added marooned, colors, kofi button

blue-penguin-dark/static/css/main.css

@@ -394,6 +394,8 @@ footer {
     border-radius: 5px;
 }
 footer p { margin: 0; }
+.btn-container { display: inline-block; vertical-align: middle; padding: 8px; }
+.kofiimg { display: inline !important; margin: 0; box-shadow: none; border-radius: 0; }
 
 .right { float: right; }
 
@@ -463,3 +465,16 @@ footer p { margin: 0; }
 @page {
     margin: 1.5cm;
 }
+
+.pink { color: #f5bde6; }
+.mauve { color: #c6a0f6; }
+.red { color: #ed8796; }
+.maroon { color: #ee99a0; }
+.peach { color: #f5a97f; }
+.yellow { color: #eed49f; }
+.green { color: #a6da95; }
+.teal { color: #8bd5ca; }
+.sky { color: #91d7e3; }
+.sapphire { color: #7dc4e4; }
+.blue { color: #8aadf4; }
+.lavender { color: #b7bdf8; }

blue-penguin-dark/templates/base.html

@@ -99,6 +99,8 @@
             <div class="clear"></div>
             <footer>
                 <p>
+                <script type='text/javascript' src='https://ko-fi.com/widgets/widget_2.js'></script><script type='text/javascript'>kofiwidget2.init('Buy Me a Coffee', '#626FAC', 'U7U4NQ0Q');kofiwidget2.draw();</script>
+                &middot;
                 <a href="https://github.com/tcarwash/blue-penguin-dark">Blue Penguin Dark</a> Theme
                 &middot;
                 Powered by <a href="http://getpelican.com">Pelican</a>
@@ -110,6 +112,7 @@
                 &middot;
                 <a href="{{ SITEURL }}/{{ FEED_ALL_RSS }}" rel="alternate">Rss Feed</a>
                  {% endif %}
+                </p>
             </footer>
             {% endif %}
         </div>

content/20260516_dune.md

@@ -11,6 +11,6 @@ I clambered up the dune, the hardened surface layer crumbling underfoot and slow
 
 <!-- more -->
 
-From up here, I could see my parents and █████ at the foot of the bluff, stretched out on their beach sheet, basking in the sun, absorbed in their reading. As always, the whole scene looked almost unreal: the bright blue sky, the turquoise Atlantic stretching to the horizon, and below, the endless white beach set in stark contrast against the black volcanic landscape. God, how I have always loved this place.
+From up here, I could see my parents and <span class="sky">█████</span> at the foot of the bluff, stretched out on their beach sheet, basking in the sun, absorbed in their reading. As always, the whole scene looked almost unreal: the bright blue sky, the turquoise Atlantic stretching to the horizon, and below, the endless white beach set in stark contrast against the black volcanic landscape. God, how I have always loved this place.
 
 I hit play on my Walkman and let the low-slung trip-hop beat of [Tricky’s "Overcome"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J_r2HZqw06E) lumber into my consciousness, its ghostly string loop drenching me in seductive melancholia. Steeped in indefinable teenage emotions, I took in the whole moment, my mind gently drifting between all the childhood memories tied to this place, the beauty of the here and now, and the endless possibilities of what was still to come. It felt like a timeless moment, both eternal and already slipping away. Some part of me accepted that even something which had once seemed infinite would come to an end: the age of blissful childhood holidays with the family.

content/20260516_flotsam.md

@@ -11,6 +11,6 @@ I focused on scanning the edge between the warm, anthracite-colored dry sand and
 
 <!-- more -->
 
-Mom, dad an my sister █████ were still behind, running playfully along the black beach of ██ █████, this empty and forsaken coast that reminded me of pirate books or the shoreline from the Goonies movie. I looked up ahead where the bay gave way to a towering, jagged black cliff, with massive volcanic rock outcrops jutting from the sand and the sea, battered by the incoming waves. Next to one of the large rocks on the beach I spotted something strange. It was a large object, definitely bigger then me, and although as black as the surrounding lava rock it looked artificial. Excited I started running towards it. 
+Mom, dad an my sister <span class="sky">█████</span> were still behind, running playfully along the black beach of ██ █████, this empty and forsaken coast that reminded me of pirate books or the shoreline from the Goonies movie. I looked up ahead where the bay gave way to a towering, jagged black cliff, with massive volcanic rock outcrops jutting from the sand and the sea, battered by the incoming waves. Next to one of the large rocks on the beach I spotted something strange. It was a large object, definitely bigger then me, and although as black as the surrounding lava rock it looked artificial. Excited I started running towards it. 
 
 The closer I got the more details emerged. It seemed to be a large metallic sphere. What on earth could it be? I shouted over the noise of the waves, frantically gesturing for my parents to hurry and pointing toward the mysterious object. I was a bit scared but my curiosity was stronger. As I approached the thing I could see that it was broken. A gaping hole in one side revealed the orb's hollow interior. Strange protrusions covered its outer shell making it look like some giant sea urchin. I heard my dad shouting for me to be careful and not touch it. The shere was encrusted with barnacles, shells, and strands of seagrass and I thought it looked unbelievably cool. Then I realized I had seen something like it in one of my books about ships and submarines. It had to be one of those old naval contact mines from the war. Definitely the coolest beach treasure I had ever found but unfortunately not one I could take home.

content/20260517_farewell.md

@@ -7,7 +7,7 @@ era: 1996
 location: 49.40901367679297, 8.671027857791819
 read_more: Step in →
 
-It was time to board the bus. I was scared and excited at the same time. I gave my mother, father, and █████ each a long hug, then stepped onto the express shuttle that would take me from ██████████ to Frankfurt Airport. I don't really remember why we decided that taking the bus was a better idea than all of us driving to the airport for a longer goodbye, but at the time it seemed fine. I could hardly believe what lay ahead of me: a ten-month stay as an exchange student in a suburb of ██████, Texas, USA.
+It was time to board the bus. I was scared and excited at the same time. I gave my mother, father, and <span class="sky">█████</span> each a long hug, then stepped onto the express shuttle that would take me from <span class="yellow">██████████</span> to Frankfurt Airport. I don't really remember why we decided that taking the bus was a better idea than all of us driving to the airport for a longer goodbye, but at the time it seemed fine. I could hardly believe what lay ahead of me: a ten-month stay as an exchange student in a suburb of <span class="red">██████</span>, Texas, USA.
 
 <!-- more -->
 
@@ -17,4 +17,4 @@ As if the anxiety of not seeing my family for almost a year were not enough, I w
 
 I took a seat at the very back of the coach and looked out through the rear window. My family stood on the sidewalk, waving, and I waved back as the bus pulled away. I kept watching them until they disappeared from sight. Then I turned around, settled into my seat, and gazed at the urban landscape sliding past as we made our way toward the Autobahn.
 
-That was the moment I took off the glasses I had worn for my lazy eye since kindergarten, for what would turn out to be the last time. I never needed them again. It was only about a week later that I realized my chronic cough, too, had mysteriously subsided. It felt as though, somewhere between ██████████ and Frankfurt, an old version of me had been left behind. It was time for a new me. A new era.
+That was the moment I took off the glasses I had worn for my lazy eye since kindergarten, for what would turn out to be the last time. I never needed them again. It was only about a week later that I realized my chronic cough, too, had mysteriously subsided. It felt as though, somewhere between <span class="yellow">██████████</span> and Frankfurt, an old version of me had been left behind. It was time for a new me. A new era.

content/20260517_voyage.md

@@ -7,15 +7,15 @@ era: 2020
 location: 37.339603494757085, -6.555857335277408
 read_more: Keep driving →
 
-After dropping my wife and daughter off at Seville airport around dawn, kissing them goodbye and hoping they would be fine, I drove to a nearby petrol station, filled up our Ford Transit escape vehicle, and continued toward Huelva in the morning sun. My head was full of racing thoughts and worries. It had been a difficult morning. ██████ had suffered a crisis of confidence. The plan had been for her and ████ to fly ahead to ████████ while I followed a few days later with the van on the ferry, sparing her the crossing because we knew how prone she was to seasickness. But the thought of being separated for almost a week, amid the chaos of constantly shifting travel restrictions, had suddenly become unbearable to her. We had talked through every alternative, but in the end decided to stick to the plan. It really did feel like some kind of escape.
+After dropping my wife and daughter off at Seville airport around dawn, kissing them goodbye and hoping they would be fine, I drove to a nearby petrol station, filled up our Ford Transit escape vehicle, and continued toward Huelva in the morning sun. My head was full of racing thoughts and worries. It had been a difficult morning. <span class="pink">██████</span> had suffered a crisis of confidence. The plan had been for her and <span class="sapphire">████</span> to fly ahead to <span class="blue">████████</span> while I followed a few days later with the van on the ferry, sparing her the crossing because we knew how prone she was to seasickness. But the thought of being separated for almost a week, amid the chaos of constantly shifting travel restrictions, had suddenly become unbearable to her. We had talked through every alternative, but in the end decided to stick to the plan. It really did feel like some kind of escape.
 
 <!-- more -->
 
 I could hardly believe we had made it this far. After what had felt like half an eternity of endless preparations, weeks spent renovating the van, getting rid of clutter, sorting and packing our belongings, preparing our apartment for a sublet, we had finally hit the road. All our anxieties about roadblocks and checkpoints in fully locked-down France, and about unpredictable regional travel restrictions in Spain, had turned out to be just that: mere rumours.
 
-It had taken us a day and a half to drive across Germany to the French border, which we passed without encountering any of the feared controls. After a stop in ███ ██████ in Occitania, where friends welcomed us with good food, wine, great conversation, and the luxury of a real bed, we continued west toward the Atlantic, the Pyrenees always to our left. Only the changed road signs told us we had entered Spain. Again: no borders, no police, nobody stopping us. After a dizzying drive through the tunnels and viaducts of the Spanish Basque Country, the landscape suddenly opened into the vast rolling plains of Castile y León beneath an overwhelming expanse of blue sky. It felt like freedom made landscape. That evening we camped on a small hill between ████████ and Valladolid under an orange-tinted sky, the wind carrying the scent of pine and thyme. The final stretch south into Andalusia had also gone smoothly, and we had reached Seville, where we spent the night parked in the middle of the city. 
+It had taken us a day and a half to drive across Germany to the French border, which we passed without encountering any of the feared controls. After a stop in <span class="lavender">███ ██████</span> in Occitania, where friends welcomed us with good food, wine, great conversation, and the luxury of a real bed, we continued west toward the Atlantic, the Pyrenees always to our left. Only the changed road signs told us we had entered Spain. Again: no borders, no police, nobody stopping us. After a dizzying drive through the tunnels and viaducts of the Spanish Basque Country, the landscape suddenly opened into the vast rolling plains of Castile y León beneath an overwhelming expanse of blue sky. It felt like freedom made landscape. That evening we camped on a small hill between <span class="maroon">████████</span> and Valladolid under an orange-tinted sky, the wind carrying the scent of pine and thyme. The final stretch south into Andalusia had also gone smoothly, and we had reached Seville, where we spent the night parked in the middle of the city. 
 
-I exited the A-██ onto the A-███, taking a detour along the Andalusian coastline. I don’t remember exactly where I was when the next song came on the radio, but it was *David Bowie*’s epic track [Heroes](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lXgkuM2NhYI). I had never really been a Bowie fan, but I sang along, feeling my body relax and my worries begin to fade. Then, somewhere in the second or third verse, when the reverb in Bowie’s vocals kicked in...
+I exited the A-<span class="yellow">██</span> onto the A-<span class="sky">███</span>, taking a detour along the Andalusian coastline. I don’t remember exactly where I was when the next song came on the radio, but it was *David Bowie*’s epic track [Heroes](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lXgkuM2NhYI). I had never really been a Bowie fan, but I sang along, feeling my body relax and my worries begin to fade. Then, somewhere in the second or third verse, when the reverb in Bowie’s vocals kicked in...
 
 ...out of the blue, I burst into tears. Not just a little, I hadn’t cried like that in years. Tears streamed down my face as I all but yelled the lyrics while the blurry landscape rushed pas me:
 
@@ -35,4 +35,4 @@ I almost had to pull the car over. Tears blurred the road ahead until I could ba
 
 Only in retrospect do I see it clearly: some deeper part of me had already recognized what lay ahead. This was our turning point, the point of no return, the moment every hero's journey ultimately arrives at. An era was ending. A world was ending. After this, nothing would ever be the same. 
 
-What had begun as a temporary escape plan: to spend the winter months on ████████ until the chaos of the Covid-19 pandemic subsided, eventually became a two-year residency as expats. And true to what some part of me had sensed on that drive, nothing was ever the same again. We never returned to our old life in ██████. Instead, our journey carried us onward to ██████, where we would live for several more years.
+What had begun as a temporary escape plan: to spend the winter months on <span class="blue">████████</span> until the chaos of the Covid-19 pandemic subsided, eventually became a two-year residency as expats. And true to what some part of me had sensed on that drive, nothing was ever the same again. We never returned to our old life in <span class="mauve">██████</span>. Instead, our journey carried us onward to ██████, where we would live for several more years.

content/20260518_fax.md

@@ -11,10 +11,10 @@ read_more: Decipher it →
 
 <!-- more -->
 
-The fax was from my cousin █████████, who lived in ████████, France. We had always been very close, always inspiring each other with the weirdest ideas and plotting secret plans to take over the world or simply wreak havoc on our families. We shared a nerdy fascination with Scandinavian *black metal* and other niche genres - the more brutal, the better. We were both good at drawing, fascinated by satanism and demonology, Nintendo games, manga, fantasy novels, weird cartoons, and of course *Beavis & Butthead*. We usually only saw each other once a year, when our families would meet in ███████ or ████████ during the fall holidays to go hiking and spend time together. The rest of the year, we mostly kept in touch by sending each other arcane faxes. The internet hadn't been a thing yet.
+The fax was from my cousin <span class="green">█████████</span>, who lived in <span class="lavender">████████</span>, France. We had always been very close, always inspiring each other with the weirdest ideas and plotting secret plans to take over the world or simply wreak havoc on our families. We shared a nerdy fascination with Scandinavian *black metal* and other niche genres - the more brutal, the better. We were both good at drawing, fascinated by satanism and demonology, Nintendo games, manga, fantasy novels, weird cartoons, and of course *Beavis & Butthead*. We usually only saw each other once a year, when our families would meet in <span class="sapphire">███████</span> or <span class="lavender">████████</span> during the fall holidays to go hiking and spend time together. The rest of the year, we mostly kept in touch by sending each other arcane faxes. The internet hadn't been a thing yet.
 
-We obviously worked for a secret agency called ███. Our codenames changed constantly. At one point I was *Blackjack* and he was *Azagthoth*. Our imaginary boss was *M.A.G.G.O.T.*, and much of our correspondence consisted of planning and briefing each other on secret missions.
+We obviously worked for a secret agency called <span class="red">███</span>. Our codenames changed constantly. At one point I was *Blackjack* and he was *Azagthoth*. Our imaginary boss was *M.A.G.G.O.T.*, and much of our correspondence consisted of planning and briefing each other on secret missions.
 
 In the beginning, we wrote in English, even though we spoke German with each other in real life, simply because it felt cool. But it wasn't secret enough, and our moms had a reputation for reading our private stuff, so we had to come up with something better. Given our shared niche interests, Elder Futhark as a parent-proof code was the obvious choice. I'm still not sure what to do with this particular life skill, but to this day I'm fluent in reading and writing runes.
 
-I translated it without thinking. The message turned out to be an urgent operational briefing from ███ headquarters regarding a supervillain named ███. It concluded with strict instructions not to bring the ██████ ████ Nintendo cartridge.
+I translated it without thinking. The message turned out to be an urgent operational briefing from <span class="red">███</span> headquarters regarding a supervillain named <span class="yellow">███</span>. It concluded with strict instructions not to bring the <span class="peach">██████ ████</span> Nintendo cartridge.

content/20260518_mondsee.md

@@ -0,0 +1,26 @@
+title: Marooned
+date: 2026-05-19 13:30
+author: T. F.
+tags: sailing, alcohol, drugs
+slug: marooned
+era: 1997
+location: 47.8496016025711, 13.350667930492033
+read_more: Set sail →
+
+The sailing regatta began and there I was in a dinghy together with <span class="maroon">█████</span> and <span class="teal">████████</span> of all people. The bottom feeders of our class, thrown together to race the cool kids. How the hell had I ended up here? To be fair, half the class had simply assigned me my old role [from before I left](/go-west.html) for a year abroad. The other half were thrown off by how much I'd changed and treated me like a newcomer. Who was I? The old loser or the new alien? Either way I accepted my fate and got ready to lose. But first, let's go back to the beginning of the week...
+
+<!-- more -->
+
+I had just returned to my old high school in Germany after ten months in the US, arriving just in time for a week-long school trip to a lake in Austria. Having been thrown back into the old social circle of my class I realized quickly how much I had transformed - from the shy computer nerd with glasses who blushed whenever he talked to girls, to a relatively self-confident alternative surfpunk type dude who [knew cool bands](/multiband-dub.html) that hadn't even made it to Europe yet.
+
+Fortunately, some of my formerly cooler friends had been impressed enough by me, or maybe rather the music I'd introduced them to on the train ride, that they let me stay with them in their hostel room. While half the class headed to a local pub around the corner with our two teachers, I followed my roommates outside. We stopped at a nearby gas station, where they picked up a six-pack of cheap beer and a bottle of some clear liquor. I tagged along with a can of soda. Then we headed to a nearby parking lot, where they lit a few hand-rolled cigarettes. It didn't take long to notice these weren't regular cigarettes. The smoke carried a thick, unmistakably herbal scent. Wait. Was this...?
+
+When we got back to the hostel later that night, the others had already returned from the pub, and judging by the noise, everyone was tipsy and nowhere near done partying. It seemed I had a lot of catching up to do. Back in the States, where drinking wasn't legal until 21, I'd only heard stories about the secret parties I was never invited to - let alone allowed to attend. Before my exchange year the majority of classmates had still been half children, with a [few usual prematurely rebellious suspects](/go-west.html) who were already spiking their drinks and puffing cigarettes. Meanwhile, in less than a year, adolescence had apparently turned half my classmates into seasoned drinkers and some of them into dopeheads.
+
+We spent most of our days at the lake, where half the class took a windsurfing course and the other half learned to sail. I was part of the latter group. We learned different knots, nautical terminology, and practiced sailing maneuvers like *gybing* and *tacking*, turning with or through the wind and trying not to capsize in the process. I genuinely enjoyed learning all of it, though I seemed to be in the minority. Most people were busy recovering from hangovers and already looking forward to the next round of drinking after sunset. 
+
+The regatta on the final day was less about sailing talent and more about who was still functional after a week of partying. That was exactly how I ended up in a boat with <span class="maroon">█████</span> and <span class="teal">████████</span>, since the three of us were among the very few who had actually paid attention and cared about what we were doing out on the water.
+
+Unfortunately, nerdy interest in sailing turned out not to be enough to win races. A minute into the regatta, it became increasingly obvious that my two shipmates had not exactly spent the previous evenings practicing knots. Their reactions were slow, their timing completely off, and every other maneuver dissolved into confused giggling. 
+
+We crossed the finish line gloriously second last.

content/pages/about.md

@@ -5,5 +5,5 @@ My first attempt at writing some kind of memoir was during my daily train commut
 
 Today my memories of the past are hazy and scattered and this blog is an attempt to piece together these random fragments that feel like from different timelines in faraway places I often randomly revisit during walks on the beach or early morning drives.
 
-[Zonetoast](glossary.html) is an ongoing [chronotopological](glossary.html) endeavor of a xennial slacker born in 1980, a cartography of half-remembered places, former selves, and the strange elasticity of lived time.
+[Zonetoast](glossary.html) is an ongoing [chronotopological](glossary.html) endeavor of a xennial slacker born in Germany in 1980, a cartography of half-remembered places, former selves, and the strange elasticity of lived time.