Childhood memories: On regimen

From the time I outgrew my baby fat until a few years ago, I could be considered skinny.

Yeah, kind of.

This is why the doctors decided to pull me away from my family, friends and school, to send me away for six weeks of regimen. They claimed I looked malnourished, despite my desperate Mum claiming that I had enough food, but simply wouldn't gain weight.

Regarding my recurring attacks of bronchitis in winter, and acting on the assumption that the sea air is good for the health, especially considering the lungs, they sent me to Föhr, a small island in the very North of Germany, only a stone's throw off the Danish border.
In February.

And while the aim was to improve my health (i.e. me to gain weight), I got ill.
It was cold. It was dark and rainy.
All the other five girls in the same dormitory had the measles.
I had chickenpox.
And I was homesick.

Actually, the food was not capable for me to gain weight. It was... aww, no, let's leave it at that. I got an idea of what you get to eat when you're dispeptic.
The only edible meal was on the last day: Chicken and French fries. And red fruit jelly. It was a feast!
And it was then, preparing the festivities, when I had my first appearance on stage, in front of an audience (of children. But - hey, what the heck?).
I had to wait for another 26 years to get that thrill again.

Was there nothing else positive during my stay on Föhr?
I'm sorry to say: not much.

I remember the big white scary house in a dark windy night, when we arrived.

I remember having been asked if I was a small girl or a big girl, when I went for the dining-hall. What a silly question! I would have answered "Big girl!" anyway, even if I had been three years old at that time.
I was the youngest at the "big girl table".

I remember the souvenirs I bought for me and as presents: A small yellow shiny vase, a small dark grey vase with fine orange lines engraved in it, and - my treasure - a small box of plastic with a kind of undersea scenario with sand, some stones and a dried starfish and sea urchin sceleton. How I loved that! I kept it until it got too smelly...

I remember when I had recovered from chickenpox, that I discovered the library - which completely made my day. It was there that I read Astrid Lindgren for the very first time: The Six Bullerby Children (or "The Children of Noisy Village"). I loved that and read and re-read it over and over again when I got home. I guess Lindgrens stories formed my perception of an idyllic setting...
(which was obviously not on the island of Föhr)

Early 1970s. Me being the second to the right, in front, with the horrible plaid pants.