Thanks for not drinking and driving - now here's your parting gift!

Wednesday night, 7pm, I am on my way to a school council meeting in my ¨mami-van¨.  It is dark and all of the lights on the houses are lit for the holiday season, even the ones on the police cars.  Whoa . . . police cars? Will this be the second time in the past week that I am stopped at a police check for drinking and driving?  Apparently yes.

This past weekend my husband and I were returning from a cool Christmas party in downtown Toronto complete with magicians, dancing and an Asian/Canadian Flamenco dancer.  I really love Toronto for all of its multiculturalism.  But what I really love Toronto for is the friendliness of its people.  At midnight as we were driving towards the highway traffic came to a near standstill. Lucky for us, we were in the warmth of the car unlike the police officers, those guilty of the back log in traffic.  It was a DUI control in the middle of the night in sub-zero temps with a nasty wind chill.  

As we rolled up slowly to DUI officer no. 4 in the line we rolled down our window.  Panicked only because police officers make me nervous (I am sure I did something wrong at all times of the day in my life), a smiling face came through the window.  ¨Hi, how are you two thing evening?¨ she asked my husband and me.  ¨Good,¨ answered my husband while I asked if I could have a Grande skinny Chai Latte with half sugar . . . and she laughed.  After a few more niceties and a small thank you on our part, we were on our way home and my first DUI check in Canada was, well, really nice and enjoyable. 

As my husband and I drive away, we were still in shock as to how friendly the police officer was and we even laughed to imagine how the entire scenario would have played out in Switzerland or Germany.  I am quite certain that there would have been no smiling or laughing on the part of the DUI officer had we been in Germany!

But then this evening, something even stranger happened. As I mentioned, I was on my way to a council meeting at my daughter's school. Just outside of my house there was a roadblock again set up to catch drunk drivers.  Again I was nervous and fumbled to lower my driver's side window.  Nervousness really can be a hindrance.  The officer was nice and asked me the usual questions like ¨Have you had a drink tonight?¨ to which I answered a resounding ¨No, its only 7pm (insert cute smile here). It's a bit early, right?¨ To which the  officer said ¨It is the holidays,¨ and  then he followed up with, ¨Thank you, and now you can get your coupon ahead.¨ What? What, what?  Well, I proceeded forward to get my coupon (I still was not understanding really what he said) and I received, in fact, a coupon!  Granted, it is for a BigMac at McDonalds but I got a coupon for not drinking and driving!  I told the officer and one of the MADD reps that this is one of the reasons that I love Canada (and those who know me know that I said this) and they all smiled.  

But seriously, this was the most interesting thing that occurred to me in quite some time.  And it solidified my feelings of living here in Canada.  I love it here.  I am constantly in shock how friendly people are, even those in positions of power. 

This Christmas has been a bit tough for me, honestly, after 10 years of enjoying the holidays in Germany with its Christmas Markets but little experiences like this, I can live without my gluhwein and bretzel. I really can.

Frohe Weihnachten, y'all!

OPOL is great but . . .

When my German husband and I first decided to have children, I knew in my heart that at least their first years would be in Europe and most likely in a Germanic country.  Lo and behold, as is the case with almost everything in my life when it comes to my dear husband, I was right (insert the ¨I told you so dance¨).  

With my daughter I travelled back and forth to the States when she was young twice a year  so  she could get some of the ¨Americanness into her blood - you know, it is all about the water. The trips had of course nothing to do with my homesickness (although even at the time I was in strong denial of that to myself and everyone else) or my desire to buy the both of us some fabulous clothes that I could not in Germany.  Germany had nothing like Target or Marshalls and the Gap had closed its store on the Köenigstrasse in Stuttgart only months before she was born.  So two times a year I took the flight from Stuttgart to Atlanta, thank goodness it was non-stop, and trudged home to my mom's place for weeks at a time.  Mind you I had also been doing this before my daughter was born but now there was the urgent need to have her immersed in the culture and language of America.  When my son came along, things began to change.  We had just moved to Switzerland when my son was six months old and I was trying my best to become more settled into our life in Zürich making it home only once a year.   

Before we had kids, my husband and I discussed ad nauseam the best way to support both languages in our home and outside. We decided for our family that OPOL - the one parent, one language system - would be best. In addition, I supported the idea that all media should be in American-English as well all kid's movies and music.  Did I mention that I only spoke English to Thomas, and vice versa, although my German really is quite good?  I didn't mention it? Ooops.  

The system was great.  Over the years, almost six now, we amassed quite the DVD and book library and not to mention the crafts which had to be American. My suitcase, and that of anyone coming to visit from the States, was chock full of anything I thought would help the kids in ¨their¨ pursuit of a perfect English.  I even bought some of the books that are for 7th graders studying American Art because, and I think more expat moms would agree, ¨You never know if what you see will be available again so buy it now.¨   The term ¨hoarder¨ can also be used.

So now we are in Canada which (shhhh, do not mention this to anyone up here) is for me just like being in the States as far as the language is concerned.  We still practice OPOL but now my husband is on the short end of the stick. Not only does he travel a lot right now making OPOL really ¨one parent, the other one is not here so by default there is only one language¨. Which brings me to my bone of contention du jour:  we are now watching kids movies in German.  

Friday night is in our  family movie night and this week, a mere nine weeks after arriving, my husband put his foot down on movie night. ¨No more  movies in English¨ he decreed.  Really, I thought.  Hmmm, this is going to be bad. I hate dubbed movies, even if they are cartoons. Alex, Marty, Melman and Gloria are from the Central Park Zoo, not from the Hamburg Zoo.  But even I see the importance of supporting German in the house. The kids right now speak German only with their dad and it is not enough.  Their German is deteriorating at a pace almost on par with mine.  I actually tried to speak to the kids twice now in German, thinking that while we are in an English speaking country we can use the ML@H method where the family would speak the minority language at home.    ¨You do not speak German, only Daddy,¨ was the response I received from my three year old.   Well, okay then. And that was the end of ML@H.

I understand that I should lighten up about it.   Last week, under my own initiative, I went to the Oakville Library and checked out two children's books in German and I even read to the kids in German. For some reason, reading a book was acceptable to for the kids.  And to be honest, it was good for me also as I no longer speak any German.   And the best of all was that we all enjoyed time together doing something very different and at the same time very comfortable and comforting . . . reading in our mother-tongue.

Gute Nacht und bis Morgen!

Simply Lovely!

The best thing about being back home, well, not really home but at least on the same continent, is the love of jewelry that is being reawakened in me.  Somehow I sort of lost that in the last 10 years abroad and more in the last 6 years since having kids.  I admit it, kids made me frumpier than I would have liked.  Since moving here, my kids at six and three and a half and slowly becoming more independent (insert sound of sigh of relief).  Now going out and about I find myself looking for new things to spice up my life and subconsciously convey to the world that I am a different person (my analyst would love this).  Of course, this is all made easier with the ease and convenience of the North American lifestyle.

a gorgeous amber necklace from simply livly

So how best to convey this change and feel good about myself and help the economy at the same time? Well, I discovered Winners up here in the Great White North (which is all of the above minus the ¨white¨).  Think Marshalls and TJMaxx rolled into one fabulous store which I love perusing for a half hour once a week. I think of it as yoga for the merchandising soul in me while keeping my husband at bay with their great prices.  Even my best friend who was visiting from Stuttgart found an amazing down stadium coat from DKNY among some other great bargains.  Seriously, you have to love (North) America!  But I digress.

As much as I love to get the great bargains, I certainly do not find one of a kind pieces there. So I need  to buy accessories elsewhere. While visiting Atlanta a few weeks back I looked at a few great boutiques in Decatur and Edgewood  as well as Anthropologie to find some one of a kind pieces and jewelry.  None of the necklaces I saw really spoke to me. But then I remembered a great little store a friend of mine recently opened on Etsy. You know Etsy, right?  Yeah, that is the site you can ogle over everything you ever wanted or needed and it is all unique and handcrafted. 

I jumped online as soon as I got home and found two great necklaces for my simple t-shirts as well as my fancier tunics. I have known Pam since 1996 when a mutual friend of ours introduced us in Atlanta. Since then we have followed each others lives and I have always been in awe of her. Not only is she a full-time working mom of two gorgeous girls but also a very creative soul.  She just recently began her jewelry line  simply livly  Her necklaces are bold but simultaneously comfortable and amazingly lightweight, sassy while being refined.  Luckily, she ships internationally so a week after I ordered them, I was wearing my golden crystal necklace.  

Simply Lovely!

We really aren't in Kansas anymore . . .

Let me preface this with saying that I really love my new home, my new country and so much around me. I have very few complaints and when I do complain it is more often than not just me realizing that I am no longer living in Europe. The last 10 years for me were spent in Europe and getting used to that lifestyle took some/much adjustment.  Now being back in this side of the pond I am also needing some time to readjust. 

Two weeks ago, a few days after we moved into our home, quite the storm was brewing outside. The wind was blowing in gusts and the rain was coming down quite heavily all day.  Tuesday is garbage day in this section of Oakville and every Tuesday paper, cans, bottles and organic matter. However, in order to keep the waste down and citizens recycling more, the regular trash, including diapers, styrofoam, and other such things that can not be recycled, will be picked up. After searching around for the perfect garbage can over the weekend that could not be toppled over by ravaging raccoons (yes, we have loads of raccoons) nor blown over in the winds we found one that would suit our needs.  Honestly, this little task alone took a visit to Wal-Mart, Home Depot and finally to my new favorite store that sells much more than only tires, Canadian Tire (think Metro in Germany or Sam's Club without the membership).  So on the day of our big garbage pickup, I did some more errands in the morning, as one is prone to do when setting up a new house, and came home at lunch.

Driving up I saw that the paper, organic matter and bottles had all been picked up.  ¨Great, it is all coming together and all before noon,¨ I thought.  And for those of you who have done this type of move, you know what I mean. Its the little things, right?  Parking the car I realized that the garbage can lid was back on properly.   How nice it was that the garbage collectors took the time to put the lids back on while those who did the recycling pick up threw the bins back onto the lawn rather haphazardly. So in the gusty, rainy weather I brought everything safely into the garage - which is where you put everything but I will write more about that another time.  I need to put some trash away that had been accumulating in my wonderful rental mini-van and *gasp* . . . the trash had in fact not been emptied. Now what? I felt so silly.  Perhaps I had not done the right recyling? It certainly happens in Germany that a garbage man can decide that too many items are in the trash that could have been recycled and so the trash does not get picked up.  Maybe that was the case here.  Deciding to take a more laid back approach, contrary to my personality, I decided to deal with my mistake of refuse division later in the day.

But about two hours later I heard that sound - the sound of a large truck making frequent stops. By the time my brain got moving, as well as my legs, it was too late. The garbage collectors had come and gone. And I learned a very valuable lesson - they leave a ¨calling card¨ informing the residents that the trash has been collected . . . 

Yes, you see it correctly my friends in Germany and Switzerland. The garbage cans are thrown onto the lawn and driveway and no matter what kind of great garbage can you bought, be it $20 or $140 (plus 13% tax, of course), these cans will also be blowing in the wind, across the neighbor's yard and into the street.  

And that, my friends, was the neither the first nor the last experience reminding me that we really are no longer in Kansas anymore . . . and I like it that way!

Oh Canada!

It is official and now I can scream it from the rooftops . . . we are moving to Canada!

Well, actually we moved. Two weeks ago we moved.  I love the moms who can continue to blog and keep up all appearances of normalcy prior to any move, not to mention an overseas move, however, I am not one of those.

I will readily admit that this move knocked me out. I knew it would be tough but how tough I was not really aware of.  We are starting over again.  It has been a real culture shock. My daughter will not eat the lunch meats or sausages here.  My son wants to eat only at ¨Chicken Nuggets¨ (also known to the rest of the world as McDonald's). We no credit history therefore no credit card nor car loan.  It has been challenging.  But at the same time it has been exciting and fun learning about a new culture and all it has to offer.

So join me on my newest adventure on North American soil . . . it will be fun!

Geppetto would love Mr. Pinocchio's store

There is nothing like shopping for children, both big and small.  And in Zurich there are so many lovely little shops catering to moms like me looking for that very special gift for a birthday party or just so.   I have been to Mr. Pinocchio more times than I care to mention.

Located in the Altstadt (Old City) of Zurich on Oberdorfstrasse 3 and only a few minutes walk from my favorite deli, Bellevue Deli, Mr. Pinocchio is the brainchild of Antonella Gherlardi.  She lovingly selects all of the items in her store searching out tried and true classics from Djeco, books from the series  ¨This is . . . ¨ from Miroslav Sasek as well as Olivia and Curious George (who is, by the way, known in the german speaking world as Coco). And as one would expect from international Zurich, she has books available in English, German, Italian and Spanish.  Mrs. Gherlardi has a love for children which you can see and feel throughout the quaint one-room store.  Everywhere you turn,  wonderful little toys grab your attention.   From costume mustaches, pirate hats, and comic books to wind-up birds in cages and Vespa calendars, you will find everything which will make bog kids and little smile with delight.


Naturally other stores such as Pastorini & Franz Carl Weber offer customers a larger selection of toys. But as individual as my children and their friends are, I prefer to shop with Mrs. Gherlardi in her gorgeous store filled with unique and exceptional gifts!


Buon Divertimento!

Knowing where your food comes from is good . . . right?

I had to laugh again today as I opened my emails to find not the usual GAP offer or Nordstroms sale but the quarterly email from my local farmer, Fritz Baumann Jr.   I note that his name as Junior as he is not your ¨old school¨ farmer that we all know and love but rather the next generation farmer and he knows the power of direct communication with his customers. 

The email had the basic information a consumer needs: how old the cow is, where it lived, how many kilos are expected from the cow at slaughter and that I can order 5kg, 10kg and 25kg  mixed packages of meat.  Attached was a lovely photo of the one year old grazing cow (see above) which will be slaughtered shortly as well as a 10 page powerpoint presentation explaining how wonderful the Limosin beef is as opposed to Angus beef, etc.   

I know. 

I know!

Seriously, I know. When I first started getting the emails, I thought is was going to lose it. I did not want to see a photo of THE cow I will be eating. I grew up in suburban Atlanta where you got your meat from the grocery store.  Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine meat even came from anything other than, well, the store.  But when I was 10 I do remember, however, that my dad bought a half of a pig and a quarter of a cow from ¨Uncle Leonard¨ in Indiana.   My dad rented a U-Haul trailer, packed that meat up in dry-ice and we hauled (that is why they call it U-Haul, right?) that meat down to Georgia.  A few days later my mom was making her famous pork chops from that little pig (prize winning hogs I was later told they were) and in the pan was the blood.  I cried that night when I realized that the meat came from . . . an animal.  

But I got over it (pretty quickly as my Drama Queen prone self does).  30 years  later I am a steak tartare loving gal.  Living in Europe and more specifically Switzerland, I have gained a greater appreciation for food.    Just two weeks ago on one of the rare days of warm temps and sun (this spring has been cold and rainy, unusually so), I was driving over the Hirzel and the cows were sauntering through the fields swinging their tales in apparent happiness.  As much as I chuckle when I get the email from Mr. Baumann, at least I know that I know the meat comes from a happy cows,  probably the happiest cows in the world.  You are what you eat.

En Guete!

Sandwiches taste better when someone else makes them

10 years after moving to Europe, I had all but forgotten the love of sandwiches I once had in the States.  A nice tasty sandwich at a local deli was staple once a week.  On the other side of the pond, however, my once a week fix came to a screeching halt when I realized no one could make a decent sandwich. Sure, I could get a nice bread or roll with some ham and some cheese on it but, in theory, I could make something that simple myself. I never did, of course, but the idea was out there at least.

And then one day this Spring, after living in Zurich for over two years, I found myself ready to catch the tram back home and *gasp* hungry.  What to do? The sushi bar would have been a nice thing to do but I could not just justify the 25Chf for a few pieces of sushi as take-away.  It was lunch time and in the cold I saw people lining up outside a small window and ordering lunches. ¨Perfect¨ I thought, this looks like something good. I made my way up to the window and saw some lovely  sandwiches in a basket as well as tempting desserts (real brownies) and various salads in the window. 

I ordered the California Chicken with cranberry pesto and cilantro and fell in love with Bellevue Deli (Bellevueplatz 2, 8001 Zurich).  This is my favorite place to grab a quick lunch and I have scheduled more than one appointment in the city around lunchtime so that I can have a sandwich for lunch. Yes, I am that obsessed with having someone make me my sandwich.  I can also highly recommend the chicken & bacon focaccia as well as the  tuna sandwich. My friend Jersey (no, that is not his real name) and I recently went to Bellevue Deli and we both agreed a tuna fish sandwich is really something left to moms and friends to make. It needs to be done with love. But the tuna sandwich at Bellevue is made with love.  ¨It's mom's recipe¨ the owner confided in us as he stepped outside to say hello to some fellow Americans. 

And the best thing about Bellevue Deli beside the fact that the sandwiches are amazing, the soups are great, the staff is friendly, there are lovely little bistro tables outside to watch the passersby while eating is the fact that the meals are affordable!  Sandwiches are about 7Chf.

En Guete!

The circle of life

Two and a half years ago I moved here to Zurich, Switzerland from Stuttgart, Germany. At the time it was a few days before Christmas and the winter solstice. My daughter was a wee three years old and my son almost six months. My husband was beginning a new position at his company.  Oh, and did I mention my husband and I were celebrating our (lucky) seven year anniversary?

Two days after we moved, my brother flew over to visit for the holidays and one of my best friends came from Hawaii to spend the holidays with her family from Bern, a mere one and a half hours from Zurich.  I went to Bern to see the city on cold and blistering day.  Sitting at a local restaurant with ¨P¨ I began to wonder where I had landed. The language was so strange and yet oddly familiar.  Seven years of German will help with that feeling.

Yesterday, I saw that friend from Hawaii in Bern as she was visiting her family. The weather was lovely and only a few weeks shy of the summer solstice.   My oh my how things have changed.  In the next week our family will find out if we will be leaving this land of mountains, lakes, cows, cheese, and (in my humble opinion) perfection.  Life here has been great for all us despite some challenges. The weather, the language and culture have made me crazy from time to time but at the same time feel more at home here than I did for seven years 160km (100miles) to the north.   And this makes the feelings that I have for Switzerland all the more intense as an impending move nears.  

Only a few months ago my husband was asked if he was interested in a position in my former neighbor to the north, Canada. We said ¨yes¨not knowing or thinking too much about it. And then months went by before we heard anything but then it all went so fast. Now we are looking a possible move in August.  

As I walked with the kids through Bern yesterday I realized it might be the first and last time we make that trip together.  I look at everything now with the same eyes I had when we moved here. I am appreciating the sunsets, the blue skies, the snow capped mountains and the ¨gruezis¨ more than I did before. The kids are hearing more of ¨hey, look over there - mountains with snow!¨than ever before.

And today, as we rollerbladed around the Zurich Airport, I could not help but thinking that in a couple of months we might well be on one of those planes. And while it made me sad to know that the circle might close on us here I know that a new circle will begin elsewhere.