the pound then, and the ladies in Hamburg or the jam factories would be able to use them right away. We would be quick about our business. Stalks and flowers would be removed between thumb and forefinger in one go. After a few hours our fingertips would start hurting. No use complaining. The gooseberries would have to be finished when the fruit vendor Otto Stuewe would pick them up to sell them at Messberg [then site of the Produce Wholesale Market] in Hamburg the following morning. Oftentimes our eyes would fall shut in the process. School would begin the following morning at seven o'clock already. From April to October we would have to be in school between seven and noon and from November to March as late as between eight and one.
When we would be done with the gooseberries [at home] we would also help our neighbors. Our favorite was to go to Auntie Bertha's place. She used to bake such nice cookies. Cleaning [berries] used to be real fun there. As usual, we would tell [stories] and also sing [songs]. Walter Baars ([German:] Bartels) used to play the harmonica really beautifully, and we would sing along with it. It used to be really a cosy atmosphere.
Really, we did not consider it work. Was it a case of child labor? Nobody used to think about that kind of thing in my childhood days. That is how things used to be; the work had to be done, and that is how it used to be for all of us. It certainly did not do us any harm.
Transliteration in Lowlands Orthography: Stikberen pluekken
fun Clara Kramer-Freudenthal
(Aarnmaand 1997)Guestern koym miin Heinz mit 'n luette schoettel ful mit ripe stikberen uut unsen gaarn. Hev ik mii heugd! Tou geirn eet ik ripe Stikberen. Miin man set sik mit an d'n disch un puul an siin finger ruem un schimp duechtig: "Scheiss-Stachelbeeren! Warum muessen die auch soviel Dornen haben?" "Och, miin leive man, harst uns handen un arms maal sein muest wen wii stikberen foer d'n Hamboerger Grootmarkt pluekken muessen," see ik un woyr - bums! - maal warrer in miin kindertiid.
Stikberen tou pluekken woyr kein fergnoygen! Aver wat muett dat muett. In d'n Maimaand muessen wii kinder gliiks naa d'n middag-eten ran an de stikberenbuesch un de noch groynen, unriipen stikberen pluekken. Sei dreegt juem eren naam tou recht, den uns handen un arms woyren 's avends totaal twei-kratsd fun de dournen. Goud hunnerd stikberen- un johansberenbuesch har Pappa op de wisch plantt. Jaa, uns wisch woyr kein waid' foer feituyg. Nei, Pappa har de wisch mit aavt un groyntuyg beplantt. Har allens goud schik wat daar wassen dee. Tjer, dat woyr jaa ouk maschbodden, anners as uns sandbodden hiir in Norderstedt. Purree dik as soo 'n kinder-arm, un de selleri woyrn groot as 'n babykop. Kun feil op-tellen, aver ik wil jaa fun 't stikberenpluekken fertellen.
Wen wii eten harren muessen wii fourts loos mit spaankoerv op uns wisch. 'n Luetten spaankorv dei fiiv pund faten dei hebt wii uns foer d'n buuk bunden, un wen dei ful woyr woyrd' hei in 'n groten spaankorv, dei touminst twoelv wen nich gaar foevtain pund faten kun, uut-schuett. Wen de karkenklokken d'n fier-avend 's avends klok suess in-luydt hebt gueng dat tou'n avendbrood naa huus. Nii nich fergeet ik d'n ruuch fun spek un braadkutueffeln dei uns al op de achterdeel in de moyt koym. Gau de handen waschen, eten un schoolopgaven maken. Uns schoolmeister, Herr Kruse, het uns in de tiid nii nich feil op-geven; wuess hei doch dat wii uns oeldern helpen muessen.
Aver nuu gueng de arbaid wider. Wen de afwasch doun woyr woerden de stikberen op d'n disch uut-schuett, den sei muessen noch af-puuld warden. Stingel un bloumen muessen ruenner; den geev' dat twei pen meir foer 't pund, un de damen in Hamborg or de mammeladenfaabriken kunnen gliiks an 't wark gaan. Wii woyren ganss fiks bii de saak. Twueschen dumen un wiisfinger fun baide handen woerden stingel un bloumen mit eins af-knepen. Naa 'n paar stuenden fuengen de fingerkuppen soo bii luetten an wei tou doun. Nuets aver allens niks. De stikberen muessen trecht ween wen aavtheuker Otto Stüwe sei an d'n annern morgen af-halen woer uem juem in Hamborg an d'n Messbarg tou ferkoypen. Faken suend uns de ougen daarbii tou-fullen. De school gueng d'n annern dag ouk al klok seuven an. Fun d'n Oostermaand bet tou d'n Wiinmaand muessen wii fun klok seuven bet klok twoelv un fun d'n Nevelmaand bet tou d'n Lenss-maand eirst klok acht bet klok ein in de school ween.
Wen wii mit uns stikberen trecht woyren hebt wii ouk noch bii uns navers holpen. Naa Tant Bertha suend wii opleivst gaan. Dei har uemmer soo schoyne pletten bakd. Daar moyk dat af-pulen richtig spaass. Soo as uemmer hebt wii ferteld or ouk sungen. Walter Baars (Bartels) kun soo goud op de muul-orgel spelen, un wii hebt daar tou sungen. Woyr uemmer ganss kommodig.
Wii hebt dat wuerklich nich as arbaid an-sein. Woyr dat nuu kinder-arbaid? Daar het in miin kindertiid kein ein an dacht. Dat woyr nuu maal soo; de arbaid muess doun warden, un uns gueng dat altouhoup liik. Schaden het uns dat wiss nich doun.
English translation by R. F. Hahn: Picking Gooseberries
by Clara Kramer-Freudenthal
(August 1997)Yesterday my Heinz came [in] from our garden with a small bowl of ripe gooseberries. My husband sat down at the table, picked around at his finger and cursed [in German], "Damn gooseberries! Why do they have to have that many prickles?" "Oh, my dear man, you should have seen our hands and arms when we used to have to pick gooseberries for the Hamburg Wholesale Market," I said and was - swoosh! - back in my childhood days again.
Picking gooseberries was no pleasure! But what had to be done had to be done. In May, right after lunch we children would have to go to the gooseberry bushes to pick the still green, unripe gooseberries. There is a good reason for their name, because in the evening our hands and arms used to be scratched all over by the prickles. Daddy had planted a good hundred gooseberry and currant bushes on the meadow. Right, our meadow was no paddock for animals. No, Daddy had planted fruit-bearing plants and vegetables all over the meadow. Everything that would grow there would be in good shape. Well, it was marshy soil after all, nothing like the sandy soil here in Norderstedt. Leeks [used to be] as thick as a child's arm, and the celeriac roots used to be the size of an infant's head. I could go on about it, but I was going to tell [you] about picking gooseberries.
Right after eating we would have to be on our way to our meadow with chipbaskets. To our fronts we would tie a small chipbasket holding five pounds, and when it was full we would pour its contents into a large chipbasket that held at least twelve pounds, if not fifteen. When in the evening at six o'clock the church bells rang in knocking-off time we would go home for supper. I will never forget the aroma of bacon and fried potatoes that would meet us already on the back porch. Washing our hands in a hurry, eating and doing homework. Our teacher, Mr. Kruse, did not give us many assignments during that season, since he knew that we had to help our parents.
But there used to be more work to be done. After the dishes had been washed the gooseberries would be poured out onto the table, because they would need to be cleaned. Stalks and flowers would have to be removed. You would get another two pfennigs for the pound then, and the ladies in Hamburg or the jam factories would be able to use them right away. We would be quick about our business. Stalks and flowers would be removed between thumb and forefinger in one go. After a few hours our fingertips would start hurting. No use complaining. The gooseberries would have to be finished when the fruit vendor Otto Stuewe would pick them up to sell them at Messberg [then site of the Produce Wholesale Market] in Hamburg the following morning. Oftentimes our eyes would fall shut in the process. School would begin the following morning at seven o'clock already. From April to October we would have to be in school between seven and noon and from November to March as late as between eight and one.
When we would be done with the gooseberries [at home] we would also help our neighbors. Our favorite was to go to Auntie Bertha's place. She used to bake such nice cookies. Cleaning [berries] used to be real fun there. As usual, we would tell [stories] and also sing [songs]. Walter Baars ([German:] Bartels) used to play the harmonica really beautifully, and we would sing along with it. It used to be really a cosy atmosphere.
Really, we did not consider it work. Was it a case of child labor? Nobody used to think about that kind of thing in my childhood days. That is how things used to be; the work had to be done, and that is how it used to be for all of us. It certainly did not do us any harm.