Peter and Joni's Excellent Retirement

Vienna, The Naschmarkt

2011-03-19T04:37:00.000-07:00

It has been way too long since I posted anything and so much has happened. Goodness! The first order of business is to complete the posting of our trip to Vienna in February.

One of our favorite days was visiting the Naschmarkt. As in Marrakesh, the open markets are seductive and sensual. Luscious fruits, pungent cheeses, crusty breads, colorful sweets, delicate handmade pastas, smelly fish, and cured meats were available along side spices, vegetables, and flowers. These are the places that make life worth living. Fortunately, there are lots of restaurants in the Naschmarkt that can assist in handling the hunger that comes from viewing all of these goodies.

Tulips from Austria - in February!

Nougats, marzipan, chocolates, nuts, and dried fruits

Exotic and familiar fruits

Hard and soft cheeses from the mountains and valleys

Incredibly crisp and fresh vegetables

Frutti del Mare

Savory Breads

Spices - unlike Marrakesh and Vladikavkaz - they are already bagged.

Dry sausages and cured hams

Freshly prepared ravioli and spaghetti

Splendid Vienna - the achitecture

2011-02-20T11:11:00.000-08:00

One of our very favorite cities is Vienna. In every way, she reflects the grandeur of a capitol city most especially because of the extraordinary architecture, wide boulevards, and open parks. My favorites are the 19th century apartment houses but then, I turn a corner and see Jugenstile from the early 20th century and I question my first choice. Turn another corner and a stunning yellow Baroque palace, most associated with Maria Theresa in the second half of the 18th century, stops my heart. No doubt I look like a "peasant come to town" as I gawk at the fantastically designed store fronts and sophisticated citizens wearing stylish leather boots and full-length fur coats. If I lived here (or Salzburg), I have to admit, I would wear one too.

Kettenbrückengasse - beautiful buildings (and the Nasch Markt - more that later).

Close up of one of the pretty apartment buidings.

Schönbrunn - Maria Theresa's summer palace - the unfinished palace was a gift from her daddy.

One of the Jugenstile facades.

New Year - The Quickening

2011-02-08T13:22:00.000-08:00

The notion of the quickening is old and the feeling is ageless. Those in our dearest circle know that we become more alert and aware when there is life or threats to it. Today has been one of those days. First, we received a call from Ria that Melanie was in the hospital. Eight months pregnant, gestational diabetes, and a lung infection - not so good. News from home about two of "our kids" needing to check in with doctors. Lastly, our Chancellor Ken - a heart incident (is expected to fully recover - thankfully). Parents, family, siblings, and friends only want to reach out and make each of these people well. The quickening - the awareness of life - it is subtle, special and scary..

Taking in the Countryside

2011-02-05T11:41:00.000-08:00

This week we have faithfully taken at least one 50-60 minute walk every day and if we walk in the morning, we also take another one in the afternoon. It isn't just for the conversation - which cover topics from Arabic uprisings in North Africa (Tunisia and Egypt) to the type of car we will purchase when we return home (Ford Escape hybrid beats Audi Q5 for gas mileage and price but not style!) - but also for the views throughout the countryside. Here are a few reminders of what we see everyday.

The Chiemsee - note the snow on the shores and the Alps in the background.


Erlstätt - our fair village - from the little hill

New Year - New Project

2011-02-05T11:27:00.000-08:00

This week has been very low key ... we are in a routine that I would hope we continue at home. We wake, have a pleasant breakfast, read the e-version of NYTimes or International Herald Tribune (iPad), walk in the morning to discuss world issues (Egypt has been this week's topic!), return for a warm lunch (lots of roasted brussel sprouts this week), take a short nap (love my naps), read/work/talk, make a phone call or answer emails, prepare Abendsbrot, watch Jon Stewart (show from the night before) and then head to bed to read our books. My work for this trip has been a box of letters from my Uncle Randy to my Nana starting in 1968.

Box of letters - cost over $50 to ship them to Germany

I began reading these letters in November and tried to take notes on them as I read them... which caused me to avoid reading more than about 10 of them. In the middle of January, Peter began to hint that I needed to get back to the letters. I resisted because I just didn't want to keep taking notes. He suggested that I should just read them like a novel. So - this week, I picked them up and began to do just that. I can't put them down. There is much to say about what he has written - but for now, suffice it to say, I am reading them.

Uncle Randy was hired Mr. Sherman at Louis G. Sherman Wholesale Decorator Furniture in 1953. At the time the letters begin, Mr. Sherman is dead and Uncle Randy and Homer Moore run/own the business and are taking care of Mrs. Sherman. "Madame: (as they call her) is ever so friendly, if slightly forgetful. Located in Santa Monica, California - Louis G. Sherman was one of "the" places for the rich and famous to purchase their furniture and have their decorating needs met.

New Year - 55th Birthday

2011-01-31T16:18:00.000-08:00

My Dad said that next year I would be speeding... but for now, I'm legal. No one in the world has been happier than I am on their 55th birthday - of this I am certain.

The Yas sent a card and flowers... unbelievably beautiful flowers from the Rosencavalier Florist in Traunstein.

This arrangement is about 3 feet tall!

Then, we spent the day in Munich. What a wonderful day - trains, snow, coffee at Dallmayr (decandant marble pound cake), new slacks and shades for Peter and perfume for me! To top it off, we had dinner with Sabina, Bernhardt, Nicolas and Patrick - our favorite pizza, champagne and wine. They had lovely flowers for me as well. We left their apartment on Kaiserstrasse at 8:20 pm and, with 2 minutes to spare, caught our 8:54 pm train to Traunstein from the Ostbahnhof... at 10:30 pm, we were in our apartment in Erlstätt!

The colors and arrangement are stunning!

We returned home to find a card from Matt Dull - what a sweetie - along with a cake and more flowers from our landlords (Sabrina and Walter and their 3 children)!

It has yet to be cut.

The promise of spring!

New Year - Familiar Paths

2011-01-30T07:28:00.000-08:00

Our afternoon walks through the countryside are wonderful. There are two in particular that we like in Erlstätt - one takes us over a hill and into a neighboring village and the other through a field and a forest. The snow is deep and falls regularly and yet we are always amazed at the number of people who walk every day on these paths. Neither of us can remember what could be seen prior to the winter white. In the spring, it will probably feel like we are in another place.

Brrrrr.....

The field and forest

Sometimes we feel like we are walking in Siberia

The school buses do not go to every house. If you lived on this farm, you would walk about a mile to catch the bus. German community development is very strict about where houses can be built and which services are connected. Farms like this are extremely important to the economy. Bavarian dairy production relies on such farms and they surround us. At the same time, mass transit works where the majority of the people live (in the village). Children of farmers are either met by their parents at the bus stop or they walk to the bus stop. School has not been canceled a single time this winter.

New Year - New Plans

2011-01-29T03:44:00.000-08:00

Several options opened up this week for the year.

First, we have a couple of trips lined up. Munich for my birthday on Monday; Vienna for Valentine's weekend (Feb. 10-13); and Sicily with dear friends the first week of March. Peter has a hankering to visit Olomouc, Czech Republic where we taught for several summers so that might enter the line-up as well.

Coffee House on the Odeonsplatz, Munich

And then, there were positive conversations with McGraw-Hill about a future with Robert Feldman's P.O.W.E.R. Learning textbook(s) for first year students; Cindy Wallace and I have been involved with this project since 1999. Both of us love working with first year college students and Bob Feldman is a very talented writer, faculty member, and university administrator (UMass-Amherst). Our part of project has been to write the instructor's resource manuals and to provide workshops for faculty and administrators. Being part of McGraw Hill's efforts has allowed us to meet incredibly interesting people.

Life continues to be good.

New Year - Normal Days

2011-01-27T12:42:00.000-08:00

Sometimes it is a magical to live a normal day. You know - the kind of day that consists of sleep, conversation, readings, a walk, and three simple meals. The kind of day that is lived over and over because it is familiar and enjoyable. Nothing spectacular happened and nothing disastrous did either. Here is to the normal day.

A January walk in the fields of Erlstätt

South Tyrol - walks and talks

2011-01-23T13:43:00.000-08:00

Only 2 days after we returned from Marrakesh, we found ourselves back in South Tyrol. Nadja and Merko returned from Vietnam and we picked them up from the airport in Munich and drove them to Sterzing. Following a good night's sleep (we arrived at 1 am), we drove to Afers. Emma - as always - welcomed us and we stayed from Monday through Wednesday. It would have been longer but the weather report suggested that Thursday would be 0 degrees and precipitation --- not a good day to travel. During our brief stay, we managed a walk to our favorite Alm. The return trip required a little sledding time on our butts since it was simply too icy to try and walk down. A beautiful day in the Alps.

Pietler Kofl in the Dolomites

Peter bei Schätzer Hütte- he worked there as a teenager and as a child herded cows on the Alm

Joni at the Schätzer Hütte with Ortler Alps (Italy) in the background.

Skiers on the Plose.

The end of the run.

Marrakesh - El Bahia Palace

2011-01-23T13:38:00.000-08:00

The Royal Palace reflects 19th century wealth. Built in two periods by a father and a son, the El Bahia Palace is an irregular rectangle. The internal gardens are lush - we saw banana, lemon, and orange trees. The fountains and flowers were intoxicating - jasmine, bougainvillea, cypress, and poinsettias. The tile work is astonishing and the jeweled glass work delightful.

Banana Tree

Poinsettia trees!

Courtyards

Fountains in the inner courtyard

Jeweled glass in the windows


Reflections on the walls from the glass windows

Marrakesh - The Saadian Tombs

2011-01-23T12:47:00.000-08:00

We are easy to spot. We are tourists seeking the Saadian Tombs in Marrakesh. We are all walking around with sunglasses, backpacks, and maps. There is NO signage to this amazing discovery and guidebooks warned us... "you will be approached by seemingly friendly residents who will lead you to the tombs and expect payment once you are at the door." How hard can it be to find this extraordinary archeological discovery by pilots flying over Marrakesh in 1917? Apparently - very hard.

We eventually stumbled upon a business man who was willing only to point the way - and paid the 10 Dirham entrance fee (less than 1 euro) each. We are talking about a cemetery. I have problems with the notion that I should pay someone to show me where the cemetery is... and that might be MY problem, not theirs.

The Tombs are an astonishing site of solitude and peace ... beautiful, quiet, calm and restful in this tumultuous city.

We shared the secret pathway with the next tourists we saw -- backpack and map in hand - and we did not ask them for money.

Marrakesh - Jemaa El Fna

2011-01-23T03:41:00.000-08:00

Okay - I have written about the Jemaa El Fna before, but there is more to say and show. It is the heart of Marrakesh and the world crosses through it. Innumerable languages; cacophony of drums, flutes, and bells; jumbled traffic of cars, pedestrians, motorcycles, bicycles, donkey carts, trucks, horses, and carriages. Smoke and fire from food stalls selling temptingly roasted chicken and french fries. Clearly, my favorite place.

Yep - that's us at the edge of Jemaa El Fna

People, people, people headed towards the Jemaa El Fna

Woman bargaining for her fresh vegetables


Leather goods

Clothing for all

The Mosque at sunset

Jemaa El Fna at night

Marrakesh - Joni and the camel

2011-01-23T02:36:00.000-08:00

The only item on my Morocco "wish list" was to ride a camel. Don't know why this was such a big deal except I didn't have any idea of when I would ever be able to do it again. So here are the pictures of my personal favorite Moroccan moment.

Procuring a camel is easy - these are down from the Menara Gardens and Pavillion on the outskirts of the old city. I had help getting on and once I was up, it was easy for me (don't know about the camel). It was a bit like sitting on an old couch and swaying along. My camel (we called him Figaro) was sweet tempered and kind. It was rather thrilling and I would definitely do this again!

Reflections and images of Marrakesh

2011-01-20T13:09:00.000-08:00

There is so much more to share about Marrakesh than you would like to read so I will share these pictures and an observation.

The reason I like Marrakesh more than Casablanca or Agadir is because of Jemaa El Fna. The central market place of Marrakesh is a jumble of everyone - poor and rich, visitor and resident. Rather than the false separation of the coastal towns (rich on the beach, poor beyond the shores)... everyone meets in the middle of Marrakesh. It is vibrant, noisy, open, and alive because everyone has space in the middle.

The chickens on the back of his bike are alive.

Do you realize how difficult it is to keep Peter from buying carpets?

Dancers and Musicians

Fragrant flowers and herbs


Unbelievably good orange juice - fresh, pulpy and sweet!

Agadir

2011-01-15T01:02:00.000-08:00

We think the words on the mountain side are "God, Country, King"

On the west coast of Morocco the longest beach front town is Agadir. It is a well known vacation spot for Germans and so we decided to take a look. It meant crossing the Atlas Mountains and Peter was really excited about this aspect of the trip. Remember, I am married to an historian. There are no trains to Agadir and we had witnessed enough crazy driving in Marrakesh to be timid about driving so we went to the bus station which is beside the train station. With only 300 Dirham in our pockets we tried the ATM in the train station but it was out of order. We figured there would be another one in the bus terminal but we were wrong.

Unlike our train station ticket experience, the third world mentality of transportation was revealed in the bus station. Two women and a man were behind the counter and perhaps ten or so people were crowded up trying to buy tickets that were pre-printed but had to be scribbled on by the clerk for use. It took us about 5 or 6 minutes to figure out how things were working and then we managed to call out "Agadir" during a nanosecond of quiet and hold up two fingers. One of the women looked up and acknowledged our order and signed the tickets. I handed her 200 Dirham for 2 one-way tickets to Agadir with the knowledge that we would need to get money and return tickets once we arrived on the coast.

The bus was new and very nice - and one travels to Agadir from Marrakesh every two hours beginning at 9 am. And, there is a fine new motorway that has been built through the mountains to encourage more traffic on this old trade route. The trip takes 3.5 hours and includes a 20 minute stop at a fancy motorway rest stop and cafe. It was extremely pleasant and the views of the countryside told a completely different story than the cityscape. If you want to go to Agadir - this is a very pleasant way to do it. Peter commented on how the mountains looked like those we had seen in the Caucasus and he had seen in Alaska. The highest peak of the Atlas is Toubkal, with an elevation of 4167 metres (13671 ft) and is visible from the road. This particular motorway was just opened last year (built from 2006-2010) and is extremely nice. Once out of Marrakesh, we believe that driving to Agadir would be easy. The bus terminal in Agadir is a long ways away from the beach and you need to take a cab to the shore. Both of our Agadir cab drivers used a meter - a very novel idea - and so no bargaining was needed for the trip.

In the end, we don't recommend Agadir for its history or things to do. It was destroyed in 1960 by an earthquake that killed at least 15,000 people and left the ancient Kabash in ruins. It has been rebuilt as a resort town with huge hotels on the waterfront, a pleasant promenade, and nice outdoor restaurants. There is a fortress at the end of the long cove that makes for an outstanding view point but in the end, it is just that. Miami's South Beach, France's Cannes, and Spain's Mallorca are more interesting as urban beaches. Emerald Isle (NC) and Sullivan's Island(SC) are simply prettier than any of them.

View from our table at lunch

The big news was that the King of Morocco (Muhammed VI) was in town. The Moroccan flag was everywhere and police were stationed at every intersection. And, as we departed Agadir that afternoon, we witnessed his motorcade whisking him to the airport. Lots of black humvees and blinking lights with uniformed men looking out the vehicle windows.

I think next time we would chose to explore Essaouira.

Agadir Beach front

Tiny Dancer - she swirled and danced with her shadow for almost 30 minutes.

Snow-capped Atlas Mountains

Casablanca

2011-01-14T13:17:00.000-08:00

Peter in our authentic Moroccan restaurant - vegetable tagines beyond compare!

Epic, legendary, romantic. Who would have thought that a girl from Wilson, North Carolina would ever be in Casablanca? Certainly not me.

When you think of Peter and me in Morocco think of the following scene in Indiana Jones:

Elsa: It's perfectly obvious where the pages are. He's given them to Marcus Brody.
Professor Henry Jones: Marcus? You didn't drag poor Marcus along did you? He's not up to the challenge.
Walter Donovan: He sticks out like a sore thumb. We'll find him.
Indiana Jones: The hell you will. He's got a two day head start on you, which is more than he needs. Brody's got friends in every town and village from here to the Sudan, he speaks a dozen languages, knows every local custom, he'll blend in, disappear, you'll never see him again. With any luck, he's got the grail already.
[ Cut to middle of fair in the Middle East, Marcus Brody wearing bright suit and white hat, sticking out like sore thumb]
Marcus Brody: Uhhh, does anyone here speak English?

We are white - albino white - amid a world of exotic dark beauty. The cab driver knew we 1) had more money than he had, 2) wanted to see Casablanca, and 3) could be charmed by a smile and stories of his children (ages 6, 10, and 15).

For only 200 Dirham, he would show us Casablanca for two hours. He wanted 250 but we agreed on 200. Big mistake. Note to self... next time - pay the full price.

He showed us Rick's Cafe, the stunning mosque, the ocean and the waterfront promenade, the villa of King Abdullah Bin Abdulazic (Saudi Arabia), neighborhoods of the rich and famous, and fantastic shopping streets. Then - as per our request - he took us to a wonderful restaurant for an incredible meal. It was only a short walk straight ahead to the train station.

Not.

The food was delicious. The restaurant was authentic, intimate, and memorable. The train station was 3 kilometres away through a district reminiscent of the old ASU/NY Loft on Vestry Street. Perilously close to dangerous poverty. A drunken man verbally abused a woman on the street in front of us and we saw but did not intervene. Later, she stood in the middle of traffic - confused and belligerent. My heart said "save her" and my brain said "walk on." This continues to trouble us both.

The ocean front athletic club for swimming and relaxing.

The ocean pounded the shoreline. It was a dramatic and breath-taking. The old palace did not allow photos and the lack of maintenance was evident.

We left at 4:50 pm and arrived in Marrakesh at 8 that evening. Glad to be "home."

Rick's Cafe


Hassan II Mosque in Casablanca - built from 1986-1993 - on the ocean.


Stunning naves

The extraordinary tile work and me... in a pashmina head covering. Take one wherever you go!

Travelers in a Strange Land

2011-01-14T00:53:00.000-08:00

The French word for traveler is voyageur and it creates a fabulous image in my mind of unknown destinations and observations.

Our base for the week is Marrakesh but we decided to take two day trips - one to Casablanca (also known as Casa Voyageurs) and the other to Agadir. With no trouble, we booked passage on the train to Casablanca, a 3 hour trip, for only 300 Dirham (less than 30 Euros) per person roundtrip/2nd class. The trains are not new but they are comfortable, roomy, clean and on time! The only hiccup for the day occurred on our arrival at Marrakesh's beautiful new train station. Since it is only a 10 minute walk from our hotel, we arrived at 8:40 am for our 9 am departure. We walked confidently to the door leading to the gates expecting the other to produce the tickets. Neither of us had them. I had given them to Peter the night before and watched him hide them (from himself) under the desk blotter and assumed that he remembered to bring them. We quickly ran outside, grabbed a petit taxi that delivered us to the hotel to grab the tickets and returned us to the train station in less than 8 minutes. We handed him 30 Dirhams (less than 3 Euros) and he didn't even try to bargain - which means he was very happy with us ... and we with him!

Signs as Art - in Arabic and French

Our map and tickets!

The new and very modern train station in Marrakesh

New Year, New Lands

2011-01-14T00:13:00.000-08:00

We arrived in Marrakesh on Thursday, January 6th. Nothing I have ever done prepared me for this - not Beijing, Tokyo, or Vladikavkaz - although I drew on those experiences to orient myself. Morocco is another world. The bargaining (Beijing), the spice markets (Vladikavkaz), and signage (Tokyo) reminded me every minute that I was "not in Kansas" anymore. The sights, sounds, and smells confused and delighted us. Chipped and blackened tagines turned potatoes, zucchini, onions, carrots, and peas into mouth-watering dishes that could only be honored by sopping the remaining juices with chunks of bread. Olives ... oh the olives... black, red, and green with herbs and oil. And then, the fruits... oranges, apricots, dates, prunes, raisins, and figs. The hauntingly soulful calls to prayer, the fluted song of the snake charmers, the drums of the dancers. This land is a paradise for the senses.

Yummy olives - almost ate them all before thinking to take a picture

Dried fruits in the market

Okay - I know this is "oh so the tourist" but I had to take (and pay) for this picture.

The Gift of Holy Night, Christmas Day and the holidays

2011-01-01T13:47:00.000-08:00

We arrived in Sterzing on December 23rd. Nadja left the key for us and we entered the newly built apartment and found ourselves amazed. The view from the kitchen and the heating system are equally astonishing. In the picture below - the house "oven" is the gray and silver box that about a little larger than a cubic meter in the wall; 2 pieces of wood heats the house for the day. The floors are heated from hot air that circulates through specially designed pipes in the foundation. Except for the astonishing view of the Alps, the apartment looked like a modern New York loft. The vision of the past (Afers and Wegis Hof) to the future (Nadja's new home) overwhelmed us.

Hans (Nadja's father), Nadja and Joni at the fondue dinner on Holy Night

On the 24th, Nadja and I trimmed the tree -- red and silver with white candles. Later we visited the Christmas Market in Sterzing with a few packages in tow. The highlight of the day would our family dinner (fondue!) with Nadja, Merko, Hans, Martina, Arnold, Iliona and their two children - Ian and Ivey. Following this very warm and friendly meal was opening gifts. The modesty that Peter and Nadja promised was not apparent. We received amazing gifts of food from South Tyrol and European culture (tickets to the New Year's Day concert in Salzburg!)

Nadja and Martina lighting the sparklers on the tree (the candles are already lit)

Nadja and Peter

On the 26th, Nadja and Merko left for a 3 week trip to Vietnam - we traveled to Afers for a short visit with Emma and research for Peter. Our last night included a performance of Die Fledermaus in Brixen. The music of Johann Strauss was beautiful, the story (as always)- ridiculous. Amazing to have been there!

We arrived in Erlstätt on December 30th. Ushi - the housekeeper - had totally cleaned the apartment since we had both ended up with the stomach bug before leaving and had no time to clean. Every corner, every cobweb has been subdued and the place has been put to order. She even ironed the bed linens made the pillows stand at attention. She has been hired for the duration. What a relief!

New Year's Eve was a present to me -- "the outside looking in." We reserved New Year's Eve dinner at the Stiftskeller St. Peter and while it was a lovely setting, exquisite menu, ridiculously expensive, and highly desired ... it reminded me that I would prefer to prepare an intimate meal on New Year's Eve with true friends. Yet - unless I had experienced it, I would have always wondered if "there was something better. " Now I know differently. I might not be able to replicate the fireworks but I can certainly improve on the meal. The music provided between the courses was very good (selections from Le Nozze Di Figaro, Don Giovanni, and Die Zauberflöte) with a nice rendition of Queen of the Night sung by soprana, Rutana Calugarescu. (Ah ha a ah a) A nod to Joanne and Jim Lynagh - I cannot improve on your New Year's celebration!

Dressed in our "Glad Rags" for New Year's

Our dining room in Stiftskeller St. Peter, Salzburg

NEW YEAR'S DAY -this was different from the night before. We arrived home at 3 am and slept until 10 am. A pleasant bread and coffee breakfast was followed by dressing for the day. Arrived at Marianne's at noon - lamb, beans, potato cakes and beautiful dessert -- card playing friends --- an artist, Charlotte, and Melanie joined us. Little pigs all around. Departed for Salzburg at 1:50 pm -- arrived in time for the concert. AMAZING. Be envious of this -- (not of the dinner the night before) -- I would do this every year for the rest of my life --- concert on the afternoon of New Year's Day. Fabulous. Elisabeth Fuchs is the conductor -- Schostakowitsch - Jazz Suite Nr. 2 - and Orff's Carmina Burana - with 3 full choirs!

Life is sweet!

Marianne's New Year's Day table

I took this picture after the performance - not during

The Gift of Making Memories

2010-12-19T10:35:00.000-08:00

The fourth Sunday in Advent... I took the Advent Wreath into the "sick room" (Peter and the Grippe) tonight so that we could light the candles together. And, it was time to give him another cup of tea and catch him up on the activities of the afternoon (since he slept through it all).

Katarina came upstairs around 3 pm and we baked Christmas cookies. Now, I am "making do" with the whole baking scene. Remember, we don't want to buy things that we aren't willing to leave behind, so I didn't buy a rolling pin or Christmas cookie cutters - have a blue moon million at home. Instead, we used the 10 inch cylindrical, pottery vase as a rolling pin and a drinking glass to cut out the dough. Katarina is only 3 years old ... she'll get over any baking nightmares I might have created in her young life. Boy, she is bossy! (And, I know bossy.)

Katarina rolling dough. Note the crown.

Don't know if the kitchen is big enough for a queen and a princess!

First, she tells me that we need a little "mehl" so that the dough won't stick. I am so on top of this - here comes the flour. Then she says, we only needed a little and this was a lot. Next, she is sure that she needs to roll out the dough but confronts me on the use of a vase as not what she needs. I show her how to use it as a roller and she looks at me and sighs. Clearly, I have a lot to learn about baking but she takes the vase/roller and goes after it. All of a sudden, she realizes she needs an apron. Viola~ I have one but she cannot tell me enough times that it is too big for her. I wrap and roll it up so it is above her feet which subdues her anguish. You can imagine her comments over using the drinking glass to cut out the cookies. And remember, I am being chastised in German the whole time. She also knows Italian - but today, the only Italian word she used was grigio as she described the color of the silver/gray sparkles. She said they were the same color as my hair. Nice. Wendell, I need you.

I believe I know who will remember more of this day. Below - the results of our efforts.

The Gift of Health

2010-12-19T04:14:00.000-08:00

Uh oh... I should have known something was up - or shall I say about to come up. Peter wasn't feeling too good when we went to bed and sure enough ... around midnight... "THE GRIPPE!" struck. After a final up and down at 4 am, Peter finally fell sound asleep. At 9 am, I slipped out to find some Zwieback and ginger ale. On a Sunday morning in Germany, this is not an easy task since stores simply don't operate on Sunday. Fortunately, the gas station in Traunstein was open for business and lodged between two kinds of cookies and above the beer and wine (always available), there were two packages of mini-klassic Zwieback. I took them both and later felt guilty when I realized that someone else might need some today too.

Our landlord, Walter, is a doctor and when he returned home from church this morning, I asked him to come up and check on the Sweet Pete. After a few minutes consultation, he assured us that Peter would live (whew!) and that the entire house had experienced this inconvenience during the week - even the good doctor. This explained why Katarina and her brothers had not been up to see us since last weekend. We thought it was because their mother worried that they had interrupted us too much (something we overheard her say to them last Sunday). After Walter went downstairs, little Katarina tip toed to our door - at least as much as a 3 year old in ski boots can tip toe - so that she could see "the Petschauer" (her name for Peter). I took her to the bedroom door and let her peek in. She smiled sweetly and waved to him - no doubt improving his life expectancy seven-fold.

Homemade chicken noodle soup and Zwieback.

The Gift of GIFTS

2010-12-19T03:51:00.000-08:00

Yesterday, a package arrived from home. Sweet sister Kelly sent us a box of gifts, wrapped with love. As we opened the ones that said "Open Now!" we thought about the joy of past Christmas mornings with our family. Stocking gifts are perhaps the best. Nothing is wildly expensive in them (with the exception of the roll of stamps that Dad usually slides inside) but every item is a reminder of how lucky we are. No doubt, Kelly spent as much to mail the box as she spent on the gifts ... but there will never be a way to tell her how much this package meant to us. My father sent us a prettily wrapped box containing a ziplock bag - filled with the shredded remains of a check I had mailed for him "to handle a piece of personal business."

Later in the day, we had a Ya Ya Christmas celebration. At 5 pm (our time), 11 am (Boone time) - we skyped with our dear friends at home. There were champagne and wine toasts on both ends of the call and presents to open as well. The conversation reassured us of the well-being of our dearest friends - especially as they reported the expected arrival of their children and family members from all over the country. We have known these kids forever and love each of them so much. Hannah from Colorado, Mason from Tennessee, Walker from Florida, Davis from "off the mountain in Louisburg." Will, who returned home from New York as a fragile bundle of broken bones in July, is recovering well from an accident. From a picture his mother sent us - he reminds us that being young has its advantages and the care of parents can work miracles!

We are so grateful for our friends and so amazed to live in these times. Merry Christmas!

Our little Christmas tree - the candles are real!

The Gifts of Freedom - Day 4

2010-12-17T01:45:00.000-08:00

Another day in Berlin and all of the questions and thoughts about being free collided when we saw the preserved portion of the Wall. I simply wept.

Martin Luther believed that a person who had religious faith was a free person. He provided a means for people to discover that faith when he translated the Bible and began public schools. His philosophy freed people.

The cities of Vacha and Eisenach experienced the aftermath of the Second World War differently - one as a closed city and the other an open one. Their access to political discourse was vastly different, as were their economies.

Berlin experienced personal and political difference every day as a city divided following WWII. The personal courage of Kennedy on October 27, 1961 to declare that West Berlin would remain free when US and East German tanks faced off at Checkpoint Charlie ... sustained a crack in that wall ... and helped lead to the crumbling of it less than 30 years later on November 9, 1989. Germany was reunited in 1990.

There is a powerful outdoor display telling stories about the Wall - where the wall once stood. And the Topography of Terrorism is a library and museum that chronicles the cruel ideology of the Nazis, the horror and outcomes of WWII, the trials at Nuremberg, the split of Berlin, and the lessons of terror.

Spent and silent, we managed to find our way to an intimate private museum that housed works of Käthe Kollwitz - one of my favorite artists and social critics of war. Her work is not what one would call "cheerful" but it is strong, independent, truthful and courageous. It gave me hope.

Check Point Charlie

I was leaving the American Sector.

Preserved portion of the Wall - underneath this section are excavated interrogation rooms used by the Gestapo.

One of my heroes - Käthe Kollwitz.

Dusk on the vibrant and lovely Kurfürstendamm in Berlin.

The Gifts of Freedom - Day 3

2010-12-16T11:30:00.000-08:00

Berlin. Oh my. Peter was born here! But, he left as a 3 month old baby and returned in 1986 for a week. Obviously, he had no idea where anything was. The hotel concierge became our best friend.

We set out to learn what we could about Berlin's treasures but knew that we would only have a short time on this trip. Museum Island was a must - primarily because of Nefertiti. Brandenburg Gate and the Bundestag... as well as Berlin's noted transportation system. We used every form of transportation with the exception of taxis and planes. It was marvelous although I have to say that it took us until the second full day to connect the maps between the S/U Bahns and the Trams. Once that was done, Berlin was our oyster!

Walking through the snow to the Neues Museum (full of the Egyptology and the beautiful bust of Nefertiti) and the Altes National Galarie (Peter von Cornelius wasn't there - darn it - foiled again!), Peter pointed out the damage from WWII. I had not even noticed but, of course, there were the pock mocks of gunfire and repair of whole sections of columns. In the effort to move ahead, it is easy to forget that this city was destroyed because of a terrible ideology. And yet, there is this sacred space for art.... and especially the heritage of humanity. How else can we explain the existence of ancient papyrus with translations of the Illiad? How else can we pass along to others the beauty and dignity of Nefertiti? We took the day and visited just two museums (had lunch at the museum cafe) and then moved on to the Brandenburg Gate and Bundestag. Our day ended with the Christmas Market on the Alexanderplatz and a very nice dinner in the hotel. The antiquities, the art, the architecture --- we were full!

Nefertiti (okay - this is off the website - you can't take pictures)

The Altes National Galarie (we took this picture)

Brandenburg Gate (and this one)

Bundestag (And this one. It was snowing!)

The Gifts of Freedom - Day 2.5

2010-12-16T10:47:00.000-08:00

We left Eisenach around noon in a nice steady snow with Berlin as our next destination. Our trusty ole' Bavarian Panzer (the 10 year old Mercedes) handled the roads well. It ought to - it weighs a ton and has the required snow tires! Not only were we delighted we spent the night in Eisenach because of its historical significance, its nearness to the A4 proved to be extremely valuable.

The trip took the entire afternoon and as I mentioned in the introduction to this trip - we had no delays. We drove through snow... up hills, over hills, and down mountains. We were steady and never fast by German standards. The result? At 4:30 pm we were circling the southeast outer ring of Berlin. The problem? We only had directions to the hotel from the northwest side of the outer ring (Tegel Airport). We followed signs that pointed to Zentrum but after 45 minutes of never finding our way (no map) ... Peter pulled out our trusty cell phone and called the hotel. We were close enough (within blocks) that the receptionist had us at the front door within 8 minutes! Hooray.

By the way --- BERLIN IS HUGE!

We were a little frazzled and while we would have loved to have taken the city by storm that night, we chose to have a wonderful dinner at a recommended neighborhood Italian restaurant and return to the room for a good night's sleep. We were wise on all accounts. The restaurant was a 10 minute walk away in a wonderful neighborhood - Il Pane e le Rose. (The Bread and the Roses) Of course, it was dark and snowing and of course, German parents were out with their children in prams and on sleds.

We rested well.

Street in Berlin - in snow

Room in the Leonardo Royal Hotel Berlin -- 78 Euros/night plus an awesome breakfast!

Il Pane e le Rose

The Gifts of Freedom - Day 2

2010-12-16T01:33:00.000-08:00

Where to begin?

Eisenach survived WWII and because of its historical significance, survived the East German/Soviet period, as a tourist town. The architecture is stunning and ranges from the 11th-century (Wartburg Castle) to the present (Opel/GM Motors and Bosch). The residential and city squares with the remaining Nicolaitor and Nicolas Church along with the Luther Haus, St. George's Church, old town castle and Rathaus enchanted us. A visit to the Luther Haus (legend has it, he lived there for 3 school years) allowed us to imagine the home of a wealthy burger during late 15th century. Frederick the Wise served as Luther's protector when he returned to Eisenach some years later and translated the New Testament into German.

Now - this is a big deal. It has so much to do with the literacy of the German people. From this text, standardization of German language can be traced. It became the book from which the German people (men, women and children) learned to read/recognize certain words. Further, it provided the moral code for families and communities; and it provided a common tool in the establishment of schools. Luther established the first public schools! Of course, we are talking about five centuries of a habit of literacy - longer than the United States has been a country. It is interesting that the despair over the end of printed newspapers is not a source of discussion here. Plenty of small town, national and international newspapers exist with multiple newspaper/tobacco stores in every town. Newspapers are still posted on walls and in cases near the Rathaus and people still stand in front and read. The same is true in coffee houses - which provide newspapers for customers to read while there. It is a culture of rampant literacy.

Reading is fundamental to freedom.

Peter inviting me into the Luther Haus. Notice the beautiful round glass in the windows on the first floor.

St. Georg's Kirche - note the neo-Romanesque ceiling, the tiered galleries. Luther preached here. Johanne Sebastian Bach was baptized here and, along with multiple family members, served as an organist here.

Eisenach architecture

The Gifts of Freedom - Day 1.5

2010-12-16T00:35:00.000-08:00

Okay - as foreshadowed - there was more to the story about the hotel.

When last I wrote, we were arriving in Eisenach (Martin Luther, New Testament, regularized the German language, etc.) and since we had no reservations, dusk was nigh (4:45 pm) and snowing - we drove to the center of the city and stopped at the Schlosshotel. Sadly, there were no rooms in the tiny inn. (This story sounds vaguely familiar...)

We asked for other hotels and the friendly receptionist offered several to us. Peter and I agreed that one in particular seemed close by and rather than move the car, we decided to walk to the Bachplatz and try our luck there. Yep! I am talking about "those Bachs." This town has been on the map a while.

After a 10 minute walk, we found the Bachplatz and the Bach Haus Hotel. The warm light coming out of leaded glass windows in the restaurant reminded us of 19th century London in a Charles Dickens novel. Little did we know that we were in Tiny Tim's and not Scrooge's neighborhood. We stepped in and a tall, creepily quiet young man mumbled hello to us. Peter inquired as to a room and he said that he had one for 80 Euros. Peter said fine and filled out the paperwork. We asked about parking and he told us where to bring the car and we headed up to the room to check it out.

Well - I don't think anyone else was staying in the whole building and despite its recent renovations, the clean and adequate room looked for all the world like a no-name motel on the highway. My heart sank because we now had a room (and the other place was full) but I just didn't like it. As we walked to the car, I told Peter that Eisenach was such a charming and historic town, it was hard to imagine staying there, and would he be willing to look at another place?

Over the years, Peter has come to know that I have ... well, how do I say? ... expectations. So, even though it is now dark (5:15 pm) and snowing hard, with an all out Christmas Market in the center of town (ferris wheel, music, gluhwein and lots of people), he lets me step into the Apotheke and ask someone else about hotels. The clerk was incredibly knowledgeable about such things and after running down a list of all of the places to stay, she indicates that the "tip top" address sits just around the corner. I asked Peter if we could just check out this one place and that is all I would ask him to do. Resigned, he agreed.

We walked into the Steigenberger Hotel Thüringer Hof and I melted. The lobby, the Christmas tree, the windows looking out to the plaza... it was beautiful. Now, this is not a poor little me story - but we are on a kind of budget that I am trying ever so hard to respect. So, we walk up to the receptionist and ask if she has a room. She is delighted because indeed, she still has one room left with a view that she can offer for 132 Euros. I look at Peter and he reminds me that we have a room for 80 Euros that we have already filled out papers for. I look at the receptionist and ask if she has anything for less and she asks my budget and I say 100 Euros. She says, well I do have a room for 112 Euros - and Peter says "book it." We run up to the room and low and behold - it was THE ROOM - it was glorious with a view of the plaza with big windows and a HUGE marble bathroom. We finally got one of the rooms that Cindy, Allen, Don and Janice got in Athens (Greece)!

What to do about the other room? Peter is delighted with this one but he was not looking forward to going back to the Bach Haus. I told him - no worries. This would be my responsibility. So, we trudged back to the dark and dreary Bach Square and I went in and in my Ameri-Deutsch explained that this was my one night in Eisenach and I simply wanted to be closer to the Christmas market and was very sorry but we would not stay with him that night. He nodded his head (like he was 60 years old but he couldn't have been more than 30) and that ended that.

I sat up that evening and watched it snow through the beautiful windows of our room. Peter slept soundly and all was good in the world.

Hotel Lobby

Daybreak in Eisenach.

Nicolaitor

The Gifts of Freedom - Day 1

2010-12-15T08:58:00.000-08:00

So much freedom - personal, political, and philosophical. Our travels to Berlin put us in touch with these ideas.

We decided on Monday that we would travel to Berlin on Tuesday. We made reservations (Leonardo Royal Berlin Hotel near the Alexander Platz - we can recommend it!) and proceeded to make arrangements to travel the next day. The trip north would include a detour to Vacha to obtain copies of birth records that Peter translated for a friend and then misplaced. The drive was over new ground and after Nürnberg, it began to snow. Little did we realize that we were about to enter into a 5 day transportation nightmare for Germany - wrecks on the autobahn, late trains, and grounded planes - all due to heavy snowfall. Somehow Micky's travel angel found us and we slipped through the magical portal which allowed us to drive swiftly and quietly, and without a single delay.

After 4.5 hours, we reached Vacha at 2:55 pm. We had called the records clerk that morning and she told us that she would leave for the day at 3 pm and the office would not be open the next day. Whew! While Peter was in the office, I looked around. Even though a lovely hotel sits in the square, the town continues to suffer from Soviet times. Desolate, lonely and gray. When Peter came out of the building, I said that we should move on. He seemed a little surprised but after he told me that one of the women in the building had immediately flirted with him - asking his age and his business in town... etc. I became even more certain that we should leave. Hmmrrph! Even a coffee house was hard to find.

So we pushed on to Eisenach which is a town that lies northeast of Vacha and closer to the autobahn that we would use the next day. In one of those "Aha" moments, my historian husband said that he thought he knew something about Eisenach but he couldn't quite pull it up. All of a sudden, he spurted out "Oh my goodness ... this is the town where Martin Luther went to school and under the protection of the prince - he translated the New Testament into German."

Well, obviously we needed to spend the night there. And so we did... in a beautiful hotel with a room overlooking the park and the old gate - The Nikolaitor. It snowed during the evening and was absolutely stunning. The story of the hotel will be told in the next post!

The Gift of Activity

2010-12-06T12:18:00.000-08:00

We have been busy -- in a wonderfully selfish way. First, there is the activity of the season. Church for the second Sunday of Advent. Thankfully, this Sunday we had a different priest who is ever so much happier than the Romanian priest who presided over the first Sunday of Advent mass as if it were a funeral. This guy was a Franciscan from Italy who sang mass and I truly enjoyed it. Then, Marianne came for Sunday dinner of exquisite (if I do say so myself) roast chicken and risotto. The key to perfect risotto - take some of the chicken drippings and stir in just before serving. YUMMY. Recipe here:

This simple but delicious roast chicken is based on a recipe in Olives and Oranges by Sara Jenkins and Mindy Fox.

Source: Saveur

1 4-lb. chicken
1 lemon
22 fresh sage leaves
3 cloves garlic
6 tbsp. unsalted butter,
at room temperature
Kosher salt
2 tbsp. olive oil
Ground black pepper, to taste
8 sprigs parsley
2 small onions, quartered
2 carrots, cut into 2" pieces
Fleur de sel

1. Heat oven to 475°. Rinse chicken under cold water; pat dry with paper towels. Peel lemon, avoiding white pith. Finely chop lemon peel, sage, and garlic together; place in a bowl. Add butter and 1 tsp. salt. Stir to combine. Quarter the peeled lemon; set aside.

2. Using your fingers and a small, sharp knife, loosen skin of chicken from breasts and thighs. Slip butter mixture between skin and flesh, spreading it evenly. Rub skin with oil; season skin and cavity with salt and pepper to taste. Stuff with quartered lemon, parsley, and 1 quartered onion. Tie legs together with kitchen twine, if you like.

3. Put remaining quartered onion and carrots into center of roasting pan and place chicken on top of them. Roast for 20 minutes, then reduce oven temperature to 400˚. Continue roasting until an instant-read thermometer inserted into thickest part of thigh (without touching bone) reads 165°, about 1 hour more. Transfer chicken to a platter; sprinkle with fleur de sel; let rest for 10 minutes before carving.

SERVES 4

Then, Peter decided that he need to get out of here and go somewhere warm for a while so we booked a week in Marakesh, Morroco in January. This is our Christmas gift to one another. I asked for a special New Year's celebration - and reluctantly at first (but now all about it), we bought tickets to a concert and gala dinner in Salzburg (waltzing and fireworks!) at the Stiftskeller St. Peter.

And this morning, when we woke, Peter asked me when we might go to Berlin and I said, why not this week. Before I knew it, we had a hotel and directions and tomorrow morning we will depart. There is a wonderful detour to Vachau to fetch documents for friends that Peter misplaced and then on Wednesday, we will arrive in the capitol city of Germany - where Peter was born. More will follow on this event.

Finally, tonight St. Nikolas and the Krampus (devil) visited the 3 children in the house. This has to be one of the most frightening and powerful memories of the month. St. Nikolas has a golden book and reads the good and the bad from the past year about each child. In kind households, the Krampus stays well in the background and is only called upon to serve St. Nikolas (give me the presents, etc.)... but in some homes, the Krampus plays a larger role and is used to "scare kids straight." In this village, few if any call upon the Krampus in this manner but there is something universal and primordial about this figure. I actually had tears come down my cheeks during this visit. I don't think I was scared but there was a fear that came over me.

Angst and action - one promotes the other.

Atilio and Christian hearing the "good and bad" from St. Nick. Krampus in the background.

Atilio (7), Christian (9), Katarina (3)

The Gift of Anticipation

2010-12-03T10:36:00.000-08:00

December ushers in a time of wonder, excitement and anticipation. Watching children shout out to one another the identity of each figure in the Krippe in Traunstein is a powerful reminder of storytelling. The smell and sensation of an oncoming snowfall is undeniable, while the flirtations and laughter around the Christmas Market gluhwein stall suggest that the night lasts longer than the lights. It is the expectation of things desired and the thrill of the unknown. It is taking risks in a world of human safety; it is trust and love. This is Christmas to me... and I adore it.

The Gift of Being Here

2010-11-30T09:33:00.000-08:00

The view outside of our kitchen window this morning demanded that we take a walk this afternoon. Bright snow crunched under our feet as we headed into an open field and turned up to a hill top. The clean, dry air felt good on my face --- and all other parts were bundled tight in layers of warm clothes. Neighbors ride their horses on this path and we followed their footprints. At least 8 inches of snow has fallen and the snow capped Alps serve as a sparkling crown to this landscape.

There is so much that I love about where I am right now.

The Gift of Adopted Families

2010-11-28T07:36:00.000-08:00

Emma and Martina joined us for the weekend just a few hours after we dropped Matt off at the Salzburg airport. These two sisters from South Tyrol are Neas' daughters and their lives are deeply entwined with ours. Neas' mother is the woman who "took in" Peter and his brother during WWII. Neas and her sisters were like older sisters or aunts to Peter until their mother died - then Neas stepped in as the farm mother for Peter. Martina is Peter's goddaughter; Emma is my age and was already married, mother of one with one on the way, and in charge of the farm when Peter and I lived there (Afers, Italy) in 1982. We will spend our Christmas with this family - their children, grandchildren, friends, and lovers.

In December 1945, Neas and her sister rode the horse that pulled a sleigh from Afers to Brixen. This is a distance of about 15 kilometers and a drop from 1500 meters above sea level to 500 meters above sea level. It was bitter cold and Peter's four year old brother, Klaus, was wrapped in a tight bundle to protect him from the icy night air. He was dying from dyptheria and by the time they reached Peter's mother in Brixen, he was dead. The war continued to take lives even after it was over.

Neas - she died in July 2009

Das Erste Adventswochenende

2010-11-26T03:04:00.000-08:00

This Sunday is the first Sunday in Advent. Preparing for this has filled me with emotion, especially as it touches Thanksgiving at home and ushers in Christmas for us. These reflective holidays, coupled with the very special gift of exquisite table linens from the Ya Yas and a beautiful snowfall that arrived this morning, have rendered me a little tender today. So rather than try to put my thoughts into words, I will leave you with pictures of some of my favorite things.

Covering Familiar Ground with Friends

2010-11-24T23:41:00.000-08:00

Matt arrived on Sunday, November 21st and we have been on the road ever since. Dachau was frozen-breath cold; gray and desolate. We felt the weight of human cruelty. This was followed by one of Joni's intuitive drives through Munich that led us to lunch at one of our favorite German restaurants. Matt went with the full mixed grill of German sausage and meats - an Atkins Diet favorite. Then we spent the rest of the day exploring the excessive expanse of Nymphenburg Palace - the beginning of our tutelage of Matt regarding the Wittelsbach family.

Monday was Chiemsee and the Herrenschloss. Ludwig II delighted us as ever. Tuesday, a detoured train ride to Munich (love the Bavarian ticket) with Frauenkirche, Michaelskirche, Theatinerkirche, kiss the pig, lunch with Sabina (best pizza in the city), Mauer's light store, the treasury and Residenz (continued tutelage of the Wittelsbachs), Hofbrauhaus, and uneventful train ride back home. Wednesday, Matt and Joni took Salzburg - its Christmas market, Hohensalzburg Festungs, Italian lunch, Collegiumkirche, and the Bishop's church.

Today is the last full day before Matt flies to London... what will it bring?

Salzburg Christmas Market

2010-11-20T08:13:00.000-08:00

And our Bavarian Christmas holiday has begun! The Salzburg Weihnachtsmarkt opened last night and since we had nothing on our calendar today (love retirement), we drove to Austria after breakfast. Naturally, the first thing we did was have a warm glass of Prosecco punch. Now this is how to take the edge off of holiday shopping. Everyone around us was in a festive mood (they drank the Kool Aid too) and it seemed that this day was made especially for such an activity. It was cold enough to feel like a winter holiday and sunny enough to be comfortable outdoors. The smells of roasting chestnuts, grilling bratwursts, and simmering gluhwein filled the air while we moved from stall to stall filled with "pretty shiny things." This is the first of many Christkind/Weihnachts/Advents markets that we will visit in the coming weeks and certainly by December 24th, I will protest if the opportunity to go one last time is presented. But - for now... let the magic surround us!

Joni holding a lucky horseshoe.

Unlucky horses.

Pretty, shiny things! I feel like a magpie!

Sunshine, Blue Skies

2010-11-18T07:01:00.000-08:00

Weather sets the mood and Peter decided we needed to thwart the blues today. Last weekend's Indian Summer (?) was followed by three days of cool, gray, foggy rain. When we got up this morning and saw a similar outlook, Peter took action. We got in the car and headed to Austria and to the other side of the mountain and sure enough ... that silly old sun was hanging out there! The road to Kössen was familiar - we had traveled it many times with Micky. Kössen is an old border town and hikes up the Wild Kaiser are approached from here. A few kilometers away from downtown Kössen is the Hotel Peternhof - an all-inclusive golf and beauty resort. http://peternhof.com/ It was an old farm that underwent this amazing transformation. The walks around the place are pretty spectacular. After a delicious lunch (Peter had yummy Speck Knodel, Kraut and Potatoes and I had a delicious Lentil Soup), we drove back to Germany ...

... and that silly old sun followed us all the way home.

Restaurant in Kössen (not our car)

Boone is a place to work and live... but dying?

2010-11-17T10:37:00.000-08:00

Not that we are obsessed with dying (although the Ya Yas would say that I have been worried about this for a long time anyway) but have you ever considered that the place you live may not be the place to die? Boone has provided us with the best work possible (at Appalachian State University) , in the finest company one could wish for (shout out to all of my LAP, General Studies, Enrollment Management, and College Access Program buddies), but for the life of me, I can't figure out where we should end up. And I mean this in the most complete sense. It is not only that we need to choose where we want to grow old but where we will put our ashes or bodies or whatever is left. These are the tough questions. We don't have a church in Boone - not because we wouldn't be welcomed but because we have chosen not to join one. We joined the University and kept our church memberships "at home" - Peter in Afers, Italy and me in Wilson, NC. But... I want to be with Peter and as much as I love Afers, "those aren't my people" and the same goes for Peter with Wilson. So how do we figure this out? Any comments are welcome on this subject.

Living on Church Time

2010-11-16T00:48:00.000-08:00

Hardly a day goes by without the church bells ringing more than just the quarter, half, three-quarter, and full hours of the day - which "for many would be a plenty." Since we have lived in European villages and towns before and because Peter was an altar boy and studied at a monastery, we recognize that the most common reason for the "non-hourly" bells is a mass being said on behalf of a dead person. The 6 am EVERY Saturday morning "call to mass" bells are especially noteworthy. But there are times that we look at each other and wonder if a war has broken out or just ended somewhere - we are totally clueless as to the insistent ringing.

Then too, there are the church holidays that catch us off guard. On any number of occasions, we have totally missed that an important Saints Day was about to occur - which means schools and stores will be closed. Unless you know about these things, you are likely to have nothing in the kitchen to cook and must go to a restaurant for your meal, unless it is the "Ruhetag" (rest day) or "Freizeit" (vacation week) for the restaurant.

It is not a bad thing to live on church time - just a surprise for someone used to a secular calendar. There is no pretense of separation of church and state -- rather a cluck-clucking distain for the efforts to secularize the society (Josef II in 1780s; Napoleon in 1803/1804; Hitler in 1930/40s). Nor is there an expectation for people to live a life of "hyper-spirituality" or exhibit "holier than thou" behaviors. No one is competing for my soul on behalf of a religion - not even the priest.

So - we have made every effort to download an annual Saints Day calendar, attended church so that we can pick up the weekly pamphlet that announces the scheduled "masses for the dead," and joined our landlords for celebrations that everyone else knew were happening but we had no idea.

And somehow, it is all okay.

Sanctuary of the church at the Cloister Seeon.

Connections - around the world

2010-11-14T10:09:00.000-08:00

The idea of a global community is simultaneously insane and real. Bauer Sucht Frau - a reality television show that is rooted in the belief that every farmer needs a wife for the farm to survive makes sense only in a country where independent farms are highly valued - Germany and Austria are two such countries. This phenomenon does not translate in American culture and suggests that there are no universal communities. Yet, contact with friends and family throughout the world is available and after phone calls, emails, facebook, and skype with Micki, Nikki, Susan, Al and Cindy the distance between Bavaria and Boone becomes invisible. Mason in Nashville, TN, Dad in Wilmington, NC, Maria in Charleston SC, Kay in Hong Kong --- we have all communicated about topics or questions on our minds - thousands of miles apart. And then, there is the transportation that brings us together in other places --- Hank, John, Nancy, Diane, and soon to be Matt, Emma, and Martina. I marvel at the time in which I live.

You don't get out of life alive!

2010-11-13T08:48:00.000-08:00

Today's adventures included working on the grave, photographing the church in Grabenstätt, entertaining surprise visitors from South Tyrol after lunch, and walking around the Tüttensee. A great Saturday all around.

About the grave. Graves are private little gardens that are to be tended. There is weeding to do, flowers to plant, and candles to light on a regular basis. Germans in this area are also a little competitive in their grave keeping and somewhat judgmental about the upkeep (or lack thereof). We pay one of the villagers 100 Euros each year to check in on the grave and keep ours from becoming the most unsightly grave in the cemetery. She manages to put about 99 cents worth of dirt on it about 2 times a year and occasionally sticks a plant in the middle. Marianne is the one who lights a candle on feast days and birthdays and puts flowers in the ground.

The gravesites are leased on a 10 year basis. If no one renews the lease, the gravesite is reclaimed for another user. That is one reason that old graves are so unusual -- the church or the community constantly reclaims the gravesites. We were caught off guard when we were in South Tyrol recently and learned that the gravesite of Peter's brother had been reclaimed by the priest because no one from the Egarter Hof lived in the village any longer. This is the prerogative of the priest. So there.

To give rather than to receive

2010-11-11T10:38:00.000-08:00

St. Martin on his horse, leading the procession

Katarina with her processional lantern

Church pagent about St. Martin

Today is St. Martin's Day and we went to church in Grabenstätt at 5 pm. The place was full of children and it was so exciting. A pagent was performed that told the story of Martin who was a solider who did good things for others. Eventually, he became a bishop and continued his good work. (This is the condensed version of the story.) All of the children brought lanterns that were lit as we left the church and we walked from the church through the town, through the old age home, by the cemetery, and then to the school where there was a huge bonfire and food for all. The main purpose is to remind us to share and take care of one another. This is especially true for the children - so that as we enter the Christmas season, we focus on the giving rather than the getting. A nice way to begin this season.

Retraining Muscles

2010-11-10T10:56:00.000-08:00

So - the suitcase was too heavy. I was told before we boarded Amtrak to New York to catch QM2. I had to take 10 pounds out and put into my "carry on" - the lovely red handbag that matched my swirling 4 wheeled monster. My Dad gave them to me and I always feel so apparent when I use them.

The end result... deltoid strain/tear. After 2 cortisone shots and a week's worth of pain relievers, I am now in rehab. It is awesome. The bottom line is that Julia (my therapist) wants to re-train my muscles. The deltoid injury has caused my trapedius muscle to seize up and create incredible strain in my neck which has led to unbelievable pain in my left arm. What intrigues me is that the pain to retrain the muscles will make it better. And today - there was immense pain but already, after a rush of blood and feeling into my hand, it is better.

I have never been one to associate pain with healing. The "no pain, no gain" campaign has not been something I understood. Yet now, the notion that new strength can come from painful re-training make sense to me. Another cliche becomes a true metaphor in life.

WRONG ABOUT "CALL ME MRS. MIRACLE"

2010-11-09T10:47:00.000-08:00

Can you believe it? The Canucks beat us to the punch! There is a Canadian film company that has already bought the rights and plan to produce the film this year!!!! And no where is Angela Lansbury! Way to go "Oh Canada."

About the readings...

2010-11-09T10:40:00.000-08:00

At some point, I promised to share my thinking about the books that I have read thus far....

Freedom: A Novel by Jonathan Franzen

In the end, Forrest Gump came to mind. Could one family’s life and its most immediate network be touched by so many (if not all) of the twenty-first century crises facing the world, including the story’s setting of the United States? Dysfunctional families, self-sufficiency, existential depression, chemical depression, teenage sex, 9/11, Bush-Cheney-Obama, corrupt multinational military contracts, Middle East conflict, elected officials, Zionism, appointed philanthropists, old money, new money, illicit affairs, divorce, illegitimate children, college athletics, gay rights, the arts, the Appalachian region, mountain top removal (MTR), coal versus oil, wildlife conservancy, entrepreneurism, carbon footprints, stock market collapse, housing market losses, overpopulation and the Catholic Church, struggling musicians who would have written serious music “if not for the accident of success,” underground Battle of the Bands in West Virginia, drugs, alcohol, peripheral internet porn, Blackberrys, texting, global outreach, anger on the fringes, access to everything and nothing simultaneously, “the beating wing of a single butterfly,” deep abiding love and loyalty – other topics blended into the story told through different people even when Patty kept the center. The sharp and developed social criticism that emerged shaped my view of global engagement. The author’s energetic, kinetic, and frantic syntax filled my head and one night, my dreams were narrated by his writing voice.

Freedom serves as the compelling commonality – as a choice, an outcome, a right, a by-product, a motivator, or an expectation – of each individual’s experience. And the author is almost, but not quite, guilty of trying to balance too much of too much when he finishes the novel through a classical American storybook ending.

A Dog’s Purpose by R. Bruce Cameron

This is the story of our lives. Give this book to people you love. Tell this story to your family. We have all known this to be true. Simple, complex, heart-breaking, and affirming. One of my new favorite books ever (The Story of Little Tree, The Shipping News, The Old Man and the Sea, and A Moveable Feast)

Room: A Novel by Emma Donoghue

What is fear? Where do we find security? How big is the world and how much of it do we need to know to be safe? How much do we need to know to function? This is a brilliant book. I can’t imagine being able to write it but I can certainly imagine thinking about such things. It is dark and chilling for it’s beginning and it jabbed my soul. Nothing is better than evil being brought to the light through a child’s eyes.

Same Kind of Different As Me by Ron Hall and Denver Moore with Lynn Vincent

Dad gave me this one. Cajun country Louisiana, black/white difference and discovery, doing the right thing and “shit happens” anyway. It is a beautiful story even with the “uh, oh” moments of “good to be a Christian” tendencies that made me wonder if I would finish reading it before I was witnessed to in a book. I finished it and didn’t feel like I had to been subjected to a Baptist born-again revival so I recommend that you stick with it until the end. The writing is excellent, the humor is laugh right out loud, and the tears are genuine. This is a true story. Be prepared to see yourself in the mirror.

The Rembrandt Affair by Daniel Silva

The premise seemed promising; stolen art, murder, and discovery of horrible secrets along the way. But a tale of universal interest is lost in the author’s true storyline that is painted poorly with huge brushstrokes – bad Nazis, good Zionists, pro-Israel global citizens and small-minded provincial anti-Semitics.

The Millenium Triology (The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo; The Girl Who Played with Fire, and The Girl Who Kicked Over the Hornet’s Nest) by Stieg Larsson.

I liked the first book the best. I understood the characters and their motivations. It was exciting to read about a place that I did not know. It made me want to bring a map and chart the streets, the “gates,” and paths taken. I was especially intrigued by Kalle Blomkvist and Lisbeth Salander – great characters, well developed. Early on, I thought that Lisbeth was the main character but now I wonder if it is Kalle. Excellent work. The last installment…. I think was a compilation of all that had been discussed and said before. I don’t think it is a lie but I do think it all occurred after Larsson died. Whoever completed that work told the truth – the entire book reflects the intent of the author but not the author’s work. A read worth the time.

Call Me Mrs. Miracle by Debbie Macomber.

Okay - it will be THE Hallmark movie of the 2010 or 2011 holiday season and everyone will feel good about giving it to their aunt or grandmother for Christmas. Like all of the Jan Karon books, no one will be embarrassed to recommend it. Jessica Lansbury will be asked to play Mrs. Miracle.

And what did they see?

2010-11-07T11:16:00.000-08:00

And the veterans and military led the march into church this morning with standards high and trachten all around. Throughout Europe and in America, this is the week that fallen soldiers are honored. As I sat in our village church and looked at the Baroque altar and stages of the cross, I thought about how many people were wearing eyeglasses. This made me wonder, what did people see before they had spectacles? Did the colors look different? Were the images scary? How did these magnificent, opulent altars look to someone who could not see clearly?

Heiligkreuz and Baumburg Klosterkirche

2010-11-06T06:03:00.000-07:00

Peter suggested an adventure this morning - "Let's drive to the Gothic church of Heiligkreuz and then to the cloister of Bamburg." So off we drove in the old but cushy, dark blue/green Mercedes sedan that we have leased for our time here. Sometimes we both feel like we are driving a tank. So many of the cars on the road are tiny and peppy!

Heiligkreuz reflects a "country Gothic" style. Unlike the famous towering cathedrals of Salisbury and Cologne, it is much more modest with the unusual feature of columns down the center aisle to support a double apse. Additionally, there are frescoes on the church walls from the end of the 15th to the beginning of the 16th centuries. The colors are almost pastel like and have been complimented by a very recent (2005/2006) renovation of the chancel. New frescoes are on the walls using the same pastel shades of orange, blue and yellow but these are decidedly more abstract and modern.

As we walked in the church, we were both aware of a distinct buzzing that turned out to be a HUGE beehive above the alter. YIKES! Dying bees lay on the floor but plenty were flying all around.

Next was the Klosterkirche (see above and below) which we have seen several times from the road but never visited. A full-blown Baroque church, with a Rococo renovation, that was the center of an Augustinian monastery that was active until 1803; Napoleon closed it down. And so was our Saturday morning!

White Blank Walls

2010-11-05T11:06:00.000-07:00

The apartment is full of white blank walls. Hardly a break in their infinite emptiness. It has been incredibly restful to see their expanse and not be distracted by the images and thoughts of others. This makes me incredibly aware of how our homes are filled with important memories and mementos - which indicate our love for and approval of others. I realize that serving as a care taker of so many "things" keeps us from taking care of ourselves. It has happened before - this recognition that too much stuff is in our lives - too many things clutter our steps and our minds. So I am diving deep in the simplicity of this apartment and allowing the emptiness to fill me up with ideas and energy. Who knows whether I can take this back home - I have never been successful in the past and probably don't need to be. For now - this is peace.

Life and Death

2010-10-31T11:20:00.000-07:00

A full week it has been.

Diane Griffin arrived on Saturday (10/23) and Nancy Wells arrived on Monday (10/25) -- our travels together filled Germany, Austria and Italy with the laughter and conversation that comes from knowing one another for ages - through good and sad times. We, in turn, filled our hearts with friendship and our bodies with all sorts of good eats - speck, goulash, spatzle, vegetable strudle, Weiner schnitzel, cheese(s), breads, torte, tea, coffee, wine, and beer. South Tyrol embraced them and they wrapped their arms around Emma and Gottfried. Of course, it was castle, burg, cathedral, church at every turn and then snow to boot. Magical moments - the fullness of life.

And then ... on Thursday (10/28), we learned that Lindsay died from her own hand. She lived with us for a little over two months in 2009 shortly after arriving in Boone and while waiting for repairs in her apartment to be completed. A lovely young woman, seemingly overjoyed by her love for Jake and happy about her friendships. At twenty-nine, she was too young to know that time, love, and friendships smooth out the raw and jagged edges of life.

So, I leave you with an inspiring story that encourages us to live long and in love. Take time to see.
http://www.youtube.com/user/AliceTheFilm

Finally figured out how to post pictures!

2010-10-24T10:13:00.000-07:00

So here is our apartment in Erlstätt. Your room awaits! (It is the one with 2 single beds.)

Through the eyes and ears of friends

2010-10-24T09:48:00.000-07:00

Sharing a place I love with people I love deepens my feelings for both. Stone patterns, fields, houses, and people are seen differently by others. They call my attention to places and moments I have seen a hundred times and can now see newly again. Diane's visit has been a gift!

And today - three year old Katarina visited us. At one point, she looked at me very deeply and finally asked, what happened to my face? I was a little confused and asked her what she meant. She took her fingers and touched my cheeks - where the little red veins show through my very pale skin. I asked her, "what did she think happened?" She responded that a bird must have that flown down and pinched them hard. I could think of no reason not to agree.

Later, she sat in my lap and demanded that I read her book "faster and louder." It didn't matter to her that I was clearly out of my element. The book was The Little Pigs and it was written in Italian; maybe I should have used Pig Latin!? In the end, she made clear was that as long as I was holding her and we were involved with the book, she was happy. Simple pleasures transcend language.

Freedom ... the internet and a telephone number

2010-10-22T10:27:00.000-07:00

Jimminy Christmas! What was I thinking?
"Let's detach," I said.
"Let's step away and see what really matters to us," I implored.
"Wasn't it lovely to be in the Grand Canyon for a whole week and be concerned with only what was happening in the immediate?" I asked superiorly.

I'll tell you what is important to me. I need the instant gratification of information and communication. I love asking a question and then putting it to Google to satisfy my query. I want to call my Dad every week and learn that my sisters and brother are the same and to hear my Dad say he loves me. I love doing this without standing at a public phone with a flashlight and phone card or spending $50 to hear the voice of a friend when I have finally decided that my German isn't good enough to appreciate the NRP-like commentary on the Bayrisches Rundfunk. And, while I resisted the Kindle when I received it last Christmas, it has been the most amazing friend ever. Swiftly and quietly sending me books to devour so that my mind won't turn to poo. Reviews for Freedom (Franzen); Room (Donoghue); A Dog's Purpose (Cameron); and Same Kind of Different as Me (Hall and Moore) will be posted soon. Peter is writing every day ... and I am seeking stimulation from the minds of others.

I can only say that today, Deutsche Telecom answered my prayers and liberated my soul. See my fingers dance!

Holding versus Doing

2010-08-27T07:57:00.000-07:00

We are in a holding pattern and it is hard. Between leaving Boone and heading to Europe, we have a 3 week stay with my Dad in Wilmington. Don't get me wrong - being with Dad is fun. He is an admirable guy who loves to read, eat good meals, engage in enthusiastic conversation, as well as volunteer with Meals on Wheels and Mother Hubbard's Cupboard. Being with him is comforting, reassuring, and easy. But, Peter and I have habits of doing that are not met by being in someone else's home and already we have imposed our habits on Dad by taking over the upstairs, cleaning out his garage, and commandeering the kitchen.

Neither one of us is comfortable when we aren't busy.

Change and transition

2010-08-22T07:38:00.000-07:00

We have made the change on Friday. We left our home (in the capable hands of Andrew and Bruno); left our car (in the marketing hands of Kathy Issacs friend); and traveled to Wilmington to spend three weeks with Dad before we leave the country. We were "spent on arrival" and it has taken until this morning (Sunday) to feel like we are physically here and away from Boone. But that is not all that has to take place. There are emotions, anxieties, excitement, hopes and fears about separating from what and who we know.

We now have to make the transition.

Random acts of security

2010-08-20T04:19:00.000-07:00

At 5:50 am, I crossed North Carolina Avenue SE, headed to Pennsylvania Avenue in hopes of nabbing a quick cab ride to National Airport. It was that perfect moment when yesterday's heat had finally left the streets and the early morning air was cool and fragrant. Looking up and down the sidewalk, I walked past the closed doors of the Eastern Market and spied three women walking separately and purposefully towards their day. We each appraised the other and once all four of us intuited our similar mindsets, relaxed our shoulders, and continued walking wordlessly. We walked past the the bundled clothes sleeping on a bench, a woman in a wheelchair in the shadow of a corner building, and a man rummaging through the garbage. No cabs, only buses - so I took the Metro to feel safe in the company of strangers and arrived two hours before my flight.

I was randomly selected for a complete TSA search... for my safety.

Side Trips - a foot in the past pushing towards the future

2010-08-19T05:54:00.000-07:00

Ack! And while it was still dark, my college roommate Nancy, got up and drove me to the Greensboro airport so I could fly to DC. A little anxiety set in as I checked off the tasks for a 24 hour trip: setting the alarm, laying out my clothes, organizing my travel bag (computer, handouts, boarding pass, id, night shirt, toothpaste, toothbrush, clean undies and different shirt). All of a sudden, my heart began to race a little and I wasn't sure if I was afraid of doing a poor job or excited about going to work.

Maybe there is no difference.

Tying up last minute details

2010-08-18T11:17:00.000-07:00

Cleaning out the freezer and fridge for the renters was a walk down memory lane! Duck stock? When did I make that? Mustards galore from Peter's 70th birthday party (Brats and Beer). And two dried rose buds in a plastic bag from my Mother's funeral.

We have promised ourselves that we will not be held hostage by the stuff of life - you know, maintaining a fancy storage facility (our home) to hold the things we have collected along the way. We were amazed and disgusted by the number of clothes and shoes that we put up in the attic so the closets would be empty. Maybe this year will be about shedding so many unnecessary things and learning to hold on to each other and what really matters most.

Like two dried rose buds in a plastic bag.

All my bags are packed, I'm ready to go...

2010-08-17T20:24:00.000-07:00

Friends like ours are rare and precious. Every day has been filled with tender reminders of why Boone is home. How did we ever get so lucky. Our hearts are full and so are our suitcases.

We are only allowing each other one suitcase each (okay, it is a big one) and it needs to last from September - May in all sorts of places - QM2, Bavarian villages, Italian Alps, Spanish coast, and th bridges of Istanbul. Surprisingly, we are darn close to making it work. Peter is lucky - his formal wear consists of one tuxedo (Daniel Craig - eat your heart out) and a classy suit. Mine is a bit more varied but let's face it, one long black dress, one short black dress, one pair black "fancy pants" and a string of pearls will take you anywhere.

So -we are off! The places we'll go.