What have I gotten myself into?

There is an explanation for this, but I don't know how much it has to do with living in Germany. It might have more to do with me having a bit of extra time on my hands and being determined to conquer domesticity!

It's the time of year when we all start thinking about soup. The leaves are falling, the air is brisk, we come inside with cold noses and cold hands. Nothing sounds better than pulling up to the table for a bowl of fragrant steamy soup and a thick slice of fresh bread! Mmmm!

So, I've been pulling out my recipes and headed to the store this morning. Just one problem- I couldn't find broth! Soups have to start with that, there's just no way around it. As I was strolling past the freezer section, I happened to notice a sign that said soup chickens. I thought, "Well, they say there's no true substitute for real broth and since I can't find the canned stuff I might as well go for it. How hard can it be?"

I seem to have momentarily forgotten how much I hate handling raw meat, especially when it is still basically shaped like the animal it once was. So I got her home (I have now read that soup chickens are "spent breeders" and I can't help thinking of it as she) and thawed her out in the microwave. Then I rinsed her in the sink and started crying! I know it sounds totally ridiculous, and I don't know if I was crying for her, having spent her life laying eggs and then ending up in a soup pot, or for myself because it was right then that I realized that I would not only have to get this thing into the pot to cook but also get it out again, take its skin off and cut all the meat off the bones. Just thinking of it is giving me goose bumps, or is it chicken skin?!?

But I feel like I have to complete the task that I started, even if Aaron does get home in time to do the dirty work. I am less certain of whether I'll be able to eat anything that comes from this endeavor!

Late October Weather Update

The tidal flats (or mud flats) on the North Sea coast

Remember back in the summer when I was complaining about the weather? Well, it hasn't changed much! Only now, it seems seasonally appropriate and maybe even better than what some of you are experiencing in the Upper Midwest.

Although we did have some "hot" days, July and August were more notable for the rain and 63-degree high temps. And when my parents came from Illinois in mid-September they suffered from the "It's still hot here, it surely can't be that cold there" packing error, one that we've all committed at some point. It was still in the 80s at home but in the 50s here and their layering was a bit on the light side. Now I am hearing about first frosts and first snow flurries in Ohio, Michigan, Illinois. We still haven't had frost, or a temperature below the freezing point. Just yesterday, Aaron's boss asked him how he was doing with the cold weather and promised that it wouldn't get much colder- it was about 35 degrees!

So, I'm really excited by the prospect of a winter without mounds of snow, frozen eyelashes and bitter cold that steals your breath away! We'll see if that makes up for the lack of a real summer. If not, well, you just might see us back next summer to soak up some tropical summer sunshine on the shores of Lake Michigan! Of course, I hear the coast of Spain has some lovely beaches...

Excuse me- do you know where we might find the North Sea?

It sounded simple to us. We live on a fairly narrow strip of land with the Baltic Sea 10 km to the east and the North Sea about 45 km to the west. We've spent a lot of time at the Baltic Sea and we were anxious to check out the other side. So, on Saturday we packed a little picnic, got in the car and drove west. We stopped in Husum, a harbor town where we enjoyed walking around and having the local specialty- shrimp sandwiches- which are a lot better than they sound. But Husum is situated back along a canal so we didn't really see the coast. We jumped back in the car and started driving. Our view westward was mostly blocked by large dikes but we didn't feel like we were close to the shore. There were just vast expanses of pancake-flat pasturelands and lots of sheep. We drove over a narrow causeway, which made us feel that we were going to an island even though we still saw pastures on both sides. We drove all over, seeing homes built up on little hills and trenches dug in the fields for water drainage. It seemed like we were in the middle of nowhere, but still no sign of water. Eventually, we came to a small parking lot that butted right up to a large dike. We paid a Euro to park and climbed up the hill expecting to reach the top and gaze out at the picturesque water view. Instead it felt like standing on the edge of Kansas with grassland stretching out before us as far as we could see. Not a single tree, just sheep munching grasses and a paved path leading out farther than our eyes could see. But there were lots of people walking the path so we figured that it must be the way to the beach. So, we walked. And we walked and we walked and we walked. Meanwhile, the sun was starting to sink and the wind was picking up and we even scheduled a "drop dead" time for turning around. But we couldn't give up! After about an hour, we approached a collection of buildings that looked like an old farm. By then we had figured out that we were at Wattenmeer (Tidal Flats) National Park. We veered off to the left where we followed a puddly path toward some steps with the shimmering reflection of light on water beyond. We reached the top of the stairs, the reward of our long journey and looked out- at a sea of sand and mud! Technically, there was water there, about the amount you could safely put in a toddler's wading pool. Lots of shells and tiny crabs. But no beach and no crashing waves! If only we had been there at high tide.

Gettin' ready for winter- German style!

I have seen a lot of things in Germany that make sense. Things that make me say, "Huh? I wonder why no one does this in the U.S."

This, however, is not one of them! I have noticed that people here seem a little wimpy about cold weather. But seriously- shoulder warmers? Elbow warmers? Let me give you a tip that we use back in the old country- just put on another shirt!

Reflections on our move

Most of the luxuries and many of the so-called comforts of life are not only not indispensable, but positive hindrances to the elevation of mankind. -Henry David Thoreau

It kind of makes you think, doesn't it? Moving is a pain. We've all done it and we wonder why we have so much stuff. As soon as it's over, we hope we never have to do it again (or at least not for a very, very long time).

We are having a particularly unpleasant moving experience, mainly because it's not over yet. We packed up our house in the middle of May and we are still fighting with the moving company that is supposed to be sending the rest of our stuff.

And as I feel my blood pressure rising in dealing with crooked companies, I wonder about the true cost of our move. Sure, it was expensive to ship our household over here but even that feels small compared to the cumulative time, energy, and stress involved in the whole process. I'm talking about weeks of sorting, days of packing, days of unpacking, days of wrangling with a company that won't call me back!

After talking with a friend who took a decidedly different approach to her international move last month I have to really consider which is better. She went through a painful but liberating separation from most of her belongings. She and her husband packed several suitcases and their two cats and moved to a new continent. They are certainly missing some of the creature comforts but it doesn't take much time to clean her apartment and she can be off to her language lessons or exploring her new city. We are both learning some lessons in our new lives, maybe the same lessons for different reasons...

Shanty Choir of Schleswig

We happened across this performance one Saturday afternoon, at a garden show of all places. A bunch of old sailors singing drinking songs! These guys were the real deal- weathered, rowdy and retired! Except for that young guy in the back row with his bushy blond beard- gotta love him! Most songs were in German but "Rum- fa-la-la, rum- fa-la-la!" transcends the language barrier! And they even sang "My bonnie lies over the ocean..." and the crowd really got into it! Some people, mostly those with white hairs, knew the words to every song and were joining right in. It was fantastic!

Later, Aaron and I discussed what folk songs we have in America that we could share with our German friends. It's been a long time since I learned those songs in elementary school, and I'm pretty sure they didn't teach us any drinking songs. I can remember "Yankee Doodle Dandy," but what is that about? "Oh, Susannah!" "Home on the Range"... we need help thinking of more! Because if there comes a time when we're called upon to sing, we want to be ready!

Serendipity!

We were driving back from Baden-Baden to Soerup, feeling tired and little let down after several days of fun and exploration. Mom was snoozing, Aaron was seeing how fast the car could coast down hills on the Autobahn, and I was thumbing through the guidebook. I knew we needed a break from the care so I rather randomly chose Goettingen, a small university city that, according to the book, has a Ratskellar with some of the best food in Germany! Sounded good!

We drove into town as I read to everyone some of the highlights of Goettingen, including the statue of the Goose Girl in the square who receives kisses from happy students who have passed their final exams. Close to the city center, things were abustle and we saw signs for the Goose Girl Festival- that very day! We just happened upon a five-hour festival in the heart of Germany on a beautiful Sunday afternoon- how can this be?

We sat outside in the square and ate lunch, listened to some music, soaked up the sun and wandered through the crowds. This was another of those golden moments... maybe they aren't so rare if you are looking for them!