Me and Hitler.

The other day I was in town with my lovely younger sister. The plan was to visit a few exhibitions to see what was new for something to review. The first was rather dull and to quote my sister, 'like something you would see in a history museum' and as it was a Monday, and we met late in the afternoon, we also ended up missing the closing time of second one.

'Where next?' she asked me.

But that was all I had researched. I knew not where to go.

'Do you know of any photography ones?' I asked? (She is a photography graduate). She sighed and a very slight tension prevailed in the air around us. As so often with families, the mood can change quickly and dramatically and it can sometimes be hard to define why. However, co-incidence has taught me that perhaps it was my fault for something to do lack of planning and assertiveness. I am nothing if not suggestible and questioning at the best of times.

We ended up going home. Later then after dinner I was procrastinating on the lap top.

'What should I write about in my blog?! Someone tell me'. I whined loudly.

'Hayley! You have no original thought!' shot back my sister. Did I mention she is a fair bit younger than me?

I must say this stung a little. She mentioned the incident in town too, then the subject moved on. I was left staring at the blank screen in front of me, the cursor flashing, taunting me to write.There was no blog post that night.

The following day at work I was talking to a colleague who is a bit of a history buff. I was telling him about the exhibition but had very quickly exhausted my knowledge on the subject. It was clear he knew alot more than me so I ended my verbal review with the sentence ' it was like something you might see in a history museum'... I cringed a little inside. My sister's smug little face in the forefront of my mind.

We somehow then went on to discuss the book 'Hitler's Library', he explained what a prolific reader Hitler was and how influenced he was by so many authors, taking ideas and quotes from everywhere when it suited him. From religion and theology to architecture and cuisine, he was one impressionable little reader.

'God!' I said, 'He had no original thought, did he?'.