My phone was sitting (as all phones begin to take on properties and characteristics of humans – what’s the word) –
sitting next to me, minding its own business until I needed it as a Wörterbuch (dictionary).
I should note that this happened in Berlin, near Checkpoint Charlie, in a very busy, touristy Starbucks. Not that you can’t have your phone stolen at Niagara Falls, Canada or anywhere in Zurich.* You probably can.
And after my phone was stolen I went with my tandem German-English partner to the local police station. Needless to say, that went as expected, except in German.
Me: Hi, good evening. I want to report that my generic Samsung was stolen. (translated to the policeman)
Policeman: (in German) You are the 18th person to report a phone stolen today. Let me guess. A guy or gal came up, put a piece of paper in front of your face, on which was written that they needed urgent help, and as you were trying to answer, that person left, cleverly picking up the phone behind the paper.
Me: Yes, I think. (translated to the policeman)
Policeman: (in German) Here is a report to fill out. But listen, that phone is in the trash somewhere. All they want is the – insert a bunch of tech words, which, believe it or not, were mostly in English and I still don’t know what he was saying – but of course we will call if someone turns it in.
Me: Ok.
*That whole sentence is written as a joke, on the off chance that you are reading this AND/OR live there AND/OR know that these are relatively safe places AND/OR need another introduction to my sense of humor.
Note 1 – In case you missed it, most of what I said had to be translated to the policeman by my tandem partner.
Note 2 – Policeman was serious and not sarcastic/snotty. Everything, including that I was the 18th person to report a phone that was stolen that day, was said in a completely matter-of-fact voice.
What you are really interested in, I bet, is the outcome. As I have become very familiar with a bit of German bureaucracy, I am ever hopeful that someone is indeed working on my case. There are 18 people ahead of me.
(And yes, it appears I will bounce between Germany and the US, as it suits. Ugh. Sorry.)
CREDITS: Oh my, well, the list definitely includes my non-city slicker inattention and choosing a seat by the door.
So I just threw out the previous post and this one contains some basic info. And a Van Halen video.
Also, it is difficult to determine where the jumping point actually is. Is it specific? Random? Do I need to tie this back to the last thing I wrote? (Have I ever done that? And when was that? Are hyperlinks still a thing?) Could someone just push me?
I’ll start now. I’ll work back. Maybe I’ll work a little forward.
I might change my writing style a bit. Maybe I won’t.
MySpouse and I moved back to New Jersey from (the city that was really starting to become our home) Berlin, Germany.
The reason? Because a trifecta began to take shape…
-New visas would be needed soon.
-The commute was really starting to wear mySpouse down.
DEFINITIONS: (wikitionary, edited to suit me of course)
trifecta: 1) a bet on the 1st, 2nd, and 3rd-place finishers in a horse race, 2) three awesome things, 3) three terrible things, 4) one party holding the presidency, the Senate and the House — depending on your perspective, #4 also refers to #2 or #3.
We were a bit more clever on the move back to the States than the move to Berlin – mySpouse packed extra stuff in his suitcase when he would go back to the States to start a work trip. Then he would drop it all off at our storage space (shout-out to #LibertySelfStorage in Jersey City, NJ) that we’ve had since we decided to move to Berlin four years ago – for all the things we couldn’t/didn’t want to take with us like furniture, dishes, dirty laundry, bikes, art, Commune secrets (I was going to hyperlink that to another post, but I don’t seem to have written anything? Don’t worry. I will write more stuff and then forget to link it.) and books.
This worked beautifully, for a time.
And then we realized he would need about 17 extra years of back-and-forth trips plus an ‘over-the-top’ and ‘not-fair-to-anyone-but-us’ type of understanding from the employees at Berlin’s Tegel** Airport.
So we started shipping. The first box was our winter coats. We chose them because they are relatively light, and it’s summer so I was fairly certain even if they didn’t arrive for 4 months, we wouldn’t miss them.
The box ended up being oversized, and we had to ship through a service that was not Deutsche Post (the regular ‘post office’ office). (Don’t worry; I’m sure there will be other Deutsche Post posts.) Let’s just say this was more expensive than planned. We (by we, I mean mySpouse) went back to the (sucky but free!) schlepping between Berlin and Newark plan.
But with the move-back deadline approaching, and a growing number of things we were realizing we couldn’t just shove in a suitcase, we had to do something. So, we reluctantly went back Deutsche Post shipping. And shipping things that were unfortunately (A LOT) heavier than coats-in-a-box boxes.
Here’s a not-funny story. Our ‘get-by’ German has gotten much better (broadly speaking) – even at the Post. When we brought our final four boxes to the post office to be shipped, the postal employee looked at one of our contents slips, which indicated it was chock full ofbooks*, and remarked, “Bücher? Für Bücher haben wir ein cheaper special rate. Oh vell. Nächste time.” This only makes me wish my ‘get-by’ German was terrible (which is to say, it is. Because maybe I could’ve had a conversation AT ANY OTHER POINT THAT MONTH about box contents).
Also, she said ALL of her German in German, but, as you can see from my terrible jerk-wad faux-translation, I don’t really deserve the cheaper special rate.
Books.
They are part of my core, ink and (mis-remembered) quotes running in my bloodstream. I certainly haven’t read enough, or all the ‘right’ ones. I couldn’t tell you what’s a must-read. I dog-ear the pages, top and bottom, to mark my place and to remember to look up words and phrases I don’t know. I stack them with intention and recommend with reluctance. I read in the tub. I read other people’s borrowed books in the tub. I write in the margins and comment and underline and argue with the characters and authors. I sincerely read the epigraphs and introductions – and most of the acknowledgements – and I love footnotes (at the bottom of the page, don’t make me turn to the back, you know who you are!), especially the ones that run towards the tangential. And I always finish the story, even when I don’t want to. (Here’s lookin’ at you, Tolstoy.)
I’ve been reading a lot of books about Berlin recently. You might think that I should’ve been doing this all along. You would be right.
Oh. And my first surgery in March went fine.
FOOTNOTES:
**I’m not a reliable witness, history buff, etc. but Tegel Airport is an interesting story. When we moved to Berlin in July 2014, Tegel Airport was (and currently still is) in the middle of a huge construction ‘scandal.’ This huge scandal is … wait for it…that construction is not finished on the new BER airport, so Tegel remains open.
Here’s some history: Tegel Airport, in the north of Berlin, was a hunting ground until the early 1900s when it was used as an airship testing facility. Used in both World Wars, but basically destroyed after WWII, it was slated to become community gardens. However, in 1948/1949, the Cold War was starting, and the other airport at the time, Templehof (non-operational as an airport as of 2008), wasn’t big enough to transport goods to the cut-off West Berlin. Tegel was once again thrown into full operation to accommodate the US-led Berlin Airlift.*** In May 1949, the USSR lifted restrictions on West Berlin, but the Cold War flames were only beginning to be fanned.****
As of this post, Tegel Airport (aka Otto Lilienthal Airport*****) continues to serve millions of people and has a huge fan base of support against its closure (including me and mySpouse). The new airport, BER, should have opened in 2012, but has been updated to 2021. Maybe someone just transposed the numbers?
***The Berlin Airlift is a whole other tangent. You should make a note in your margin to read about it and curse this author who didn’t write you another footnote.
****For that matter, the Cold War, which tumbled to the beginning of its end with the fall of the Berlin Wall in 1989, German reunification in 1990, and USSR dissolve in 1991-1992, is also a good tangent. Make more margin notes-to-self.
*****If you are interested, google Otto Lilienthal (pronounced lily-n-tall). He’s considered Germany’s ‘Father of Flight’ and an influence on the Wright Brothers.
*It was not. But do you know the German words for ‘cheese grater‘ and ‘decorative ribbons which are unused but I wish to keep, to the chagrin of a loved one‘?
************I’m pretty sure I have royally screwed up this post by using footnotes.
CREDITS:
Look! I can draw a picture of impending divorce. (He can’t divorce me in Germany. I think.)
Look! I can draw pictures of an ex-pat idiot committing mail fraud in the Post post office.
I have a tandem partner. This person helps me learn German, and I help her learn English, mostly through really mixed up conversation. I’m not sure how much either of us is learning, but we always have a good time.
You can find a random tandem person on a random tandem website. (Yes, I did that deliberately.) Beware. (Not of me. Of random tandem. Which might turn into one-night standems. Which usually creates personal bedlam. Ok, I’m finished singing this tandem anthem, which might lose me my 5-person fandom.)
Many tandem sites look like really bad dating websites with seemingly half-finished profiles, and are overwhelmingly occupied by men. (I guess women prefer less random tandem. OK STOP NOW.) Actually, my tandem partner is a former student of mine, and she is the one who suggested that finding a tandem partner might help me learn German conversationally. Like I said, the sites are a bit weird, some want you to register (nothing’s free) and well, I just don’t have to enough willpower to lower my annoyance level to register for ONE. MORE. SITE. AND. REMEMBER. ANOTHER. PASSWORD.
So I never did. Thank God her company’s contract ended and she asked me if I’d like to get coffee and chat.
Fun fact: ‘Fast’ means ‘Almost,’ not ‘Wow! You are really learning German quickly!’
Credits:
Look! I can draw pictures in German.
TAGS: Deutsch ist schwer, Making friends, Someone needs a drink and it might not be me
I’m not sure if I have stated exactly what I am doing over here. American in Berlin. Maybe because we have only recently paid our 2014 taxes, and for ‘artistic license’ purposes, pretend that I am only telling half-truths, instead of federal life-in-prison for tax evasion truths.
I’m working as a free-lance English teacher. Yes, I love it.No, I do not look that cool doing it, as seemingly every other person in Berlin does. Anyone who knows me, knows that I sweat. You would swear I might be recovering from and/or just beginning a new form of influenza. I get asked regularly if I need to use the restroom to clean up, as if I hadn’t just come from there.
In New Jersey, at my normal office job, I would drive in my lovely air-conditioned car to my lovely air-conditioned office. No more. I am the poster-child for public transport now. (Except I look like a missing child, rather than a commuter. It’s not funny, but neither is sitting next to me.)
A thing about Germans. They wear ‘season-appropriate’ clothing. Which, under normal circumstances, is the appropriate thing to do. My stress comes from, and then causes me to sweat even more, things like: when it is a bit warm for November. No matter – everyone in down coats. When we have some spring-like temperatures in January?Wool scarves.
So I am forever taking off my scarf and light sweater in18? -3? degree weather – I still don’t know how to tell time or temperature in European / rest-of-the-world style – in the U-Bahn, causing a bit of consternation. (It’s not uncalled-for consternation; most consternation is well-intentioned. Yes, I had to look it up. I’ll save you:
https://www.vocabulary.com/dictionary/consternation Consternation is a noun that can stop you in your tracks because it means “a sudden, alarming amazement or dread that results in utter confusion; dismay.”
So not only am I a sweaty person, but also someone who clearly doesn’t follow the rules. (Well, see above. Taxes.)
And that’s some of what I do, and don’t do, here.
Wow! I’ve got my own car today! (Except for the wildlife…)
CREDITS:
Look! I can look up words for you. No problem for helping.
Look! I can draw pictures of commuting! And sweating!
It would be a massive lie to tell you, dear readers, that I haven’t had the time to write because I am busy doing stuff with things. But, to paraphrase my all-time favorite movie, ‘it’s already out there’ so let’s let it lie, okay?
I could’ve said, ‘Well, we ARE living in Europe so we are doing as the Europeans do and this is how Europeans take vacations – from February to August for Easter and summer, with another small break from October to January for Oktoberfest and Christmas – but I feel like that statement seems like too broad of a stereotype…and everyone knows Oktoberfest actually begins in September.
(By the way, you can make Oktoberfest 2016 planshere. There is even a countdown clock!)
Additionally, I wanted to mention something about the never-ending Fußball season but I’m afraid the joke wouldn’t be taken as such. But why should I care? Everyone is on vacation watching Fußball!
And more importantly, we should discuss Halloween.
Fun fact that you already know, Halloween is an American import which Germans love. (This based on a small sample.)
But who wouldn’t? A great reason to overeat candy, dressed as someone or something else? It doesn’t make sense 363 other days a year. (I have my suspicions about the Easter bunny, but somehow I think a party serving ‘Bunny Brains’ as finger food might be looked down upon. For now. Have faith and give the capitalist spirit a few more years!)
But fun fact that you probably didn’t (and I definitely did not) know:
Shortly after the Civil War, two young brothers came to America from their family home in the Harz Mountain region of Germany. There were thousands like them, part of the huge wave of European immigration that began in the 1830s and would well into the 20th century.
Gustav Goelitz and his younger brother Albert traveled to Illinois to join an uncle who had emigrated in 1834. Within two years, Gustav, 24 and Albert, 21 opened a candy making business in a Belleville, Illinois storefront.
…. When the income tax was introduced in 1913, (m)any (businesses) failed, but Goelitz was already firmly established. Butter creams, later known as mellocremes, were the primary products of the company. While licorice, chocolates and peppermints were also available, butter creams kept the business growing for the next five decades. The single best seller? Candy Corn.
According to tradition, candy corn was invented in the 1880s. Company records show Goelitz making candy corn by 1900.
…Although candy production is now aided by computers and machinery, the essential process and the secret Goelitz Candy Corn recipe remain the same today.
I don’t know about you, but our house has an argument EVERY YEAR about candy corn. Why? Because, marriage. So mySpouse INSISTS it is tradition and we have to buy some. (And now he will read this post and be correct. This is REALLY poor precedent-setting.) All I can say is, thankfully, these guys also invented Jelly Belly jelly beans.
Honest Pumpkin gives you reasons to overeat Halloween candy.
So a good reason to move is to get a new perspective. Sitting on your couch with the newly approved Deutsche Netflix is not a new perspective.
We decided to go to Rome.
Back story: we have been “trying” to go to Rome since we moved to Jersey. Something always came up. No seats on the plane because summer travel. No seats on the plane because everyone wants to see the newly elected Pope. Then, they wanted to see the new, newly elected Pope. (Who are we kidding? I want to meet Papa Franciscus! He has Twitter feeds in every language! – in English, you can reach him @Pontifex) Or there were special holidays. Or the euro was too expensive. Also, the flight from EWR is 4 million hours long. And every Jerseryan knows Florida is more fun in February than anywhere in the world, especially since hurricane season is over.
(Something I just realized…Florida and Italy are similar shapes!)
Current story: from Berlin, Rome is now less than a 2 hour flight and 1/2 hour train ride into the heart of Romulus’ 3 million residents, country (Vatican City is a COUNTRY!?!?!! who knew? … apparently lots of people who are not me)-within-city, over 2500 years old, city. (Yes, I learned all this stuff very recently; thank you, mySpouse).
airberlin was awesome
We left on Wednesday afternoon and we were drinking wine and eating pizza by 7 pm. This is because you cannot eat before 7 pm, and I know because I was trying to figure out how to eat pizza as soon as we got to the airport.
Let me clarify. You can eat gelato or drink espresso at any time, but restaurants generally do not open for dinner until 7. (The guys in Berlin who sell wursts from back-strapped grills would make a fortune in Rome. If they would add pizza, and wine.) It seemed like breakfasts were generally light – we normally had breakfast at the hotel (except one day when we decided to try the ‘American’ breakfast down the street for fun).
Later that evening, we walked to the Colosseum.
Makes you understand why being a Gladiator would’ve been awesome, though terrifyingly short. Note: I could not find Russell Crowe anywhere.
The next day, we saw a lot. I am not going to pretend I listened to mySpouse for the 9 hours we walked around Rome. (He would say that would pulverize my current record of 15 minutes, so no, no one would believe it. Also, I am too close to a lot of things about Jesus so I need to keep my exaggerating to a minimum.)
Believe it or not, the lines for things are relatively short in February. This one for St.Peter’s Basilica was timed at about 2 hours.
The tour guides in Vatican City are a gauntlet, for which there is no amount of mental preparation you could do. Harmless enough themselves, they use alarmist phrases like, ‘Skip the 45 hour wait time in the line!‘ and ‘You will pee in the open shamefully’ and ‘It’s not our fault you are too lazy to reserve tickets to one of the most visited places in the world. You know, being lazy is a deadly sin. We’re just sayin’ is all.’
We actually decided to try and get up earlier the next day, since it was already 12:30. Unfortunately, everyone else decided to do this too, but on the bright side, the wait was only 40 hours. (It wasn’t really, but the story is much more fun this way. In fact, everything was less than a 2 hour wait. Although, we were told this is not high tourist season, so I might not be exaggerating after all.) It was worth the wait to see the Pope’s pad.
Inside St. Peter’s
It was worth the wait and the optional obstacle course provided.
View from the top.
This is exhausting. I need some espresso and gelato. More to follow.
Credits:
Look! Maps! One of mySpouse’s favorite things – mapsopensource.com and bestpics.in
NO. I do not mean that Christ is a hot mess. So no lambasting. I meant that my Christmas holidays were so crazy that I had no other words to describe it. And also grab your attention at the same time.
I decided to go back to the States for the holidays, and see (almost) every possible living person I could think of. This sounded exciting when I was planning it. I haven’t been back since we moved here at the end of July – unlike mySpouse who travels back and forth for work. (Also, mySpouse would not be going with me.)
I would fly to the west coast, and start by driving from Seattle to mySister’s house in Oregon and work my way back to Seattle. Then spend New Year’s Eve with myBoatyGirl and herBetterHalf, on their boat of course, and fly home to Berlin in the new year.
Let’s take a look at my map again, updated with my Christmess trip in pink.
So, we meet again middle-school education…
Got to the airport fine – public transport is amazing in Berlin. And Tegel (TXL) airport, in my opinion, is fantastic – though you will find differing opinions here. (Thankfully, they are all in German so I don’t have to change mine.)
After 7 and 1/2 hours, our plane ran out of fuel.
It sounds worse than it is because it was planned, but you are more interested in hearing that first instead of the truth. Because the winds are so strong heading west in the winter, often planes have to make fuel stops. On the plus side, all my luggage was able to make it onto the plane since weight restrictions were lifted. So we stop in oh! Canada!!
ALL of those other places look more fun than Goose Bay…I actually overheard someone say, ‘Where the hell is Goose Bay?’
And then it is another almost 3 hours to Newark (EWR). From there, I have a decision, keep flying or spend the night.
Keep flying!!
Are we there yet?
The flight going to Seattle was full. (Like a crazy person, I am flying standby at the busiest travel time of the year.) I saw another person waiting standby to be called and decided to chat him up, realizing that he would not want to crush my west coast dreams if I was a real person and not a number on a sheet of paper. Turns out, he had flown all day too.
Moment of truth. One seat left. He was a flight attendant, and they can sit in a special, not the most comfortable, seat, if they have to – but would you? Long travel day behind you already, and another 7 hour flight to go. He, very graciously, gave me the last seat and took the FA seat. (I am constantly wishing this man gushing gratitude.)
Made it to Seattle.
Never has room service tasted so good. I ordered onion rings and salad, a perfectly (American-ly) balanced meal.
The next morning, myMa and I drove the normal 6 hours to mySister’s, in 8, because Target. And Mexican food. Honestly, I would’ve gone back to Target to walk off the Mexican food and then eaten more Mexican food.
And a few days later, we drove back to Seattle, where in the span of 4 days:
I saw mySpouse (Christmess night he actually had an overnight trip in Seattle, which is so random I will never be able to do the math),
– saw his family,
– saw some of my best friends (including myBaconBit and myT*) and all their kids,
– and then most of us, including kids, stayed with myBFF and her kids in (beautiful) BFE,
– and then I took the red-eye flight to Newark to spend New Year’s on myBoatyGirl and herBetterHalf’s boat.
Oh.
And also went to a birthday party for one of myBaconBit’s kids. At a bouncy house paradise – I was a bit jealous of all the 5 year olds that I was too big…
The yellow one had slides!!!!
And unbelievably again, mySpouse had an overnight on NYE in Newark, so we were able to spend THAT holiday together as well. Which, again, has never happened. (I guess we had to leave the country and then come back on foreigner visas in order to see each other on holidays. Who knew?)
The boat was great! – and NYE on the boat more than made up for the fact that the boat is a work in progress.
NYC from the marina
NYC fireworks!
Marina fireworks!
And finally, I flew back home to Berlin.
I couldn’t move from my bed for two days I was so tired from all my first world problems travels. Was it worth it? Yes. Would I do it again? As the Germans say, “Nie wieder.” (‘Knee-Veyder’ — Never again).
A SIDE STORY: A couple of things I missed while in the States…
1) There is a German cultural phenomenon known as ‘Dinner For One’ – a short, physical comedy that is played on TV at regular intervals on NYE. More surprisingly, it’s in English. No matter their English-speaking level, all Germans can quote this sketch. Even more surprisingly, my students were amazed when I told them I had never heard of it – and I don’t think most English speakers have. I love it and have watched it several times. Here it is:
2) Apparently we had missed a massive party.
“Ain’t no party like a Berlin party!”
As I was dragging my luggage through the streets, I noticed that there were a small army’s worth of exploded fireworks on every corner. It was explained that even though technically not legal, this is how Berliners celebrate NYE.
(*myT – how is it possible that I don’t have a name for you??? myRoomie…? since I think we were the most perfect college roommates ever, and to this day, the others make us bunk together since we stay up too late.)
Credits:
Look! I can edit pictures to make my life easier.
Look! A picture of anywhere I would rather go than Canada in the middle of winter!
Look! I can draw over-dramatic pictures of mySelf.
Look! I can draw why sometimes it sucks to be an adult.
Look! A picture of … Berlin, what HAPPENED HERE?!??!?!!! Are you still breathing??
Tags: holiday travel, old friends, William Wallace, Braveheart speech, I’m on a boat!, mzBerlin to States and back, Dinner For One, It wouldn’t be NYE if someone didn’t end up in the Krankenhaus (hospital)
Traditions. We all have them. And the biggest one mySpouse and I have is hosting Thanksgiving. We have been hosting it since we moved to New Jersey from California in 2000. It started because we don’t/can’t fly over the holidays – no seats and I would normally have to work the next day.
One of our friends, henceforth known as myCAgeek (because he still lives in California and is a techie who does something techie – and in all the years I have known him, I have never known exactly what he does), decided he would visit us if we had Thanksgiving in Jersey.
And we were like, Really? Aren’t we bucking a sacred tradition – the start of holiday season? Do we dare? We dared and a new tradition was created.
Fast forward to 2014: We didn’t see any reason why our friends wouldn’t fly a billion more miles (we hoped) to eat turkey (we also hoped) in Germany.
The point is, it’s far, okay?
I can admit to you, dear readers, that in Jersey we nicknamed it ‘Home-less Thanksgiving’ which is not a good name at all, and the complete opposite of what Thanksgiving means.I know this. That being said… We were trying to create a place that looked and felt like home, but without so much of the craziness and stress that often begins with this official start of the holiday season in the US.
Over the years we have had anywhere from 1 to 12? 14? people in our house for up to a week. I guess we should’ve called it Areyoucrazygiving. But we have loved hosting and wouldn’t change a thing.
Everyone usually has a chore – here’s a few from over the years….ironing the tablecloth – ALL the wrinkles! (myBFF), buying all the booze (thank you, thank you, thank you, myCAgeek), cutting a thousand veggies by hand, even though we own a food processor (sorry! I forgot I owned one, myBoatyGirl – but since you used to be FoodieChick you know I don’t cook often).
In the last few years one of my favorite additions has been the girlfriend of myCAgeek – she loves doing dishes. I do not.(Of course I am also glad myCAgeek has found love and dreams and unicorns. I think this happens when you meet someone. I can’t remember because mySpouse and I have been married since I was 4.) I think I will call her myECOchic – since you can check out her blog about sustainable living.
But honestly, think of the worst thing you can. Worse than that is doing the dishes. And Thanksgiving dishes are even worse than that.
We also watch When Harry Met Sally, for no apparent reason except it is the best movie in the world.
We drink a lot of champagne. (And other concoctions). I make 4 to 6 pumpkin pies, one just for mySpouse.
We have had guests who have never experienced Thanksgiving. We have had deep discussions and idiotic conversations…and not enough sheets and beds/floorspace, necessitating a few people sleeping on the living room floor and on the basement floor (it was warm and carpeted!). We have had an apartment with two full bathrooms and an apartment with only one bathroom – a ‘mop-sink’ style shower, with a bathroom door that you could only close by essentially stepping into the mop-sink. And yet they come back, year after year. Tradition.
With the move to Berlin, the holiday was officially renamed – Thanksgermany! (Thankgod). The Californians, myCAgeek and myECOchic, enthusiastically agreed to travel and an old friend, whom I should call American by birth, European by choice, since he left for the old country after college and hasn’t returned, came with a lovely Spanish guest, so we had a full house!
We were able to find a turkey (Pute, in German) and Libby’s Pumpkin (obviously there can be no direct translation for this amazing product, but pumpkin is Kürbis) in the ‘American Food Section’ of the Galeria, a big, fancy department store in Berlin.
We did have to make our own pie crust this year and homemade whip-cream (ex-FoodieChick should be proud of me, but mySpouse actually made both). The Californians brought a little America with them, as requested – cans of cranberry and black olives, the kind you can put on your fingertips – both important traditions. And the Europeans brought European beer – a great new addition. This year we had a champagne taste test, in which I did quite poorly (I think). A great new tradition.
What’s my theme here? I guess I don’t really have one. I am just really, really thankful for my friends and family who make the holidays important in the first place. And tradition is how you define it. Here’s to the old and the new.
Prost! Thanksgermany!
Credits:
Look! I can draw! Sorta. In Sumopaint. Our new Deutsch computer crashed so we broke down and bought a Mac. Missing Paint…but Sumo is pretty cool.
Look! I can copy things from the inter web! It’s copied from the Amazon site – fyi, it’s the Special Edition.
Look! I can draw! Again. Sorta. (Which, I am realizing, might not really be that different from when I use Paint…)
aLLes blog 