The Ides of March

We filled the last few weeks with cooking classes, skiing lessons, and bike rides downtown.  Sunshine and 60 degree weather beckoned us outside and we enjoyed open windows and fresh air.  Dave introduced sports day - biking, baseball, soccer, and basketball folded into the weekend afternoons.  We biked downtown to the amazing farmer's markets.  Huge change from last year when it snowed EVERY DAY from Thanksgiving to Easter.

Wan, an amazing Thai cook, introduced me to her native cuisine.    Her mother ran a food truck in Bangkok.  She took us to an Asian grocery store and showed us the various vegetables, coconut milks, curry pastse, and fish sauces.  We returned to her house where she showed us how to make Red Curry Pork, Pad Thai, and Thai Fried-Rice.  This class was the last in a series of six.  I only learned about it recently, so I talked her into a doing a private one in April.

Last weekend, we traveled back to southern Germany for a weekend of skiing in Garmish.  The unseasonable warm weather created poor conditions for real skiers.  Thankfully, I can barely stand in my skis, so I welcomed the sun.  I spent the first 90 minutes of my class cursing the graceful kids cruising around me in this "Kinderland."  How can I cut my all-day class down to two hours without looking like I a drop out.  I looked at the snow "beach" chairs with envy.  My calves screamed at me and I wondered at what point this activity would become fun.  Of course, my kids already graduated to the next level hill while I could barely make a wedge.  I did enjoy the long lunch break, and two cappuccinos eased my afternoon.

At 2:30, I met the kids at the mountain restaurant to conclude the lessons.  Their instructor said, "Owen and Emily did a great job.  Have a safe trip home."  "What??  You are not coming with me??"  I silently yelled, "You expect me to get myself, these two kids, and this equipment back down the mountain by myself??"  "Pull yourself together,"  I thought.  I mentally broke the journey back into three parts.

Part 1: Emily, Owen, and I slowly sludged to the ski lift.  A few tears.  A few panicked yells, "Keep walking." We made it.

Part 2:  I pushed the two kids onto the moving ski lift, secured my skis, and jumped in.  A huge sigh of relief.  Yes, I managed to get everyone safely in - my first time ever going down a ski lift.

Part 3:  At the mountain bottom, we jump off.  Owen notices his $32 gloves remained on the moving box.  I try to grab them.  My awkwardly huge boot gets caught.  The kids start screaming in panic.  The German ski worker does not offer to help or stop the lift.  Instead, he starts yelling at me in German.  The lift continues moving.  A kind person picks me up.  The German guy continues to yell at me.  I look at him and yell back in English, "Look this is my first time," grab my screaming kids, and attempt to walk away with dignity.  Never again.

We always stop at our favorite donut store when we bike downtown.  America… and Germany… Runs on Dunkin.

Cultural Differences

Dave spent the winter working at the Consulate in an office with German Nationals.  Each morning he greeted Claudia, "How ya doing."  When he returned from lunch he would again say, "Hey, how ya doing."

"Still fine," Claudia said irritated.

"Oh do I say that a lot?"

"You all do."

"Does that bother you?"

"It seems…..what is the word for plastic?"