Meeting the Macs

Grady and I are back from our day of adventures in the greater Zurich area. His vet appointment went well, and Grady got lots of treats from the cookie jar. The vet was not surprised to see that Grady is still limping, and suspects that he will always have a bit of a limp and will need to be on medication for the rest of his life. UGH. Why didn't I sign up for pet insurance??

Afterward, we drove to a quaint little Dorf (village) not far from Zurich to visit with Ms. Mac! After reading each other's blogs for a year now, it was about time that we met in person. What a special treat to meet her 3 boys as well. I think each one of them asked me separately something like "Are you one of Mom's blogging friends?" Once when I responded "Yes, how did you know?", I was told (by James, I think) "Because you don't sound Swiss". Well, that's for sure. I asked the boys if they could guess where I was from, and then, what they thought of my American accent, sweet little Ewan said "It sounds like you're drunk on helium!" Oh, how precious!! Why is it that we always think the other person's way of speaking English is much better than our own? Scottish and Australian, what a great mix you have in the Mac household!

So we had a fun visit, a good Swiss lunch, and I came home with a new friend, lots of trashy American and Australian magazines, and two highly anticipated TV shows on DVD: Lost and Six Feet Under. I see a couch potato weekend in my future...

When the days get shorter

It's not even 8:00 PM and I just realized that I already need to close all the shades in our house. UGH. And when I walk Grady just before 7:00 every morning it's still dark out! UGH again. It's almost time to hibernate.

Make new friends...

Remember that song from when we were kids? "Make new friends, but keep the old, one is silver and the other gold..." That's what came into my mind as I started this post. For some reason lately I seem to be making lots of new friends. I'm thrilled about this. For quite a while after moving to Basel I felt like I met a lot of nice people, but none of them were really the type of people I'd love to hang out with on a regular basis. A coffee from time to time, but that's about it. At some point I realized (and accepted) that there was really no way to replicate all the amazing friendships I have back in the US. But considering how much I miss my friends at home (in DC, in Wisconsin, in other various parts of the country and the world) I really wanted to find some new friends whose company I really enjoy. Then, all of a sudden, I realize that I have it! I feel truly blessed to have met some really great women in Basel (all expats, of course) who I connect well with and who are fun to hang out with. I got together with a new American friend today and we had a great time. It's weird, but sometimes it feels like I'm going on a blind date when I get together with a new friend. We meet for coffee, or lunch, or a walk, and then, if it goes well we continue the "date" and go shopping or something. Later, Kirk will ask about it and say something like "So, did you like her?"

I'm going on another blind date of sorts tomorrow. But not really, because I feel like I already know her! I'll be getting together with Ms. Mac, who up until now we've only known through the blogging world. I have to take Grady to visit his surgeon in Zurich for a follow-up appointment tomorrow, and afterward we'll drive over to Ms. Mac's village outside of Zurich for lunch and a chat (and maybe a walk if Grady's up for it). I'm very excited about my trip to Zurich, and about the chance to meet yet another Swiss expat blogger in person.

As for the "old" friends, we're super excited that some of our DC friends are coming to visit us in Basel next week! Pete and Zoe and baby Abby are arriving on Thursday and I'm really looking forward to being able to show them around Basel and take them on a couple day trips while we're here. We miss our DC friends so much and it will be great to have a little bit of our home life right here in Basel.

Don't give me any static

One of the things I don't like about winter is when the air gets really dry and you end up zapping yourself when you touch anything metallic...but after reading about this guy I may not ever complain about that phenomenon again.

WOOHOO!!!

Last night my pitiful San Diego Padres clinched the National League West title (for local readers, that would be baseball). They may be on the verge of being the worst division-winning team of all time, but it doesn't matter because they're going to the playoffs! Of course I'll miss every minute of it, but at least I can try to follow it online from afar...

Procrastination

Doing our taxes was especially painful this year since it was our first year living overseas, renting our house out, etc. As a matter of fact, we just got around to mailing them this week. Yesterday I called our HR department with a question about taxes, and she asked if I was referring to our Basel taxes. I had to sheepishly admit that since I just finished my US taxes, I hadn't gotten around to completing my Basel taxes, to which she said "you know they're due by Friday, right?". Uh, yeah...I knew that. Sure I did. So last night I had the fun of trying to fill out our local tax form, which is naturally available only in German. The funny thing is that we're actually exempt from most local taxes (which goes over really well with locals and tax-paying expat friends alike), but we still have to dutifully fill out the forms. And unlike many of our fellow expat friends, we're not reimbursed for having an accountant complete our taxes. So that gives us two choices: pony up lots of francs for an accountant to complete forms that ultimately say we owe minimal taxes (thereby defeating the purpose of having a tax break), or try to fill out forms that we don't remotely understand and risk screwing them up royally. Naturally, I opted for the latter option. I just can't help but think that the local tax collectors are going to have a good laugh when they receive our forms, and that we're not going to have such a good laugh when they come looking for us because we filled them out wrong...

Oops

There's nothing like posting something that you think is interesting...only to discover that your wife posted more or less the exact same thing the week before. I can plead that I was still in Amsterdam for work when she posted it, but I don't blame her if she files it away with all the times she's tried to tell me something, only to finish with "you haven't heard a word I just said, have you?" (Truth be told, usually when it seems like I haven't been listening I actually have been paying attention in my own way, but in this case I'm guilty as charged!)

Learn something new every day...

Yesterday there was a big election in Switzerland. As I understand it, the vote was to apply the same immigration rules to the new EU countries in Eastern Europe that currently apply to the original EU countries (Switzerland is not an EU member...it's the hole in the middle of the map of Europe). Evidently failure to approve this measure could have resulted in a number of existing treaties between Switzerland the EU to be cancelled, which could be disastrous for a small land-locked country that relies on trade. So it was good news (at least from this non-citizen's perspective) that the measure passed by a higher-than-expected margin.

But that's just part of the story. When I went to the swissinfo site to learn more, I was surprised to see a headline asking "Will foreign prostitutes flood Switzerland?" This was not only interesting because we were just in Amsterdam, where Gretchen bombarded me with questions about the Red Light District that I couldn't answer, but also because the article talks about the number of registered prostitutes in Switzerland. I had no idea they could register, which seems to imply that the world's oldest profession is legal here...go figure.

A good weekend

I tried to post this several times yesterday, but for some reason Blogger wasn't letting me download pictures. So here it is... a day late...

It was one of those beautiful fall weekends in Basel. Cool in the mornings, sunny and warm (but not humid) during the day, and everywhere we went it seemed everyone was out enjoying the weather. On Saturday, we drove up to an area in the Alsace called Viel Armand where you can find the Hartmannswillerkopf National Memorial and Battlefield. I've never been a big history buff, but you can't help but be fascinated by this place. The cemetary and the memorial contain the remains of over 12,000 French soldiers, and beyond that, you can hike through the woods and find dozens of old WWI trenches. I didn't really know what to expect when Kirk said we might see trenches... would it just be ditches dug into the woods? These structures were unbelievable. They were stone and brick with steel reinforcements and if either of us were more comfortable being inside tunnel-like structures I'm sure we could have explored for hours. Here I am walking down into one of the trenches.



After hiking around a bit, we came across some beautiful viewpoints overlooking the valleys of the Alsace. We were in the Vosges mountain range, which our German landlord pronounces as the "Vo-Jesus". That always makes us laugh.



We also made it over to the local Kürbis Fest this weekend. It's held at a farm not far from our house. It was one of those special only-in-Switzerland events that I love. During the Fest, not only do they sell lots of varieties of pumpkins from the Kürbis Markt, but hundreds of people (I'm not exaggerating) were there to try the homemade Kürbissuppe and Kürbiskuchen. The soup was delicious and I plan to try making some later today. I didn't try any cake, however, because the line was too long for me. Check out the big vat of soup!



Even the cows had a good time...

No wonder I feel at home here

I was reading ESPN's The Sports Guy's predictions for this week's NFL games and came across this little gem about my hometown: "Have you ever been to San Diego? That's the most laid-back city in the country--San Diego makes Switzerland look like Compton."

[Perhaps a germ of truth in the assertion that San Diego is supremely laid-back, although having heard Swiss gangsta rap on the radio and been to some of what might constitute rough neighborhoods by Swiss standards, nothing about Switzerland can be compared to Compton, unless comparing it to an upper-middle class white kid listening to NWA's "Straight Outta Compton"...]

Front page news

Only in Switzerland would the top story in the local newspaper (granted, it's a free, somewhat tabloid-like publication) be about how Swiss butchers are upset that the new Miss Switzerland is a vegetarian. In a recent interview, she said that "Ich werde nie eine Bratwurst essen" (I will never eat a bratwurst). Apparently, in Switzerland those are fighting words. Butchers and meatlovers are united in their frustration over her comments. According to one Fleischfreund (literally translated into "friend of meat") who was interviewed for the story, you can tell she's a vegetarian because "sie hat kein Fleisch am Knochen" (she doesn't have any meat on her bones).

Rock me Amadeus

While walking to work, I came across a poster for what will surely be the must-see event of the year: a musical called "Falco Meets Amadeus". I'm sure a toe-tapping good time will be had by all. Alles klar, Herr Kommissar?

Things are getting crazy in Basel

While shopping downtown at Manor today (a big department store with a nice grocery store in the basement) I noticed signs everywhere announcing new store hours. Beginning October 1, they will be open Monday through Friday 8:30 AM to 8:00 PM. This is CRAZY and so exciting. Unless you've lived in Switzerland you have no idea how big of a deal it is that a big department store will be open until 8:00 PM every night. 6:30 PM is standard closing time for all stores, except for crazy Thursday when you can shop until 9:00 PM. Now, if only stores started opening on Sunday...

Bergen

Pretty soon we'll shut up about Norway, but if you ever have a chance to visit, our advice would be to skip Oslo and head to Bergen instead. There's nothing really wrong with Oslo--it's a perfectly pleasant place, but as a friend who was just there put it, even though it has all the ingredients for a great city, it's just missing a certain something. In some ways it was the opposite of Copenhagen, which we thought was much greater than the sum of its parts. It doesn't help that the Oslo airport is almost 45 minutes outside the city (if you're familiar with DC, it makes Dulles Airport seem close). Since we did two overnights in Oslo, that was a lot of time and money spent just going back and forth to and from the airport.

Bergen, however, was great. Not only is it a physically beautiful city in a great setting on the water--it reminded us of a smaller Seattle or San Francisco--but it also has more energy than you would expect for a city that size. We thought it might be too touristy for our sake, and while tourism is prevalent, we were also pleased to find that it was a vibrant city in its own right with good restaurants, bars, shops, etc., that seemed to be filled more with locals than tourists. Plus, it's a great launching point for seeing the fjords in western Norway. Two big thumbs up.

Animals

In addition to our run-ins with cows in Norway (not only did we spot them trying to use the public toilets, but when we went for a hike in Flåm, a bunch of cows came running over and followed us as we walked along the fence...they were smaller than Swiss cows and didn't wear bells, but they were charming nonetheless), we also had at least one run-in with sheep. It seemed like every time we turned a corner there would be another field filled with sheep contentedly grazing and baaaing (or maaaing, as they say here). We must have seen thousands of them. I don't know why, but I just find sheep to be inherently funny. At one point we were driving through the mountains. We were above the timber line where it was barren, cold, windy, rainy and generally inhospitable, when we came across four sheep just standing in the middle of the road. Unfortunately we didn't have our camera ready, but after we came to a stop, all four simultaneously turned and faced us. There we were in the middle of nowhere, the sheep staring at us in silence, and us staring back at the sheep wondering if they were ever going to let us pass, when all of a sudden all four turned and started sprinting. Let me tell you, a sheep running at full speed down a wet and curvy mountain road is not exactly the picture of grace. After a while, they just bounded off the side of the road and let us get by (Gretchen was afraid they were going to tumble down the mountain, but I figure they knew what they were doing.)

Furniture

Traveling around Norway sometimes felt like we were traveling through an Ikea catalog. For example, on a day when we rented a car, we drove through the following towns, any one of which could also be the name for an Ikea end table or sofa (and this is just a sample): Dragsvik, Hella, Vangsnes, Øksdal, Vik, Skorge, Njøs, Fardal, Sogndal, Bjørk, Fjærland, Bøyum, Skei, Ålhus, Moskog, Vikja, Mjell, Sværen. (And for pure adolescent fun, we also stopped at a waterfall called Likhole.)

Simple things

One of the areas where we're lucky is that I don't think either of us are extravagant shoppers. Sure, I give Gretchen a hard time about buying shoes, but the fact is she usually gets more pleasure out of finding a good sale than buying an expensive brand name, so I really can't complain. Take last week's holiday. Since Gretchen had a few hours layover in Amsterdam, she took the train back to Haarlem just to buy an 8 euro beaded necklace she saw in the window of a closed shop that she had to have--and I think finding it made her as happy as almost anything else on the trip. I'll take that over shopping for diamonds any day.

As for me, I only had one shopping goal for the trip. It's perhaps a bit juvenile, but I really wanted to find an official Norwegian football (soccer) team jersey. Norway is pretty patriotic and soccer seems to be popular, so you think you'd find them anywhere, right? Wrong. I tried both sport and souvenir shops in Oslo with no luck, and by the time someone told me I would have to go to a particular football supporters' shop, it was time to go to the airport. Luckily when we were in Bergen we found a shop that sold jerseys, although even then we had to go way to the back of the store to find them tucked away in a corner. I was really expecting to find them in every store, but I guess they have different ideas about merchandising in Norway than in the States. The bottom line is that while I'm not sure when I'll wear it--and Gretchen will almost certainly ridicule me whenever I do--I finally got my jersey. (Who knows, maybe if they qualify for the World Cup--which is in Germany next summer--perhaps I can score some tickets and put my jersey to get use. It really is the little things in life that make me happy...

Pork chops

My Mom used to make these really good breaded pork chops. She learned how to make them from Oma, my Dad's Mom, who was a really good cook (especially when it came to German food). I always think of breaded pork chops (with potatoes and sauerkraut) as good comfort food. I bought a couple pork chops this afternoon because Manor had them on Angebot (sale) and they looked good. The problem is that I haven't made breaded pork chops in quite a while, and I can't remember exactly how my Mom used to make them. And, of course, I can't call her like I used to do everytime I had a cooking question. (Side story: She always loved my cooking question phone calls and used to tell her friends that I would call and ask things like "Mom, how long do I bake a potato?" Just for the record, I never had to ask that one.)

The point is this. If your parents-- or other family members-- have a favorite recipe or way of cooking something that you really love, write it down now! Don't wait until it's too late. You just never know when you want to eat breaded pork chops.

Excuse me, where's the bathroom?

This had to be one of the funniest things I've seen in a long time. We were driving around near the glacier just north of the town of Mundal/Fjaerland in Norway, and we came across a whole herd of cows wandering through a parking area near some hiking trails. I have no idea why these cows were waiting by the toilets, other than perhaps they were trying to seek shelter from the pouring rain.



After a good laugh, we drove around a bit, passed by the cows again, and noticed that only one lingered at the bathroom door. We also noticed that someone left a few cow pies behind...

There's no place like home

As much as I generally enjoy travelling, after spending 3 nights in Haarlem, 1 in Oslo, 3 in Balestrand, 2 in Bergen, another 1 in Oslo, and 2 in Amsterdam, all without ever unpacking my suitcase, I think I enjoyed sleeping in my own bed last night more than I ever have before...

It's that time again

It's election season once again. Here in Europe everyone is talking about the uncertainty following the recent elections in Germany. It's all a bit confusing to me, but I like the conversations about all the different coalitions that are possible. My favorite (not based on politics, mind you) are the Jamaica coalition and the Ampel coalition which translates into stop light (or traffic light, if that's what you like to call it) because the coalition would be red, yellow, and green. I wonder how the Jamaicans feel about having a coalition of German politicians naming themselves after the colors of the Jamaican flag.

Here in Basel people are getting ready for another referendum day on Sunday. I don't know much about it, but from what I can tell they'll be voting on a proposal to allow more Eastern Europeans to come and work in Switzerland. Those opposed have put together some campaign rhetoric eerily similar to what was used for the "Schengen" vote a few months ago and the anti-immigration vote last year. I saw an full page ad in yesterday's paper that said something like "Today Eastern Europe, tomorrow Turkey". Oh, the horror! According to this article, some are also concerned that a "yes" vote will result in more prostitutes in Switzerland.

For me, I'm especially excited about election season because I just got my Virginia absentee ballot in the mail! I had almost forgotten that there's a big gubernatorial race in Virginia this year, so I'll be sure to send my ballot in right away. For our Northern Virginia readers, please fill me in on anything else I need to know about on the ballot (other than voting for a new Governor). The coolest thing about my absentee ballot is that they even included an "I voted" sticker! I love those and I definitely plan to wear my sticker on November 8.

Who are the Barkers?

I noticed yesterday that MTV here is starting to show a new American show (with German subtitles). It's called "Meet the Barkers" or something like that. Who are they and is it any good? I'm always up for a new American reality show...

Sign, sign, everywhere a sign

While not nearly as spectacular and prosaic as the fjords, we also saw a few funny signs, etc., while on our vacation. I don't know what a "Snuffel Markt" is, but (a) I like how it sounds and (b) it reminded me of Snuffleupagus, one of my favorite Sesame Street characters when I was a kid:



Amsterdam is one of those rare cities where a sign like this would be needed, although it would be interesting to see how many people actually choose not to puke there because of the sign:



Just in case you don't know how to push the button to cross the street, in the Netherlands they make it quite clear:



Finally, Gretchen didn't necessarily agree, but when I saw this in Norway I thought it could be interpreted as "no jumping your motorcycle over a car":

A day on a boat

One of my favorite things about Norway is that there is water everywhere, and thus, there are lots and lots of boats. I especially loved all the big ferries, which kind of reminded me of the ferries around the San Juan Islands/Seattle area and around Sydney. Traveling on ferries is very cool. While in Balestrand, which is on one of the big fjords in Norway, we spent a day on boat. It was a beautiful, sunny day, and the views throughout the fjord were spectacular. Here we are on the ferry dock behind our hotel just before boarding the boat. We've gotten quite good at self-portraits.



Like I said, the views were spectacular.



There were waterfalls everwhere.



We cruised past lots of tiny little villages like this one, called Undredal (population 130 plus a lot of goats and sheep).



Here's my boy, braving the cold for a photo. Don't be deceived by the sun... it was cold out there on the deck of the boat!

Back in the swing of things

I'm back from our lovely vacation in Norway. Kirk now has a few days of meetings Amsterdam so I returned solo last night. I got home at 6:30 pm, and by 7:30 was downtown for my book club meeting. That's what I call getting back in the swing of things! Our final night in Norway, while talking about our vacation over dinner along the harbor in Oslo, we came to the following conclusions.

1. We like Norway. We would like to see more of Norway, especially the north country. Next time we would skip Oslo and spend more time in the fjords. The natural beauty along the fjords cannot be compared-- except perhaps to the Swiss Alps. Oslo is a nice city, but it doesn't have nearly as much charm as Bergen.

2. Norway is expensive. We thought Switzerland was expensive, but nothing compares to Norway. Even a small bottle of water in a convenience store costs a couple dollars. On the flip side, however, we were thrilled that virtually every restaurant served us a FREE pitcher of ice water with our meals! That would never happen in Switzerland. Fortunately the conversion rate was complicated enough that we were able to stop ourselves from comparing prices constantly.

3. Norwary is cold, even in September. My fleece was not enough! I happened to buy a new winter coat in Songdal which came in very handy throughout the week, especially when we woke up to 2 degrees (35 in Fahrenheit) in Balestrand and noticed a light dusting of fresh snow in the mountains above us!

4. Kirk's cell phone should be turned off on vacation. Next time we take vacation I opt for someplace where we don't even have cell phone access so that important people who want my husband to write important speeches will have to ask some other very capable person to help.

As for book club, last night we discussed Small Island by Andrea Levy. I really enjoyed it, as did everyone else at our meeting last night. I definitely recommend it. Next up we're turning to a nonfiction book called Blink by Malcom Gladwell. I think I'll go downtown this afternoon to see if I can find it at one of the bookstores selling English books. Our next meeting isn't until November, but I've made the mistake before of waiting too long to try and find a book club book!

More Norway pictures to come!

She's a trooper

Gretchen knows that part of the deal of traveling with me on work trips is that I unfortunately have to, well...work. So, while she would prefer it if I could play more, she understands that sometimes I instead have to sit in the hotel room and work instead. Vacation, however, is usually sacrosanct. On Friday, however, as our ferry was pulling into Bergen (a fantastic city, by the way), I got a text message on my mobile phone with a pressing work question. Next thing you know, I was committed to deliver something by tomorrow morning. Granted, today is the last day of our vacation, we're already getting into the vacation-is-over mode, and I didn't do any work on Friday or Saturday, but it still sucks to spend the last afternoon of holiday holed up in a hotel room writing a speech for someone when I could be out playing instead. So I have to give Gretchen credit for not getting too angry with me (or at least not expressing it too strongly...although when I got the message on Friday I think she was ready to open a can of whup-ass on the person who contacted me) and instead jumping on the subway and going out to see the Holmenkollen ski museum and ski jump outside of town. For the next holiday we're definitely going somewhere my mobile phone won't work...

Speaking of Gretchen, she liked Bergen so much that when we went hiking on Mount Fløyen, she quite literally became a tree-hugger:

"Someday we'll find it, the rainbow connection..."

[Note: The title is a reference to a Kermit the Frog song from The Muppet Movie, not an ode to gay rights...not that there's anything wrong with that.]

One of the things that has amazed us about Norway is that everywhere we've been, we've seen rainbows, as if things weren't beautiful enough already. (I suppose that's the glass-half-full way of saying it's rained a lot.) I'm not sure whether or not they show up in these pictures, but just in case, this is one over a river above Fjærland another from the dock next to our hotel in Balestrand.

My people

This morning we arrived in Bergen and discovered that our hotel has free WiFi access. All you need to do is enter your room number and last name and you're in. So I tried it and got a message that my name didn't match my room. I called downstairs to see what the problem was and she asked me to spell my last name, which starts with an O. As soon as I began, she said "oh, your name begins with an Ø [which is sort of pronounced "oo", but with some strange tongue contortions]...why don't you enter Ø instead." When I couldn't figure out how to do that, they had to go in and change my name in their system to de-Norwegianise it. At least I didn't also have to enter an å...

Land of the fjords

So, Norway is freakin' beautiful. We'll have much more to say when we get back, no doubt, but suffice it to say we've endured torrential rains (at least two people have told us it was the remnants of Hurricane Katrina, which I find hard to believe but makes for a good story nonetheless), chilly weather (current temp 46F at 5:00pm), travel fiascoes, wayward sheep, loud Spaniards, a near-bout with motion sickness, and prices that make Switzerland seem like a bargain...and it's been totally worth it. The scenery here is stunning, and despite the bad weather the sun was luckily out for most of the day today...we can only imagine how nice it must be during the long days of summer. And no, I'm not just saying that because of my Norwegian heritage. To get a taste, these are two views from our balcony:

Haarlem nights

We've had a really nice weekend here in the Amsterdam area. After coming up (oddly enough, on the same flight as The Big Finn), we got to our dump of a hotel in neighboring Haarlem. It turns out there's a big trade show in Amsterdam this weekend (as evidenced by the large number of middle-aged men wearing name tags and either suits or khakis and golf shirts), so there were no rooms to be found in the city. After the initial shock of a stuffy room (smoking, despite requesting non-smoking) with peeling wallpaper, stains on most surfaces (including the bedspread) and loud kids partying outside, we were very pleasantly surprised by Haarlem. It's only 15 minutes by train from Amsterdam, but it's self-contained in the middle of the countryside and sort of feels like Amsterdam on sedatives. Quite charming, but with a much more local feel and quieter pace. We've enjoyed our forays into Amsterdam (Indonesian food...yummy), about which more when we return, but we also have to give a big thumbs-up to Haarlem as well. Now tomorrow after work it's off to Norway to discover my roots and touch a fjord...

Do blondes really have more fun?

I guess I'll be fitting in very well in Norway now that I'm blonde. I went for a haircut yesterday and also got some "highlights". I think the colorist went a bit overboard (that's an understatement). I suppose it looks OK, and she actually did a good job, but I don't think I've ever been so blonde in my life. I tried to take a self-portrait so I could post a picture, but after trying about 10 times and having to delete each one because they were such bad pictures I gave up. I'm sure we'll have lots of Norway pictures to post here in a couple weeks, so stay tuned for me and my blondeness!

Packing my fleece

It's almost time for vacation! And I don't want to hear anything from any of you who think my whole life in Basel is a vacation... I need a vacation just as much as the next guy. Actually, Kirk is really the one who needs a vacation, considering he hasn't taken any time off since our trip to Italy in April. We'll spend the weekend in Amsterdam because Kirk has a meeting there on Monday, and then we'll fly up to Norway where we'll spend a week getting in touch with Kirk's Nordic heritage. I really don't know much about Norway, other than there's a lot of water and I always love being near water so I'm sure it'll be a good vacation. Growing up as a Lutheran in Wisconsin my only brush with Norwegian culture is eating Lutefisk and Lefse at church. Actually, I never tried the Lutefisk, but you always knew when the church ladies were making it because it stunk up the whole building.

Perhaps one of the most exciting things about going to Norway is that I'll be packing my fleece! Don't get me wrong-- I love the sun, I love beach vacations, and I'm sorry that summer's almost over. But there's something really fun about being able to wear my favorite purple fleece from REI. I bought it just before we got married (that means it's lasted 7 years!) and wore it almost every day on our honeymoon. We didn't have the traditional beach resort honeymoon. Instead we went to Seattle and the San Juan Islands and enjoyed some beautiful, crisp, October fleece-wearing weather. The forecast for the part of Norway we'll be visiting next week calls for highs in the 50s and lows in the 40s (or even the high 30s!), which a chance of rain every day. Now that I think about it, I guess I should pack some gloves as well.

Grady's story

For those of you who think we already post too much about our dog, then you can quit reading right now, because this one is all about Grady. It occurred to me the other day that, while we often talk about Grady, most people don't really know his story. He's had quite a sordid history that's worth sharing. This is Grady's story.

We adopted him when he was 3 years old from the US Customs Service. He had been a training program to be a drug sniffer at a facility about an hour outside of Washington. He didn't make the cut and was on "giveaway row". I'm serious, that's what they call it. To be nice, some places call these dogs "career change" dogs, but really, he was considered a failure in their program. People often say to us: "If you adopted him from a training program, he must be well-trained!" No. That was the problem. He wasn't trainable, so they gave him away. In fact, he was considered too wild, too distracted, and uninterested in working. Leave it to us to adopt a dog like that. What were we thinking?

Prior to that, Grady was also in a training program in Michigan called Paws with a Cause, which trains dogs to assist disabled people. I love helper dogs. I have such admiration for them, and for the people who they accompany. What a gift. We don't know much about his history at Paws with a Cause, but I can say with confidence that there is NO WAY Grady could be a helper dog. He would definitely lead someone into traffic. Presumably he also failed out of their program because the Customs Service "rescued" him and took him to Front Royal, Virginia.

And then, along came Kirk and Gretchen. We brought him home in November 1999, a year after getting married and 6 months after buying our house in Arlington. We came up with the name "Grady" the night we brought him home because a book that Kirk was reading the time had a character (a cowboy) named Grady. Talk about an identity crisis. This dog previously had two names: Trey and Viggor. What kind of names are those? Terrible and mean, if you ask me.

The reason I was reminded of this story is because I recently found his Customs Service record as I was digging through the "Grady file" (yes, he has his own file in the filing cabinet) to get vaccination records for our vet. Among all the medical records we got from the Customs Service, there's a piece of paper titled "Washback/Elimination of Dog", and then a written description of why the dog is being rejected. I hadn't read it in years, and after reading it I didn't know whether to laugh-- because it SO accurately describes Grady-- or to cry-- because it made me sad that he performed so poorly in their program. Here it is.

"Canine Viggor has shown poor intent and interest throughout the first 6 weeks of training. While conducting exercises in building interior, basic packaging, luggage and passenger screening, canine Viggor has shown no desire to search. Canine Viggor would distract while conducting the exercises described above by odors other than the narcotic odor. Canine Viggor would show the same amount of interest in these odors as he would the narcotic odor. This canine does not search continuously and fails to examine areas even though specifically directed. Viggor is constatnly influenced by distracting factors and displays equal interest in these distractions. Canine Viggor's interest is also poor due to the fact that he examines and then leaves the place of concealment without responding further. Remedial exercises were conducte in all the above areas with no sign of improvement."

The bottom line is this: he didn't want to work, he just wanted to play! Kind of like me! I'm so glad we found each other so that we could give him a good home and he could bring us so much love and laughter.

Katrina

I know it's not nearly as fun as reading pithy (and sometimes not-so-pithy) anecdotes about our life in sunny Switzerland, so I'll chill out on the post-Katrina postings. But before I do so, let me post two final things: first, if true I find this to be incredibly disturbing (but not the least bit surprising); and second, just when you think there can't possibly be humor in certain situations, leave it to The Onion to push the envelope (usually with success) for a laugh. OK, no more political stuff for a while. Maybe.

Never on Tuesday

I can admit when I'm wrong. I don't always like to, but I can do it. I have to admit that last night Kirk was right about something, and I was a brat. After dinner, he suggested to me that perhaps Tuesday night wasn't the best night to make fish because Tuesday is trash day and now we'll have stinky fish garbage in the house until the next trash day (Friday). Even though he said so in the most respectful way, I had just finished cooking dinner and didn't like being questioned on my decision to pick up some Loup de Mer at Geant earlier in the day. My very bratty response, also said respectfully, of course, was that when he decided to cook dinner for me he could decide what night to make fish. Ouch. This morning when I got up I realized the whole house still smelled like fish. I love fish, but I don't like the smell to linger. So Kirk was right, and next time I'll pick a different night to cook fish (eg. the night before trash day). My only saving grace is that I baked a delicious Three Berry Butter Cake this morning so thankfully the house now smells of cake! By the way, the fish also tasted good, so I suggest this new recipe I found last night.

Reminder of home

Other than the aftermath of Katrina, the big in Washington these days seems to be the passing away of US Supreme Court Chief Justice William Rehnquist. Don't worry, I'm not going to get all political (despite the implications of the potential remaking of the Court)...this is all about us! You see, the Chief Justice attended our Lutheran church back home. I'm not going to drop names and say we knew him, because other than shaking hands and exchanging "Peace be with you" occasionally during services, I don't think we ever spoke (although I will say his demeanor was pretty down to earth--you would never imagine that he was one of the most powerful men in the nation). The reason we're thinking about this isn't so much because of him, although we certainly feel for his family, but rather because it turns out our Pastor, who is as fine a person as you'll ever meet--and whose sermons we miss, even though they were often way too long--led the service today. Gretchen was looking at pictures on the Washington Post and all of a sudden there was Pastor Evans. This is him (along with our Associate Pastor) doing a reading for the family and the other Justices at the Supreme Court this morning:

Bracing for a Fall

It seems like every year there comes a time in late summer where autumn is all of a sudden in the air. To me it's not a matter of temperature so much as a change in the sky--all of a sudden the light seems to be somehow filtered, even on a warm day. The past few days have been like that despite being really clear and warm, which means cooler weather is probably just around the corner (cooler, that is, than the strange cold spell we had in August)...

Why, oh why?

Good questions from the Washington Post...

Kürbis!

A true sign that fall is coming... Kürbis!



Yesterday, while on a bike ride, I stopped by the neighborhood Kürbis Markt, which is at a farm not too far away from our house. A Kürbis is a pumpkin, but not just like the pumpkins we have at home. Here there seem to be hundreds of varieties of pumpkins and squash, and I have no idea what you would do with all of them.



These are called "Turkish Turbans" (at least that's what the Swiss call them).



Here are some that look a bit more like home.



They also have some lovely cows at this farm. I've chatted with them before when they're out grazing in the fields, but yesterday they were having a snack inside the barn.

Back to school

All the kids in Basel have gone back to school. All the kids in the US have gone back to school (at least those I know). Now it's my turn. After a wonderful Sommerpause, I have my first German lesson in 2 months this morning. Over the summer, our teacher had suggested that we get caught up in our workbook, which meant both of us (me and my friend/German partner Sabrina) had several chapters of work to do. And we had 2 months to do it. But, just like typical students, we both waited until this past weekend to get started! We had a "study date" over lunch on Friday to try and get started, but of course we chatted more than we studied. Needless to say, I spent much of yesterday doing German exercises in my workbook. Regardless of how little studying we do, our German teacher seems to love us and always tells us we're her best students. She often talks of how she wants me to continue my German lessons and get "certified" (whatever that means) after returning to DC. How do I explain... so sorry, but German language skills will likely not improve my job prospects upon returning to Washington. Today will be our first lesson since learning that Kirk's contract was extended and we're staying another year. Before she gets all worked up about how I can keep taking German for another year, etc., we're going to propose to her that we switch to just one morning a week (rather than 2). That should help decrease the rate of burnout on my part. Perhaps I'll look into joining a conversation group as well if I feel one lesson a week isn't enough.

Sadly true

This was the headline from one of the local tabloids that greeted me when I stopped into a newsstand this morning to buy my weekend IHT:

DC/NYC

It was really great to get back to the States last week. I don't think I'd been back to DC since December or New York since January, so even though three days was much too quick, it was great to have at least a little time to catch up with friends and family between meetings. I got to see Grady's best friend Porter (with Spahr):


I had yummy Indian takeout with friends (Pete, Dave and Sonali, with Spahr in the background and Zoe and Megan not in the picture):


I met Pete & Zoe's new baby, Abby (and in case you're wondering, the look of abject terror on my face at the prospect of holding a baby was a joke. Mostly.):


Then, when I got to NYC, I got to spend an evening with my brother Derek, his wife Elizabeth, and my little nephew Lemuel:


He seemed to like the little fishing toy I brought him, although I suppose like most kids his age the key was that it had pieces he could put in his mouth:


It's a bummer we so rarely get to see him since we don't want him to grow up not knowing us, but he's a great little kid and cute too:


I'm kicking myself for not staying longer, but it just makes we want to return sometime this fall/winter when we can spend more time and not have to fit it around work meetings.

Breaking the silence

It's been mighty quiet around the blog the past few days. Truth be told, a lot of that has to do with what's been happening post-Katrina. Unlike so many who have been affected (e.g., send good thoughts/vibes/prayers/karma/etc to local expat/blogger Dictator Princess), we have no real connections to that region (unless you count Gretchen's adoration/worship of Brett Favre, her family's frequent vacations along the Gulf Coast during her childhood, or their condo on the Florida Panhandle that was more or less destroyed by Hurricane Ivan last year), but the whole thing has nevertheless been so upsetting on so many levels that it's been hard to get motivated to blog. It is just inconceivable that in this day and age, one of the best-known cities in the wealthiest country in the world can be allowed to descend into chaos and squalor like a scene from Lord of the Flies as the world watches and NOTHING happens. (And who knows what's happening outside of New Orleans...while the pictures from there have obviously dominated the news coverage, a huge swath of that region has been destroyed, and presumably aid to the rest of the region has been as slow in coming as it has to New Orleans.) When I was watching coverage from the States during the first couple of days I was irritated with reporters who were chasing down well-intentioned but clearly overmatched local officials and police officers to find out why more wasn't being done. I mean, with a storm this size, there are limits to what could be done, especially early on. But as the days went by and things actually seemed to be getting worse rather than better, I found myself getting angrier and angrier that such a thing could happen. I've always felt--and maybe this comes from growing up in California, where natural disasters arrive with some regularity--that one of the true strengths of America is its capacity to respond to a crisis. We may do silly things like build cities in flood zones and along earthquake faults, but when the chips are down, we come together and are able to throw massive human and financial resources into recovery. It's hard to say that these days. So this has been one of those weeks where I'm almost ashamed to be an American, and (although my intent was not to get too political) certainly embarrassed to have a president and administration that are either (a) utterly incompetent, clueless and asleep at the switch; (b) willfully slow to react because the folks stuck in New Orleans are probably not major Republican voters and donors; or (c) both. (I'll give the benefit of the doubt and lean toward (a)...it's kind of sad that incompetence is the most generous explanation.) We've been tested, and so far we've failed. Miserably.

My English lesson

From time to time, while living in Basel, I get the opportunity to learn some new words and good expressions in the "other" English. With so many Brits living here, not to mention all the English speakers from Ireland, Scotland, South Africa, Australia, and New Zealand, I'm often amazed at how different one language can be. Yesterday I added a new word to my vocabulary.

I was joining a group of ladies to go on an afternoon walk. It was put together through the "spouses" group through Kirk's office. Sometimes I just laugh at the fact that I'm now part of a spouses group. Doesn't that just sound funny? Anyway, we walked from Riehen, along the Wiese (a small river that runs into the Rhine), through the little zoo at Lange Erlen, and ended up having a beer at the cafe at the Dreilandereck (a place along the Rhine where the 3 countries come together). It was a beautiful day for a walk and it's always nice to meet a few new people on these walks. As I was waiting for the tram out to Riehen, I was chatting with the woman who organized the group. She had a last minute change in plans and wasn't able to join us on the walk. I mentioned that I wasn't really sure I was in the mood for a long walk, because it was hot, and my legs were tired from a long bike ride the day before, and I was just generally feeling lazy, but that I would go because I had committed to going and I really like the woman who would be our guide for the walk and I didn't want to let her down. In response, the organizing woman (who happens to be British) said in her very charming British accent: "Well, aren't you just such a good poppet". She said it again a couple minutes later, and I finally told her I had never heard of that word and had no idea what she was saying. She described "poppet" as someone who is sweet and reliable, similar to a little candy called a poppet (also which I've never heard of). So in case any of you are wondering, I'm a poppet.