A Few Closing Thoughts (alternate title: The Grand Finale)

I feel as though a closing post, a "bookend" of sorts, is in order as I conclude these posts on my travels. 

First of all, I must say how extremely grateful I am for my time overseas, for the family that made it possible, for the beds that were given up for us to sleep on, the meals paid for even when we attempted to pay for them ourselves. I am nothing but thankful to have had this opportunity to spend overseas, and I'm especially thankful to have my Mother, who ran my baking business seamlessly in my absence along with keeping her many other responsibilities as a homeschooling Mother with eight children. When it comes down to it, she is the reason why I was even able to go on this trip.

One thing I realized about traveling is that you really can't see it all and do everything once you arrive in your location of choice, be it Germany or Europe or somewhere else. One cannot possibly do everything or see everything, and if you try, you're sure to drive yourself crazy, and, just like the clocks they sell around the area I visited, you will undoubtedly go cuckoo. Trying to "do it all" for the sake of doing it all will have that kind of effect. This can apply to other areas of life as well. 

(plane view of southern Germany) 

Namely, why is it that we grab for what we do not have while ignoring the many blessings which we already possess? Instead of chasing the "next thing" in life, always looking for more, how about we simply pause and be thankful? 

As such, I want to make the best of and the most of my time, wherever I might happen to be. I strive to uphold this principle, which is, in the words of Jim Elliot- 

"Wherever you are, be all there."

And I am. Haven't always been, but I am. I want to always live in that manner, no matter if I am at home, working on the farm, or traveling to a new place or culture as I did recently.

After all, the Enemy does not wish us to live this way. He wishes us to be discontent, living life in halves due to fear and worry.

"The thief does not come except to steal, and to kill, and to destroy..." There is plenty of that being exemplified in our culture today. But thankfully, there is someone who wishes to help us live this life we have on earth to the full:  "....I have come that they may have life, and that they may have it more abundantly." (John 10:10) More abundantly. I don't know about you, but that's the way that I would like to live.  Eph. 5:15-16 comes to mind when I think about spending every moment well: "See then that you walk circumspectly, not as fools but as wise, redeeming the time, because the days are evil. Therefore do not be unwise, but understand what the will of the Lord is." (church, Esslingen-am-Neckar) And what is that "will?"  To love God, love People, and make Disciples. "....to do justly, love mercy, and walk humbly with your God." (Flower boxes, Tübingen)

For many reasons, some personal, this trip was very therapeutic for me. I believe it grew me in different ways and also taught me some things that I am now taking to heart. It also made me aware of some things and attitudes about myself that are most clearly seen when you are taken outside out of your normal routine or "rut," so to speak.

(Yours truly on climbing wall, Köln)

When you get well outside your usual routine and mode of operation, it's almost as if the fog and shortsightedness that can sometimes surround our doings as individuals has lifted, and the patterns of behavior one has been unconsciously operating under are suddenly made clear. The dross rises to the surface, and then the changes can be made.

I feel so blessed to have had this amazing experience and to be able to share the written account here on my blog. For my part, I have certainly enjoyed writing and compiling the posts, even though there were a couple times I didn't think I'd be able to continue my writing streak due to one factor or another. 

It's true that I definitely had my fair share of late-nights spent lying in bed, typing up posts. But looking back, those late nights and the work that comes with putting things into words was absolutely worth it. I now have a detailed record of my time so that I won't soon forget my experiences for years to come.

(Church, Tübingen)

And all I have left to say is:

"The LORD has done great things for us, And we are glad." (Psalm 126:3)

Travel Home to NC: Stuttgart-->Atlanta-->Charlotte-->Farm!

Today, I was running on about 5 hours of sleep. As much as I tried to get to bed early last night, it just didn't happen, too much packing and such to accomplish.

After hugging all the kids and saying our goodbyes to Arnheidur before they left for school, George drove Rachel and I down the Autobahn one last time, to the Stuttgart airport.

The path to get on the plane for our Atlanta leg of the journey was a process and we kinda thought we weren't going to make it at first. The lines to check in a bag were absurdly long, not to mention the security check. However, it was nice that they do not do x-Ray screening on everyone here in Europe (unless the detector goes off.)

And of course, I totally forgot about the small jar of honey I had stowed away for my Father. Apparently, thick creamed honey is considered a liquid. Whatever. At least I have my little single serve packs for him to try.

It wouldn't have been so bad if the security guy hadn't enjoyed teasing me about it. I had used my line about having two sisters and five brothers back home.

"Aber Sie haben fünf brüder!"

"Who will feed them?"

"I think he was flirting with you, just a little bit." said Aunt Rachel. 

(Sometimes I have trouble telling when people are flirting.)

"But he's old-ish, and that's creepy!"

This same chap tried to take Aunt Rachel's extra collapsible cane because it might be "used as a weapon." 

"Oh, you mean like this? *WHACK*

Thankfull she did not take my advice, listed above. We may not have made it home.

;)

Next, my laptop, my phone and yours truly had to walk all the way to this shady back room to be swabbed with strip of what appeared to be paper by a Polizei dude. (I was not swabbed, but I wouldn't have put that entirely out of the question. Anything is possible.) 

Though I really have no right to complain, because my bag (and Rachel's too) were not overweight, and the main thing that I was concerned about- letting my super cool yet rather big Deuter backpack pass for a "purse"- ended up being nothing to worry about. They let it on.

I think it was because I said "yes ma'am" to the check in lady and perhaps she thought that was cute. 

Do you recall the flirty Amsterdam border guard? No? Well, you can read about him. 

Apparently, the stamp that he put on my passport was so very wobbly that the Germany border guards had trouble reading my date of departure. Thanks buddy.

Since we boarded the flight rather late, and with me carrying all but one bag of luggage, and then the luggage struggling to fit in the overhead, let's just say that by the time I got to my seat I was just DONE. And still thinking about the jar of honey I had to leave. Oh well. Thank goodness they didn't bat an eye at my seventy bars of chocolate.

To set the mood, I plugged in my long-dormant "folksy/bluegrass/country" playlist on Spotify, clicked shuffle, and the first song I got was Charlie Daniels playing "South's Gonna Do It Again."

The guy I ended up sitting next to on the plane was reading a civil war history book and so I figured we'd get along just swimmingly. He kept very much to himself and went from book to movie to snack to movie to sleep.

I looked over the middle aisle to see Rachel sitting next to man with a little girl chattering away on his lap. When the flight time is nine hours, I think that I got the better end of the deal with Mr. Keep-To-Himself. I don't like sitting next to "talkers" on long flights, so this suited me just fine.

It was a very clear day and as such, when we took off, one could see all the way back to the airport and took the all too familiar route that most over seas flights go, over Schönaich and Böblingen and Esslingen and Sindelfingen and Vahlingen and all the other towns I know so well. 

You know you are flying high when you can see planes flying below you. Yeesh. We flew over some of Switzerland and France, which did not have the red and orange roofs I have become accustomed to. Spain's cities look like ugly glittering-grey gashes in the earth when seen from above. I also saw plenty of ocean, which, on a clear day, is almost indistinguishable from the sky.

During the nine hours, when we weren't eating the surprisingly good food served to us, I watched the Imitation Game (BENEDICT!!) and Unbroken (thankfully they had the edited version of that last one.) I have read the novel that inspired Unbroken, and the only thing I didn't like about the movie adaptation of was that in my opinion, it didn't give proper credit to his faith and his journey to the Lord after the war was over, but other than that, I thought it fantastic.

I also watched Cinderella, the new one with Lily Jones, along with Cate Blanchett as the stepmother, and Helena Bonham Carter as the fairy godmother. Cute adaptation, and I do love a good happy ending. Well, I take that back. I like either happy ending stories or tragic/depressing story endings. 

The movies helped keep my mind off the slowly creeping plane icon on the modem that tells you just how far you have left to go (longer than you might wish.)

Then we had a rather frustrating time at ATL airport. Frustrating would be an understatement.

Our layover was so short that when I realized the time we had left before our next flight's take off, I had no idea how we'd manage to make it through customs, immigration, picking up our checked baggage AND get done with the second security check.

The wheelchair that was supposed to expedite the process was AWOL, and so Aunt Rachel had to walk all over tarnation with no assistance. By the time we got through all the aforementioned hoopla and found a wheelchair that I could push for her, I rushed like a madwoman through the airport only to arrive at the gate minutes after they closed the flight. We (well, especially me) were very frustrated at this point. How on earth does one manage to get through all necessary checkpoints within such a narrow time frame? Why even put that time on the ticket, if it can't happen?

Thankfully, a Delta flight going to Charlotte was leaving in an hour, so we were transferred to that one. 

By the time we got on that plane I was covered in sweat and we were worn out, but so happy to be finally headed back to Carolina.

At the time, it was extremely frustrating, but looking back, it's rather comical, the two of us rushing around the Atlanta airport on a Monday afternoon, with our poor biological clocks set at approx. 10 PM Germany time.

I had prepared myself for the inevitable reverse culture shock, and it may sound ridiculous, but one of the first things I thought was "wow, everything is written in English! No more constant decoding/ code cracking." Well yeah, no joke, it is America after all. Already said "Danke" and "Entschuldigung" by mistake.

Let me tell you, it is one of the best feelings in the whole world to see your Mom waiting expectantly for you at Baggage Claim. I waved to her and then ran up for a big ol' hug.

Having our checked luggage safely in hand, we headed to the van. Can I say how HUMONGOUS it looks to my eyes, which are conditioned to seeing small cars and minivans? 

We ate at Jason's Deli together and we enjoyed talking about the trip and what I missed on the home front, along with what's going on at home.

Mother drove part of the way home and then I did the rest. I walked in to a flurry of hugs and banners and FLOWERS and wild blueberries picked especially for me. I felt so loved, and I'm so grateful to be home! I missed everyone so much. Will blog my closing thoughts tomorrow.

Last Day in Germany: Rope Course and Zipline in Herrenberg, Evening and Dinner in Tübingen

Aunt Rachel and I began to pack up camp shortly after waking up this morning.

Scrimping for space in suitcases is our speciality, and I plan to leave no nook or cranny unused in mine, and I have my brand new backpack to use as my "purse."

By some miracle, all of my chocolate was able to fit in my carry on bag. If they give me any problems as to the (relatively obscene) amount I am bringing back, I just have this to say, Mr. German TSA guy:

"Ich habe zwei schwestern und fünf brüder bei Mir zuhause."

Or I'll just say:

"Pick your favorite and let me by, sonny!"

(Only, please do not take the dunkel vollnuss. Ich mag dieses art die beste.) 

Ok. Clearly I'm getting sidetracked here. I'm going to need to find someone to speak German with when I get home.

There were pancakes to be had this morning. 

"Oh no, don't get my underwear in the picture!!"

"Eh, I can crop it out, no problem. But it still doesn't change the fact you sleep in your underwear."

*giggles ensued*

However, for some reason, I felt like eating fish. I am one of those weird people who don't limit breakfast to "breakfast-y items" such as bread and cereal and such. I hadn't said anything, and Arnheidur must have read my mind, because she offered me some smoked trout I have yet to taste, fished from the lake near her family home all the way back in Iceland. It was gooooood. Oh man. 

Along with some sauerkraut, tomatoes, and butter on a pretzel and I'm good to go.

And go we did. But not before we got coffee and I got an espresso....with a scoop of ice cream. They don't do ice in coffee and thus, the ice cream. Arnheidur had the idea and got it for me. Great idea.

We drove a ways through the beautiful sunny countryside to what had vaguely been described to as a "park" of some sort, but to our surprise, it was a full-on ropes course, filled with treacherous courses and phobia-inducing runs full of tricky footwork. Not to mention the zip lines and other balance courses which were, all in all, enough to last much more than the three hours allotted to each group.

But boy, did we ever have us a good time. Embla and I did every course save one, and some multiple times. 

We didn't get many pictures because we were too busy jumping off of posts and flying through the wilderness, but we did get this picture, just go document how reediculous our outfits looked.

There was even a little course for Erla to do.

At this place, before you get started, they have you a required course how to safely clip yourself on and off each run. Once you are done with training, you are on your own and from then on out, you are the one solely responsible for clipping on and off the courses safely. 

In the states, they would never EVER EVER allow you to be this responsible, but here, things are different. One fella supervised the whole place, and he was rarely called upon to assist. It would appear that since they both teach you carefully, and then give you the full responsibility, the rest seems to take care of itself. I will admit more than once double or triple checking my line, wondering if I didn't have it wrong before I put my whole body weight on the two skinny lines of rope and then zoomed away, thirty feet off the ground.

I climbed to the top of one very, very tall tree on a skinny ladder and realized I was in the location of the free fall. 

When you have to clip yourself in a complicated manner onto a ring that looks entirely too small to hold your bulk in preparation to jump straight down fifty some feet below you before, if all goes well, the line catches you and you float to the ground, you must get it right 100% the first time.

I saw the instructions on how to clip in first in German, and then, to my relief, English. Even so, I still wasn't sure if I got it right and called down to the helper dude who looked to be a very small ant below me, and he could tell from the ground I had it on correctly.

I mean, it's all well and fine if you don't understand all of what you are ordering from a German menu and you end up getting Head Cheese or something instead, but this right here is CRUCIAL to get the English/German translation correct.

Of course I jumped.

Would do it again. It is just what I imagined jumping out of a ten story window would feel like.

We were all pretty hungry and worn out but we stopped in Tübingen for dinner, which was a lovely town about a half hour away from Schönaich. 

(Typical driving view, as seen from the backseat)

It was a picture perfect, quaint German town and a lovely place to spend the evening.

ARCHITECTURE! 

Of course, I couldn't have my last night in Germany without some traditional  Maultaschen, aka German "ravioli," which is what I ended up getting. (Mit Ei)

I also ate some of Embla's "pancake soup," which is like a savory pancake in chicken broth with seasoning.

I should also show you Spätzle, which is handmade pasta that is served all over Schwabia and beyond.

The drive home was lovely.

(But what do you expect? It's Germany!)

We had a slice of two of Arnheidur's banana cake when we got home and then Racel and I finished packing. Sleep is next. My biological clock, which is a very well-adjusted to Euro time, is getting ready to be all shaken up again tomorrow. We fly out for Atlanta and will be back in good ol' NC by Monday evening. I have some things to say as well as closing thoughts as I wrap this trip up, so look for those coming soon. Was going to post those tonight but we were having too much fun in Tübingen, ya know. :)

Last Saturday in Germany: Recycle Center and Soccer Tournament

With it being a Saturday, we were able to sleep in somewhat before I visited a place I have yet to visit here in Germany- the Trash Dump. Yep.

"why the dickens does she want to talk about TRASH of all things?"

Well, because it was definitely a different experience.

Since it was raining (and I didn't want a sign in flashing lights above my head that says "TOURIST") I have no photos of the place, but think of it as a regular looking recycle place except for the sorting is very precise indeed. 

You bring your pre-sorted bags of trash and throw the items, one by one, into their respective bins-brown, white and green glass, aluminum, cardboard, paper, and plastic. There is not a bottle of scrap of cardboard out of place, and the long fluorescent bulbs are stacked neatly in a pile. Some Germans even clean out and dry each bottle before bringing it to the recycle center in their reusable tote bag. I had heard tell of this, and today I did witness a lady with bottles that looked so clean you could probably drink right out of them.

You can tell a lot about a person about what they throw away, and the sure sign that an American has been in the vicinity is the sighting of exclusively American products, such as such as bottles of Propel water, Doritos bags, Tide Cartons, etc.

Based on that criteria, it would appear that there are precious little Americans that use this particular dump, and as I tossed Ellert's Propel bottle into the plastic bottle bin, I left my mark, saying "American was here."

It's almost fun, a sorting game, and the glass was particularly fun to dispose of due to the satisfying sound of the bottle smashing as it goes down the chute. 

As I described, everything is organized and regimented and if you decide you want to throw everything away without bothering to sort it, it costs €7.50 for putting trash in the mixed trash bin (also known as the lazy man's trash bin) 

George took us to the PX exchange so that Aunt Rachel could get some ornaments she wanted to take back home. I browsed around the clothes section, marveling at how it's already the time of year for Fourth of July decorations and then we both went to the Starbucks in the food court area.

The ice in my iced tea from Starbucks broke my "ice fast," as I haven't even touched ice since I left DC almost four weeks ago. It's just the way they do drinks here in Europe, cold, with no ice. (and I say "Europe" because I know it's basically the same across the board. They are ice-prejudiced. Or perhaps they are simply trying to avoid confusion, because "Eis" (pronounced: ice) is the term for Ice Cream in at least two popular European languages. So if you ask for ice in your water, you will probably get some weird looks.

We drove to the soccer field to meet up with the entourage of Germans from our village who were headed with their boys to the soccer tournament. I also saw the first pickup truck I have seen in four weeks which was driven, of all people, by an Italian guy whose son also plays for Schönaich. It feels like everyone drives a sports car or sedan here, and when I saw the truck I realized I hadn't seen one in ages.

Soccer is a big deal here, as I have said several times before, and these boys take their soccer very seriously. We all went to the outdoor soccer complex about 30 minutes away that had five fields, a cafe that sells items such as butterbretzels and hamburgers and pommes and .05€ sour belts. It was quite the setup.

We spent the whole of the afternoon sitting out near the field and watching all the various teams play, tournament style. 

Ellert  in his warm-up suit

Being all cute for the Paparazzi (aka me)

The team in action. Also featuring half-naked Erla in playing in the foreground.

I got myself a butterbretzel, which is a giant German style pretzel, split and filled with butter. The pretzels here are unlike any I've ever had before, soft on the bottom, and thin and crisped on the top where the pretzel is twisted.

Apfelschorle is the drink of choice for the soccer watchers. It's sparkling mineral water mixed with half Apple juice. And not just any apple juice, the German kind, which is generally unpasteurized and is extremely flavorful. 

It was a special treat and quite the experience to be able to attend the tournament and to watch Ellert play. Though it rained for a spell, we were well armed with umbrellas and suffered little damage to life, limb or spirits.

Though we came close to suffering at least a little damage to life and limb. 

 

I was showing a video of the game to Arnheidur and Ellert when all of a sudden, I felt a gigantic "THWACK" on my face and jaw and all was black for a few seconds, as my reflexes must have caused me to shut my eyes, hard. It hurt, like someone had abruptly punched me in be jaw, but it startled me more than anything. As you might have guessed, an AWOL soccer ball had come out of nowhere and ricocheted off the three of us just like a pinball machine. Ellert appeared to be the worst affected out of the three of us, but when one takes into account his considerable skills in the area of acting (see: The Stomachache Story) it is somewhat doubtful it hurt as badly as he portrayed. He was surprised to hear that I got hit as well, because I didn't react much. I explained to him that just because I wasn't rolling around on the floor *hint hint* didn't mean I hadn't gotten hurt too. 

However, I wasn't going to allow a trivial little thing such as getting hit in the face with a ball ruin my day.

I sat with Embla and we people watched, talked, played with the soccer ball a little bit, and I even taught her how to polka.

"Would you rather- marry the richest man in the world or the best looking?"

"Oh wow."

"Wow what?"

"that little boy over there just cussed really bad in German. Gosh, I hope his coach doesn't hear that." 

"Truth or Dare?"

"Dare."

"I dare you to walk past those people with a soccer ball under your shirt to look like a pregnant lady. Except you are....a twelve year old."

We tried to cheer like proper ladies for the players but ended up getting pretty animated nonetheless. She did the Icelandic, for only Ellert's ears to understand, and I did German. And a few southern slang in there too for good measure.

"Hraðer, Ellert!"

"SCHNELLER! SCHNELLER!"

"Lauf, lauf, lauf!"

"Run y'all! Get 'em round the front! round the front!"

"Ja! Ja Ellert! Super."

His tournament ended up coming in 4th place out of 10 teams, and we were very proud of his performance.

(The lovely view from the parking lot of the soccer complex)

We ate dinner together at the same restaurant that we ate the day after arriving in Germany, Sulzbachtal.

The weather the past few days has been the best we've had on our entire trip, and the sunset was lovely tonight. As we drove home, the clouds were pink with the setting sun and the country landscape and waving fields of rye were beautiful in the evening light. 

My mind has gone back to travel-mode and I started packing in earnest this morning, since we travel back to the U.S. on Monday. People have asked, "are you ready to go home?"

Well, yes and no.

Perhaps I will write my closing thoughts about my trip in a later blog post, but I shall leave you with this for now. It is somewhat of a paradox, as part of me is ready to go home, to get back to the normal rhythm of the family life and the farm life that the Lord has blessed me with for the time being. However, at the same time, I know that I could be fairly easily persuaded not to leave this beautiful and fascinating country, with its history, distinctive culture, and, of course, its immaculate Trash Dumps. 

Can't forget that.

;)

Ritter Sport Schokoshop, Family Picture, Army Retirement Ceremony, Fist Bump from the Boss, and Dinner in Reichenbach

I had a dream partially in German last night. It was so strange! I suppose it is a sign of my immersion in the language, even though I can't understand all of what is spoken by locals, at least now I have been exposed to the language so much so that it pervades even my dreams. 

A haircut has the magical power to transform a boy who cares practically nothing about the care and keeping of his hair into a boy that styles his hair with a whole lot of care. 

And as such, it just might get him to take a shower more often. 

(Don't tell him I said that!)

In other important news, the entirety of my chocolate fit in the carry on bag with room to spare. And all the people said "amen." 

After breakfast, Rachel and I went back to the Ritter Sport factory to buy some more chocolate (Like we need any more!) But thus far I have more room than I anticipated, and as such, I got more of my favorite flavors at the unheard of price of .69€

Schokoshop!

(Schokoshop and Museum, as seen from outside.)

So far, my favorites are the dunkel (dark) with hazelnuts and the Edel Bitter. Those other two I got just because they looked interesting.

We drove back to the mall at Böblingen, where there were three items I was interested in purchasing.

My buying personality for most things is as follows: see item, pick up and inspect item, think about item, go home, consider item more for approx 9.5 days, if still desirous of item, go and buy item.

And I like to think I would make a good German shopper, as they have a similar philosophy as mine. They aren't much for window shopping, from what I have observed, and they tend to be "on a mission" and only go into a store or a mall if they actually need of something there. They are not "touchy," and don't feel and handle things like American shoppers do. A phrase I have had to learn and use frequently is "just looking, thank you." If you are a German store owner and someone comes into your store, you're assuming they are there for a reason, not just looking around for fun.

Today I went in and got my three things- a dress and shirt from H&M, and my brand new German-designed Deuter backpack that I cannot wait to use. 

We found the German equivalent of a Claire's accessory store (only better quality here) and spent some time in there.

"You should wear big glamorous things."

....said Aunt Rachel as she tried on some super cool sunglasses. They went so well with her complexion she ended up buying them.

She told me I should get these:

...buf I said they were a leeetle too Rapper-ish for me.

Our errands finished, we picked up Embla and after getting the rest of the crew, drove to Patch for the family portrait with Rachel that was planned. She wanted to get a portrait done of her with all of George's family, and so I stood in the back and snuck candid photos while the professional snapped his.

Good lookin' family!

And now, for something completely different: an Army Retirement Ceremony. We tagged along with George to the retirement party of one of his friends.

There were no photos allowed during the service, but I managed this one before.

The chaplain prayed over the service, 

then the USMC Brigadier General David Ottignion gave a speech on behalf of the retiree.

Then the man himself have a speech of thanks, to his co workers, to the Lord for protection through his three tours in Iraq, and most of all, to his wife, who was in attendance along with his two girls. He said a few words of thanks to his girls and his wife before honoring each of them with their own bouquet of flowers.

"Of all the things I have done in life, the best thing I've done was to marry my wife."

The integral part that an army wife plays in her husband's work was wonderfully displayed. The wife was given a special letter and diploma of thanks from the same General that gave her husband his diploma of retirement. It thanked her for being supportive and holding down the home front while her husband served his country well. It reminded me of the Proverbs 31 woman- "the heart of her husband doth safely trust in her."

It also showed the team work required of the different branches of the military, since there were various representatives of the Navy, Marines, Air Force, and of course, the Army that were all present for this retirement ceremony.

All in all, I was very honored to get witness this special ceremony. It might sound appallingly cliche, but it truly did my heart good.

After singing the Army song, the ceremony ended and the reception began. We were able to meet George's co-worker who lives with his wife and three children a half hour away from Patch.

We were also introduced to the boss-man's boss from EUCOM (aka: George's boss) an African American guy.

When he found out I lived on a farm and had my own baking business: 

"Girl, no way! You know, you need to bake us something before you leave. That's what they like around here."

Then, this boss-man of George's branch of EUCOM gave me a fist bump. Not too shabby.

With the kids at home with a sitter, Rachel, Arnheidur and I left to go visit Bernie and Fritz at their house in Hotchdorf, near Esslingen, the village where we ate breakfast last Sunday.

After taking a tour of their lovely home, which was no only beautifully crafted inside, but had an amazing view to boot, we rode to nearby village of Reichenbach for a dinner I believe was one of the best I have had here in Germany. 

(der GrillTeller)

George joined us from work and we spent the evening with Bernie and Fritz. We were in stitches hearing the tales of their life in a small village, and the details of how Bernie and Fritz met and dated. 

We had a lovely visit, and didn't want to leave when the time came. Then it was home, and bed. (But not before safely sequestering my newly purchased chocolate in the suitcase.) 

;)