Einen guten Rutsch!

Happy New Year to all--or as they say here (in the title of this post), "a good slide"! We were lucky if we made it to midnight in recent years even before Baby came along, so I'm quite certain that tonight the only way we'll be awake to usher in the new year is if: (a) Baby wakes up crying (which is a distinct possibility these days), or (b) the fireworks drive Grady nuts and he starts barking uncontrollably...

How things change

One of the things I feared about having a child was getting sick (and not just my phobia of vomit, although we've heard stories in that regard from friends of ours over their holiday that have given me chills). I used to catch a lot of colds, but after moving from New York to DC I started to be much more careful about washing my hands frequently and I found myself getting sick much less frequently (it probably helped not to be riding the crowded New York subway every day as well). Of course I'd still get sick from time to time, but it's amazing how much better it was when I tried to avoid contact with people who were sick and regularly washed my hands during the day.

Fast forward to the present, and all of a sudden I'm back in the germ zone again and there's no way out. Baby came down with a cold in Venice, and oddly enough I found that it's not really possible to avoid Baby when she's sick, nor does washing hands help when she is coughing and sneezing directly in your face. I can already tell that from now on we can pretty much wager on exactly when we'll catch what she's got (it took me about 5 days in this particular case). I really thought I would have to fight the desire to keep my distance, but I guess some sort of parental instinct kicked in where I actually wanted to cuddle her even when she was coughing in my face, wiping snot on my shoulder, etc. Ah, parenthood...

Another reason to love the internet

One of the little toys Baby likes to play with is an elephant, and for some reason when I started showing it to her a random song called "Nellie the Elephant" that I used to hear on 91X in San Diego back in the '80s popped into my head. The only problem is that I didn't really know the words, but within minutes not only could I google the lyrics so I could sing it to Baby properly (turns out it's an old childrens' song redone as a punk song by the Toy Dolls), but I could even purchase the song courtesy of iTunes. I swear, I don't know how I got through the first 25-30 years of my life without the internet...

We can't drive 35

It's a good thing I got my Swiss driver's license when I did, because at the current pace at which we're accumulating speeding tickets, the local authorities might start having second thoughts. I think we've gotten at least 3-4 tickets in the past few months.

The biggest challenge seems to be that residential streets have a speed limit of 30kph, which is about 18mph. Since the Swiss always subtract 5kph off of your speeding ticket, the de facto limit is 35kph, or around 21mph. That's not a problem on ordinary residential streets like ours, but the problem is that it can include larger streets that go through residential areas, including the main streets into and out of our neighborhood. You have no idea how slow 35kph is until you try it on a relatively busy through-street. I seem to be physically incabable of going that slow, which is a problem since the local authorities seem to have caught on to the idea of using speed cameras hidden in parked cars. Luckily most of our speeding tickets have been for going around 37kph, so once they subtract 5kph it's only 2kph over the speed limit and the resulting fine is low enough to be more a nuisance than anything else. But after having a pretty clean driving record back home, it's a bit disconcerting that we might soon be Public Enemy Number One on Swiss roads if we keep up the current pace.

Yesterday in the mail we got a familiar-looking letter from the Basel police. Gretchen could barely contain her glee that I had another speeding ticket, especially since she's constantly warning me about the 30kph zones (she was the first to get a ticket there--and an expensive one at that--so she's fairly paranoid). Imagine both of our surprise when we discovered that it was indeed a speeding ticket in a 30kph zone...but when we looked at the time and date and did the math it turned out the culprit was none other than Gretchen (and in a delicious irony, it happened on the stretch of road where she nags me the most about slowing down). Busted!

Impeccable timing

When traveling, Baby has an uncanny knack for needing to eat (not to mention pooping, which is a whole other story) in the least convenient of circumstances. Sure enough, she kept the streak up on this trip--I wonder if someday she'll appreciate that she was breastfed inside the Doge's Palace and on a gondola? (Fear not, the photos are G-rated.)

Separation anxiety

While in Venice we experienced a genuine Memorable Travel Moment, which fortunately had a good ending. On Christmas Day the buses (which, in Venice, means the boats) were running sporadically, so when one came as we were coming up to the nearest stop, we raced to catch it. There were just two problems: (1) I was carrying Baby while Gretchen was carrying all of her stuff; and (2) we took separate routes to board the boat. I got on with Baby and assumed Gretchen was nearby, but as the boat pulled away we saw her still standing at the dock with a horrified look on her face. Luckily we were at least able to call out to each other to meet at the hotel, which everyone else on the boat seemed to get a kick out of. Despite being prone to angst, I was remarkably calm about the whole thing and Baby and I enjoyed the leisurely ride back. We decided to wait at the dock for Gretchen, who finally arrived 10 minutes later on the next bus/boat--it's probably a maternal thing, but let's just say that her ride back was anything but leisurely. In the end we found each other and mother and Baby had a tearful reunion, so all's well that ends well...

Bambina! Bellissima!

Just in case we didn't make this clear earlier, everyone with a baby should travel to Italy at least once. At several of the restaurants we ate at, the waiter would pick Baby up and walk her around (men gushed just as much as women), or would have the whole kitchen staff come out to to see her. While walking around the Doge's Palace, we must have had at least five guards come up to us and start complimenting her in Italian. At breakfast every morning in the hotel we would look forward to seeing Roberta and Lucia, who would not only gush about Baby, but would even sing songs to her. It's like the anti-Switzerland in that regard (usually we're made to feel self-conscious for bringing Baby out in public here, whereas in our two trips to Italy most of the time we have been quite literally welcomed with open arms).

Venice, again

(Just in case it's not apparent from this post, we went WAY overboard taking pictures on this trip...)

There were a few things we didn't like about Venice--the thousands of pigeons (although we got our revenge when we accidentally ran one over with our stroller in St Mark's Square), the high prices, the hordes of tourists (many of them feeding the pigeons) in certain parts of the city--but there was much more that we did like. So what did we like about it?

The beautiful golden mosaics inside St Mark's Basilica...



...along with the adjacent Doge's Palace (even if we couldn't take a tour because of Baby so our knowledge of what we saw inside was limited to a vague understanding of what a "doge" was)...



...the obligatory gondola ride...



...five days of crisp but stunningly clear weather (in the distance we could even see the snow-capped Alps or Dolomites--we weren't sure which they were)...



...the little Christmas market with lame crafts but excellent cheeses and meats...



...the location of our hotel on the Grand Canal (our balcony was above the two windows in the upper right corner of the facade)...



...water everywhere, typically lined with graceful and/or decrepit old buildings...



...and the total lack of cars--there are literally NO cars whatsoever and everything is done by boat or on foot (we would see the laundry boat pull up to the hotel, for example, or the food delivery boat).

Venice

More later, but suffice it to say that Venice may be touristy and cliched and overpriced and impossible to navigate with a stroller (all of those countless bridges over the canals consist of steps rather than gentle slopes--it's like the anti-Amsterdam in that regard)...but we absolutely loved it. I would never want to go during a peak tourist time (like, say, from March to October or during Carnevale), but we would absolutely recommend it to almost everyone (NOTABLE EXCEPTIONS: those who need a wheelchair or crutches to get around, or those who are prone to seasickness--it's almost impossible to visit Venice without ending up on a boat at least once) during less crowded times of the year.

Nächster Halt: Venedig

After a travel hiatus to concentrate on Baby's sleeping schedule, we're jumping back in the saddle (or in the plane, as the case may be) with a trip to Venice. We decided not to exchange gifts this Christmas, and instead to splurge on a nice hotel and hopefully some good Italian food (not to mention as much gelato as humanly possible). We're hoping Baby's present to us is that her tooth will feel better and she'll sleep as normally as possible. We've never been to Venice and haven't had time to do much research, but everyone says it's one of those places you have to see in your lifetime, preferably not during the hot and crowded summer, so it should be fun and hopefully relaxing. Hopefully our camera batteries will function this time around also.

The only strange thing is that since we're not going to be home for Christmas, we decided not to decorate the house or buy a Christmas tree or do any of the usual things that make it feel like the holiday season. At least I picked up a pine bough from a local Christmas tree seller to have some piney-fresh scent in the house, and Gretchen got out some of our old favorite Christmas CDs, but all things considered it hasn't sunk in that Christmas is four days away and counting.

Anyway, we'll probably be offline for a few days so in the meantime we hope everyone has a Merry Christmas, a Happy Hanukkah, or whatever other holidays you might be celebrating. Buon Natale!

It's all good

Sometimes in life you have one of those days/weeks where things don't work out the way you'd hoped or planned, and you find yourself feeling down in the dumps...where even though you know deep down inside that this too shall pass and indeed may even have a silver lining, you still feel like you've been punched in the gut...where uncertainty just gives rise to even more uncertainty.

Then you come home at the end of the day and your little baby girl gives you a big smile and maybe even a giggle (even though she's been cranky all day) and reaches out for you to hold her, and at least for that fleeting moment nothing else matters. It's just you and your smiling daughter and your beautiful wife who is weary but happy that you're home to give her a break, and all's right with the world.

Never mind that three minutes later the moment has passed and she's fussing again and reaching back for mom because a tooth is coming in and she's tired and hasn't pooped all day and your landlord is calling you for the third time that day to tell you the same meaningless information and you realise you forgot to pick up a bottle of wine to go with dinner and the dog is barking and the tension in your gut starts creeping back--never mind all that. The initial moment, however short it might be and whatever else follows, sustains you for longer than you ever could have imagined...

Sittin' like a big girl

Here's another "first" for our baby: sitting in a high chair! I tried it for the first time last week at a holiday "spouses" lunch (I'm a spouse of a man who works at an organization that organizes activities for us nonworking spouses). She needed a little extra back support (hence her coat shoved behind her in this picture), but overall she did pretty well and seemed to enjoy having access to everything within her reach on the table! Please take note of the gorgeous dress, sent to us by our friend Stacy, which will be perfect for all our holiday outings.

I guess this means we had better get our act together and buy her a high chair. The timing is perfect for our next big adventure. Next week, after returning from our Christmas trip to Venice, we will start introducing solids into Baby's menu choices. That's my big Christmas present. Hopefully we'll have more success with fruits and veggies than we've had with the bottle! Now I just have to decide what I want to start with. As with everything baby-related, everybody has their own idea of what babies should get first: rice cereal, carrots, pears, bananas, sweet potatoes... the options are endless! Look out, Grady, here comes the good part of having a baby around the house.

Why I love Austria

We've returned from a wonderful weekend in the mountains. I love going to the mountains. No matter the season, no matter the weather, no matter the activity. I just find it so rejuvenating. There is nothing quite like the Alps. Being close to the mountains is something I will really miss when we move back to the DC.

Unfortunately, we didn't ski because: a) we had a baby to care for, and b) there really wasn't much snow. Fortunately, however, we had beautiful sunny skies on Friday and Saturday, and our sweet baby decided to be a sweet baby which restored my confidence in traveling with her. Unfortunately, we had a minor technical difficulty only minutes after arriving. The camera batteries went dead. Fortunately, being his usual organized self, Kirk thought to bring extra batteries, but unfortunately the rechargeable batteries that he had recently charged had lost their charge! Before the camera died I managed to take one picture in St. Anton. After that, we bought a disposable camera at a souvenir shop and took 27 other photos which will soon be developed and will undoubtedly be of a very high quality! So here is the one and only digital photo of our weekend, taken as we walked from our hotel into town. Doesn't it seem that pictures of the Alps often look like postcards?



I spent a semester in Vienna during college, so I have a bit of a fondness for Austria. I love how they greet you with Gruss Gott. I love their Wiener Schnitzel and potato salad. I know that sounds crazy, but somehow they are different than what you get in Switzerland. Until this weekend, I had almost forgotten about my favorite Austrian treat. At bakeries throughout St. Anton I found Topfenstrudel and Topfengolatschen (don't know if I'm spelling that correctly). I have never seen these pastries in Switzerland. Why is that? I don't really even know what "Topfen" is, but it's kind of like a cream cheese filling, sometimes with raisins, and sometimes with a hint of lemon flavor. Does anybody else know what I'm talking about? Yum... delicious...

Topfengolatschen were always my favorite treat while I lived in Vienna. That is why I love Austria.

Let it snow?

So tomorrow we're off bright and early to catch the train to St Anton, Austria for a weekend in the mountains (our first overnight trip since Baby decided to make evenings difficult for us in England). Luckily, despite the recent lack of snow, they got a dusting last weekend so it should at least feel like winter. It doesn't matter that we're not skiing--there's just something rejuvenating about going up to the Alps no matter what you do...

Simple gifts

Today I was the recipient of two special treats:

(1) My official Swiss Führerausweis (drivers license) arrived in the mail. Why, you might ask, am I only now getting a drivers license when I've been here close to three years and am slated to return to the States in a few months? Desperation, pure and simple. My license back home expires at the end of the month, so I figured I'd just renew over the internet like I'd done before. Wrong! Turns out if you renewed over the internet previously, then the next time you actually have to show up in person at your friendly local DMV to renew it again. As much as I would have liked to go home and visit friends, it seemed like a lot of time and money to fly all the way home for such a mundane little task. Luckily the good folks at the local Motorfahrzeugkontrolle very quickly exchanged my US license for a brand spankin' new Swiss one. Wunderbar!

(2) Gretchen and Baby paid a surprise visit to the office at lunchtime, and as if that wasn't nice enough, they also came with birthday cake to share with my colleagues. Since I didn't tell anyone at the office it was my birthday, Gretchen decided to take the opportunity to publicise it for me. I think everyone would have given me a hard time, but since I was giving them cake they went easy on me. And luckily, Baby was in a much better mood than the first time she visited. (And if you're wondering what's in her hands, it's a big foam wedge of cheese that my dear wife brought me from her fair home state.

Hittin' the bottle

If someone were to randomly ask you how babies eat/drink, I'm guessing your answer would be "from a bottle". Because that's what babies do, right? They drink from bottles. Now that I'm a Mom I can correct this statement. True, most babies drink from a bottle, but not all babies. I know this is true, because I have one of those babies. Cute as she may be, she's very stubborn. I know that my Mom is smiling down on us from heaven, having a bit of a chuckle knowing that I'm getting a taste of my own medicine as I was supposedly also a stubborn baby/child. You can keep you comments to yourself about whether this characteristic has carried on into my adulthood...

Let me start off by saying that I feel incredibly fortunate that breastfeeding has worked for me. I know many women who struggle with it. It always seems like the easiest, most natural thing to do, but then when it comes time to actually feed your newborn, it's not always the easiest thing. Sometimes it just doesn't work. I know many women who had to give up and felt tremendous guilt over it. So I'm thankful. As you can see from our HUGE baby, there's no doubt that breastfeeding is working for us.

Early on, I got lots of advice about bottle feeding. Key points went something like this:

--If you ever want to feed your baby with a bottle (even if it's pumped breast milk), be sure to introduce a bottle early so they don't resist it.
--Don't introduce a bottle too early, before successful breastfeeding is established or else your baby may prefer the bottle and have something called "nipple confusion". Seriously, that's what they call it.

Based on these two concepts, I decided to try a bottle at around 6 weeks of age. I went down to the neighborhood Apotheke and rented a state-of-the-art pump (this is common here as an alternative to buying a very expensive machine you will likely use for only a short period of time). Thinking back to that first time we tried a bottle, I was almost hesitant. This is a big move, I thought. She could potentially love the bottle, start to resist taking the breast, and eventually I'll have to stop breastfeeding and switch totally to bottles, etc. Silly me. Baby is now almost 6 month old, and STILL will not take a bottle!

We've tried everything. We've tried different bottles, different nipples, different flow levels. We've tried pumped breast milk and are now trying formula. At least that way I don't feel so angry and frustrated about throwing out the contents of the bottle! We try almost every single day. Kirk has tried. My friends have tried. Grandma Caril tried every day during her visit. But yet she still won't take the bottle.

Did I mention that we have a stubborn baby?!

Did I also mention that because she won't take a bottle I still have never been apart from her for more than a dog walk or a trip to the grocery store?

Yes, it's true. Our baby is almost 6 months old, and Kirk and I have yet to go out on a date night. I've yet to go out with friends. My friends in my Mom's group all went out for a ladies' night last month, and I couldn't go. Bah humbug. I never would have imagined this would be the situation. So many people have offered to babysit. Oh, how I wish I could take them up on the offer!

Still, I will remain persistent. I remain hopeful. Somedays she does drink a little bit of it, and most days she at least allows it in her mouth so she can play with it (leading to the formula dripping out of her mouth and down her chin). I have a feeling that one day, on her own time, she will gulp the whole thing down. She'll do it when she's ready. From what my Mom used to tell me, that's how I was as a child. I decided to do something new on my own time, when I was ready. So now we know that this little girl takes after her mother. Keep your fingers crossed for me!

The big day

Forty years ago today, in a hospital in southern California, a young woman named Caril gave birth to a precious baby boy named Thomas Kirk (later to be known as Kirk). He was exceptionally smart from the start, pensive and studious (as much as a baby can be), with a good share of angst (his caregivers were often concerned about his well-being noting that he liked to draw black pictures of tornadoes as a young child). That baby boy grew up to be my husband, and today he joins the big 4-0 birthday club. While he no longer draws pictures of tornadoes, he's still smart as a whip, and has grown to be very caring and supportive husband, father, brother, son and friend.

I had such good intentions for a big birthday celebration for Kirk this year. I really wanted to do something special for him, so that he could get all the extra attention he deserves (but never seeks). I know, I thought, how about a big party! We never have parties anymore, and this is the perfect occasion to have all our friends over. Oh, but wait... reality check... we have a 5-month old baby who consumes all of my time. How would I ever prepare for, and host, a big party in this disaster of a house that is filled with dog hair and baby toys? On a good night, Kirk is lucky if I'm able to put together an edible dinner for us. Unfortunately, despite the best of intentions, a party was not to be. Instead, Kirk woke up alone in a boring hotel in Frankfurt on his 40th birthday, with little more than a phone call from his wife and baby wishing him Guten Morgen and happy birthday before heading off to his meetings.

While his 40th birthday could rank among the lamest of them all (who wants to be in Frankfurt on his birthday?!), his 40th year could certainly be among the most noteworthy. Here we are, living a very blessed life in Basel, Switzerland, and we've just become parents to the most precious baby girl you ever did see. We've already seen many ways in which Baby takes after her father. Her bright blue, observant eyes constantly scan her surroundings, taking in everything around her. She is often serious and pensive, contemplating the troubles of the world and deciding her next move. And, of course, she's extremely clever. If she grows up to be even half as ambitious, driven, thoughtful, and loving as her father I will be thrilled.

Here he is, the birthday boy (AKA the old man) in a picture capturing a moment I will remember forever, taken just moments after he became a Dad. Happy birthday, Kirk! We love you! Come home soon!

Where does meat grow?

For some reason I've been thinking lately about one of the big differences between living here and back home: how food, and specifically meat, is viewed here. I think I started thinking about this when we were in Strasbourg and passed a foie gras shop featuring this sign with a happy-looking goose (presumably just before it's force-fed and has its fattened liver removed):



At home, if you didn't know better it would be easy to think that meat comes from the supermarket, not the farm. I mean, deep down inside we know that juicy steak came from a cow, but we don't want to be reminded of it. (I'm thinking of signs posted around DC by animal-rights groups that simply emphasize that meat comes from actual animals with actual faces.)

People don't have that detachment here--I guess it's more honest that way. It never ceases to amaze us that the newspapers we get from the supermarkets will have advertisements for veal that show pictures of happy little baby cows...with names, no less. Or take the restaurant today--it's part of a working farm, and you drive right past the cows, bison and pigs as you drive in. Then when you read the menu, they very proudly point out which dishes come from those animals you just passed on the way in (and are almost apologetic about those dishes that aren't from the farm).

And the thing is, they love animals here--cows and sheep are as much a part of the landscape as the Alps or the Rhine. They just don't seem to be as sentimental (or naive or in denial) about them as we squeamish Americans tend to be...

Happy birthday to me

So this week is my birthday, which I normally wouldn't care about but in this case it's kind of a big one--and not necessarily in a good way. Anyway, I will be spending my birthday the way I'm sure everyone would dream of spending their own birthday...in a meeting all day in lovely Frankfurt (with a bunch of economists, just to make it even more fun), followed by a train ride that doesn't get me home until after 9:00pm. Good times! (Truth be told, it's not that we would be able to celebrate even if I was home...Baby's 7:00pm bedtime isn't exactly conducive to a night out on the town.)

So we decided to celebrate early by having a nice lunch today instead. We chose a place called Farnsburg that I had heard of about a half-hour outside of town in the hills, and it was excellent. I had a nice carpaccio of bison followed by monkfish and a dessert of Toblerone mousse and coffee, while Gretchen had a cream of pumpkin soup that was so good she was almost licking the bowl, followed by venison medallions and dessert of apple cake and cappuccino. Everything but the apple cake was great (including some excellent wine selected for us by the chef), there was no smoking until 2:00pm so it was a nice atmosphere, the drive there was gorgeous, no one gave us the stink-eye for bringing Baby, and best of all Baby didn't give them any reason to give us the stink-eye because she was on her very best behavior (and as an added bonus, didn't cry once in the car either way). Highly recommended for fellow Basel folks who want a nicer meal than the usual bratwurst and schnitzel out in the country. All in all, I can't imagine a better way to spend my (almost) birthday!

Curling iron

Tonight Gretchen was feeding Baby, and happened to have the European Curling Championships (live from Basel...the City of Curling!) on the TV. All of a sudden Baby stopped eating and wouldn't take her eyes off the TV. I'm not sure what's more frightening--that Gretchen was watching curling by choice (she would probably say it's only because her favorite German show, Bauer sucht Frau, was unexpected not on), or that Baby was absolutely mesmerized by it...she already digs Baby Einstein DVDs, but maybe we could just let her watch curling instead.

A new hat

How cute is she?!

'Tis the season

The last couple days were the official kick-off to the holiday season in Basel. Rather than having visits from Santa on Christmas like we do in the US, Swiss kids can look forward to seeing Samichlaus (the Swiss version of St Nick) on December 5 and 6. From what I could tell, he was everywhere this week-- including at all the grocery stores around the city! In addition to visiting Samichlaus (or Niggi-Naggi) around town, parents can apparently sign-up to have him come to visit kids in their home (usually accompanied by that bad guy Schmutzli).

I got to witness this first hand yesterday when I was taking Grady and Baby out for an evening walk. I passed a house with red Christmas lights bordering the windows, and about 6 little kids all peering out the front window with great anticipation. Sure enough, only minutes later, Samichlaus walked toward me, wished me a "Guten Abend" (good evening), and rang his bell outside the decorated house. The kids began screeching and giggling and running amok at the sight of Samichlaus. It was so cute.

The other fun tradition of this holiday season in Basel are Grättimaa. Grättimaa are sold at every bakery around town, and they look sort of like a bready gingerbread man covered in sugar crystals. I was so proud of myself yesterday because I remembered to pick up a couple Grättimaa at the store as a treat for Kirk and me. Great minds must think alike. Kirk also brought home a Grättimaa for me (he had already eaten his for an afternoon snack). Unfortunately, my Grättimaa were far inferior to Kirk's. I bought mine at the grocery store (Coop), and he stopped at one of the best bakeries in town (Bachman). I ate the one he bought, and today the other two found their way to the trash bin. Sorry guys! The ones from Coop may have looked more like little people, but they sure didn't taste as good as the funny looking one from Bachman!

Snow job

We have our first (and at this point, only) ski trip of the season planned in less than two weeks, but thanks to the warmest autumn on record, there is currently no snow. None. Nada. With Baby I'm not sure we'd be able to figure out skiing anyway, but this is some seriously bad news for ski resorts...

Separated at birth?

Brilliant

Whatever you think of football/soccer, this is sweet:

Happy family

(It doesn't matter that I take 90% of our photos--Gretchen has a much better eye than I do...)

Baby week in review

So much happened during our week offline...

Baby got a new toy (you can't find these in any of the stores here, but we won an online bid on a Swiss auction site for this exersaucer purchased by a couple who used to live in the States):



The Basel Weinachtsmarkt (Christmas market) opened despite the unseasonably warm weather we've been having:



We took Grandma Caril out for a good stick-to-your-ribs meal of cheese fondue and Wienerschnitzel at Walliser Kanne:



Baby celebrated a belated first US-style Thanksgiving (at the home of our Canadian friends, who indulged us):



Baby got over her sadness at Grandma Caril's returning home by wearing her first cheesy little Christmas outfit:



And the reward for wearing her outfit was that she got to meet Niggi-Näggi and Schmutzli (luckily she wasn't put in a sack and taken to the Black Forest, although maybe we should have brought Grady with us...):

Finally, life returns to normal...

OK, TBF, you can stop taunting me! I'm finally back! After 8 long days of feeling totally disconnected to the outside world, we finally have Internet access again. Seriously, how did we survive back in the old pre-Internet days? I sure hope Baby decides to take some long naps tomorrow because I have lots of online reading (and emailing) to get caught up on.

Oh, and by the way, TBF, I'm very disappointed that I missed my chance to meet Brett Favre. Thanks for looking out for me.

Royal pain

Well, I have a new life experience I can check off the list...I met an actual, real-life Princess (and presumably Queen-to-be). Can't get too specific, but it was at a meeting in Amsterdam last week. She wasn't wearing a crown or tiara, but she had quite a presence and was really sharp. At this point I would have to say that meeting, shaking the hand and referring in her presence to "the Princess" would rank right up there with going to Vanuatu on my list of experiences I would have never expected to have...

Out of touch

Still no internet access at home...resorting to using computers at a friend's house...Gretchen's sanity barely holding...may resort to cannibalism soon...