Deutschland

Would you believe it that Max has visited three separate Christmas Markets, and I don’t have one picture to show for it? It’s almost as if I’m lying to you. That’s not impossible. These places sound pretty imaginary – Schwäbisch Gmünd, Schorndorf, and Donzdorf. Schorndorf has the biggest Santa hat I’ve ever seen, at the top of a government building. Max has one more week in Germany, so perhaps I’ll snap a few pictures before he leaves. It’s the perfect opportunity for classy Christmas photos right now. It snowed yesterday, all day long, and it stuck pretty well, which will look nice along with the Advent calendar city building in the background.

As I said, one week in Germany, and then Elizabeth and Max say goodbye. (Forever?) I’m sure this is an extraordinarily emotional time for them. Or not. We’ll never know. The cats, too, are probably pretty bummed, having grown very used to a world without dogs. I don’t look forward to breaking that news to them. I personally have an additional four German-filled weeks, so I’ll save my sadness for later. It’ll drown nicely in Döner.

A moving company is packing up and taking all of our belongings next Monday. For insurance purposes, Elizabeth and I had to count and valuate every piece of whatever we own. The task felt manageable at first (57 T-shirts, 9 dresses…). But then confidence was quickly shattered by the smallest of the junk drawers and its 35 separately recordable items. Next time, it’s all going into the trash. Would’ve happened this time, too, except a German trashcan is the size of a baby backpack and pickup is twice per month. Anyway, our trashcan is already earmarked for cut-up strips of area rug.

Canceling German services is proving to be an impossible task. It's as if Germans are trees rooted to the ground. The worst is GOA (garbage). Elizabeth visited them in person, because their website is worthless, and the lady blew her off with a phone number. That's the exact opposite of customer service. Way to ruin Germany, GOA.

Veterinarians, too. If I end up coming home without any cats, NO ONE IS EVER ALLOWED TO SPEAK OF IT.

I’m not sick—don’t listen to Elizabeth—but I’m not really eating, and I burned through 200+ cough drops last week. Apparently cough drops make you really gassy? I guess? I for one will be relieved to get out of Germany; the new people downstairs smoke constantly, and the cloud hangs out in my apartment and bores a hole in my skull.

I’m skipping the company Christmas party, in typical Kyle fashion. When I originally declined the invitation, I argued that I’d be too busy with the move. But it all turned out for the best, because there’s no way I’m eating in public yet. I doubt they would’ve served me room-temperature, chunkless soup anyway.

Lastly, Max's grandparents were here briefly last week. I awkwardly sat with them at dinner, quiet and not eating. Sorry, you guys!

It’s possible this is my final entry…as short and lame as it is. If so: thank you for exploring European life with me. Writing about my experiences helped make them manageable. Germany is fantastic, and I would recommend it to absolutely anyone, but I cannot wait to be home. This social crap is not who I am.

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!

What can I share today?

Alb Marathon 50K was fantastic. The race is mostly individuals, but about 50 teams also participated. I ran on a team of 10, all Bosch employees, and go assigned the opening 5 kilometers. Expectations were stupid high, which made me anxious, considering the number of runs I had to skip due to vacations and baby troubles. (Nothing specifically has been wrong with Max. He just kinda sucks at life and has very strong opinions about how I should spend my free time.) But muscle memory prevailed, and I finished my 5K leg in 18:35. Running in the front pack of 5 was exhilarating, if not entirely deserved. I should run the first 5K of marathons more often. Our team ultimately finished 3rd overall, a 10-minute improvement over their performance last year.




Glühwein is available in stores these days, which means the Christmas season is upon us. (No, it’s not too early. Germany celebrates neither Halloween nor Thanksgiving.) I’ve already bought, I think, 3 boxes of the stuff. (“Boxes”, because it’s cheaper, of course.) It’s a few more weeks until the Christmas markets open. I’ll post pictures again this year. It’s our last Christmas in Germany. I’ll certainly miss the candied almonds and gingerbread, the Schupfnudeln and Fleischküchle. Elizabeth and I in the past have visited a wide variety of Christmas markets, including the world-famous Esslingen medieval market as well as that one in a cave. So this year we’ll keep it simple, no travel, support local. In any case, I’m too Scrooge-y to enjoy spending € 3 on a glass of Glühwein when I can buy at the grocery 5 times as much for just € 1. No, scratch that; I’m too David Tennant-y to enjoy that.




Elizabeth and I are wrapping up our German lives. Already I’ve exchanged my German driver’s license back for my Kentuckian. Various people have called dibs on most of our furniture. Being home—Kentucky has always been home—will be a relief, though I’ll miss pretty much everything about Germany. Except the language. The language still makes me feel stupid.

And last week I FINALLY celebrated Max's birth at work. The best part: Elizabeth and Max came, too. Everyone at the office loved Max. My coworkers passed him around without incident.

My phone’s camera is broken. Have I mentioned that? So we’ll see what pictures I can scrounge up for this post.

Visitors! Eric arrived in Germany and turned Elizabeth and my humdrum lives into a whirlwind of adventure. Eric’s first days were for knocking out mandatory local restaurants and sights. For food, we hit Paulaner Wirtshaus, Ali Baba, and Schnitzelhäusle. Visited the library (for a used book sale) and the local flea market. While at the library I bought a picture book titled “The Full Moon and the Empty Bear,” which is every bit as depressing as it sounds. The best day was our hike through Taubentalwald, because now Max can say he’s been to the top of Schwäbisch Gmünd’s lookout tower…and saw alpacas. We could’ve played mini-golf, but I’m too cheap to be paying 9 euros.




The adventuring was put on hold after that weekend, when Eric broke off from us to take a week-long romp to Italy. Baby Max was so devastated that he was feverish and an overall nightmare until Eric returned. Elizabeth took Max to the doctor during the worst of it.

Within hours of Eric’s return, I dragged all of us to Jelly (Gsälz) Fest, though that was a gigantic letdown. While it had begun as a pleasant day, sudden rain and the accompanying 20-degree temperature drop crushed our enthusiasm for homemade jams. We bought zero jam. Everyone was wet and cold, but we stuck around because of the sunk entrance fee. Worst of all, the “dog show” main event was most underwhelming. And the people there kept glaring at us for whispering. (Not two feet away on the sidewalks, hundreds of people were walking by and talking at full volume. But whatever.)

A heated music tent salvaged the Fest for us a bit, with its traditional German bands. Plus, Currywurst. But still…a disappointing day.

The next day, sufficiently recovered, we all hopped onto a bus to Heubach to hike to the Rosenstein. Expectations were high. There was nice weather, one-euro bus rides, and plans for a nice dinner afterwards. Elizabeth brought out her nifty backpack baby carrier for the occasion. Apparently, though, Max hates Heubach and everything in it. Max’s wailing could be heard for kilometers. Then, not more than 10 minutes into the hike, Max needed a new diaper as well as a complete wardrobe change. I don’t know why we bother putting him in diapers at all. For the record, Rosenstein would’ve been a pleasant little hike with beautiful views of the countryside under better circumstances.

After the hike, we went straight home on the first bus that would take us.




Then came Munich because Eric needed the official Oktoberfest experience. Now Max has had it, too, I suppose, though it terrified him. As Max was wheeled inside Löwenbräu’s beer tent, he freaked. The gobs of people, the hammering noise, it was all too much. Elizabeth took Max to the safety of the AirBnB, allowing Eric and I to finish our beers (and Elizabeth’s) before progressing onward to Augustiner-Bräu’s tent. Eric wanted to see more tents, but I am a slight man. Which was fine, because we were about to get the bum’s rush anyway. After 5:00 PM was for people who’d purchased reservations.

Next came castle day, when the four of us braved a day-long escapade to Neuschwanstein—the “Disney” castle in Hohenschangau, Germany. From 8:00 am until 7:00 pm we were out, on buses, in restaurants and palaces. Max was a champ, mostly. Except Neuschwanstein, which was tugging on the last of Max’s patience. Max and I bailed on the guided tour so I could keep him isolated and staring at non-stimulating dark walls.

After Neuschwanstein was Mittenwald. Mittenwald’s hiking trail follows a beautiful river, on walkways floating 200 feet above it, right across the border into Austria. The walkways were see-through. Every 200 meters there was a sign posted on which Gobbie the river sage taught us about nature. Max and Elizabeth weren’t up for the entire hike, but at least they ventured far enough to see the “river of emeralds.” And they joined Eric and me afterwards at Postkeller brewery for dinner. I had the goulash, because you should always order the special.




That was basically it for Eric’s trip. We let him sample 2 more Döner restaurants, and Anestis, which is the gyro place. Eric agrees with Elizabeth that gyros are better than Döner, because they’re both fools. Now Eric is back to his regular life in the US, and I’m basically back to mine. Except hat Elizabeth got me and Max sick. Which is why I worked from home today—because if I sniffle at work, I think they’ll deport me.

This month we took our first family trip. Max, who has so far barely been outside of the apartment, can now say that he’s been to Frankfurt. And that he has ridden the Deutsche Bahn (train). Unfortunately we never actually ventured into the city itself. This trip was strictly business, filled with government buildings, security guards, and metal detectors. But life can’t always be a party.




Elizabeth and Max and I left on a Sunday, and from the get-go we had delays. Delays are always expected. Trains here are notoriously problematic (Cue an American saying “But I thought German trains were known for their reliability,” followed by laughter from any and every nearby German.), which is why Elizabeth built an entire extra day into the schedule as a buffer. Anyhoo, we missed our connection, so Deutsche Bahn shifted us onto another train—without our seat reservations. For new seat reservations, we needed to go to the other, alarmingly overcrowded, helpdesk. Well, 40 minutes later, we were no closer to receiving help, but it was time to catch our new train, so we had no choice but to risk it without reservations. Which is usually fine.

No. With a baby and no seat reservations is decidedly not fine. The three of us sat on the floor blocking the toilets and busy exits, all while Max was losing his mind.

By the time we arrived at the hotel (the replacement hotel, because our AirBnB had bailed), it was later than scheduled, but it was still early enough to find a nice restaurant for dinner…as if that were going to happen. Instead, we enveloped ourselves in the privacy and comfort of the hotel room. We ordered room service and bought sodas from a machine, where Elizabeth got an apple juice soda (Whatever you are imagining, this tastes better than that.) and I tried the new Coke Zero Sugar. I prefer Coke Life. Max likes milk.

The next day started well enough, with a “free” breakfast buffet at the hotel. Plenty of decent food to choose from. Breakfast would’ve been better, though, had we sat in the right place. After 15 minutes of being eyeballed by the wait staff, a waitress finally approached us and said simply, “You’re not allowed to sit there,” as if we were insolent teenagers trying to make her life harder. I didn’t care. Just as long as she stopped withholding my coffee.

It was finally time for the US Embassy. (Or, we guessed it was time. Since we didn’t have our cellphones—which are strictly forbidden at the US Embassy—we actually had no idea if it was time to leave or not. Turns out, it was not. But leave we did.) Oddly enough, the US Embassy was the best part of our Frankfurt trip. Elizabeth had prepared more than the required documents. The staff processed us quickly and courteously. People with infants are rocketed to the front of any line. It was great. Max should expect his US passport in 2 to 3 weeks.




Just like on Sunday, Deutsche Bahn tried to suck out all of our joy, this time by kicking us out of our reserved seats on both trains due to faulty air-conditioning. (Unrelated but worth mentioning: at the train station where I ordered myself coffee with a small amount of milk, I once again received a giant cup of hot milk, because Europe is an evil, evil place.) Boy was I smelly by the end of our trip. At least we weren’t sitting on the floor. And praise all of the gods that Max enjoys watching scenery buzz past the train windows.

Aside from that Frankfurt trip, days all tend to smear together in a delirious fog. With not enough sleep, and with very few breaks for Mama. But we are surviving. Game of Thrones helps. So does The Defenders. The US news does not.

Hi Internet People

I have very little non-baby news for you. But I’ll fluff it up to balance out this post.

My parents visited for the first time in July. I thought they were coming in order to meet the baby, but they clearly came for Elizabeth and me. For two whole weeks, they pampered us by letting us sleep, cooking dinner, washing the pots and pans. I doubt life will be so easy ever again.




Very regrettably, I had to duck out halfway through my parents’ visit for a business trip…to Kentucky of all places. Elizabeth was understandably frustrated, as was I, but my parents didn’t let on to their frustration. In fact, rather than get mad, they embraced my departure as an opportunity to further help Elizabeth with the baby. They took what would’ve been a stressful time for Elizabeth and made it relaxing, a few times even going grocery shopping alone. Eventually they left, as well, leaving Elizabeth alone with the baby for 9 days. If you want details on that, you know who to ask.

Kentucky came and went in a flash. My flights were on weekdays, and I often worked late and then attended work-related evening activities, so I barely realized I was home. But it was great seeing the people I did see. Instead of a hotel, I stayed in my parents’ empty house with Buddy dog. That was nice. Buddy and I managed lots of little walks despite the mightily oppressive Kentucky weather. Without Buddy, I probably never would’ve ventured outside.




When I returned to Germany, everyone was alive and happy. Well, except for me since I didn’t sleep on the airplane. Never do. I watched Split…which I do not recommend, and I finished Lonesome Dove (the book). Today, though, everything is back to normal. The new normal, which involves significantly less sleep than the old normal. Elizabeth and I will get the hang of it eventually.

Yesterday I started reading The New Jim Crow for my book club. In general, I’m not reading as rapidly as I had been the first half of 2017, but I’m doing my best. I chalk it up to exhaustion. Even though I’m not busier (I’m arguably less busy), my mind is too muddled to process silly things like words and numbers. I like pictures now.

On a related note, my German language skills are plummeting, which is funny because, if you’d asked me earlier in the year, I would’ve said that my German “couldn’t be worse.” Well, it can, turns out. My only consolation is that I can pass on the lessons I’ve learned: Not everyone can learn a language from 3 years of immersion. Not everyone can learn a language from a year of private classes. Not everyone can learn a language from 1000+ hours of Duolingo and Memrise. In fact, some people may not be capable of learning another language at all, especially when they never learned one during school. Maybe it’s just me. I refuse to chat or socialize with anyone in any language. It’s a wonder I ever learned a functional amount of English. The worst is at the office. There, my silence is absolute because I don’t want my coworkers to speak in English, because it reminds me of how miserably I’ve failed. I’d rather keep in my silent bubble forever. I wonder how I’ve warped their perception of Americans…




Running is not going well. I’m on the hook to run a 10 K leg of a 50 K team race. This is the same race which I ran with Other Kyle two years ago, and so I know what I’m in for. The race is a hilly mess, and it will be the end of me. My team this year has particularly high hopes, which stresses me out because I’m not likely to meet expectations. It’s not such a big deal, I guess. The most I can do is report my current progress to Gerhard and let him decide if he wants to cut me. (If I’m cut, I wonder if I’ll be stupid enough to run the 50 K alone.)

That’s all for today. I’ll throw in some pretty pictures if I think of it. Until next time!

Hi, Everyone. I’m back from Munich, where, at my wife’s insistence, I crashed Cousin Liz & John’s anniversary vacation. I fought against the trip at first. If my cousin’s anniversary wasn’t reason enough to fight against it, there was also 3-week baby Max to consider and my mother-in-law who was also visiting at the same time. But in the end I caved—because of course it was going to be excellent.




I lucked out with the weather. While Cousin Liz & John got caught in 95 degree heat and in thunderstorms, Munich welcomed me with a mild 80 and sunshine. Cousin Liz booked Monday and Tuesday day-tours for us to Hitler’s Teahouse and to Salzburg, so all I had to do was sit back and let myself be entertained. It’s significantly more relaxing than assembling an agenda from scratch. Both tours weren’t Munich, sadly, but I’ll be returning for another round in September for Oktoberfest with Eric. Or…Septemberfest? Which reminds me: I need to practice up. My alcohol tolerance these days is quite low, and Eric would never let me live it down if I were to drink one Radler and then tap out.

Salzburg was a significantly better tour than Hitler’s Teahouse, in case you’re interested. Obviously, Salzburg is an entire city full of artists and shops and life, whereas the Teahouse is just a teahouse. But also, I found the bus ride to Hitler’s Teahouse wildly duller than the train to Salzburg. Though, perhaps I just like trains. However, Hitler’s Teahouse earns a point for its scenery. The view from up there is spectacular.




Among us in the tour groups were mostly Americans—like the kind who recline into your face and then get offended that they can feel your breath. There was also a talkative young man from Israel, and he told us all the story of how he once bought a wheel of cheese—impressed by its rock-bottom price—only to later find out that it was butter all along. Butter which he then sold door to door. Don’t buy butter from strangers.

Even though the 3 of us spent most of our time on tours outside of the city, we probably spent 5 hours or more each night exploring Munich. Cousin Liz & John were impressively energetic considering it was week 2 of their European vacation. In Munich we saw churches. I rubbed a fish statue for good luck. We visited the Marienplatz, where we witnessed a political protest monitored by 20 or more heavily armed police officers. We took the U4 to the English Garden—without incident—and watched surfers on the manmade river, Eisbach. We ate dinner downtown at the unfathomably crowded Augustiner Keller, with its 5000 person (!) capacity, and so now Cousin Liz can say that she’s eaten at an authentic, surreal German beer garden. And each morning we ate hurried breakfasts from the same vendor, who happened to have the best slogan: “Where it smells and tastes.”




I’m still exhausted from parenthood. This trip has highlighted that for me. In Salzburg, after doing some bad math, I argued with a lady about it for five minutes. But in my defense, she had become belligerent first, and I was the customer who had already given her more than enough money. (She was after specific coins of mine. It’s not as if I was trying to shortchange her.) Argumentative and brain-dead…My coworkers are going to love having me back in the office on Monday.

Now the 3 of us are back in my town of Schwäbisch Gmünd, the Oldest Staufer Town. I got to say goodbye to Carole, thankfully, and then early tomorrow Cousin Liz & John will start heading back home, as well. In the meantime, Elizabeth (and Max) and I are taking turns showing Cousin Liz & John around town—Heilig-Kreuz-Münster, Marktplatz, Stadtbibliothek, Naturatum—and making pit stops at the apartment to tend to laundry. They have done an impressive job sampling the local cuisine, trying even foods that they are guaranteed to dislike. Last night they survived the loony waitress at Kunst Genuss. (When John ordered Ravioli, her response was “No. Penne.” When Cousin Liz ordered still water—but received sparkling—our waitress argued and insisted that she gave us still water. I promise that these were not translation errors.)  And tonight we might try Paulaner Wirtshaus followed by Eissalon Venezia. It looks like they’ll be opting out of Döner, unfortunately. More Döner for me.

By Monday my life will have returned to normal: No more working from home. No more eating at restaurants. No more reading or traveling. I’m sad to see this chapter end. It suits me better than a cubicle. I think Elizabeth has enjoyed it, too, having me around the apartment instead of whittling away my hours in the office. Well…I’ll just keep my fingers crossed that I don’t die before I retire.

I realize that I promised more consistent blog posts, and that absolutely has not happened. But, honestly, if anyone was surprised by my lack of follow-through, that’s on them. I’m what I call a pie-in-the-sky optimist—or “delusional”—which means that I’ll advertise the Best Case Scenario no matter how lousy the odds, because I’m happier living inside the lie. I’m lying to myself so convincingly that I’ll truly believe it when I tell someone, “Don’t worry, I’ll make it on time,” when I’m already five minutes late. In short: Don’t invite me anywhere.

I’m very proud to announce that I’m a father now. My son's name is Max, and he’s a sweaty little ball of hiccups. Well, it was actually my sweat because it’s 90 degrees in this top-floor apartment with no air-conditioning, but now that sweat is all over him, so I think an argument could be made that Max is now the owner of said sweat. And of hiccups. Max is a champion hiccuper. (I’ve just added “hiccuper” to my Microsoft Word dictionary, and I’d suggest anyone reading this do the same.)




The big news this week is that Max’s grandma is visiting for the first time! She arrived late on Tuesday, and they make an adorable pair. If I can snag a photo, I’ll stick it in here. Grandma is so happy to meet Max that she hasn’t complained once about the heat. Grandma came bearing gifts of diapers and milk bags, which Max’s parents can’t wait to play with.




And yesterday Max received a box from Louisville, KY! As well as two letters from the city of Schwäbisch Gmünd. Less than one month old and already Max receives more mail than I do. The kid doesn’t even have a birth certificate yet. I’m afraid all of this popularity will go straight to his head.

The problem with babies—especially first babies, I’m assuming—is that: (1) They are indefensibly time-consuming, considering that they don’t move or talk or even be awake very well, because (2) They are positively fascinating. Why? Newborns barely do more than nothing. And what little they do should have no chance at competing with, say, Emmy Award Winning television. But, no. Turn that TV off because I’m watching Max stretch with his little chin in the air. I guess what I’m saying is: Of course I’ve not kept up with the blog. I’ve kept up with essentially nothing since Max was born. Except showering. I’ve started showering now that Grandma’s in town. It seemed like the least I could do.

Next week I’ll be in Munich for a few days, which will be a blast, and so maybe I’ll come back and post about that.

Last week, work asked us to sum up our German experience. Since this Monday also marked 70% complete for me and Elizabeth, because I need to write blogs more often, and because there's no baby yet, I decided to share my answers with you guys here. No pictures this time. Sorry!


What is your home Bosch location?:
I come from FleP (KY).

Which location did you move to?:
I’m on assignment in Sgm-Z (Germany).

Length of assignment:
Originally 2 years and 8 months, though it has just been extended a little bit to 2 years and 11 months.

How long have you been in your new location?:
I moved with Elizabeth on May 1, 2015. We just celebrated our 2 year anniversary.

From a personal perspective can you provide some of the benefits of this expat experience?:
Of course I’ve learned about different cultures—unexpected ways that Germany is similar to the US (local stereotypes about Swabians are not unlike the stereotypes about Kentuckians) and unexpected ways Germany is different (total economic shutdowns on Sundays). Also, being an expat has challenged me in a number of ways (language, distance from familiarity, etc.) that I might’ve never risked without the safety net of Bosch underneath me.

Same question from a professional perspective?:
“Best practices” is the biggest benefit for me. Because I deal with every international location now, I’ve been able utilize our resources across the globe and combine for a much better end result.

What have you learned through this experience that you value the most?:
I have learned… that it’s okay to not be good at everything (language will probably never be my expertise). And to ask for help. I’ve needed so much help these past two years. When I return to FleP and we receive new expats, I will be much more aware of the help that they need.

How long did it take you and your family to adjust/settle in? Or are you still adjusting?:
My wife and I spent at least 5 months settling. After 6 weeks in a temporary apartment, we moved into our permanent home with only a refrigerator, pull-out couch, and a television. It was another 3+ months, and a lot of headache, before we finally got a kitchen. Washing dishes in the bathtub got old fast. Socially, we’ve adjusted in waves. We’ve acquired and lost (due to their relocation) several friends in Germany, each loss transporting us back to our awkward/loner phase. But now I feel confident that our friendship base is strong enough and large enough to no longer be an issue.

If you had to make the decision to do it again, would you? Why?:
I think I would. Germany is an amazing country, even without being able to speak the language. And I feel like this experience has changed me in millions of microscopic ways. We’ll find out next year if I have difficulty readjusting to Kentucky as a result.

Would you recommend the experience to other Bosch associates? Why?:
Short term? Absolutely. Being around completely different people with different beliefs and customs causes you to take a step back from your own beliefs and see them more objectively. It requires you to be open to ideas, to rely upon others, and to step out of your safety bubble.

In my last post, I mentioned I was expecting an American coworker (Tyler) to visit on business. Well, that wasn’t entirely correct. Honestly, I'd say that it was more incorrect than it was correct. That one coworker became two, which became four, which then became five.

Elizabeth got the brunt of it because she’s too nice for her own good. Specifically: when an American visits, she becomes Wonder Woman. Take last Friday as an example. At 10 AM, Elizabeth met up with Sherri—Pam’s mother—because Sherri was alone in Hotel Fortuna for the day. “Who’s Pam?” you might ask. “Who’s Pam?” I asked Elizabeth. “Works for Bosch,” she said.

Anyway, what had begun for Elizabeth as lunch, then turned into an extensive city tour, then shopping, then ice cream with both Sherri and Pam. Eight hours passed, and Elizabeth was still chugging along, so I intercepted her in Marktplatz and dragged her, along with Tyler and another Florence coworker (Josh), to the Little Schnitzel House (where Elizabeth and I consumed more meat than we had during all of 2017 combined). Schnitzel’ed out but still thirsty, our group moved on to a cave bar (I’ve discovered that “cave” is a very popular form of bar in Europe), and then moved once again to M7 (another bar, but less cave-like). It was here that we happened to bump into Pam & Sherri. In that horribly overcrowded bar, they had somehow acquired a table for themselves, so our group of four plopped ourselves on top Pam & Sherri’s laps. Drinks followed drinks, and more drinks. It was midnight before Elizabeth and I finally bailed. Good thing, too. Word is, they closed the bar (3 AM).

Before I forget, we did indeed buy a plant, even though not even I thought we really would. After one day in our custody, I can proudly say that the plant has yet to die.




Saturday… was totally botched. I, as the penny tour guide, was trusted with Tyler’s entertainment, and I had suggested the Stuttgart Frühlingsfest (mini-Oktoberfest). Tyler & Josh shot me down, for good reason: the cost was minimum 50 euros, the entire day would be lost to drinking, rain was extremely likely. In retrospect, though, I should've persisted. Of course Stuttgart was a hard sell—hopping on a train and frivolously spending their limited cash. But if I gave them just a little push, they would’ve had a blast. They were relying on me to convince them to go, and I failed them.

As a consolation, I tried to take my two guys to the local Flea Market, but the noon closing time made it a no-go. Another fail.

Elizabeth had far greater success with Pam & Sherri. We helped them print/scan docs, showed them the Flea Market, grocery, and clothing store, and helped them carry everything from their souvenir spree. I also bought trinkets for Tyler & Josh so they wouldn’t feel too left out.

I first met Bill on Sunday (also from Florence), when I brought Tyler & Josh their trinkets. He had just arrived, and all three of them would be attending the same training the following week. No trinkets for Bill—but what can you do. Now five of us counting Elizabeth and me, together we caught a bus to Heubach for dinner at Altes Sudhaus, for fine German cuisine and camaraderie. By the way, I also phoned in a table reservation, which is a first for me. So, big day.

Thursday was Elizabeth’s final baby class. There weren’t any caps and gowns, as far as I know. But Elizabeth brought cookies, so that’s something. I guess we’re officially ready to be parents now. Hahahahaha… ahhhh.

Puppies, Cats, & Cake! (Tiervermittlung.biz) That happened today. Sarah and Julia picked us up as usual, because they’re super (Germans say "super", and now I only say "super" apparently) amazing. We were so excited that we walked two rounds. First came the minis: Pillar, Kobra, and Chappy. Sorry. “Chapi.”




Kobra was the same hairless girly we walked last month. All three dogs were adorable and lousy walking buddies. Which was fine because Chapi didn’t mind being carried. He’d give me kisses for my troubles. In any case, it turned out they were actually excellent walkers, at least compared to our second round. Mister and Rocky, specifically, only wanted to sit and cuddle with Elizabeth and Julia.




As you might’ve guessed, Elizabeth cuddled for so long that we missed our cake. All of the cake plates were empty when we walked into the cat rescue, and we were forced to settle for sad little muffins. Still good, but now I need more dessert. Which I can’t get because today is Sunday and tomorrow is a holiday, meaning nothing will be open until Tuesday. Woe! Just… woe.

After muffins, I bought a German book and a CD from their shop. To call it a “Secondhand shop” would be too generous. It’s a shed filled with donated, used stuff. The shed is so filled, in fact, that you cannot see a majority of items because they are lost in stacked boxes 3 or 4 deep. Prices are made up on the spot, too, but it’s generally only 1 euro.

I don’t know what I’ll do with my free day tomorrow. Probably finish reading “The Ocean at the End of the Lane,” assuming I don’t read through it tonight. Halfway in, the atmosphere is incredibly similar to “Coraline.” I wonder if it’ll become a movie (IMDB.com says it’s in development). Maybe we'll see Alena again to celebrate her new job starting on Tuesday!

Tell me about your day. I’m all ears.

It's Easter weekend, which is quite a big deal over here. Well, at least a bigger deal than in America. Easter was always strictly a Sunday activity for me growing up. Typically just church and then lunch, once I outgrew the egg hunts. But in Germany both Friday and Monday are national holidays, ALL stores are closed Fri/Sun/Mon (except gas stations, I suppose), the nearby city of Aalen has a street festival, and various local Catholic churches have special services. Liz and I were invited to a Saturday service. We'll snap a picture if we go. So, what are your Easter plans?

Also! we'll be babysitting vampire cat again, but only for one day, and absolutely not in our apartment this time around. Sorry. No crazy cat parties this time.

Next week a coworker from KY is visiting for about ten days. He'll be busy, but it's his first time over here, and he's alone, so I plan on seeing him a few times. I owe him anyway - he picked out my shoes.

If you haven't heard, twice now Liz and I have joined Puppies, Cats, & Cake. That's when we walk shelter dogs for an hour or two, play with shelter cats, and then eat homemade cake. It's as spectacular as it sounds. Some dogs are better than others. Rosa had her moments.




(Those are the shoes that I mentioned, btw.)
And some dogs were... special.




My coworker, Sarah, and her sister, Julia, take us each month. This last time, new friend Alena joined us as well. The next Puppies, Cats, & Cake is at the end of April. We'll see if Liz is up for it, being 8.5 months pregnant.

Umm... Liz and I are making a giant commitment soon. We're buying a fern! Liz and I have horrid track records with caring for plants. Not to mention that the cats' are obsessed with vegetation. As a result we've lived 100% plant-free for years now. All of that is about to change because I randomly decided we needed something green in the apartment. Maybe red. We'll see. Wish us luck!

I haven't shaved my face in 2017. That's news, I guess. It's not as much hair as one might think since my jowls are naturally bald. But it's bright red, so I get lots of attention, which, you know, is what I'm all about.

Beer! This is sad news for Liz, but very exciting for me: the grocery near us now carries a selection of not-terrible beer. One small corner now contains some German craft brews - and Stone Arrogant Bastard. About ten choices in total. Now, it's not America expensive, but it's certainly Germany expensive, at 2 or 3 euros per bottle, so I probably won't buy them often. It's just nice to be around good beer.

Sorry there aren't better pictures, and that we haven't traveled anywhere lately. Liz is busy growing things, and I'm just lazy. I do have cat pictures because, you know, cats. But there are enough pictures of cats online as it is.

FROHE OSTERN!