Snowbird

One thing I've always loved about southwest Germany is that the winters are SO much milder than what one endures in Wisconsin. The temps aren't as low, the windchill not as threatening and the snowfall usually a joke compared to what one has in WI. We've gone entire winter seasons here only having to use our shovel a handful of times. Other times a broom is sufficient. Yes, we've had some significant snowstorms as well, but at least the streets get cleared well (so one doesn't have to drive on a sheet of ice for 2 months, unlike in WI) and the snow doesn't last long.

My snowbird. Or maybe snowhawk?

I didn't pay much attention to nighttime temps because I've been snug under my Federbett with the window tilted open all winter long.

Bring on December 2022, the first year we have our Harris hawk, who lives outside in her mew. FFS, I've not noticed temps this cold for this extended a period since I moved here! It's still nothing like Wisconsin - in fact I just converted the coldest upcoming temp and found it to be still double-digits-above-zero °Fahrenheit! But we can't bring her in because the temperature differential between inside and outside is now too great that it's not healthy for her to go in and out.

Unfortunately no one can convince me that "she'll be fine." It's like when a mom puts another sweater on her kid because the mom is cold - except I can't put a sweater on her. I had a brief "Ah-hah!" moment the other night when I pondered on the fact that I was warm in bed because I was covered in...feathers. But then the next night I had to add a blanket on top of my Federbett.

Kayas first snow:
I feel like she's screaming, "WTF?!?!"

M put up another perch today in the inner mew, this one with a warming cord running along the wood, covered with something like Astroturf (perching on that is good for her feet, but she also has perches that are just branches because raptors need options). And he added a layer of insulation on top the inner mew that should keep it more comfortable in there, especially when it's windy. We didn't turn on the heat yet (we'll test it tomorrow) because we want to be present when it's warmed to make sure all is well, it works but is not too hot, etc. But Kaya did accept the new perch and went to sleep there for the night.

I've read in two books about Harris hawks that the cold is not a problem for them as long as they are in a dry and draft-free mew. The ground of her mew is natural earth and grass, and the ground in Germany is never dry in winter. But her perches are high up off the ground. She does have protection from drafts, especially if she chooses to sleep in her inner mew.

These books were written by experts on Harris hawks in Germany and in the U.S. They have many, many years of experience and know what they're talking about. And still I worry about her out there in the cold because I would hate to have to sleep out there regardless of how many layers I might be wearing. Every morning when she starts squawking (sometime between 5:00 and 6:45) I jolt awake and my first thought is, "Oh thank God, she's ok!"

I've spent some time thinking fondly back to August, when she was new here and I worried about her because it was so hot. I can't believe she's only been with us for four months!

This is my "I hate winter" face.
She's looking for crows.

To date she has successfully bagged 10 crows and shows herself to be a willing and enthusiastic hunter. The ones she hasn't bagged were often because of a mistake I made, sometimes because she was too enthusiastic and flopping around and banging me in the face with her wings, thereby alerting the clever crows to the danger they were in, other times because the crows out-maneuvered her, and sometimes just dumb bad luck. We continue learning together and will keep trying until the end of the crow-hunting season in mid-February.

The Revenge of the Duftkerze

I love Duftkerzen (scented candles). I'm picky about the scent and don't like them all, but in general I enjoy a gentle scent in the house despite the Feinstaub (fine particle polution). M hates them. Hates. He does not throw that word around lightly and would only use it toward someone who would do his family harm. And Duftkerzen. 

Some days after his lunch break I will light one for an hour or two, and when he comes home two or three hours after I've blown it out, I hear him open the door, walk over to change his shoes to Hausschuhe, and snort. He knows. When he finds and greets me he snorts again and asks, "Did you light a Duftkerze?" "Yes, but I blew it out three hours ago!" Still...he knows.

I know this about him and I accept it. But sometimes I still need to light one because they make me happy. Especially lavendar, rosemary, sandalwood...Natural scents, not fake flowery, soapy, or fruity ones. But to him it doesn't matter what they smell like. They're all bad.

Last week wednesday early afternoon I lit this lovely little candle in the bedroom. I blew it out an hour later and thought it just added a nice subtle scent. I waited for M to say something about it when we went to bed, but he didn't. Whew.

The next afternoon I lit it again but forgot about it. It burned for about three hours. Ok, fine...I blew it out when I remembered, and we had a good seven hours before bedtime so I opened the window.

We needed to be up earlier than usual the next morning because I had an excursion and M needed to drive me to the Park & Ride before work, so we went to bed a bit before midnight. Oh. My. God. The bedroom stank so strongly of that damn Duftkerze I feared retribution. I like its herbal scent! But it was still way too strong after seven hours despite the open window. It could have covered the scent of a corpse.

I got into bed before he did and pretended to be asleep when he opened the door. Then I lay there awake for three hours feeling guilty. Was the scent somehow meant to revitalize rather than relax? He couldn't sleep either, judging from how much he tossed around. I tried burying my face in my pillow, but I couldn't breathe. I threw the duvet over my head but it got too warm. I thought about fleeing to the living room sofa, but I figured I should suffer with him since I'm the fool who'd lit the damn thing and forgot about it. Sometime after 3:30 I finally fell asleep.

In the morning M wordlessly moved our air filter (which we normally turn on in the dining room after we've cooked tacos or fish) into the bedroom and turned it on volle Pulle (full blast). I returned from my excursion mid-afternoon, and by then the room smelled like worms on a rainy day. Probably the air filter was trying to kill itself. I turned it off and opened the window.

An hour later I went back to check things out, and the candle smell was back! OMG...I think it got into the walls and the bedding. I started pondering what to do. I could...

1. light a different Duftkerze to counter this scent. Not willing to risk legitimate grounds for divorce, I thought...
2. we could move into one of the guest rooms for a few weeks. But they are full of innumerable piles of my "I'll deal with this later" stuff. Right. Clearly, there's only one choice.
3. We need to sell the house.

With M, Reason returned home while I was trying to figure out how many weeks it would take us to organize the junk in the Keller to get the house ready for showings, and he assured me we don't need to move. What we needed was proper Lüften! Open up all the windows and doors in the entire house and exchange the air. Force that heinous Duftkerze smell out. It was a damp evening, though, and that's more of an afternoon thing. We did some mini-Lüften and hoped for the best.

That second night was slightly better. At least we didn't lose more sleep. The next day we did our Lüften properly like good Swabians, and it improved some more. It took several days, though, before the stink of that discourteous Duftkerze faded completely.

I can tell you this - I have sworn on my dead Sheltie's soul that I will never light another Duftkerze in the bedroom again, and it will be a good long while before I light one anywhere in the house. I've learned that lesson well. To his credit, M didn't give me any more grief about it than I gave myself. A lesser man and most women would be rubbing my nose in this misjudgement for weeks, no pun intended.

By now the bedroom is back to normal, the Duftkerze was evicted right after its photo was taken, and I have banished all my other Duftkerzen, scented soaps and Christmas incense cones to the basement. 

All's well that ends well. 

A Soggy Swabian Saturday

Due to a lack of ideas lately but inspired a post by Courtney from Welcome to Germerica, I thought I'd try a "day in the life" post. Saturdays in Swabia are mainly about working around one's home and Hof, so I thought I could also use this as incentive to be busier than I usually am. Spring is upon us, so there's plenty of Gartenarbeit to keep us busy, and of course there's the Kehrwoche, which should be taken care of today.

Mother Nature had other plans for us, however. It rained all morning, which meant that indoor work was the new plan for the day. There's always plenty of that, of course.

First things first, though. A cup or two of coffee, a check for emails, and a look at the weekend newspaper.

I had also received an SMS (text message) from my dad, who is trekking in the Himalayas with our 80-year-old friend. He said they had an exhausting day of hiking today but had made it to their lodge. While I got caught up on the news, M watched the qualifying for this weekend's Formula-1 race in China.

After the qualifying M went to the office to do his Saturday jobs which happily didn't involve cleaning up cat puke, along with a few other tasks that are hard to get done during the week when the phone is ringing constantly.

For me the next order of business after getting cleaned up and ready for the day was a walk to the butcher, since they close at 12:30 on Saturdays and I had lazed away too much of the morning already.

Still raining, hence the umbrella. The butcher is only an 8-minute walk from home, though, and there's no way I'd drive there regardless of weather.

I always pick up the weekly Lukullus magazine at the butcher, which has a different theme every week and ideas for recipes. Since Spargelsaison started locally on Thursday, this issue was very timely.

I took some time to have a snack and look through the magazine when I got home. There isn't a recipe in there that sounds as tempting as the one we like best, but we might try one or two anyway.

Since there was no more delaying it, it was time to start tidying up and cleaning the house. It's thoroughly embarrassing that I cannot manage to keep the house clean and tidy for more than a few days. I keep wondering "How hard can it be - just always put everything where it belongs when you return home from somewhere, and work on one thing at a time." And yet still, the clutter reigns and the house looks in disarray.

I threw in a load of laundry (because the washer needs nearly three hours and the dryer another 2) and started in the bathroom, which is the job I hate the most. A Swabian isn't supposed to whine about cleaning, though, so I restricted myself to an occasional dramatic sigh.

When M returned home he tackled the monster windows in the Wintergarten, which had been too long neglected.

I did the ones in the bedrooms, which was a much smaller and quicker job. But housework is boring to write and read about, so what else is there to do on a Saturday when it's raining?

Around 14:00 I checked Facebook and emails again knowing my peeps in the U.S. would be starting to awaken. Then I laid out my after-chores reading plan.

The May Garten magazine arrived the other day, so I looked through that for seasonal instructions and ideas in the hopes of killing fewer plants than I did last year. Then it was time to see what's on special at Real next week and write my grocery list. After that I started writing to my daughter about my experience at the Ausländeramt the other day, and I intended to finish by reviewing some German.  There are still too many things I cannot confidently say in German, and it's getting disturbing.

Dinner tonight was leftover grilled vegetables and steak (Entrecôte) from last night, which was absolutely delicious but not photo-worthy.

I'm sort of between books right now, so I'm not sure yet what I'll be reading in the evening while M watches TV. Since my afternoon didn't include a nap, which is quite unusual for me, I'll probably fall asleep on the sofa while pretending to read.

Update: Shortly after I wrote that last paragraph I fell asleep on the sofa. I'm probably good to go now for the rest of the evening and might be able to stay awake until bedtime.

After dinner we watched "die Pferdeprofis", a show in which two horse trainers help horses overcome their people problems. I like this show, maybe just because I get to watch horses for 45 minutes, but one thing bothers me every time. The male trainer never wears a helmet when he rides, nor do any of his assistants, I think that's a bad example to set, and it makes me grumble. He usually works with horses and people who do western riding, but still.

I'm finishing the evening with a combination of German learning, writing, and reading. M is watching a celebrity Völkerball tournament, which is kind of like dodgeball, and channel surfing when that gets boring, but he mutes the TV for me when he steps out.

Next Saturday I'll be picking up my mom at the Stuttgart airport because she's visiting for two weeks!

What did you do today? Did you have a good and productive day?

Photography Advice from an AirBnB Newbie

In 2014 when my daughter and I decided to travel to Rome for 5 days, I looked into AirBnB for the first time. I found some totally intriguing places - none of which were perfect - but in the end chickened out and reserved a room in a hotel that was really great for us.

Very recently I started making arrangements for a short trip to München and my trip to visit my daughter in Philadelphia, and both of my travel companions (that is, not M) were willing to try AirBnB. In a rather short time span, I booked a place in München for two nights and a room in a small town in New Jersey for one night. Both places have good reviews and seem to fit our needs, and the hosts responded to my inquiry and questions quickly. I think we'll be in good hands, and I'm looking forward to trying this out.

Even though I'm an AirBnB newbie, I do have some advice for people who are listing apartments or properties on the site and who want to attract rather than repell potential guests. For obvious reasons I'm not putting other people's photos here (except one, source noted) to use as bad examples. The photos were all taken by M or me of various places we've lived. The photos are all based on ones I have seen recently on AirBnB while searching for an accommodation.

1. Photos of the Accommodation

Post photos that are in focus, upright, and show the actual accommodations. A photo of a blurry orange cat and no additional photos of the place or room you are offering....No.  A blurry sideways photo of what might be a bed as your cover photo for the accommodation....No.  I actually exclaimed "OMG" at several that I'd clicked on because the price was right, but the photos sent me screaming and running.

Seriously - I saw a photo like this, except that it was also blurry.
And it was the cover (or main) picture.

Again, not helpful. Get (photography) help.

This is our end table. It's a fine photo if I'm selling it on Ebay,
but not for including in an ad for an accommodation I'm renting.

This is not artistic creativity. It's....weird.

For the love of photographic decency, look at other hosts' photos of their accommodations, and copy the good examples. There are a lot of good examples! If you can't distinguish the good examples from the bad, I wouldn't bother listing your flat or room.

2. Cover Photo of Accommodation

I don't have a property listed on AirBnB and therefore don't know how if the cover photo is randomly chosen or if the host chooses it. I have to believe, because I have seen so many good cover photos, that the host can choose it. After you do so, check out what it looks like from a potential client's point-of-view and change it if necessary.

This isn't the cover photo I would choose for a room in this house, but it does show
that it's a bungalow-style house with a patio and a good-sized yard.

If I did choose that for the cover photo, though, it might come out like this (apparently, according to some I have seen:

not flattering

3. Photo of You as Host

Ask someone who is not a close family member or friend, who might actually give you an honest response, which photo you should use as a profile picture. Or possibly go to a cafe and show your potential profile pic to a stranger. Tell her you're thinking of renting a room from that person, and ask her what she thinks. If you look like a creeper who wants to get into the pants of any guest you might lure, you will frighten people away. If you resemble Golom on your photo, I'm not renting from you.

I adore Sheldon. But I'm not renting a room from him.
source

I vetoed several accommodations because of this. Sorry, but sometimes people DO judge by appearance, especially in a photo that was chosen by the host.

4. Skip Photos of the City

When I'm searching AirBnB for a flat, I want to see photos of the accommodation, not the city it's in or near. Searching in München and finding a place with photos of Oktoberfest, Nymphenburg, and Marienplatz is wasting my time. If I want to know what Oktoberfest looks like, I'll search for photos of that. And even if I wanted to go to Oktoberfest (which I definitely do not. Ever.), such photos are not helpful if I'm searching for a flat in München in March.

I love this photo M took in Hamburg, but if I'm not advertising one of the visible flats,
it's not helpful for AirBnB.

Five good photos of the accommodation are better than 15 photos of the city.

5. Other Photos I Would Not Include

These are recreations of actual photos I saw while looking at AirBnB accommodations. All photos were taken by M or by me.

Since as a guest I will not be spending much time at this particular location,
it's not a helpful photo for your ad. "The room is on the second floor" is sufficient.
I will assume there are stairs to get there.

This is a window. I'm not sure what the point would be,
because it doesn't even show much of the view (which isn't nice anyway).

This is not a photo of the accommodation; this is a cat.
Unless you require your guest to care for the cat, it's not helpful.
Not even if you really love your cat.

Local amorous wildlife in the yard. Why?

Nice bonsai plant. What does this photo tell me about the accommodation?
Nothing except that the photographer (I) doesn't know how to set up a good photo
of a bonsai plant with a bright white background.
Even if s/he did, are you renting to me a room, or a bonsai plant?

I'm sorry for sounding so critical, but when potential renters have to base their decision on your written description and the photos you personally chose for your ad, you want them to be the best possible. For me, it says something less than positive about the owner if the photos are crappy or not helpful. If I look at an ad in which there are few photos of the rooms I'll be renting but several of the grass outside (with or without ducks) or the city, I'm guessing the flat is not flattering in photos. If the owner can't make the flat or rooms look appealing on a few photos, I don't want to stay there.

Perhaps other AirBnB customers are less picky than I am. But if you have listed your place there and haven't had many responses or guests, take a hard look at your photos and see if the problem might be there.


P.S. Our AirBnB experience in München was fine! The host's photos made the apartment look a little nicer than it was, which was to be expected - hotels do that, too. It was a comfortable-enough college kid's flat in a perfectly fine location accessed through a pretty sketchy-looking Hinterhof (courtyard). He didn't include any photos of the Hinterhof, which was a good choice. Although we didn't meet him personally, he patiently and quickly helped us solve two problems by phone (we couldn't figure out how to get the volume on for the TV to watch the news, and we blew the fuse to the entire flat on the first morning and couldn't find the box).

The place my daughter and I are staying in New Jersey later this spring is just for one night, and the host is a young German woman. I settled on that one because of the great photos, one of which showed that the bed is German-style! And unlike the second photo I posted above, hers was nicely in focus...

Here we go again

It snowed here yesterday. ALL day long. We have had no more than ten flakes of snow this season until yesterday, and temperatures have been nearer to autumn than winter. It's still not very cold by Wisconsin standards - hovering close to freezing, but still warm enough that sidewalks are clear of snow and ice in the sunny bits where they have been shoveled.

It might be pretty if I liked snow even a little. I do not. The only thing snow means to me is work (shoveling and snowblowing), potential injuries from slipping on our front steps, and even more danger on the roads.

I readily admit that photos of snowy mountains - the Alps, the Tetons, the Rockies - and snowy Alaska in the winter look gorgeous...as long as I am looking at postcards or online photos from the cozy warmth of my living room. I have fond memories of cross-country skiing with my family in northern Wisconsin, a few vague memories of downhill skiing on bunny hills, ice skating with friends in a park near my childhood home, and sledding on the one hill in my hometown. I'm glad I have those memories, and I have no desire to resume any of those activities.

So we have deep snow now (deep for here). Hopefully it will melt in the next few days so I can drive again. You see, here's the problem...

Shoveling in Germany

Streets are narrow, and the sidewalks are right against the curb at the street - no spacious row of grass between the sidewalk and the street. As I've written before, most Swabians have fences or huge hedges at the edge of their property. So when it comes time to shovel a healthy dose of the "weiße Scheiße", where do they go with snow? They push it into the street.

In the above photo I'm standing on our sidewalk looking at our driveway, and beyond is our neighbors' sidewalk. I took this photo because it shows the width of the sidewalk with and without snow, the height of the neighbors' hedge (in other words, there is no way for them to throw the snow over the hedge into their yard), and how much snow is on the street. If I'd taken a photo in the other direction, the street would look the same because I had to teach yesterday afternoon and didn't have time to do a proper job.

When dry and snowless, our street is just wide enough for two cars to drive slowly past each other. With snow it's a single-lane street with the thankfully infrequent traffic going both ways. 

With a high hedge, wall, or fence at the property line, I get it that the snow has to be pushed into the street - there's nowhere else for it to go. All the neighbors on the left side of the street above have an additional problem of having no front yard. They have only driveways, garages, and hedges, so there is also no place to throw the snow. But even people who have low hedges or fences do this. Our hedge is now chest-high on me, and it's a pain, but the Wisconsinite in me cannot shovel the snow into the street. I throw it over the hedge. Luckily we have a snowblower, so if I were willing to use middle-weight machinery, snow removal would be even easier for me.

I want our entire sidewalk to look like our driveway does - no snow at the curb. Our neighbors would probably think I'm nuts - I forget to do Kehrwoche on Saturdays, but I waste time shoveling snow from the street/curb.

It would probably be futile anyway, because of course when the snow plow comes through the snow would all be back. That's no big deal - I'm surely used to that from Wisconsin. You just go back out and do it all again. The joys of winter.

"I know you just spent 2 hours shoveling, kids,
but the plow just came past again. I'll get the hot cocoa ready."

One more thing about snow in Germany: there are lots of paths snaking through our village behind and between houses allowing pedestrians to get around more easily. There's one directly across from our front gate, and that's M's usual route to the office.

This is the path during a nicer season,
and just beyond the bicycle barriers is our front gate.

At the start of winter city workers put up a sign here saying "Kein Winterdienst", meaning they're not going to bother shoveling or salting this path during winter. But we (and others) use this path all the time - I use it when I walk to the butcher, the bus stop, the recycling center, the mailbox, and the grocery store. Since we have a snowblower, M usually plows this path up to the point where it turns into someone else's driveway. That person shovels or plows his driveway, of course, but stops at the start of this path (behind me as I'm taking this picture). Yesterday evening when M plowed here, that guy was shoveling as well and said to M, "You know, you don't have to clear snow from there." M said he knows, but since he uses that path everyday, he would rather clear the snow.

While I am slowly turning into a Swabian (or at least a Neig'schmeckte), some of the American has rubbed off on M as well. An American - if he had time and especially a snowblower - would shovel or plow this path because 

  a. it makes sense to do so especially if he uses the path, 

  b. he's already bundled up anyway and it won't take long, and/or

  c. ...why not? 

A German would tend not to clear the snow here because

  a. he's got enough to do with his own chores, or

  b. it's not his property, or

  c. there's no law or rule that says he has to.

Those are M's footprints from this morning. He would be tromping
through ankle-deep snow if he hadn't cleared this last path night.

The path forks here - clearly people also use the path to the right,
though no one but time and nature will clear that snow.

It's not that I'm blaming Germans for not clearing snow they're not required to clear. Life in Germany is so heavily regulated by laws and rules for what one must and may not do, that if there isn't a rule or law for something, there's no need to think about it. Winter brings snow and snow means boots, because sometimes you'll be trudging through snow banks (like when you need to cross a street in our village) or snow-covered paths that no one is required to clear.

My point, in case you've read this far, is that although I am often hard on Americans and tend to favor the German way of doing things, clearing snow is one of the things Wisconsinites do better. Granted, they have much more space available for shoveled or plowed snow - huge yards and parking lots, for instance. But even though most Wisconsin streets are wide enough for at least three cars to drive abreast with or without snow, Wisconsinites do whatever needs to be done to keep the snow off the streets.

I'll end with a few more photos of what I do not miss about Wisconsin.

This is Wisconsin - pretty much all winter long.
And it's so cold that any uncleared snow quickly turns to ice
and stays ice until sometime in March.

There were weeks when - even with all this space - we didn't know
where to throw the snow. The drifts were too high.

We sometimes had to climb onto the drifts next to the driveway
to shovel the pile further into the yard so we could add the snow
from a new storm.  Fun times.

P.S. This post was not approved by a German. M sees nothing unusual or wrong with the way Swabians shovel, and I accept that. :-)

Dreikönigstag 20*C+M+B+16

For long-time readers, this is an old post slightly edited and updated for this year with new photos taken moments ago.

Today is Dreikönigstag, Epiphany, which signals the end of the Christmas holidays here in Germany. Tomorrow regular work resumes for those who didn't already have to be back earlier this week, though classes don't resume in Baden-Württemberg schools until Monday.  In the States, school and work resumed on Jan. 4th - as soon after New Year's Day as possible.

On Dreikönigstag here in southern Germany, groups of children called Sternsinger go from house to house dressed in kingly costumes and carrying a lighted star. They sing a song, recite a poem about the three kings, write a blessing on the door frame, and collect a donation for a charity.  People they visit may also give them a treat - some chocolate, candy, etc. - to give them energy to carry on through the day. In our little village several groups of children are deployed with their adult chaperones to every house. Most people are home to greet them because today is a stiller Feiertag (holiday) in Baden-Württemberg.

This year's group was adorable! They sang very well and had their lines memorized, and they seemed to appreciate our donation and the nibblies.

The blessing they write on the door frame is (this year) 20*C+M+B+16.  Each piece of the blessing has a meaning.

    20...16 is the current year.
    The * represents the Star of Bethlehem.
    C M B stands for Christus Mansionem Benedicat** ("Christ Bless this House" in Latin)
    The three crosses represent the trinity.

**It is a common misconception that the C M B stands for the initials of the names of the three kings, which coincidentally are Casper, Melchior, and Balthazar.

The blessing stays on the door until the next Dreikönigstag, when the entire blessing is wiped off and rewritten for the new year.

I truly love this tradition, and I got giddy when I heard their footsteps on the front porch! It brings closure to the Christmas season in a really nice way. If I could send one holiday tradition to America, I'd send this one.

After the Sternsinger leave, it's time to take down Christmas. The decorations go back into their boxes, the tree branches get cut off and placed over garden plants to protect them against the cold, the tree trunk gets chopped up and put in the garage to use for firewood in 2 years when it's dry (because nothing gets wasted or thrown out in Swabia!), and the nativity scene gets packed away until next December. This year we're actually going to wait a bit; our neighbors told us just the other day and my Schwiegermutter confirmed it that the Catholic tradition is to wait until Mariä Lichtmess (Candlemas - February 2nd) to take down Christmas!

It was a lovely Advent and Christmas season, and I am always a little sad to pack up the decorations. I so enjoy the lights on the outside of the house, our lighted Christmas star and tree, and the general cheer of Christmas decorations.

I've enjoyed reading other bloggers' end-of-year and/or New Year's posts, and although I probably won't write one of those since I'm too much a realist for resolutions or personal goals, I should be able to come up with something interesting to write about in the next few weeks.

That Darn Cat

The neighbor's cat and I have been having a bit of a territorial dispute this summer. It thinks it can come into our house, and I say it cannot. I'm not sure which one of us is winning, but judging from the pounding of my heart earlier, she scored one today.

On nice days we like to leave our windows and doors open.  We don't have screens on most of the windows and no screen doors. When the front door is open, it's open wide (and admittedly a bit of a security risk), and our Wintergarten (sunroom) only has big ass big glass sliding doors. When I'm home I tend to leave the Wintergarten door open all the time, especially when I'm working in the garden.

Despite what the cat thinks, this is my house, and I will damn well leave the doors open when I want to. That is not an invitation for the local wildlife to come in for tea. Yes, I have to deal with a few flies, some wasps, and the occasional dragonfly, but thankfully no birds have flown into doors or windows that were open (a few have slammed into ones that were closed with a resounding thud).

A few weeks ago as I was at my computer in the (home) office, I got up to get something to drink and bumped into the cat creeping in through the front door. I was startled, of course, and yelled something like "What the fu...!!" She dashed back out the front door and down our walkway to the street.

Four nights ago I came into the office to shut down the computer before going to bed, and a horrifically enormous large hairy black spider was on the wall in the corner just next to my computer. I let out my spider shout, and my hero came armed with a can of Raid to take care of it. Even he admitted that was the biggest one he's ever seen inside the house. Then I started to wonder where that beast was while I was sitting at my desk earlier that evening... M said it probably came in through the tilted window because it was cold outside that evening, and although I'll go with that, I'm still checking for big spiders under my desk before I sit down.

Then today, again I'm at my laptop researching things to do in Edinburgh for our upcoming trip, and I wanted to check something on the map I'd left in the living room. The front door was closed but the Wintergarten door has been open all day. Out of the corner of my eye I saw something dark and hairy scuttle on the floor, and I freaked out. I'm still on high alert because of the damn spider, after all. This time, as if I should expect a response, I yelled, "What the hell are you doing in this house?!?!?!" as she scrambled on the slippery floor and dashed back out the open door. She was half way out before I knew for sure what/who she was. Thank goodness at least it wasn't a spider.

not the neighbor's cat

The cat in the photo above was another uninvited houseguest at my Schwiegermutter's flat 8 years ago. He climbed up a tree and landed on her second floor balcony, peering in at us through the glass door. We invited him in, and he spent the evening curled up on the sofa after a snack of pork tenderloin (it was all we had). He returned the next night and the next, and we thought he was gorgeous. But that was not my house. And I digress...

In Germany roaming cats have to be tolerated. In our local newspaper just the other day there was a letter in an advice column from someone asking if he can do anything about the neighbor's cat wandering through his yard, pooping in the grass, etc.. Nope. If the cat causes damage to anything (scratches the furniture, damages plants - as if that's easy to prove), then the owner has to pay for it, but otherwise we need to put up with them. Cats go on walkabout and refuse to heed property lines, posted signs, or adages about what curiosity can do to them.

I can live with the cat skulking through our yard (I don't have a choice anyway), and M has to live with cleaning cat poo off the mower blades, but we do not have to accept that or any other cat slithering into our house. But what to do?

Since our nephews came to visit one hot weekend this summer, we now have water pistols, and I know how much cats like water.

With one in each hand, I could go full Tatort mit Til Schweiger on that cat if she enters my house again, but of course that's just wishful thinking. I don't believe in keeping loaded guns in the house and my aim sucks anyway.

So the only thing it seems I can do to keep the neighbor's cat out of our house is to keep the doors closed when I want them open. And that just makes me angry.*


*For the record, I'm not angry at the cat's owner staff; the neighbor is doing nothing wrong, so this will not be a cause of neighborhood strife. I just want to give the cat the message that it is not welome inside our house.

Loving Southern Germany 1: Beautiful Towns

Although I am an expat, I cannot write about culture shock or homesickness. I can't write about missing things like certain foods or conveniences from my passport country. And I can't write about longing to return.

What I can write about is why I love living in southern Germany. I belong here. My soul is completely at rest and at home. I'm filled with gratitude during the simple act of walking to the local butcher or going for a stroll around our 1250-year-old village on a cool summer night (I'm waiting longingly for one of those again!). I wonder sometimes what on earth I ever did to deserve this.

So I've decided to start a series that will explain what I love about living here in the Schwabenland and why I won't ever leave, at least not by choice. The list is long and new reasons pop into my head almost every day. Perhaps this will explain why I am not eager to return to Wisconsin but hoping friends and family will consider planning their next trips to visit me and see this beautiful place.

Where do I begin? How about with the lovely little towns nearby? These towns have been here for hundreds and hundreds of years. Many saw damage from fires that wiped out entire sections of town in the Middle Ages and from bombings in WWII but were rebuilt painstakingly to their former glory, at least in the Altstadt.

Esslingen

The closest many Americans get to Europe is EPCOT at Disney World, but here the half-timbering is real and the houses and churches are hundreds of years older than the United States.

The market squares have served for many generations as gathering places and produce and livestock markets, and the cobblestones - which are still repaired as needed by brick masons - were laid for carts and carriages rather than for cars.

Except for the plastic garbage bins, parked cars, and fashion styles of passers-by, you can walk along streets and alleyways of the Altstadt not just imaging, but seeing what the town looked like in the Middle Ages. Luckily we don't get to smell what it was like on hot summer days back then, when people seldom bathed and chamber pots were emptied out of upper windows onto the streets.

Tübingen

Esslingen and Tübingen are my two favorite towns in the area, and they are so rich with history, intriguing secrets, tales and legends... I learn something new every time I visit, and I have scads of books about them. Other delightful old villages not far from home are:

Nagold

Herrenberg

Rottweil

These are just some of the towns I've explored within the last 3 years since moving here, but there are others I still need to spend more time getting to know: Freiburg, Rottenburg (not the Rothenburg ob der Tauber you're thinking of, but the Rottenburg near Tübingen), Sigmaringen, Ravensburg, Kirchheim, Karlsruhe...

Waldkirch, in the Black Forest

Schwäbisch Hall

When I visit towns here I take a guided tour if I can, but most often I buy a book or pamphlet at the Stadtinfo and set off on a self-guided tour. I read and learn everything I can about the town's history, find the significant buildings, and go into the churches.

Information I expect to learn - and I'm rarely disappointed - includes

• When was the town established?
• How many city fires were there and when were they?
• Is the town Protestant or Catholic?
• What were the effects on the town of the Thirty Years' War (1618-1648)?
• What and where is the oldest building?
• Are there any Stolpersteine here?
• How many old town gates are still standing?

Yep, those are the things that interest me - not where the clothes and shoe shops are. And I will keep returning to the towns near to us until I know them well enough to give at least a mini tour even though few visitors will want to hear as much as I want to learn. That's ok with me, though. I want to learn it for me.

This is the first reason I love living in southern Germany. On any day I have free, I can pick a town and go learn something new. And if I only have a short time free, I can go down into Horb and learn more about my new home town.

Horb

Loving Southern Germany 2: The Landscape
Loving Southern Germany 3: The Food

Returning Home

I returned home last Wednesday after spending 12 days in my passport country with family and friends. I love spending time with "my people," but I do not share the excitement and enthusiasm most other expats feel when they return to their passport countries. Therefore this will not be one of those gushing posts about how great life in America is.

I need to repeat myself so any of "my people" who might read this will hopefully understand - the time I spent with them was fabulous: at my daughter's graduation, the party my parents hosted for her, the leisurely evenings hanging out with my parents, best friend, and one or both children, the afternoon and evening with my son and daughter in Appleton the Saturday before graduation, walking around my parents' neighborhood, playing dominoes and cards, the 24 hours I spent in Fond du Lac with my two best friends and our mini roadtrip around the area, the meals we prepared and the four we went out for... It was quality time with everyone, and I appreciate the time they took off work and out of their routine to spend with me!

The main reason I can't gush about being back in the U.S. is that I don't like myself much when I'm there. I'm irritable and critical, and I say things that are unnecessary. I need to practice keeping my mouth shut and just smiling. Back in high school I learned how quickly people tire of hearing about what things are like in other countries, and these days I am exquisitely happy at home in Germany - so I try not to talk about my life much. I know I fail at that often, but I think I'm getting a little better with each visit. I'm acutely conscious of hearing myself start to say, "In Germany...", and it makes me feel guilty.

I am only fully myself and content when I'm at home with M. When I'm away I miss the rhythm of our rather dull routine. Nowhere else does the bed feel just right, the pillow is fluffy and inviting, the coffee is delicious, the shower is calibrated to my preference, the laundry detergent smells like it should, and the sofa is perfect for a nap. There is nothing wrong with the beds, pillows, coffee, shower, laundry soap or sofas* where I stay in Wisconsin. But it's not home.

*And in fact, my best friend's sofa is MUCH more comfortable than ours!

I remember my mom telling me years ago after one of their two-week trips overseas that she was always glad to return home again, despite having had a really nice trip. While I lived in Wisconsin and only visited Germany once or twice a year, I couldn't understand her. Now I do.

There was one extreme positive I experienced in Wisconsin that had nothing to do with "my people": Driving. It was truly fabulous to be able to get into a car and drive on highways and the freeway (Autobahn) without fearing for my life, holding my breath every time an oncoming car or truck passed, or suspecting that every curve meant some oncoming fool overtaking where he shouldn't and endangering everyone else around him. The streets and lanes are so deliciously wide and the comforting shoulders (Sandstreifen) are there for the using in case of emergency.  Good Lord, the freedom! The lack of stress and tension! Being able to listen to music while driving and sing along rather than only hearing my tinnitus and terrified pounding heart...

Look at this residential street - it's almost twice as wide as
highways in Germany!

Sheboygan Marina

Sheboygan, on the shore of Lake Michigan
Photo credit: M

My parents' neighborhood - huge houses and yards the size of small parks.
I walked the circle several times a day but rarely saw anyone outside
except those who were mowing or watering plants.
Photo Credit: M

The weather was beautiful the whole time I was there, we had delicious meals, several of which were childhood favorites of mine (Sloppy Joes, homemade Spaghetti, grilled beef tenderloin), there was a lot of time for relaxing and shopping for cheap affordable clothing, and I ate so much string cheese and squeaky cheese curds that my digestive system didn't right itself until about three days after I returned. 

There was much to enjoy and appreciate when I wasn't irritating myself by being someone I don't like, but nothing more than the people with whom I spent my time. I don't know when I'll be back, but it may be a while. I'm now looking forward to some of "my people" visiting us here in Germany, though that means they have to leave their homes and the places they are most comfortable.

It was a nice visit, a very special occasion, and I am also glad to be home.