A new do for the holidays

 

I went to the hair dresser yesterday for some help in letting my hair grow out and also asked for highlights. I was quite taken back when I got home and realized I had blonde hair. She also straightened it for me and I looked like a completely different person. Of course when I got up this morning, the waves had returned. It actually looks better than this picture, but its really hard to take a picture of yourself.

Just wanted to share my new do!

Bbrrrrrrr

I awoke this morning to naked trees covered with snow and even though there was still high grass peeping through, snow was covering most of the ground. It wasn't beautiful but still, it was quiet and there was a rush of excitement. It wasn't cold enough to freeze the lake, although I understand Lake Seewoog is a popular place for ice-skating among the Germans in the village. I stepped out on the balcony just as the church bells were ringing, resonating and echoing. Sounds are always magnified when snow is falling.

I thought of the book "Snow Falling on Cedars" and wanted to re-read it. I need a book with history, intrigue and romance. But, I didn't bring too many books with me and I have only one that I haven't read, recently picked up at the only used book store on base. It seems books are a paucity here, at least ones written in English, so I started "The Memory Keeper's Daughter."

I was recently obsessed with the Amanda Knox trial and then the last 2 weeks have been consumed with the Tiger Woods scandal. I'm glad to report that today I discovered I am done with both of them. None of the stories concerning either of them on MSN, CNN or CBS news intrigued me enough to "click" and continue. I am a serial learner, delve into a story, an author, an idea and it overtakes me completely and just as surely as I was hooked, I am saturated. Don't talk to me about Tiger.

So, it's been a quiet day and a wonderful day really. I did venture out to do laundry and was quite pleased with how the little cooper handles in the snow. I have lentil soup on the stove, a bottle of wine, coffee for the morning and still have quite a lot of pages to read in the Memory book.

Temperatures are just below freezing and I'm wondering how the roads will be in the morning at o dark thirty. I don't think anything can be as scary as driving in the ice in Oklahoma so I think I'll be fine.

Hope everyone is keeping warm.

Please, tell me. What would you have done?

I understand I am violating a "promise" to give you details of Day 3,4 of cooking class, but frankly, I am tired of that posting. I am taking a break. I want to talk about this weekend, the Christmas Market at Wiesbaden and events that identified it for me. And please, comment. I would love your impression and "feedback."

Tuesday past, I made the comment to a co-worker that I might drive to Wiesbaden for the Christmas Market, an hour and a half away, only because the Christmas Markets in Germany are supposedly phenomenal and I had not yet experienced one. OH! she responded enthusiastically and said she would like to go with me. Fine. We talked about logistics, time, meeting place, etc. and the plan was put to motion.

My friend lives in Kaiserslautern, an easy drive on the autobahn, but not so easy once you take the exit to her apartment. It is a 20 minute drive through the city on one-way streets, congested and confusing even with a GPS, and I prefer not to add additional time to a day trip, so we have agreed (on more than one occasion) that she meet me at a Parkplatz just off A-6. I also prefer to start early and return home by 6-7pm. That gives me time to be home, have a cocktail and dinner, and then off to bed I go. It's not that I wouldn't like to stay out late, but the laws in Germany are VERY strict and I don't dare have even one beer or glass of wine if I am driving. It is automatic return to the states if you are an American, and I don't believe it is worth the risk.

Agreed upon. I would leave the apartment at 10am and meet her at the Parkplatz at 10:30 and drive to Wiesbaden. We would be there no later than 12:00, walk the market, have lunch, shop, enjoy. Plan on leaving around 5:30 or so.

Our friend Tom heard of our plans and indicated that he might like to go as well. Fine. Great actually, because he is familiar with Wiesbaden and can show us around a bit. But, he is not sure that he will be returning to K-town that night because he will be close to Frankfurt, parents and girlfriend. Maybe he will drive his own car, meet us there, and go on his own. What are the plans exactly? Parkplatz 10:30.

From the time it is mentioned that Tom may join us, I notice that Cindy is fixating on riding with Tom..."oh, maybe I just ride with Tom...oh but he may not be coming back and then I'd be stuck at the Parkplatz" this continued Wed., Thurs, Fri., with Tom consistently saying he wasn't sure of his "return" date.

Saturday morning I call Cindy at 9am, confirming our plan. She has decided to go over to Tom's to "Chant" from 10-10:30 and could we meet at 10:45 instead? OK. I'l leave the apt. at 10:15.

I get a call from Cindy at 10, she's at Tom's preparing to chant, but he really wants to go with us but he won't be ready to go until about 12. Is that OK? You know, it's really not OK with me. I'm ready to go and if Tom is going to drive his own car ANYWAY, let him find us there. OK says Cindy. But, can we change the time to 11?

I'm walking out the door at 10:30 when the phone rings. "Jennifer, it's Tom. Listen, there has been a change in plans. Come here to my apartment (gives his address) and we'll all leave from here. I have to take a quick shower, but it will just take a few minutes." OK! So, I have to drive into the city of K-town but, if Tom has now decided we are all going together and I don't have to drive, I can make this detour.

I arrive at Toms at 11:20 and he answers the door in his pajama's, not showered and not shaved and shuffles me off to his kitchen and last night's party. Have a seat, take off your coat, the tea is almost ready. Relax, chill. We're almost done with our chanting. "Tom. You decided to return home tonight?" "No. That hasn't been determined yet. Cindy will ride with you, I'll follow and then I'll show you around Wiesbaden."

Cindy is sitting in the room, at the alter, dazed and unaware (not uncommon) along with another woman. She asks "whats going on" but never comes into the hallway herself.

And now. I ask you. What would you have done, at this moment? I know what I did but I want to know what YOUR take on the situation is and then I can best evaluate my own behavior. Please, indulge me. Comment!

Day #2

After a shower, breakfast buffet and time to spare, I went outside to see what I had missed and imagined in my body and mind drenched state the night before. It is truly beautiful here. I can't see Lake Garda (the largest lake in all of Italy, 30 miles long) but I see the cliffs surrounding her. It is no longer raining, but there is the smell that follows a heavy rain and the air is not clean and crisp and the clouds linger.

Off to cooking class. I forgot my notebook (recipe book) and apron and have to return to my room. TARDY!!! Carol is the translator and is married to Larry Pisoni, the mastermind behind the "Cooking School" and producer of Gourmet-Italia Pasta which is sold in the Commissary. Carol is tall and trim, somewhat stern, an American who married this crazy Italian 50 years ago and gives the appearance and air of one who is from old money and has received a "proper education." She sits on a high stool, wears reading glasses, holds a book and pencil,and is donning pearls and spiked knee-high boots.

I wish my suitcase really had been high-jacked. A perfect excuse for not looking like Donna Reed or Mrs Cleaver.

We learned how to make Pasta but I will never make pasta, not when it is so readily available in any store in the world. Carol even said that no-one makes pasta anymore, that this was something done when there were "house-wives" who had the entire day and nothing more to do. But, pasta we made and pasta we ate. Also, we learned secrets of sauce's and spices and the history of the Mediteranian cusine.

Olive oil. No butter. Rosemary and Sage in bouquets with occasionally Bay Laurel and basil. Garlic, onions. Delicate flavors with robust outcome...

After lunch, a 3 course meal that takes at least 2 hours, we all went to tour the Pisoni Winery. These are distant relatives of Larry's but the winery has remained in the "family" for hundred's of years and now is run by brother's and cousins. All of the families live in this incredible compound of grape vineyards, playground equipment, showrooms, old Italian Villa's divided and remodeled to accommodate the lifestyle of the young families who live and work there.

The old tasting room is unchanged, and there we tasted the 2009 European Award Winner of Sect. They are not allowed to call it Champagne (exclusive to France) and an awesome chocolate liquor that was served in tiny edible ice cream cups. I brought 2 bottles of Sect and one of the liqour's home and will try really hard to keep it until you visit.

A woman in our group, Jo Anne, wanted to buy a copper pot. This woman deserves a Blog of her own (this will or will not happen, depending on whether or not I can be assured she will never discover the blog:-) Larry made a phone call and then took us to a small family operation that makes their own copper goods in an extension of their home. I didn't buy anything because I never liked cooking with copper, but the group made this family who makes cooper pots DAY. So many sales in such a short period of time! Smiles all around.

Another stop at yet another family workshop, this one being a wood carver. Again, I didn't buy anything although I wanted to support this artisan, nothing cried out to me.

Ah, an unexpected turn down an old Medieval Road. This once had been a viable village of trade but it is no longer because of the narrow and steep roads. It seems today's automobiles don't quite have the "horse-power" of yesterdays "horses" or feet. Unfortunately, it was too dark for really good photographs, but I stood aghast and amazed at the close resemblance of the street to my favorite oil painting that I carry with me. I very well could have been looking at the very spot in which this painting was painted.

Back to Piccoli Mondo and a 4 course meal. I should have brought the menu's with me but alas...I did not.

I vowed to be on time to class and have my notebook and apron with me for tomorrows cooking class. Goodnight.

Thanksgiving in Trobole, Italy 2009

Ah! To be Thankful! My friend Zenobia and I were picked up at our respective apartments at 5 a.m. Thanksgiving morning and driven to Frankfurt Hahn airport to begin our journey to Trobole, Italy for our Gourmet-Italia cooking school. By air, it was a short trip of 65 minutes. To continue on to Trobole by bus, train, train, train, bus, it was a much longer journey but filled with memories, fear, laughter, joy, hiliarity, and finally, exhaustion.

 

 

In pouring down rain, we caught the bus to the train station in Bergamo, Italy (the first picture) and we were both a little taken back at the absolute filth we were exposed to at the Bergamo Train Station. Z kept saying "I miss Germany, you know, the swept sidewalks and stuff." There was no lobby to speak of, but the sidewalks outside were crammed full of people peddling their wares like umbrellas, "used" camera's and phones and I-pods. I actually bought an umbrella for 5e and it worked just fine. We quickly moved our BACKpacks to FRONTpacks and neither of us felt safe. We waited anxiously for the next train to Bressia.

This train was what we now affectionately call "the ghetto train." You can see the graffiti on the side, and the inside was just as ghetto.

 

 

I think we were the only women, but the train was standing room only by many of the peddlers we saw on the sidewalk, illegal immigrants from Nigeria, Romania and Russia. I know this, because we had quite an in-depth conversation with one of the same on our short journey to Bressia. It seems that it is no problem getting into Italy without the proper paperwork, and they live basically together somewhere, selling what they can, work on english and legal paper work. I didn't take pictures because I wanted to keep my camera.

When we got off the ghetto train, all I wanted was a shower. And I may have been dreaming about this a bit because in a flash, some young dark skinned man grabbed my suitcase saying "oh, an American." In a flash he fled down 45 stairs, across the tunnel of tracks and up another 45 stairs. Goodbye suitcase. Goodbye clean clothes. Goodbye make-up. Oh well. Maybe I could buy my suitcase at the next stop.

I am very embarrassed to say that when I made it down, across and up the stairs, my suitcase was waiting on the platform to Verona. There was the young, dark skinned man, grinning, saying "Goodbye, America." I reached into my pocket and offered a couple of euro's and said "Hello, Nigeria." And in his hesitation, I sensed that he was not expecting gratuity but rather, he was simply a kind young man who wanted to help an "elder."

The train from Verona to Roverto was clean, quiet, and we celebrated our successful journey with a bottle of wine in the club car.

The last leg of the journey was a bus ride (short, the web-site assured us) but it was a 45 minute wait, again in pouring rain. After 2 busses passed us by because of no room, a third one stopped just for a moment to let a young boy off. I was not to be denied, and forced Z into the back door of the bus (2 back-packs, 2 suitcases) knocking down a few individuals in the process. I told her to stay there and went out and around the bus to the front to buy our tickets. "NO. There is no room." "We are already ON this bus. We have seats in the back. I just never paid the fare." "NO. You may not board this bus. This is a SCHOOL bus." "And, WE are CHAPERONES!" He took my 5e and somehow I made it to the back to my friend.

45 minutes later we were let off within 500km of our beloved Piccilo-Mondo Hotel, a 5* Hotel, looking like drowned rats who may have not even been allowed to work the night shift. It was 6pm and Thanksgiving dinner was to be served at 7:30.

Ah. Thanksgiving. 2009. I sat at the beautifully appointed table for 15 and quietly gave thanks. For arriving safely at the Piccolo-Mondo, and as our host remembered Pets who had blessed us in the past, I remembered Mickey and Xena. And I was filled with such warmth and love as I gave thanks to my family who is with me on this journey. I feel so grateful that my "children" Megan and Austen are strong, settled and secure enough to allow me this time of exploration and not only allow me, but to encourage me to continue. That, in and of itself is enough Thanksgiving for one day.

So, this was Day 1. Look forward to Day 2, 3, 4. And, please know. I gave thanks to each one of you reading this blog, who is with me on this incredible journey...and who are kind enough to forgive me for my misspellings:-) Happy Thanksgiving!

Oh dear! What have I done

 

oh dear, what have I done

When I am in town, I spend Saturday morning's at the Ramstein flea market, an old brick building that has maybe 10-15 vendors. It has cement floors and regardless the weather it is chilly but it is enclosed (a plus for rainy days) and there is an air of community, friendship, familiarity and a really outstanding cafe. I go with my friend Z, and we always stay long enough so we can enjoy an early lunch of rot-wurst, pomme frittes and cola. We have our favorite "room" where we eat, furnished with a traditional German wrap-around wood boothe and colorful table cloth. There is a wood stove, old dolls, wash boards, bright tins from the early 1900's, ashtrays. The woman who runs the cafe ( I need to learn her name ) thinks I understand German, and looks to me for translation whenever Z says anything. I frankly don't know what either one of them are saying half of the time (Z slips into ebonics) but it always works out. We order, go to our room, and the food appears. A beautiful Saturday morning.

Today was no different. Except that I made an impulsive purchase. Keep in mind, I have not even unpacked my recently purchase Cuckoo Clock in case I need to ship it to the states, should I not have a job in 6 weeks. But, I saw this table and I absolutely loved it. It is 150 years old, 44x34 inches, one drawer on the end, and it has leaves that pull out for additional space. There are no nails, just a beautifully constructed piece of furniture.

I have a table and I have chairs...from Denmark, which I bought on the virtual flea market, Ramstein Yard Sales. It is fine. A little modern but it works. I don't need a table!

Somehow, we got the new table home. Z may have broken a finger in the process and I most certainly had cardiac issues carrying this beautiful table up 2 flights of stairs but here it is.

 

I immediately took picture of my existing table so I could post it on Ramstien Yard Sales before carrying it down to the my storage room in the basement.

 

A friend dropped by after Z left and we were admiring the "new" table. I pulled up the chairs and discovered that this is not a table at all. Legs do not fit under the table while sitting in chairs. One would have to sit 12-18 inches from the table in order to reach the plate. I bought an old "preparation" table, one that would be used for kneading bread dough, building pies, cutting corn from husk, I don't know. All I know is that it is not intended for "dining."

Still, it is a beautiful table altho' it sits in my LIVING room and it cannot stay. I can either move it into the third bedroom and use it as a utilitarian desk for "projects" such as mosaics etc., or I can list it on ramstein yard sales. What a total bummer! AND, I still don't know how long I am "enlisted."

Oh dear. What have I done? Impulse shopping is never a good idea :-(

The Harvest..of Grapes (dedicated to Chris P. and Clay)

There are two friends back in Tulsa who appreciate the pictures more than the words of this blog, so I am backtracking a few weeks to share the (?) joy, and photos of grape harvesting I experienced with a few friends.

Herr Falklay had several large vineyards in the Mosel River Valley and supported his family for 40 years being a Wine Maetsro. When he retired several years ago, he sold all but a small vineyard which he kept for himself as his hobby. Growing the grapes is pretty much done by nature once the earth is cultivated and the fences are in place, but the harvesting is hard work and expensive. Herr Falklay and his daughters are modernized enough to know that you can entice Americans to come and have the experience in a lifetime, harvest the fields and offer them a hearty German meal at the end of the day. What an opportunity!!!

I went with a few American friends for this once in a lifetime opportunity, not realizing the hard work that was required nor the chain-gain mentality I was to experience. I went for the experience and the photo-ops, and within the first 5 minuets of "harvesting" I was reprimanded. I had my bucket, my shears, my hat, my good disposition and had listened carefully to the instructions of how to cut the cluster of grapes. I also had my cigarettes and camera.

I hadn't even begun to sweat when this woman came and confiscated my cigarettes and camera, saying "You won't be needing these." I intended to work my 6 hours I signed up for, but I also thought that as a volunteer, I could take a smoke break and take pictures as I thought fit. Woops. I forgot I was in Germany...

We worked in pairs, and my friend Z was on the other side of the fence. We got into a nice pattern, clip, clip, clip "you missed this cluster, can I reach it more easily?" "Thanks, I can get it." And, that was pretty much the conversation you heard on the hills of the Mosel River, in this eight lane slope of white grapes.

We worked for 4 hours without a break and then were summoned to the road where there were sandwiches, wine, water and coffee, and for some, a cigarette. Exactly 30 minutes later we were driven to another vineyard. We were tired, hot but..we were Americans who were driven to complete their committed task without complaint, and to do the best job possible. I for one NEVER tasted a grape, thinking somehow I would be cheating Herr Falklay out of profit.

Ah. A small vineyard with only 4 lanes. We could work together and have this baby done. Complete. On to the German meal we so looked forward to. Everyone worked fast, hard and without words in order to complete our mission. And we did so with such speed, we finished in exactly 5 hours 30 minutes. Then our hearts sank. We still had 30 minutes to work and didn't Helga know it! We were driven back to the family house with yet another vineyard, and told to fill 2 buckets each.

Our enthusiasm waned and so did our "professionalism". So meticulous I had been early in the day, not eating grapes and also making sure that not one grape stayed behind, I found myself (sorry GrapeGod) throwing in branches, rotten grapes, anything that would fill my bucket. I only wanted to eat, smoke, sit down, say something other than "you missed one." And, so. It finally came to pass. The buckets were full.

We were treated to a sit down dinner in the family dining room of German Goulash, boiled patatoes, delicious red cabbage, and a salad. And, of course, bottles and bottles of wine. Work was done! And this was the celebration! and then, the announcement.

Our hours were tallied, we were given a voucher of time worked and we would be paid in bottles of wine. Our choice, as long as we didn't go over our allotted price. I came home with a case of wine plus one bottle Schnapps. Not too bad for a days work.

How bad was it? I ended up really liking the daughter who confiscated my cigarettes and camera (who is my age and a nurse practitioner)and went next door to her apartment connected to her parents home, and talked about aging health problems in Germany, had a smoke and glass of schnapps, and signed up for next year's "volunteer harvest."

I love how the expected turns into the unexpected turns into appreciation. And, also I have learned a new appreciation for my mother who picked cotton and didn't get bottles of wine at the end of the day. Sorry, mom. It would have made your day better.

Baden-Baden and Triberg

 

Baden-Baden and Triberg

The road trip to Baden-Baden and Triberg was everything I had hoped for. A beautiful drive on country roads under a canopy of yellow, red, orange and magenta leaves, an occasional farm house with smoke coming from a chimney, soft but steady rain added to the quietness and peacefulness. I really can't describe the beauty or the feeling that it evoked, but at times it seemed surreal.

We got to our first destination, Friedrichsbad, the Roman-Irish Bath in just 2 hours. I thought the building resembled an Embassy or something, very large, ornate. The bath opened in 1877 and has been maintained in its original beauty and is considered to be one of the most beautiful bath houses in Europe. When you enter, you immediately get a sense of the history, culture and atmosphere of over 130 years of bathing tradition. You are guided through by numbers posted by doorways and it's important that you follow the sequence exactly (we were reminded on more than one occasion) because the temperature change is deliberately coordinated to be beneficial. The Soap Brush Massage was station 5 (there were 17 altogether)and it was an amazing experience having all of your old dead skin scrubbed away. The motto of the bath is "The most beautiful way to oneself." You leave the bath with a feeling of complete relaxation but also reinvigorated. If anyone who reads this comes to visit, this is an absolute MUST experience.

Baden-Baden, a village of 50,000 has absolutely incredible architecture and we probably could have just stayed there for the weekend, but we were on a "journey." We got to Triberg about 2 hours later and found the Hotel, unpacked and went Cuckoo Shopping.

The internet posting for our hotel advertised "two rooms available". I guess theoretically that was true, but we a little taken back to realize that we were the only 2 guests. Still, our service was superb and the dinner fantastic. It was very quiet despite the busy decor and Zenobia was spooked by all the dolls.

The hike at the waterfall wasn't treacherous at all but it was a long way to the top. I had forgotten how loud water is, especially roaring water, and how powerful it can seem. The waterfall is the largest in Germany, 700-1000 meters, and at Christmas, there is a market at each landing and it is all lit up with white lights. I probably won't go this year, but it would be worth the trip at some point in time. Our time at the waterfall was just incredible. Again, the beauty indescribable.

The GPS took us through France on the way home, a completely different route with different terrain and visual delights. It was simply a wonderful weekend. I loved driving the little Cooper through all the back roads that winded this way and that and we had not a single mishap. I didn't think about my contract or lack there-of one time. Not once.

RoadTrip

This is a first for me in Germany. I'm driving the little Cooper into the Black Forrest tomorrow, stopping in Baden-Baden which is known for it's rich history of Roman Emperiors taking their baths there in 1000. And after a 3 hour experience in this rich Roman Bath and traditional scrubbing, I proceed to Triberg, the town of "Cuckoo Clocks." My friend Zenobia will shop for a cuckoo clock and we will climb the highest waterfall in all of Germany! The weather calls for rain in Triberg so I will take my famous green rain jacket (that my family endorses either framing or burning) and perhaps my red Wellington's. I want to do this hike and have the appropriate (if not fashionable) clothing.

We have rooms reserved at a Hotel that has been serving guests since 1790, 6 generations of the Faulkner family, which is known for it's service and exceptional cuisine. It's considered "remote" since it is 2.3km outside the city proper, on a farm that is 100% organic, thus it's reputation for exceptional food. I'll let you know if the hype is genuine but at 41e a night, please!

So, the weekend bag is packed, I have the German Dictionary and mapquest directions printed out, and Ollie, the GPS guide, is loaded. I'm so excited. This may mean the end to my USO tours, I don't know. But I will keep you informed.

Wish me safe driving!

Authenticity

I am so stricken with deep emotion that I'm not even sure what it is I intend to write.

My friend Joyce, of Tulsa, OK, recently died of a glioblastoma, and she and her husband decided to return to the "family farm" in Michigan to spend her last weeks. The picture of her Memorial was posted on a blogspot, along with beautiful poetry and words of remembrance and gratitude written by Rod, her husband. But, it was the picture that made me cry.

The Memorial was in a field and those old family friends were sitting on bales of hay wearing overalls and boots on a beautiful October day in Michigan. It doesn't get more real than this. Roots, family, history, love.

I cried because I feel as though I have no roots.

Joyce was adventurous, creative, successful, spiritual and happy, driven and worried mostly about how the brain tumor was going to effect her creative self. It was hard for her to come to peace that her wonderful like was ending but she always had Michigan, and the family farm.

My life is not ending (that I know of ) but tonight, living in Germany, so far from USA soil I wonder...where would I like to return for my last weeks? and, I don't know the answer.

Maybe that's why I cried.

HALLELUJAH CHORUS is not just for Christmas anymore

It was so cold Saturday morning when I awoke, even with my my silk long underwear, flannel monkey pajamas and a top robe, REI wool socks and slippers, I had a really hard time sitting on my balcony trying to smoke my first cigarette of the day. Of course I persevered, but it was not without sacrifice I want you to know. And, my coffee was still brewing!

I putzed around the apartment organizing some business paper's, divided my trash (what an ordeal it is in Germany, dividing all of the trash...compost, paper, plastic, bottles into colors. I swear, it has become a Saturday morning chore!) Had a nice 3 minute egg, left over roasted potatoes and a V8. Music in the background was a nice mixture of alternative pop..Allison Krauss, Bob Dylan, Christy Carlyle. It made me smile and feel content. I dared remove the long johns and take a shower and get on with my day.

I could have control of my music but I have decided it is more adventurous to listen to what is selected and go with it. I didn't bring my CD's, just my IPod (loaded with all of my CD's) and leave it on shuffle, plugged into my IPod station. This is my music. Sometimes, it seems so appropriate and just what I need, and at other times it is startling.

I was in the shower when the Morman Tabernacle Choir came bursting out of the confines of my apartment walls singing Hallelujah Chorus. My first reaction was to jump out of the shower and change the setting but I didn't. I stood naked under a shower of hot water and sang along with the choir, reveling in the beauty of the song. Next came O Holy Night (my daughter's favorite) and more..more Christmas Carols..music only, no words. As I dried myself off to the music of Go Tell it on the Mountain, I thought how silly we are that we listen to "Christmas Music" only during advent. The music is SOOO beautiful and yet, we limit ourselves to listening to it only during a certain season. What a shame, really.

So tonight, once again I am freezing, and I am listening to Bueno Vista Social Club, cuban music, trying to pretend it is 110' outside and I'm smoking a cuban cigar on the porch of a run down warehouse. Really, I need to learn how to turn on my heat because it is friggin cold and I am in reality sitting at my kitchen table wearing long john's, sweat pants, sweater and my fleece jacket. Maybe I'll search for Frank Sinatra singing white christmas...buuurrrrrr

A new love...

I went to the Deutsche Radio Philharmonie yesterday evening in Kaiserslautern expecting to hear a maybe 2nd class, hopefully 1st class Symphony Orchestra in a beautifully ornate 1800 concert hall. What I experienced instead was the most glorious orchestrated sound in a rather ordinary music hall built in around 1850. The building was not ornate but it was big, with a capacity of 1,000 patrons, and the ceilings were ordinary, the pillars huge, the floors tile and the seats mobile. Accoustics were fantastic. The foyer was almost as big as the music hall, and the bar was the most ornate fixture in the entire building.

The music however was more than heavenly. Pieces of 5 different composers, 3 of whom I was familiar and 2 I was not, were Overtures of Opera's so each piece was sung as well as played. I have never been an Opera fan and I know nothing about it, but last night I left the un-ornate music hall in love.

When the Mezzo-soprano came on stage to sing the lyrics of the music the orchestra was playing, I looked at her slim fit body in a skin tight long red gown and thought "this is no opera singer." I was wrong. Which, by the way, seems to be a common theme in my life these days. What I presume to be true, what I declare to be true, what I KNOW to be true, is simply NOT true. This woman opened her mouth, her diaphram and her heart and gave me goose bumps that I had never had before. And when the Tenor joined her for song, I thought I was going to loose it. The beauty was almost to much to enjoy.

The Conductor would tell the story of each piece before it was performed, but I don't understand German, so I was "lost in translation." It mattered not. I didn't need to know what was being said, because I saw the emotion and heard it with every piece of hearing I have. I left thinking I would prefer to loose my sight than my hearing, because I don't believe I could ever see what I heard in that simple concert hall that evening .

After the concert it was a walk across the city square to find a place for dinner. A traditional German resturant was selected and filled with patrons of the Art. The meal was excellent but the patrons were exquisite, with some refusing to let go of the experience they had had and stood spontaneously to imitate the actions of the Conductor. I refrained but I swear, I had his moves memorized and could set them to motion with the least bit of encouragement.

What a wonderful event, experience, evening. I just love the symphony, music in general and I especially love being in the company of those who truly appreciate what they are experiencing. I want more. I think I may enjoy studying opera and becoming a regular attendant who knows what is being sung. But, I think truly it doesn't matter if you understand the language...but then again, I am living in a place where I have not understood what was being said for 4 months! One learns to look at eyes, hand motions, body language. And when that is accompanied with a full 60 piece orchestra there is an understanding that is not denied.

QUEENS FOR A DAY

I just got home from the most wonderful experience. A 7 hour Wellness Spa treatment with 6 other women in some village called Wiesberg. The spa was a large house, completely renovated with thick stucco walls that were rounded and of various heights, beautiful tile floors and state of the art sauna's, steam rooms, group shower room, quiet lounging rooms where talking is verboten as well as chatty lounging rooms.

The day began with a champagne brunch, various cheeses and meats, breads, fruit, and chocolate delicacies. Each of us had 3 individual appointments which included a massage, a facial, and either a head or foot massage. Group experiences included the Steam Sauna with lemon grass water poured ceremoniously over hot rocks, a foot bath with each of us having our own personal ceramic foot sink, and a steam scrub of oils and poppy seeds. In between treatments you could sip champagne, water or wine in the beautifully appointed, albeit sparsely appointed dining room or one of the lounges waiting for an attendant to come and greet you, and take you to your next treatment.

Lunch was divine. Organic greens topped with lox and hot spiced scampi. There were other choices but this was mine and I loved every bite. The husband and wife team who own and run this are in their 40's and would not divulge their dressing recipe :-(

7 middle aged women, 3 of whom are German but with good English ranging in age from 39 to 62, sitting around in bathrobes, sometimes towels, sometimes nothing, becoming friends on a new and different level. Intimate talks, silly behavior, everything real. This is something I would recommend for every woman. We deserve our Queen for a Day!

Life of a Contractor

It has been a roller coaster ride, fast and furious, exhilarating and scary for the past 10 days. I knew when I accepted this contract it was short as I was completing the contract of a person who left prematurely. Not to worry, I was told..we have had that contract for years and even tho' there is no guarantee, we expect it will be renewed. My contract expired September 30, 2009 and there was no signature on the new proposal.

I was in the parking lot ready to leave base, not knowing when or if I would ever enter again when Col. Snyder came running and screaming "the contract has been signed." I was escorted to systems for a new ID card and was told everything was good to go until 12.31.09. Not really "good to go" because I had already lost all of my security clearances and when I returned to work 10.1.09, my computer was locked. It is absolute hell gaining security within the US Military system.

I sat on my balcony early in the week, contemplating my fate. I am not ready to leave Europe. That was my conclusion after heavy thinking, no thinking, over sleeping, no sleeping, over eating, no eating. But now, I have until 12.31.09 before I have to repeat this scenario again.

To relieve stress, I participated in a 5K walk for breast cancer awareness, I went to the gym and worked out on the eliptical for 45 minutes, I enrolled in a cooking class in Italy over Thanksgiving holiday and I booked my flight to Ireland for Christmas. This will pretty much put me up to 12.31.09.

I have options. I can apply for a GS position (good chance I would secure a job) or I can expect that my present company will be awarded the contract in January, which is a new 5 year contract, or hope that if a new company is awarded the contract they will want to retain me. Another possibility is none of these happen and I leave. I don't want to leave and I don't think it will happen. If it does, hey...I'll know how to cook really good Italian food and you can all come to dinner.

Ciao!

Addendum to Mourning a Loss

My sister Connie wrote a beautiful tribute to our sister Kym on her blog. I encourage you to read not only this latest entry but to follow her regularly.

Mourning a loss

My sister passed away Saturday, September 19, 2009. She was 49 years old.

I was notified of her death by email and sat here stunned and detached. It took time for the sadness and sorrow to resonate deep within, and I am filled with indescribable emotion that seeps out of my pores and I wish there could be a flooding of tears instead, an expulsion if you will, that would be quick and complete and I could go on with my day.

I remember the morning she was born. 12:43am February 16, 1960. Kymberly Dawn McAlister. It was an unexpected pregnancy and initially it was thought to be some sort of abdominal tumor, but mom knew differently and refused work-up for such, insisting instead on "the rabbit test." She was a beautiful baby who was a living doll for her older sisters, age 10 and 12.

Kym was diagnosed with Huntington's Chorea 10 years ago after 5 or more years of symptoms that no one understood. She fought the disease like she fought everything her entire life, refusing to have reality interfere with what she wished. Her goal in life was to be on Opra as a living example of one who beat Huntingtons. One doesn't beat a genetic disease, one is consumed by gradual decay and loss of function, muscles loose elasticity and the ability to walk and even swallow is replaced by the memory of it having once been possible.

Kym's life was eventually limited to what she could observe from her bed, unable to be a participant, but she resisted and refused compassionate termination. When she was able to write she would begin the day with listing her "blessings." When she could talk, she would whisper disciplines to her 3 small children and when she could walk she would insist on being carried to her son's baseball game. Her fiery temper and outbursts were replaced with darting looks from expressive eyes.

Yes, I am experiencing profound sadness but more because of her life rather than death. And, I am in Germany, unable to get book a flight. I said good-bye to my sister a long time ago and I expressed my love, but today I feel the need to repeat myself.

Kym's legacy: Kate Elizabeth, 25; Anna 19; John 17; Emily 15.

A Different Kind of Labor Day

Ah, the last days of summer!! Labor Day has always been a favorite holiday of mine, the end of summer and the beginning of fall; back to school shopping and an air of excitement and new beginnings. This year I did something different. The smell of cork replaced the smell of unsharpened No. 2 pencils as I went on a wine tasting cruise on the Rhine river in Germany.

The landscape was simply breath taking and I will let the pictures speak for themselves. The 2 women you will meet are my new friends from work, Cyndy and Z. It was a good time of shared appreciation of wine and culture, and at times uncontrollable laughter and silly behavior.

The iron basket you see hanging is not one for plants. It actually is a torture instrument, where one would have to stand in the basket hanging some 400 feet in the air, and think about what they had done wrong. I climbed the stairwell in order to get a better picture and leaning out the window, I thought Holy Cow! If I had ever been ordered to stand in that thing with the spear coming up from the bottom in the middle of the basket, I think I would have leaped and been done with it.

Enjoy your trip on the Rhine.

Senator Edward M. Kennedy

Goodbye Teddy

I’ve been absolutely obsessed with the passing of Sen. Ed Kennedy. I, along with the entire Nation, have been anticipating the event for sometime now. It was obvious his time on earth was rapidly coming to an end when he began the pursuit of changing the law in order to fill his vacant Senate seat sooner than later. But, still. I felt an urge of surprise when I saw it on the television in the clinic where I work, stating that he had in fact died.

I don’t have a television so I’m limited to video clips I can view from the computer but I have followed as closely as possible in order to be part of history. One of my initial reactions to the service held in an historical Catholic Church in Boston was one of curiosity. I am confused as to how he was able to remain a Catholic, receive communion, have a series of priest say prayers with all the bells and whistles, while his first wife sat next to their son and his present wife sat next to another of his sons. My brother in law, Tom, was ex-communicated when he and his first wife divorced and he was told by the Priest and Bishop he would not be able to accept communion in a Catholic church again. My good friend Paula was told she could no longer accept or be given communion in the Catholic church because she supported a congressional bill that advocated Women’s Right to Choose. This is nothing against Ted Kennedy. My brother in law would continue to be part of the church which removed him if they had accepted his transgressions.

I remember Ted Kennedy’s transgressions clearly. I was living in Washington, DC the night of the fatal over the bridge and into the creek incident. I followed the entire unfolding of the story from the waiting room at Columbia Hospital for Women because I didn’t have a television then, either and the hospital was just across the street. What I remember most is his honesty, an admission of guilt with no excuses and what felt to be true remorse. It took a while, but I forgave him.

And I remember the younger brother who’s voice cracked when he gave a eulogy for his slain brother, and how as the youngest of many, rose to the occasion that was required and became the Patriarch of an extremely powerful family. The grief he encountered over his lifetime is something I can’t imagine but he continued the work of those before him and made a difference in the world he left behind. Ted Kennedy didn’t have to work. He could have lived quite comfortably with never holding a job, but what I admire most about the Kennedy family, is they extended themselves to public service and worked endlessly toward helping the common man in a quest for what is right.

I see this as an end to an era. I’m glad Sen. Edward Kennedy continued to work for the blue collar worker, the children in Early Start, promoting health care for every American even if he didn’t have to. Thank you Senator.

A Wedding Toast

Megan's favorite bedtime song, when she was a young child, was Que Sera, Sera. Will I be pretty? Absolutely. Will I be rich. Probably not. Those were easy. As she grew older I found answers to be more difficult. The lingering question in this mother’s mind, was “who in the world will Megan find to love and who will love her? Would it be possible for this extraordinary young woman to find someone who would be her equal? In intellect, compassion, integrity. Someone with whom she could share her life? And not only find someone with these necessary components, but one who would bring other, more important gifts to the table.? As long as we’re hoping, wouldn’t it be nice if she met someone who was more out-going than reticent, a gift of gab would be nice for someone of Megan’s naturally quiet nature. A love for and talent in music would be awesome, especially if this person could appreciate hill-billy roots. A person who would not merely endure the little brother, but one who would understand the importance of this relationship to Megan and one who would embrace Austen as a brother. Loving me would be nice as well. This other person would make ‘Lists” to lessen stress, and have the ability to orchestrate enormous projects and bring out the inner child in all of us.

Thank you Rebecca and Bill. Sarah completes the package. Que Sera, Sera

I look at the relationship between Megan and Sarah and I see a perfect union. One of respect, and love, one of passion and commitment. I see decisions, big and small, being discussed and an agreement made conjointly. They agreed to place their professional live’s on hold and traveled South America for 6 months; they have moved from East Coast to West Coast to East Coast to West Coast, one worked in order for the other to accelerate academically and now it is time for the other to work and support the academic growth of the other. These decisions are not easy ones to make, but Megan and Sarah work hard to encourage and assure each other’s growth.

This union, this marriage between 2 extraordinary women, finally recognized by the State of Massachusetts in the USA is no less significant than an African American being elected to the Presidency of the USA.

I say Prost to the Ghost of backward thinking. And Prost to the Present.. enlightenment, of love..what a beautiful time in our lives. What a beautiful day. Que Sera Sera...I love the way the story ends.

Sarah, I say without reservation and with all the love in my heart, I am glad to have you as a daughter. Welcome to our family.

Cheers!

The Zen of Laundry

Until today, I hadn't been inside a launderette since 1978, the basement of University Towers in Tulsa, OK. Since I've been in Germany, I have used the washer and dryer of a friend while I searched Ramstein Yardsales.com for a set of my own. Accepting an offer of goodwill from a friend becomes uncomfortable after awhile and I believed it was time to use an alternative solution for cleaning my clothes.

The difficulty in buying a washer and dryer in Germany is several fold. If it is American made then it is 110v and Germany has only 220v. You can buy a transformer, but that gets really costly. Then, there are 2 types of dryers. A conventional and a condenser. The condenser model is for those without an outside vent or drain. The water pools collects in a tray in the bottom of the dryer, then you empty it. Another problem I have encountered is transportation of heavy items. But none of this matters now, because I have decided I love going to the Launderette.

It's so simple really. You put in your wash and read. You take them out of the dryer, fold them or hang them on hangars. Hanging out the wash was my job growing up, as was folding the clothes. I remember the "chore" of hanging clothes on the line as being somewhat pleasurable. If you did it properly, ironing was made easier. And as I folded clothes today, I found myself smiling.

I recently started reading Living Buddha, Living Christ, by Thich Nhat Hanh, again. Just snippets before I go to bed and one thing that stuck in my mind is what separates a Buddhist from a christian. A Buddhist Monk said, and I'll paraphrase...when a christian sits, he sits. When a Buddhist sits, he knows he is sitting. I knew I was folding clothes today and it was so peaceful. A simple task.

I am not a Buddhist and neither am I a Christian, but today I experienced the Zen of Laundry and I thought I love how simple my life has become. I won't be buying a set of my own. There really is no need.

Choos.

Friends

My apartment is so quiet. I had a visitor the last few days, a friend from OK, Jack Clancy. It was so nice really, coming into the apartment after a day of work, saying loudly "honey, I"m home!" and to be greeted with an enthusiastic kiss on the forehead. I love Jack. Jack is 75 years old, has never married, is a retired American Airline engineer, absolutely brilliant and enigmatic, a world traveler and a friend. He spent quite a bit of time trying to teach me how to convert celcius to farenheit but his formula had 8 or 9 steps and I just couldn't retain all that information. I need maybe a 3 step process. I knew one once, Larry taught me, but now I can't remember it. Jack and I enjoyed his world famous marg'retas on the balcony and watched people with their dogs, my well known salmon on the grill, conversation and quiet. You know you are with a friend when quiet is peaceful.

I drove Jack to Frankfurt airport yesterday morning and stopped by the city Meinz which is on the Rhine river. I had a nice long walk along the river and marveled at the width and beauty of the Rhine, had coffee on the sidewalk and thought of friendship. I reached in my pocket of a jacket I hadn't worn for a while and felt my HopeStone. A gift from a friend with glioblastoma, Joyce.

I carry that stone with me, and I carry friends with me. I feel so fortunate to have lived in Oklahoma the last 5 years because that is where I met Jack, and Joyce, and many others I have with me in Germany. And I'm glad I lived in Seattle where I met Carol and Patty and a few others. My sister once told me I have no hobby except people. I'm also glad I was born to Paul and Lorene McAlister because that gave me Connie as a sister.

Life is an interesting journey. I'm loving it. But I think I should try and develop another hobby in addition to my people one. I start German classes in 2 weeks, a have a box of broken dishes that I may try to turn into art, and I will start reading again. I need to take a computer class and learn how to transfer my photos to my blog! There is so much I need to do.....and I want all of you to come along with me.

Choos!

I'm back

 

 

 

 

I'm Back!

Goodness gracious, I can't believe it's been almost a month since I've written, or slept in a real bed for that matter. I moved into the apartment June 15th, surrounded by 28 boxes received from Oklahoma and even tho' there are precious memories in those boxes, there was no furniture. My rugs arrived a week later, and my oil painting, but boy do I wish I had those leather chairs.

I've been on the hunt for "stuff" mostly searching on Ramstein Yardsales.com, a virtual garage sale sort of like Craigs List, and things are beginning to take shape but I still sleep on a twin blow-up bed. I fell out of bed my first night here and landed hard on the cement/tile floor, giving myself a blackened eye and sore L. knee. I have since learned not to turn over in the middle of the night.

I perseverated on getting a grill for the balcony almost to the point of insanity, knowing I didn't have a place to eat, drink or sleep, but somehow a grill meant home and I was needing comfort. I succeeded! and celebrated with the most delicious club steak I have ever had in my life.

I don't like living in chaos and I dislike even more being without internet service for a month but today the boxes are empty and I'm wired! Many thoughts have transpired over the last month, and I even uttered the most dreaded phrase "I wonder if I made a mistake." And when my son's computer was stolen and he sounded so sad and disheartened, I was terribly homesick for him. I wanted to be close and comfort him, I wanted to be close and be comforted. Austen hasn't recovered his computer but he recovered emotionally and he did it without his mom. I'm not sure how I feel about that. I still need a hug.

Monday is my birthday. I'm having a pre-birthday celebration with my friend Cindy tonight, going to the musical HAIR in KaiserSlautern. By tomorrow I may be singing Age of Aquarius in german...or not. But I'm thinking it will be a good night.

Ciao for now good friends.

Goodbye Hotel Europa, hello Seewoog

My bags are packed I'm ready to go, the Mini is loaded to the Max with suitcases and bags of dirty clothes. The computer will stay with me this last night, as will tomorrow's work clothes, then its one last beautiful breakfast and I check out.

I've never lived in a Hotel before, in fact I don't know that I ever stayed in a Hotel for more than maybe 5 days. I think it was Larry's Great Grandfather (?) who chose to live in a Hotel where he could gamble, smoke cigars and have his laundry done. I used to think that was weird But, I think I'm understanding a bit more now.

Room 306 has been my home for 34 days. It's a nice size room with a small refrigerator, a microwave, a round table with 2 chairs, a small desk and a large comfortable bed that has 2 mattresses and a space between them. The large shrunck comfortably housed my clothes, and the water pressure in the shower was divine. It surprises and delights me that I never felt I needed more.

The people I have come to "know" are perhaps the biggest asset to living in a Hotel. Many are here for an extended length of time and may or may not have their families with them, most are Military but there are some independent contractors like myself and Hotel Europa is a dog friendly place. I have many 4 legged friends of all varieties, from bull dogs, to labs, to corkies, to schnauzers. I have witnessed teenagers who despise their parents for uprooting them, to toddlers who delight in everything, to pre-adolescents who cannot believe there is cake served at breakfast. And then they disappear. Many resurface on base, at the bank or the immunization clinic, or in the housing office, and it's always good to see a familiar face.

No, in my stay here, I never felt I needed more. Until now. I can't wait to go to the hardware store to buy window boxes for my balcony and plant some flowers, to get a BBQ grill and cook dinner, to make my own ice, and who knows. Maybe I'll meet some people who don't disappear.

And even tho' I'm not leaving on a jet plane (thanks be to God), my bags are packed and I'm ready to go.

Wholesale, retail, yardsale...

Yes, the decision was made to rent the house on Lake Seewoog, and the decision was made to buy the Mini. So, why am I still living in a Hotel, depending on the mercy of others to provide me transportation to work and to hunt for treasures in out of the way places, living much as a teenager with definite wants but needing the parents to complete the picture. Sometimes it can be absolutely maddening. Emancipation is a difficult process even at the age of 58.

I have the apartment and I even have the key but what is lacking is a bed, a couch and the contract for utilities from the German council. It's all very difficult to explain and I don't know that one would find it of interest, but being an American citizen, exempt from the mandatory 19% tax, simply creates a lot of paper work. It is a "step" that I am willing to take, no matter how laborious, given that in the long run it saves me a sizable amount of money. So yes, I have the key AND I have 28 boxes that have arrived from America, sitting in the living room with no couch.

Getting money for the Mini was almost as easy as it was for those poor yokels getting a mortgage loan without a job. Sign here. Done. Clean and dirty. Yes, I bought the Mini, and I even struggled for 2 days with someone who spoke as much English as I do German making sure I had adequate insurance. And I have my receipt for insurance and the bill of sale for the car, BUT no key. The kink is in the paper work, somewhere in the German system waiting for customs clearance.

And, it's hard to look for furniture without a car, a GPS, not knowing when or how I could arrange for delivery. Stores per sey don't attract me, never really have. I like the adventure and the thrill of finding something unique, cheap (or at least a good buy) and most importantly, the experiences along the way. Having to depend on someone you hardly know who wants to share in the adventure can be an an experience in and of itself. At least there is no paper work.

I responded to an Ad in the RamsteinYardsale.com for a "shrunck"..a german word for closet or wardrobe. None of the houses here have built in closets so one has to depend on shruncks. The response was from an elderly couple who live in a renovated 1459 Mill about an hour from Ramstein, saying they had a shrunck and lived in a mill. 2 men whom I have met at the hotel and work in the milling industry, were intrigued enough to agree to drive me. This was an experience to remember. The couple is very eccentric and deem themselves to be "collectors." He has a collection of over 8,000 coffee pots and She has over 3,000 dolls. They have collections of irons, doll house furniture, shruncks that you wouldn't believe and a wonderful Great Dane named Jake. Long story short, I bought a shrunck I found in the attic (Jake helped me pick it out) and He printed off a copy of his book that he recently finished about the history of the Mill. I love it. He punched 2 holes in the side and took a shoestring from his wife's boot in order to "bind it properly." When I go back next weekend to help disassemble the shrunck, he promised he would he would have a hard bound copy of the book for me.

How can Storehouse, Crate and Barrel, and Pottery Barn compete with the richness of shopping in a renovated Mill with 2 wonderful people who have such passion for their life and a willingness to share so openly? And, when is the last time you shopped along side a 230# great dane named Jake? Wholesale...pppfffttt retail..pppfffttt
Ramstein Yard Sale.com yyyyeeeeeaaaaa. and, NO PAPER WORK!!!

A mess of photos, but I'm still learning.

 

Settle...

I marveled at the thirsty patrons when I was in Ireland, admiring their patience as the bartender poured the Guinness. Slowly and methodically he would spin the glass until it was not quite half full then he would set it on a special mat and give it time to settle. This would take easily 5-7 minutes before he would then top it off and let it settle once again. The end result was always perfect with just the right amount of head and a silent nod from the publican indicated it was now time to enjoy.

I found myself trying to rush some very important decisions ( an apartment, a car ) and then I remembered the pouring of Guinness. Some things just take time. I did go for my long walk last Sunday and discovered tables with linen cloths on the walking trail that surrounds Lake Seewoog. There were locals standing at a high bar in the woods having their morning bier, other locals sitting at the tables drinking coffee while the dog laid obediently beside the master, and I took the time to sit and have a cappacino. I gave myself time to "settle." And I observed a 5 year old boy riding bikes with his Opa, and I saw black ducks with white faces, and I saw empty picnic tables waiting for a party. I saw a red haired woman walking a golden retriever and other locals playing fetch with large dogs, and after I had given myself time to settle I knew this was where I wanted to live.

With one thing resolved, I started test driving autos from the Ramstein Lemon Lot. BMW's, 300 series, 500 series, VW polo series. As hard as I wanted it to be, nothing fit. I argued with myself, $$$, miles miles miles, expected time of service, color vs performance. It was time to "settle." Put me on that special mat and just let me be. It would all come to fruition if I didn't force it. It just takes time.

I bought my dream car of 7 years. A Mini Cooper. 2009, pepper white with black leather interior, sky roof and in-put for my I-pod. I drove that baby and thought
" should never have driven this car. It fits like a glove and I'm not even afraid of the traffic circles." No! I SHOULD drive this car. It fits like a glove and I'm not afraid of traffic circles!

Dreams. Wants and desires. Fears and thoughts of selfishness. Romance and practicality: all of these things need time to settle and come together in a cohesive manner. I have a place to live; I have a car to drive; I have reconciled my internal gas bubbles. For right now, I am settled enough. The publican has nodded. Cheers!

So many decisions...

For me to be wide awake and rested on a Sunday morning @ 5AM is an unnatural state of being, but that is where I am in this new country. I retire early and rise just as early, normally eager to greet the day. This morning however, I am weary albeit awake.

I passed my drivers license test on Friday and the next task is to find and buy a car. To drive in Germany means that one is alert, attentive, not afraid of speed and courteous. I can do courteous. But, I am already feeling the angst of being responsible for getting from A to B, even though I DO know my German signs! I have grown accustomed to having my breakfast, taking my last cup of coffee out to the terrace, reviewing notes of what I must accomplish for the day while waiting for my "driver." That is about to end. Until I got my license, I wasn't allowed by law to even test drive a car now, I can. I'm leaning toward a BMW primarily because 9 out of 10 used cars are Beemers, and soldiers are being deployed left and right and forced to leave their cars behind. I'll maybe make a decision this week. Stay posted.

Cars aside, my time in beautiful Hotel Europia is coming to an end and I must decide on where to live. I have a verbal contract on an apartment overlooking Seewoog Lake in the village of Miesenbach (pronunciation guide: when I and E are walking the second one does the talking.) It's quite large for an apartment in Germany, 120sqm, 3 bedrooms, large living area, built in kitchen (not necessarily a given)and 1.5 baths. There is a large balcony off the living room with an unobstructed view of the lake, which sits on the outer edge of a national forest. Very serene, with multiple walking trails going in every direction to various villages. The Village itself is, like most of Germany, is extremely clean and the streets very narrow. Streets and stoops are swept daily in the morning and early evening to maintain the pristine surrounding. There is however, nothing but residence's in this village, which means no market, coffee shop, guest house, etc. And I wonder as I ponder if this will end up being too serene for me.

And remember. I sold all of my personal belongings which means I now have to find furniture and figure out a way to have it all delivered. I find myself overwhelmed right this moment. A friend took me to yet another village yesterday and even tho' it was not as charming architecturally there were local businesses and a large Bahnhof station. We stopped for a libation and talked to an American couple who was house hunting and they were not only knowledgeable about the village, but couldn't stop singing it's praises. It would be 12 minutes to base if the autobahn is open, 20 minutes otherwise. Oh no. I would be on the AUTOBAHN in my new used car looking for an exit going 120km/h. No more singing along with Cat Stevens! Attention, Alert.

I simply don't know what to do. For right now I think I'll go for a long walk, maybe to Miesenbach and walk around the lake. I'll look for inspiration and hope for Divine intervention. Then I will shower and go to a German Castle for a tour and dinner with a new friend named Cindy (a local nationalist.)

And I'll take my camera so you will no longer have to depend on words alone.

Ciao for now.

Red Patten Shoes

Can I just say, I absolutely love my new Red Patten Dansko's. I bought 2 new pairs of Dansko clogs before I left the states because they are the most incredible fitting shoes for someone with my type of arch and they prevent me from getting reoccurring plantar fasciatis. I am typically on my feel alot during the day, whether I am actively walking or simply standing looking at charts and without proper shoes, my legs tire and the hamstring gets taut. I converted to Dansko's 2001 and have been a true believer in them ever since. But, this new pair, its more than a comfortable fit! It's an experience!

Deep cherry in color and patten, shiny leather and they make me smile every time I look down at my feet, and when I believe I am alone in the hall, I click my heels and say "Toto, we're not in Kansas anymore."

I was in new employee orientation most of the day today, and for the most part these types of presentations are unimpressive and boring, but today I had my shoes to occupy my mind. I started thinking about the Wizard of Oz, and The Tin Man in particular. His desire for a heart was so intense, he cried. Which led me to the thought that if he cried, wasn't that a sign he had a heart? When one shows or expresses no emotions or feelings we refer to that person as having no heart. He's heartless, we say, but the Tin Man did have feelings.

I looked under the table and quietly clicked my heels but this time I thought, "I'd better pay attention or Toto, we'll end up back in Kansas.

Memorial Day in Ramstein, Germany

I work on an American Air Force Base and this has been one of the quietest Memorial Days I have had in my entire 58 years. It is possible that since this is a recognized American Holiday, giving us a 3 day weekend, that many (most) of the American population is touring Europe. I heard of several groups going to Berlin, Italy, France, hiking, biking and sighting, but I am too new to be included in such trips. Instead, I enjoyed an early celebration in Kaiserslautern Saturday and a quiet, pensive Monday.

A colleague invited me to an early festival in her home city of Kaiserslautern, the largest city close to where I am staying. The festival itself was very small, mostly rides geared toward the very young but the bells, whistles and colors were a delight that was equaled only by the smiling faces of children going round and round and round. Screams of delight or fear, it was hard to discern which, echoed through the streets of the carnival. Entertainment for the young at heart with lead in their feet was at the opposite end of the festival, in a tent about the size of 1/2 a football field. This was the bier festival with a live German band who played
"old favorites," maybe similar to Mid-life Crisis.

My friend said that lead would melt and before we would leave, she promised that everyone would be dancing on top of the table, including me. It was great fun witnessing how the German people relate to music and one another, how they include those sitting on the same bench or several benches over, how easily one is engaged and how unimportant language is. I of course didn't know any of the songs, but it was hard not to eventually wiggle to the rhythm. That damn early Baptist rearing you know, where it is pounded into you that a dancing foot and praying knee don't grow on the same leg.

There were so many beautiful segments, older women who were soft and comfortable in their XXL tops, dancing with young men in their mid 20's who had 6pack abs, husbands who could shake a leg as long as the younger ones and the absolute involvement of everyone present. I admit only to standing on the table as the evening wore on, but only so I could see. I stayed the night at my friends apartment and took the train back to Ramstien Sunday morning, a trip that took all of 17 minutes.

And today, it is quiet. An early morning walk on a trail that I thought would take me to Miesenbach took me instead to Weirbach and rather than walk on into the village, I chose to sit on a bench in the middle of the woods next to the walking trail. The sounds were surreal but I could never identify the source, so I didn't sit in silence but I did sit in peace. I love the walking trails in Germany. They are wide, almost 7 feet I'd say, and asphalted and WEED-EATED by city personnel. They stretch from village to village, going through valleys and fields and nary a farm house in site. But once you commit to walking, you keep going because there is no going back. I returned back to Hotel Europa 2 hours later and was grateful that today was an American holiday and I was not expected to show up for work!

Memorial Day, 2009. And as I sat on that bench in the middle of the woods on the side of the walking trail, listening to sounds I couldn't identify, I remembered my dad. A WWII veteran with the Air Corps. And I remembered Grandpa Charley, not for his service in WWI but for his pumpkin pie. And I remembered my mom, a veteran in her own right although not a soldier, and there was Gertrude, grandma West and grandma Charley. Many people I have loved who would understand a walk in the woods, sitting on a bench in personal silence surrounded by sound.

Happy holiday!

and on the 7th day she will rest

This is my 6th day in Germany and it started out to be a good one indeed. I am still at the Hotel Europa and went down for breakfast at 6am. I have been in the habit of having lox, cream cheese, maybe an egg and fresh fruit. This morning I had a nervous stomach because I was preparing to take the test for my driver's license so I had granola, fresh strawberries and cream. Coffee of course. Michelle is the woman who prepares breakfast and every morning she addresses me by name and smiles as she brings me not a cup of coffee, but rather a pot of coffee in a silver carafe.

I had opened my book for one last look at german road signs when 15 young female soccer players walked in, hair unkempt, sleep in their eyes, uniforms on, shin guards in place over long naked legs. They head straight for the bagels, commenting to one another they needed carbs. It was a team from England, here for the European HS tournament and the uniforms were dark British green, exactly the uniform Megan wore when she played for Emerald City Select. I looked for number 6 and finally remembered her jersey had been retired and she is now among the yellow flowers in Aunt Connies garden. I think I must have looked awfully silly to these girls (and hopefully not looking like a pedophile) but I couldn't take my eyes off them, neither could I hide the smile nor the lump in my throat.

The test was difficult, 100 questions and 25 specific match questions to road signs. I've never liked "matched" questions but that is neither here nor there, because I get to experience it again next Friday. My score of 83% was 2 points shy of walking out of there with an International Driver License. I had hoped to be able to put one thing away..finished..done..no more concern. Didn't happen.

Next on my list of accomplishments was to be signed off by Occupational Health after dropping by the immunization office and showing proudly the list of shots I received prior to coming to Germany. "Why did they not give you Hep A immunization? or a Polio booster vaccine? and 1 Hep B booster is not enough for 100% protection once the immune system has such a low titre reading." 3 shots later, I walked out without having my signature sheet signed and have to return in 1 month for completion. Another thing that is not finished..done..no more concern. It didn't happen.

But, what did happen is I got full protection from all those horrible diseases that could disable me and ruin my experience in Germany. And, I have no right to be on the road if I can't read the road signs. And, I'm off to watch the girls soccer team play right now, as they are playing down the street. I don't know their name but I hope the Green Team wins.

Life is good, and it is not finished.

Chow for now.

A few observations and fewer facts

1. Today is a quiet day. By law and by ordinance. No unnatural noise is allowed which means no lawn mowing, drilling, sawing. It is a day intended to honor and renew the family and encourages them to take to the walking trails. Quiet time is also enforced throughout the week, beginning at 10pm.

2. German toilets are mounted on the wall, leaving space between the bowl and the floor for adequate cleaning.

3. Right is hot and left is cold.

4. Burial plots are leased for 25 years rather than purchased. At the end of the lease, bones are removed and the plot is recycled. There is an option for renewal of the lease if heirs desire.

5. All 4 vehicle tires must be the same and air pressure must be maintained to the maximum to ensure efficient use of petro.

6 The Good Samaritan Law is in effect, meaning that if a person has the opportunity to help an individual in need and neglects to do so, he or she may be fined.

7. Garbage cans are distributed according to family size. I will receive one small garbage can and one compost can, a yellow, green and blue basket to recycle glass according to color. This is an incentive for me to seek out boxed wine as I think my green bottle collection may exceed weight limit. There is a separate container for paper.

8. There is one church in every Village, a Protestant church...no differentiation of faith, simply Protestant. All church's have bells that ring throughout the Village all day every day. I wonder when chills will stop traveling down my spine at the pure beauty of it all.

9. Germans love big dogs and they have trained them beautifully. I find myself wishing Mickey was at my side. He would love the country side and the weather and I tear up thinking about him.

10. Car horns are not allowed to be used in frustration , only to warn of potential danger. To misuse your sound alert is punishable by a large fine.

11. Yes, today is a quiet day, the sun is shining and I am being beckoned to the walking trail. Gruse Gott my friends.

Remembering the past, preparing for the future

I've been in Germany for less than 96 hours and yet there is more comfort and familiarity than I've realized in a very long time. It took me almost 5 years before I acclimated to the weather in Seattle, and weather aside, there was always a sense that I didn't belong in Seattle. There were many aspects of the city that I loved but interpersonaly, there was an underlying sense that I was an Okie and not as well educated or sophisticated as other mothers in the "play group" of my children. Women I continued to share thoughts and idea's with in Book Club until the time I left Seattle, some 22 years later. They were women I admired, women whom I was intimidated by and even some that I liked. There was not one with whom I would share my dark side, my fears or unhappiness. I understood that these 11 women and their husbands and even their children would come to a Memorial Service should I die, but I wasn't confident that anyone would bring me soup if I were ill.

When I transplanted back to Oklahoma, none of my expectations were realized. It was no longer home except for being in daily contact with my sister. Where as I had expected to "wow" the medical community with my NW knowledge and state of the art case management, I instead alienated myself from the only community I understood. There was suspicion instead of appreciation, and prejudice rather than acceptance coming both from myself and others. It just didn't work. I believed myself to be loosing skills every day I worked and living on a slippery slope made me tense and angry. Personal and social developments developed very slowly and it was not until the month before I left, after having been there almost 5 years, did I understand that some friendships I had made were to be with me a life time.

After I walked Ramstein today, stopping at various neighborhood gardens and belts of green, as I stood in the heart of a small Village and took the time to look beyond the homes with clay roofs to see yellow meadows, larger than rolling hills and various colors of green, did I realize in my heart that I was completely peaceful. I struggled earlier in the day as to where I should live: larger village with congestion and access to shops, pubs, and local market or smaller village with no noise, beautiful countryside but access to the train that would take me to the larger city to see the Ballet, hear the Symphony. Tonight, I am leaning toward the smaller village of Steinwenden-Weltersbach. There is a market, there are restaurants, there are a few shops and of course a bakery on every corner and a train station within a few blocks of a vacant apartment. And there is quiet. There are valleys and fields of tulips, daffodils and lilies to be picked at your leisure and paid for by dropping monies into an empty coffee can based on the honor system.

These are my thoughts tonight as I sit in room 306 at Hotel Europa listening to James Taylor and Jack Johnson, having spent 60 minutes studying for my German driving license test. Peacefulness is just such a wonderful feeling!

Reporting to duty, MAM

Friday, May 15, 2009

I didn't intend to write a blog tonight because it was my first day of work and I even tho' I am energized, I expected my mind to be too full of facts that it would interfere with creativity. However, I remind myself that this is a blog of information sharing and not necessarily one of journalistic publication (or correct spelling) and I will proceed as such.

Lt.Col.Snyder and I have immediately connected in both a professional and personal way. Conversation is easy, real, informative and not defensive. It is strange to me on many levels that I feel relaxed and sense no tension or competitiveness in a work place after feeling only the negatives for over 5 years. And, this is the MILITARY for crying out loud. Also strange for me is the comfort and joy I felt when walking across base. This is the most beautiful environment, verdant, beautifully manicured, quiet, friendly, organized and most like an elite collage campus. My office is very large and I share with no one because they respect that I will be dealing with distraught families and will need not only privacy for the client, but a place to recharge my own emotional batteries. Imagine.

Jennifer, I only have to include her title when in public places, is 45 and has an artist husband who stays at home with a 15 y/o son and 17 y/o daughter. She will retire in 2 years and I am already sorry that she will leave. She is lively, petite, has a wonderful sense of humor, and balances being in charge with a very caring nature. Today was mostly walking to building to building, completing forms that had been previously filled out, taking pictures, getting yet another security badge, trying to set up a post box for me. I have my choice of 2 large gyms which she suggested I use at lunch hour so as not to prolong my day (AGAIN, IMAGINE such a concept!) but we didn't have time to tour them.

Tomorrow morning she will pick me up at 9am and drive me around to look at apts/houses. I suggested that we spend the time looking at villages rather than actual apartments so I can get a feel for where I want to live. I keep thinking of Landstuhl and met a woman who lives there and takes the bus in every morning, but I'm also thinking of KaiserSlautern (a colleague lives there in city square and would consider nothing else.) KaiserSlautern is around 100,000 and Landstuhl is about half the population. The first is 30 minutes away and the latter 10-15. The largest train hub is in Landstuhl and the "ice train" is 2h 28 m to the center of Paris. There is a huge beer/circus/fair in KaiserSlautern this weekend (7 days to be exact) and I have the telephne number of the woman who lives there with her 16 y/o daughter and am committed to finding the train station in Ramstein, navigating the system and spending the day with her on sunday,

Tomorrow evening I have been invited to a going away party at "Schnapps Resturant" for a person I have not met but will gladly go. I am being picked up at Hotel Europa from another someone I don't know. When i inquired as to the appropriate dress I was told " I will be wearing what you wore when you got off the plane. jeans." I hope hers are clean!

This was my first workday in Ramstein, Germany and I eagerly await more.

I made it thus far

Arrived in Frankfurt on time and was greeted by 2 high official air force officers, both women in their mid to late 30's, slightly built with one being much taller than the other. Both were wearing fatiques and combat boots and had an unexpected sweet and gentle nature albeit an organized personality. I fell asleep in the car in the middle of a sentence which caused much laughter as the day went on. I was dropped off at Hotel Europa, my accomodations for at least 30 days, and gifted with 2 cases of water, fresh fruit, low fat Triskets and trail mix. I was "ordered" to stay awake until 9pm and expect to be picked up by 8am tomorrow to begin my orientation.

As tired as I was, I wanted to get a head start on exploring what will be home for who knows how long. Believing in packing light, I took only my cigarettes, passport and a $20 euro, also left for me by the Lt. Col. Ramstein is not small. I walked for 4 and a half hours and was awstruck by the cleanliness of the streets (yes, I believe they still sweep their stoops), the well maintained homes, the narrow streets and unbelievable flower and vegetable gardens no matter how small the green space in individual lots. This encourages me in being able to find a place with outdoor living space. I can't describe the architecture yet (sorry Austen.)

I stopped in a neigborhood pub with outside seating and had a german beer and reflected on how easy the transition has been. I had a short conversation with a young woman at the pub who was reading Dovstetscky in the original verse and discussed various villages I may consider. I am drawn to Landstuhl for no good reason but saw the sign that says it is 3 KM away. I'm hoping to visit it over the weekend. I found a really good hardware store (similar to Chuby and Tubby's in Seattle) that had beautiful potting plants and I'm excited about planting again. Also, I located the local food market and even tho' they had gorgeous fruits, vevetables, enormous fresh cheese and fish and meat, plus aisles and aisles of French, Spanich, Chile and German wines starting at $3 ero PLUS as much of a selection of beers, I was disappointed that I didn't find the little individual specialty markets we saw in Prague and Vienna. Please remember, my search has only begun.

My legs are sore and so are my feet because I am unaccustomed to walking on cobblstone, therefore I will dine on Chev Brie Cockshl cheese, grapes and a small bottle of J.P. Chenet cab/sab from Frannce. For desert I will have trailmix. All in the privacy of my room 306 Hotel Europa. My plans are nice hot shower, and I may or may not make it until 9pm. But, I will have fresh clothes and be ready to go tomorrow morrning.

I had meaning special thoughts of my friends in Tulsa, knowing that at least 3 of you could name the flowers in bloom.