Podcast: Sister Act

If you have a few minutes and Quicktime, please listen my latest podcast. Originally written in October 2006, this story chronicles the ever-evolving relationship with my sister, Christina.

(PS. Excuse the photographic glitch at the end. I'm new to Garage Band and couldn't figure out out how to make it right.)

Together again!

She's here! She's finally here!!


There may not be enough wine in Germany...

Lady of leisure

I’ve abandoned the designation ‘hausfrau’ in favor of a new term—lady of leisure. Not only does ‘lady of leisure' offer a nicer tonal quality, but it also more appropriately describes my daily routine and general outlook in this new and charmed life.

Yes, it true. I’m a bit of a princess—a nice, easy-to-please princess, but one nonetheless.

(I suspect you already knew this somehow.)

Maybe if I had a kid or two strapped to my hip, the term ‘hausfrau’ would apply. In this case, I’d have daily obligations, real work to do. But as it stands, because Max is so easy going and makes no demands on my time, I spend my days doing whatever it is that pleases me. If I desire a clean house, then I make a clean house. But if I’d rather have the dust bunnies grazing on the floor and a few loads of laundry piling up in the corner, so be it.

Back in the States, I woke up to an alarm clock, caught 15 minutes of Matt Lauer, before I rushed to the office. Today I wake up to sunshine and dawdle for a hours before I decide how I want to spend the remainder of my day. It’s like I’m living in some delightful, parallel universe. For me, there are only a couple of downsides to the life of a lady of leisure. One, you have already heard about—my expanding and softer waistline. The other issue I have only just realized after our recent weekend in the Alsace region of France.

I’ve lost the “wow factor”--the easy excitability that comes when you travel to new places and discover new things.

What I mean to say is the wine producing region of of France and the towns and cities that we visited are charming. But when Max asked me how I liked the area, I could only muster an “it’s nice.”

It’s nice?!?

For most, Strasbourg and the surrounding area would be better than “nice.” It’s a quaint, lovely, even beautiful area. Yet somehow--maybe because as a lady of leisure I live in ‘quaint and lovely’ and also frequently travel to ‘quaint and lovely’--I’ve become desensitized.

In other words, I’ve lost the “wow factor.”

And this makes me a little sad.

This weekend, we travel to Rome. The next week, it’s off to Athens. A trip to Prague follows soon after. And while I am looking forward to the excursions, I hardly feel excited.

What’s wrong with me?

The future is so bright...

We've got to wear shades!

What I didn't blog about this week

Events in recent weeks kept me from posting this regular Friday feature because I didn’t want to blog about what I hadn’t blogged about. Makes sense, right?

But I am happy report What I Didn’t Blog About, beloved by at least one of you (yeah, I’m taking about YOU, karey) is back with a vengeance.

Friday – Mother Nature prevented Max and I from visiting Strasbourg as planned. I started miscarrying on Thursday, just as Max got back from Brazil. (Welcome home, sweetie!)

You can imagine what a relief it was to have him home. Considering everything, we are doing well and looking forward to trying again in the fall. Thank you for all the kind comments and e-mails. I typically don’t share my Martinis posts with Max (unless it’s a funny post about him), but I shared your words of comfort. We were both so lifted by your kindness and support. Today, I am feeling much, much better and we have decided to take our little getaway to France this weekend.

Monday – I am constantly being surprised by sweet, little kindnesses bestowed upon me by people I hardly know. My landlord’s 80-year-old father surprised me with an herb garden. He went out, bought the herbs, planter, soil and made it up for me. I’ve only met this man, who speaks no English, three times--once when I interviewed for the house, once when I moved in (when he and his wife brought me a welcome bottle of prosecco and flowers), and then Monday. The sweetness gene must run in the family. His son and my landlord, Thomas, a busy architect took an hour out of his Thursday to show me the best places in the Pfalz to buy spargel. Then, he demonstrated how to peel and prepare it. Like the herbs, this was a spontaneous act of kindness. And thanks to the education in German asparagus, I was able to make Max a traditional, German, spargel dinner that very night.

Tuesday – Max and I have made two promises to each other for the summer. First, we are going to start walking more. After dinner each night and with Charlie in tow, we have been taking a 3 kilometer stroll through the local vineyards. It’s a great way for Max to wind down from the stressful day at the office and an even better way for me to build up my activity level. I need to get back in shape, but also I need to start slowly. Our other goal is to spend more time exploring the local town. After our walk, we patron a new café or wine bar for a nightcap. Yes, I know this probably goes against our first objective, but it is oh so good for the soul.

Thursday – I’m busy doing Spring cleaning because next week I have a very special guest visiting from the USA. Germany should be forwarned because JULES is coming to town.

Project Pyramid

Lynda at Lulu's Bay, Cairo is always coming up with something! She's started Project Pyramid, a unique meme where she asks bloggers to find objects in nature, at home, or just around that resemble pyramids. Admittedly, I am cheating a little bit. My "pyramid" was bought in Egypt and inspired by pyramids. It's a gold and stone pendant, a wedding gift to me from Max's family. Next to my engagement ring, it's my favorite piece of jewelry.

Now head over to Lynda's and see what those who haven't cheated found.

There’s always a 'but'…

My house, like most in the Pfalz, has exactly two sources for cooling when the temperature rises—screen-less doors and windows. With all the Vitamin D I’ve been soaking up as the sun glows, I forgot the one downside of airing out and cooling down on a breezy day. Bees. They terrify me. And yesterday, I had three of *three * swarming around.

I feel ashamed to admit this (especially with other expatriates, like Danie, who wrote about her viper and cobra-invested yard in India), but I almost passed out when I saw the bees. In fact, I probably wouldn’t have remained conscious if it hadn’t been for my language teacher, who took pity on me and saved the day by bringing over a fly swatter and a can of Raid Wespen Spray. Even as I type these words, I keep these within arms reach as I also look warily around for any trace of the evil creatures.

It’s bad, people. I am not one to commune with nature, especially when were talking about the buzzing, stinging, and swarming variety.

So I ask you: How am I going to get through the summer? My usually wise teacher said I’ll just have to get use to living with bees and wasp just like the average German, but this seems a tad harsh. I’ve had this fear (not an allergy) since I was a child. How am I suppose to just get over it?

My only other option is to suffocate, keeping the doors and windows tightly shut though June, July, and August. Or, maybe my landlord would let me put a few screens over the windows?

Are or were you every afraid of something? How did you get over it? Are there any expats out there in the same boat??

Blue skies smiling on me

April’s gloomy, rainy days have passed, making way for beautiful May weather. Until this week, I hadn’t seen a string of sunny, warm days since I’d left North Carolina. As the weather warms up, I feel rejuvenated. I also sense renewal from the local town, Bad Dürkheim.

There is indeed new life here. Once dormant fountains now spew forth cool waters. Cyclists of all ages have come out in full force, busying themselves by exploring the many paths along the wine street. Small tables covered with new and colorful plastic clothes now clutter the already narrow cobblestone streets. Everyone, it seems, prefers to be outdoors, and poor pedestrians (or those of us trying to walk our dogs without getting run over by bicyclists) are left to compete for real-estate alongside the patrons of the many wine bars, cafes, bistros, restaurants, and gelaterias.

It’s almost magical here.

It’s taken me five, long months to touch upon the real charm of this country. Buildings I once thought of as old and drab now look to have aged so much more gently against the blue skies and green ivy. Fresh, colorful flowers proudly adorn every weathered windowsill. Maybe it’s a side effect from all the asparagus being eaten, but people are smiling more these days. I smile more these days.

I didn’t realize how badly I needed spring until it finally arrived this week. And just to be sure my mind wasn’t playing tricks on me, I checked the forecast on Weather.com to confirm what I was experiencing. I’m happy to report it’s all blue skies from here.

Veggie Tales

All this time, I mistakenly thought German cuisine consisted of two major staples, meat and potatoes or, at the very least, bratwurst and beer. This was an obvious assumption to make because all winter long and aside from a small salad with yogurt dressing, I have hardly seen a vegetable served at any of the neighborhood restaurants.

However in the last couple weeks, the dietary habits of the locals have changed dramatically. Everywhere I look—in the grocery stores, restaurants, and numerous, small, roadside stands—one particular vegetable has taken over. It is not just any vegetable, mind you. It’s what the Germans call the königliches gemüse (or royal vegetable) known as spargel.

In the English-speaking world, we call it asparagus.

From April through early June, Germany produces 57,000 tons of the stuff. Thanks to a process known as hilling--where asparagus is completely covered with soil to prevent photosynthesis—most German spargel is white and much sweeter to the palate than its greener sibling. But what really amazes me is that the spargelsaison ( or asparagus season) is not only a growing season, but also a time when the people attend festivals and special dinners in honor of this king of the vegetables. Seriously, folks--it’s only the first week of May and I’ve been invited to three spargel dinners and have already happened upon my first Spargel Fest.

Served with a special cheese, béarnaise, or hollandaise sauces, coupled with ham or lox, pulverized into a creamed soup, or made into a sandwich—I’ve had more asparagus in two weeks than I’ve eaten in a lifetime, and there is still a full month of the season to go. I am certainly not complaining. German spargel is by far superior to any other asparagus I’ve tasted. And once June passes, I’ll be anxiously awaiting the next spargelsaison.