Happy Birthday America

The Barbeque, a quintessential American past time. There's nothing quite like a Summer afternoon and evening spent in the backyard while the men barbeque, the women gossip, and the children run around with water guns like wild heathens in bathing suits. Some of my fondest Summer memories have been passed lounging around in the sun with friends and family, watermelon juice running down my fingers. It is all so very American. No wonder that on our Independence day we break out the barbeques and rub on the sunblock. Nothing goes better with red, white, and blue like some yummy baby back ribs.

You wouldn't believe how many people here in Germany ask me if I like BBQ sauce. And most of the people who ask me then tell me I'm weird for liking it (ahem, Bernie...). I guess it's one of those things that is just super American and I never really stopped to think about it, just like barbeques. Here in Germany they call the grill (the machine) a grill like we do. But unlike us, they call the act of having a barbeque, grilling ("Oh we are grilling on Saturday, want to join in?"). Which is just so strange to me. All the same, a tomato is a tomato whatever you call it, I'm glad they enjoy grilling things too. I've been seriously missing out on BBQ. The Summer weather (in between all the rain) has provided for some lovely opportunities to have grills with my friends.

About two or so weeks ago I began to ponder what I should do for the 4th of July. My friends had told me they would gladly celebrate with me, so I had to think of something fun and super American to do. Then it hit me, duh, we would have a barbeque. That's what I've done on the 4th of July as long as I can remember, so why wouldn't I do it again this year?! Of course I came to this conclusion like three days before the actual holiday, typical me, so I had to throw together plans at the speed of light. Nacha and Bernie graciously offered up their apartment for the event, and with that part squared away, I invited people and suggested food items to bring. And of course I told people to wear red, white, and blue... we can't have the 4th of July without being a little patriotic now can we?? Well, technically we could. But it's no fun that way, so hush.

Since the 4th of July fell on a Wednesday this year (middle of the week? laaaame), I had to work. I wore a cute red, white, and blue outfit that was perfect for the warm day. And while Martha, Frieda, and I colored, I created very holiday themed pictures. I tried to get them to join in on the fun, but no such luck. They just kept doing their usual coloring, which, is as usual awesome. I love that we get to get all crafty together. I didn't get to spend much time with the girls that afternoon though, Christiane had me run a bunch of errands for Martha's mermaid themed birthday party that's coming up soon. Which was a really fun shopping trip I must say.

After work, I biked over to Penny Markt (a fabulously cheap grocery store), and got some steaks, potato salad, lemon cake mix, and fruit for my part of the potluck. Then I headed over to Nacha and Bernie's apartment, which isn't too far from Penny's.

I was the first to arrive at Nacha's (shocker, I know), but I expected this considering our "party" wasn't going to be a big one; just Nacha, Bernie, Ivanka, and I with Albert and Daniel possibly coming.

I broke out the cake mix and added the needed milk, butter, and eggs and then put it a typical rectangular cake pan (well, it wasn't technically a pan since it was glass.... I'm not good with kitchen-y things). While the cake baked, Nacha and I sat on the balcony chatting and enjoying the beautiful evening.

Soon Ivanka arrived (not wearing red, white, or blue... shaaame), and not long after Bernie got home from work. With Bernie home, we started up the grill. Nacha brought out all the food onto the balcony; a delicious assortment of fruit, meats, potato salad, sodas, pretzel sticks, and beer. I took the cake out of the oven and set it near the window to cool.

View from the balcony, the grill, and the cake.

Albert came and we started to munch on the food in earnest. The meat wasn't quite cooked yet, so we didn't want to fill up on pretzel sticks. Once my cake had finally cooled, Nacha whipped up some whipped cream for me and spread it over the top of the cake.While she did this I cut two bananas into slices and cut a handful of strawberries in half. With the whipped cream on the cake and the fruit cut, I was ready to begin my creation. In the top left corner of the cake I took blueberries and lined them up into a couple rows until they had made a nice square. Then with the rest of the cake I made alternating stripes of strawberries and bananas. The result? An American flag cake!

Me and my cake creation.

After I finished the cake, I rejoined everyone on the balcony and our barbeque really began. Nacha cut up all the meat into little pieces and stuck toothpicks in them for easy eating. The balcony isn't very big, so we all could reach the different foods on the little table from where we were sitting. The food was delicious. The only thing missing was watermelon. A tragedy to be sure.

Sadly after we were done eating Albert had to go. He had a birthday party to go to, but we were all glad that he was able to stop by. Not long after he left, Daniel arrived. He ate while we all just hung out on the balcony and talked about random things. We usually have really strange conversations on the balcony, one time we talked about the history of the toilet. No, I'm not kidding.

Ivanka and I like to pretend like we are sisters.

Bernie consented to be in a picture with Nacha (and his beer)./The girlies and I posing in a "family" portrait.

Then it was cake time. Always the best part of a party right? Oh gosh, it was so yummy. This being the first time I had attempted this recipe, I was a little worried, but it turned out lovely. And I'm not the only one who thought so, everyone else loved it too. I'm always quite proud when my cooking skills somehow manage to create yumminess. (There's been too many cookie massacres in the past to count. I think I have a better handle on cakes. Sort of...).

We basked in the last few rays of the sun as it slipped behind the clouds and then went inside. It was almost 10 o'clock at night after all. After a clean up and some chatting, Nacha scooted us all out of the apartment because she had Bernie had an early morning the next day.

Like most holidays this year, this wasn't a very typical one for me. But I loved it anyways. 4th of July is my second favorite holiday, I gotta party it up! Well, I'm not really a partier. Grilling is nice and tame, enough of a party for me.

Friends, food, a grill, and a dash of patriotism made for a wonderful 4th of July barbeque. Like the many 4th of July barbeque's that have come before it, it was a great display of the American spirit. American spirit, in Germany, with two Chileans, an Argentinian, an Irish girl, and a German. What a melting pot.

Kleines Künstlern

Martha, Frieda, and I spend a lot of time together. And a good portion of that time is spent drawing, painting, and craft making. I love this bonding time. It's so great to color alongside them, help them when they need it, and spark their creativity. Art was a really big part of my childhood, and I'm always glad to pass it on to others. Especially in an electronic age when it's more exciting to color on your touch screen than it is to actually get paint on your hands. I love electronics, don't get me wrong, but when it comes down to it... I would rather have a pencil and paper any day. But I'm rambling. Point is, I love all this creativity that the three of us make together. It's been so cool to see how their artistic talent has grown over the months I've been here. I hope even after I go home they continue their desire to be creative. If I could leave one impression on these girls, that would be it. Use that imagination. It's there for a reason.

Now like any proud parent/sibling/etc, I feel the need to show off my favorites of the kiddos ever so awesome artwork. Which you will "ooo" and "ahh" at like the good people I know you are. Or else. (haha).

Martha. First drawing we ever did together. (crayon, marker, and colored pencil)

Frieda. Can you guess what her favorite color is? (watercolor)

Martha. This was during her Harry Potter craze. (marker)

Frieda. "Das ist ein Straße!"(marker)

Martha. She and her friend dressed up as witches trick-or-treating. (colored pencil)

Frieda. (watercolor)

Martha. Part of my Christmas present. (colored pencil)

Frieda. I spy a hand print! (watercolor)

Martha and Frieda. This is a Christmas cat... whatever that is haha. (marker and pencil)

Martha. The Easter bunny on his rounds. (colored pencil and marker)

Frieda. One of my favorites of her drawings. (pen and colored pencil)

Martha. A rainbow! (marker)

Frieda. (colored pencil)

Martha. This is my absolute favorite of Martha's. (watercolor)

Frieda. Reminds me of the world. (watercolor)

Martha. Self portrait of her kayaking. (watercolor and colored pencil)

It's a little ridiculous how proud I am of Martha and Frieda. My little art proteges, aww. Doesn't matter if they never pursue art later in life, I'm glad I was here to nurture love of art early on. Because life without art (or a love of it) would be a dreary place.

Raccoons & Parades

When I think of the word "carnival", several things pop into my head. One thought being of a carnival that is similar to a traveling circus with Ferris Wheels and freak shows. Then I think of my church's Halloween carnival that we throw each year. Lastly I think of Carnival, where people celebrate the time before Lent and the coming of Spring. Then I laugh and think of Mardi Gras (drunk people and beads).

America, unlike the rest of the world (how very typical of us), calls Carnival, Mardi Gras. And it isn't a very huge holiday in the States except for in New Orleans (that I know of... I mean someone random in the Midwest could celebrate it and I would never know haha). However, a large portion of rest of the world celebrates Carnival.

Basically, Carnival and Mardi Gras are the same. It's one big party to shake off Winter and bring in the Spring. A long time ago pagans celebrated it as a way to get rid of the witches and evil spirits associated with Winter (similar to what they did for Halloween). But like a lot of pagan holidays, the Catholic church stepped in an created their own holiday to counter act the pagan one. Carnival became a time to give one last big hoorah before entering into the forty days of Lent. Basically a week to party like there is no tomorrow. And Fat Tuesday is the grand finale. Then you gotta be all holy and give up something on Ash Wednesday. I, for instance, said bye bye to Coke (the SODA... get your mind out of the gutter!), my all time favorite addiction besides chocolate.

Spring cleaning time! Gotta get rid of those witches in your closet!

So Fat Tuesday rolled around and I was pretty excited that I would get to celebrate actual factual Carnival. Since Tuesday is a work day for me, I worked. Imagine that. But, I did get off early to go to Karlsruhe's Carnival parade! Originally Martha was going to go with me, but she decided last minute that she didn't want to go. I was bummed, but it was better in the long run... it was absolute chaos at the parade.

Before I left for the parade, I got all dressed up. Which is what a lot of people do for Carnival in varying degrees. It's kind of like the rest of the world's Halloween (I still think Halloween is better). I, being the ever so creative soul that I am, created a costume out of what I had at home. So I transformed myself into a raccoon. Sans tail (couldn't figure out how to make that in the time that I had). Dressed in a mix of grey and black with a face painted face, I headed out into the city.

My raccoon face painting (acrylic paint).

My whole raccoon costume!

I was running a little late due to my costume, and thus my plans for the parade failed quite epically. You see, I was supposed to meet up with Nacha and her family (who were visiting from Chile) in Marktplatz. But by the time I got there, I realized I couldn't cross the street like I had planned to do, and the parade was just about to begin. And my phone battery was about to die so I didn't have much time to work out a plan with Nacha. So I decided to find a good place to watch the parade and then meet up with Nacha and her family after.

Of course finding a spot to watch was easier said than done. Just to get where I was standing (across the street from Europaplatz) I had to wade my way through hordes of people, most of whom were drunk. I wasn't keen on doing that again, so I looked for a spot nearby where I was standing. I was starting to get desperate when I finally spotted an okay spot where I would only have to peer above a couple heads to see. The parade had already begun, and I was glad just to be able to watch it. Little did I know what I would be dealing with the whole parade.

The parade was almost two hours long, and I instantly regretted not wearing a thicker jacket. My fleece is warm, but not warm enough for the cold wind that was blowing as the sun began to get lower in the sky (being so high above the equator is so annoying sometimes). I spent most of the parade bouncing on the balls of my feet to stay warm. It was also not so fun to stand in one place for that long, but I was distracted enough by the floats and parade goers that it didn't really matter.

The parade was really interesting. It was filled with a lot of traditional German Carnival costumes and clubs. Many of both have been around for several hundred years. Some are newer. But it's clear the clubs take Carnival, their floats, and their costumes seriously. I think my favorite were the witch costumes, they had these scary and intricate masks. They also were hilarious... they walked around with confetti and threw it on people. Or tried to hit you with a pigs bladder (no, I'm not kidding). Other clubs dressed up as lots of other things like clowns, Native Americans, and animals.

One of the floats. The girls in the braids, hats, and dresses are one of the tradition outfits I mentioned.

Pretty sure these guys were jesters.

See all that confetti? The witches were having a field day.

Like most parades, this one involved candy throwing. Which of course is awesome (nothing quite like having hard candy chucked at your head, right?). I like candy, most people do, so I of course wanted some. Now, I really only wanted like a handful or two, which isn't much considering how much candy was thrown. But I was thwarted in my attempts almost every single time I reached for the candy. Why? Problem #1: I'm a butter fingers and can't catch things to save my life. This is always a problem at parades. But usually I'm able to just pick up what I've dropped. But here entered problem #2: The people around me were drunk, greedy little bastards. Anytime candy would come, it was like we were getting brand new iPads thrown at us, the excitement and greed was ridiculous. I would reach for a dropped candy, and either be beaten to it (fair game I guess) or have it snatched out of my hands (not fair at all). Mind you, these are adults I am talking about here. There was only one kid near me, and he was at the front of the crowd, so he was getting candy handed to him by the people in the parade. He didn't have to fight over it like everyone else was. Since I was unwilling to take part in this bloodbath, I just gave up on candy unless it landed directly at my feet. Even then it was a challenge to claim it as mine. Ri-freaking-diculous. I've seen seven-year-old's with more manners.

Blue wig and blondie were the worst of my drunk "friends"...

So aside from ever so delightfully dealing with the company of a drunken crowd, I really enjoyed myself. It was such a cool parade. Candy, costumes, music, and excitement abound. The people watching opportunities were immense. And the looks people gave me for my costume were priceless. My one regret of the afternoon? I wish I had been closer to the front.

Once the last float had floated on by, I entered the sea of people to make my way out of the city center to meet up at Nacha's apartment. Once I got there I was one happy camper to be away from so many people. Crowds really aren't my thing. (Which is hilarious, considering how much I love Disneyland and how I deal with crowds there all the time. Moving on... ) Hanging out with Nacha and her family was a blast. We had tea and cakes and just relaxed. I chatted with her parents (who are super sweet), played Cars with her little brother (lots of car crashes were involved), and watched Simon's Cat videos on Youtube with her two sisters (so hilarious). I was sad to say goodbye when the night was done.

Nacha, Azu, me, and Jo. (Azu was still in her cat costume and I in my raccoon costume).

Carnival. One big party. Fun, and not so fun. I'm not a big party girl... I like my nerdy activities such as book reading more than getting drunk. I am really glad I got to experience it though. My rule is to always try something once, and if I don't like it I don't have to do it again. And I must say that I would definitely go to Carnival next year if I had the chance. I mean come on, who would miss out on an excuse to dress up like a woodland creature?! Not this girl.

Playing with Fire

Fourth of July is one of my favorite holidays. There is just something deliciously nostalgic about barbeques, fireworks, Summer, swimming, friends, family and patriotism all rolled up into one holiday. And it's really the one time a year that Americans really go nutters for fireworks. I have always been fascinated by fireworks. But they also scare the crap out of me. I've never really had good luck with them; I'm kind of a magnet for firework dangers. One year I was playing with a sparkler in my aunt and uncle's front yard with all the other kids (we were sky writing words) when all of the sudden a spark popped off the sparkler and landed on my collarbone and burned me. Quite predictably I screamed and got all the adults running. Once I was in the kitchen my mom inspected the damage and found that my vest had been burnt along with my skin. I was horrified, more about the vest than my burn at this point, because it was my Fourth of July vest. I have always been quite festive when it comes to holidays. Aloe vera and some hugs stopped the flow of my tears, and I soon was back playing with the other kids. The burn eventually healed, but the mark it left was more a figurative one. I didn't play with sparklers for years after that day.

You can imagine my excitement and fear when I was told that Germany is really big on setting off fireworks for New Years. It's such a weird concept to me, Americans really don't do the whole firework thing on this holiday. I remembered coverage of other countries in past New Years specials on T.V., I just always thought it was strange they set off fireworks. I'm so used to the ball drop in Times Square being the big festivity. Fireworks only fit in two places in my brain 1. 4th of July 2. Disneyland. So I found myself getting excited to ring in the new year a little different than usual.

I spent New Years Eve day reading. No, I'm not that big of a nerd. I put down my book to join my German family (and their friends) for dinner. We had meat fondu. Which is yummy, but tortuous. Nothing like sitting and waiting for your food to cook while your stomach roars like a angry lion. After dinner we went outside to the street to set off fireworks. Since the kids were going to bed before midnight, they didn't want to miss out on the fun. All the fireworks were "kid friendly." Sparklers of course were amongst the options. Which I avoided until I just couldn't stand it anymore. They are just so sparkly. I also had quite a bit of fun with the cherry bombs. Martha and her friend (with their dads) were having quite the thrill setting off little fireworks that whorled and spun around on the street. Frieda and her friend just stuck to the sparklers and cherry bombs like me. But we had just as much fun as the older girls! Once we were out of fireworks I said good bye and headed out into the night to meet up with my friends.

I walked over to Nacha and Bernie's flat which is conveniently quite close to my apartment. Balin (sorry if I'm spelling your name wrong... I'm lousy with names), Bernie's friend, came along too. We all hopped onto the Straßenbahn and found ourselves surrounded by fellow New Years celebrators. After staring at a girls holey stockings for a good 15 minutes (I just couldn't understand why she would sacrifice being warm in order to look so scandalous), we got off the train with all the other passengers. Apparently Durlach was the place to be. After a short walk up a hill we found ourselves at the Turmbergbahn station. (Which I visited with Lea back in October). We found Albert, whom we planned to meet there, and squished onto the oldest train in Germany with a bunch of other people. Thankful to be free of the claustrophobic train, I burst out onto the look out platform only to find it just as crowded, and even more chaotic.

Just a half an hour to midnight, the excitement was tangible in the air. People were all over the place; drinking, talking, and setting off fireworks. Our little group made our way over to an area near the guard rail of the lookout platform. If I got on tiptoe I could see the breathtaking view of all of Karlsruhe lighting up the night. One we settled in one spot, the drinks began to flow. Nacha told us to bring our own cups, which made for a funny sight. Alcohol just looks silly in a water cup. The guys started examining the stash of fireworks we had brought along, just itching to set them off. While they were busy being boys, I people and firework watched. I tried to keep my distance, but because everyone was so squished together it was an impossible feat. Some sparks landed on my jacket several times (one burned a hole) but the boys were much quicker to react and brush off the sparks than I was. Thanks guys!

The view of all Karlsruhe from the lookout platform. Legit right?

These are like beyond illegal in LB, but perfectly legal in Karlsruhe! Wahaha.

As the minutes ticked by, the pandemonium grew. More and more fireworks began to explode above and in the crowd. And then the countdown began. When the clock struck midnight, my world exploded. The noise around me was deafening, as the roar of people and fireworks joined as one sound. And when I looked out over the city, I saw that it was blanketed in the most amazing impromptu fireworks show I have ever seen. It was like the city was on fire. I couldn't rip my eyes away from it.

Nacha, the boys, and I toasted to the new year as it began to rain. I just looked up into the sky and smiled. It was the most simple and beautiful way to start of 2012. Fresh rain washing away an old year. And a new year being escorted in with the startling power and beauty of fireworks. All while surrounded by new friends in a new place. I've never experienced a New Year's like it.

Several moments throughout the night. (All the night's pictures were taken by Nacha).

Not long after midnight people began to clear out, giving the Bernie, Balin, and Albert more space to set off our fireworks. Then next two hours consisted of drinks, fireworks, and laughter. I even dared to play with a sparkler. Twice in one night was really pushing my luck. Nacha (who is from Chile) taught me a couple New Year's traditions from her country. My favorite was taking 12 pieces of rice and putting them in my drink and making wishes on them. Once I drank almost all of my drink, I was to swirl the dregs of my drink and rice around and then toss it out of my cup. If all the rice was gone in one toss, my wishes would come true. If some stayed, I would not get all my wishes granted. All my rice went out in one toss, so I expect some wish granting this year fairy godmother! Haha.

Me staying very far from my arch nemesis... the sparkler.

Note the boys are showing off one of their prized fireworks.

At some point during our two hours of revelry, I was talking to Nacha when something caught my eye and I looked up to find a firework flying straight at me. Looking back, I should have ducked, but my first instinct was just to close my eyes. (Which was a very good instinct. I might not have eyesight in one eye if I didn't.) Almost instantly after I shut my eyes my right eyelid exploded with pain. I tried to flick the firework out of my face but I wasn't very successful so Nacha jumped to the rescue. She was soon able to get the pieces away from my face, but I was still in pain. My eye was crying involuntarily, and I was freaking out about opening my eye. I was so worried if I wasn't going to be able to see anything when I opened it.

Finally I opened my eyes to find that both eyes were in working order. But it was my eyelids that were crying out in pain. After assuring everyone I was okay, I made a beeline to the bathroom to inspect the damage. Once in front of a mirror I realized my upper and lower eyelids on my right eye had been burned. My eye looked perfectly fine. So with relief filling my stomach, I set about wiping what was left of my eye makeup. I soaked the burn in cold water for a bit and then rejoined my friends.

Fireworks and I just don't get along.

The guys set off the rest of the fireworks as Nacha and I just talked. I was quite happy to avoid any chance of getting burned yet again. And talking with Nacha is always fun. So it was a win win situation. When our little group finally decided to leave we were among the few stranglers left of the mountain. We soon discovered the Turmbergbahn was closed and that we would have to walk down the mountain (more of a really big hill in my opinion). Which was quite the adventure considering all of us were quite tipsy. It was quite the giggle and I thoroughly enjoyed myself. But don't worry, all five of us made it safely back down and got on the correct Straßenbahn. The whole way home Nacha blew kiddy bubbles (you know, the ones with those bubble wands). I was dying of laughter. Such a strange place for bubbles.

I got home and was quite happy to curl up in bed and go to sleep. It was quite the eventful New Year's. I wonder if that means this is going the be quite the eventful year. Only time will tell.

Update: My burn has healed quite nicely. Now I just have a scar. Lovely.

The Boots

Last night I cleaned my boots and left one by the front door and dutifully went to bed "early" like a good little girl. I am sure you are wondering why I would do this. Isn't it obvious? Sankt Nikolaus was coming, and I had to be prepared!

My very clean boot.

I can bet most of my American readers are very confused as of this moment. As for my German readers, they know exactly what I am talking about (duh). Shall I explain for the clueless out there?

When I think "Sankt Nikolaus" (Saint Nicholas... in English) I come up with two thoughts. One being of a big, jolly man in a red suit who comes and brings me presents on Christmas Eve. The other being the legend surrounding the actual Saint Nicholas, and all his kind deeds hundreds of years ago. But most Americans would only think of the first thought. Because Saint Nicholas and Santa are one in the same for us. But, this is not so in Germany.

Germans give Sankt Nikolaus a whole holiday all to himself. And the Weihnachtsmann (literally translates as "Chrismas man") gets a whole holiday to himself as well. Because they are different people! Nikolaus was an actual man who became a saint in the Catholic Church; while the Weihnachtsmann (Santa Claus) is not a real person, but just an embodiment of the Christmas spirit and a great way to bring joy to little kids, and parents, across the country. So Sankt Nikolaus day is on the 6th of December, and the Weihnachtsmann gets to spread his holiday cheer on 25th of December.

How this holiday works is that on the night of December 5th, you grab your boots and scrub them clean. Then, you put them on your doorstep with some milk and cookies. And if you have been good this year, Sankt Nikolaus will come in the middle of the night and fill your boot with candies and sometimes small presents. Then of course when you wake up in them morning you run to the front door to see what you have received. As you can tell this is a kid centered holiday in many aspects. The fun for the parents comes in another form. Usually if you have a party on or near the 6th of December, Sankt Nikolaus will show up. He will then read off all the naughty things the children in the room have done this year. Then the children are expected to sing a song or recite a poem to curry his favor. If they do well, all is forgiven and they get goodies. If not, Sankt Nikolaus' helper will swat you with a birch stick. Of course, all in good fun. Usually the parents get a good kick out of the kids squirming and trying to deny their bad deeds of the year.

So last night, Martha, Frieda and I cleaned our boots and set them in front of our front doors. We also prepared a plate of cookies and a glass of milk. All in the hopes that we had been good enough little girls this year and cleaned our boots well enough to receive candy. Then we went to bed early like good little girls should. (I must confess I didn't go to bed early. Shame on me...).

Martha and Frieda's boots. Along with the milk and cookies.

This morning I hopped out of bed (an unusual occurrence) and swung open my front door. There stood my boot. Full of chocolate. I was so excited! Before I closed the door, I noted that the girls had already grabbed their own boots. Typical. I hopped back into bed and gleefully dumped out the contents of my boot. All chocolate. Then, like the "grown up" that I am, I had to get ready for German class. I sadly couldn't linger over the awesomeness of the morning.

My boot and my loot.

I just got back from class and thoroughly enjoyed a few pieces of my chocolate. I want to make these last me till Christmas (when I will be getting more chocolate), but I doubt that will happen. Chocolate is just too good to resist.

Gobble, Gobble, Gobble!

My great-grandmother lived into her nineties and died when I was in Jr. High. So I have a lot of solid memories of her. The first few things that come to mind when I think of her are: poodles, piano, Lamb Chop, and turkeys. An odd assortment to be sure. But they all are associated with very strong memories of her. Poodles because she always had a pet poodle before she got moved into a nursing home. I remember taking them for walks with her. Piano because she is the first person who taught me how to play. She would make me put my hand on the Bible and pray before we ever played anything. Lamb Chop is a special one because it is my very first memory. When I was two-years-old she gave me a Lamb Chop stuffed animal for Christmas. My very first memory is of holding that stuffed animal and thinking how absolutely wonderful it was. Turkeys. Well that one just makes me laugh. In her later years I remember her starting to tease me at Thanksgiving by going: "What does a turkey say Ashley? Gobble, gobble, gobble!" It never failed to make me laugh. She was just so silly. So, whenever I think of Thanksgiving now, the first thing that comes to mind is a gobbling turkey and my great-grandma. Which always makes me smile.

As November rolled around this year I was starting to get slightly heartbroken. I couldn't handle the thought that I had just missed out on Halloween and now would be missing out on Thanksgiving too. That's like half the holiday season right there. It made me super homesick thinking about all the fun I was missing out on. Now, of course, I had made my own sort of Halloween here in Germany. I was determined to do the same thing for Thanksgiving. I knew it would help me not focus on being so homesick. So I asked Christiane if I could make dinner for her and the family on Thanksgiving Day. She said okay, and I immediately got to planning.

I of course went to my trusty aid (Google) and went searching for Thanksgiving recipes. And my Grandma Marmion gave me me a couple to choose from. I soon found all that I was looking for and started to make a shopping list so that Christiane and I could get all that was needed.

My Original Menu

1. Pumpkin Pie

2. Stuffing

3. Turkey

4. Green Bean Casserole

5. Sweet Potatoes with Marshmallows

6. Salad

7. Mashed Potatoes & Gravy

After a few trips to a couple different stores it became apparent that I wasn't going to be able to get my hands on certain American products. Many we could find a substitute (like using sunflower oil instead of vegetable oil), but many there were just no substitutes for. Like pumpkin puree. So I had to switch up my menu a bit.

My Official Menu

1. Apple Pie (couldn't find pumpkin puree)

 2. Stuffing

3. Chicken (not a turkey in sight)

4. Green Bean Casserole (I ended up having to make my own French onions for the top)

5. Sweet Potatoes with "Marshmallows" (we had to resort to the German version of them which were pink) (this is my Grandma's recipe, so unlike the others it has no link to the actual recipe)

6. Cranberry Salad

(note: I vetoed the mashed potatoes and gravy considering we didn't want to be eating too many potatoes)

Thanksgiving came. And then all of the sudden I realized that I was cooking an entire Thanksgiving meal by myself. And I don't consider myself the most amazing cook. I just about died of laughter at that moment as I realized that I had actually decided to take on something this ludicrous.

Unlike most afternoons, I didn't have to watch the girls. I spent the whole afternoon and early evening cooking away like fiend.

Now, I know you are thinking, "Ashley, you just had to follow some very simple recipes!" Well, let me remind you of these two facts: 1. I was the only one cooking 2. I had to convert from the imperial system to the metric system 3. I somehow always manage to screw up even with a recipe. I just had to trust that my "instincts" would kick in and I wouldn't totally fail at making this dinner turn out yummy.

Towards the end of my cooking Christiane hopped in to help me with the last few things (she pretty much made the sweet potatoes). While she was sitting at the kitchen table mashing sweet potatoes, I was in the kitchen confronting a dead chicken. A dead chicken with it's legs still attached. I was thinking some very vegetarian thoughts looking at that thing. I mean it still had some of it's feathers! Gross. All I could think was back in high school biology when I had to dissect a frog and it turned out to have like hundreds of frog spawn in it's abdomen. Ugggh I will never wipe that image from my brain. Thankfully Johannes stepped in and then prepared and cooked it for me.

With Johannes and Christiane's help I was able to pull it all together and serve my German family a authentic American Thanksgiving dinner. They loved all the food! Johannes enjoyed the homemade French onions the best. Christiane really like several of the dishes; especially the stuffing. And Martha and Frieda devoured the apple pie.

Me and my creations.

I came away from the day extremely tired, but extremely proud of myself and my achievement. I fell asleep right as my head hit the pillow. And no. I didn't have any dreams of gobbling turkeys. Although, that would have been pretty awesome.

Sankt Martins Tag

I love holidays. If there is a holiday to celebrate, no matter what it is, I am so there! So when I heard that I would be celebrating my first truly German holiday, you can imagine my excitement.

Sankt Martins Tag (or in English... Saint Martin's Day), is a day where little kids make lanterns and then parade around in groups (usually you go in a group from your school or church) singing songs. The parades usually end up at big outdoor bonfires where you have bread and drinks. This day is to remember Sankt Martin, a kind and generous man, who was a Roman solider, monk, and then Bishop (against his wishes). He is best known for the legend that he (while a solider) on a cold Winter's night, cut his cloak in half to give it to a beggar. I never really got how the lantern's became a part of the tradition of the day, but I am sure there is a very good explanation somewhere. You will have to investigate that one on your own folks.

This holiday is celebrated on November 11th. Which is strange to me because all my life I have know that day by a different holiday: Veteran's Day (It was also a cool day because it was 11/11/11, but that's besides the point). So, as weird as it was not celebrating Veteran's Day, I enjoyed a very fun Sankt Martins Tag!

So for Sankt Martins you need one thing: a lantern. I was the one who went out to find pre-made lanterns. Which wasn't a difficult task. I found them at Papier Fischer (the coolest paper store everrr). I stood there a good fifteen minutes debating on colors and sizes of the lanterns. Finally I picked two big ones, one red and the other yellow.

The next day the girls, Christiane, Oma (Christiane's mom), and I sat down at kitchen table to make the lanterns. Even though they are "pre-made" you still have to assemble and decorate them. Martha chose the yellow lantern and got right to work. Frieda on the other hand, wanted nothing to do with lantern making. She was supposed to go to her school's parade that day but ended up not going because she was so upset by the whole thing. So I made the red lantern for her because she could use it in Martha's school's parade the next day.

The next evening we went to Martha's school for the parade. A colorful crowd had assembled in the schoolyard: kids in bright colored jackets running around with beautiful lanterns, while their parents chatted and kept an eye on them. After a quick set of instructions from the principle, everyone started lighting their lanterns and heading out into the twilight.

The parade sets out into the twilight.

The parade in motion.

Oma pushed Frieda in the stroller, who was clingy tightly to her unlit lantern. We didn't light it because we didn't want her burning up the lantern on accident. Christiane and I stayed near the stroller while trying to keep an eye on Martha who had bounded ahead of us to walk with her friends.

I, being a total kid, got to carry a lantern! I was quite pleased. I hadn't wanted to miss out on the fun just because I was a "grown up". The lantern that I used was one that Frieda made in Kindergarten. Which of course she never used since she didn't go to her school's parade. And Frieda was carrying the one that I made her the day before. So it was the extra lantern that became mine.

My lantern.

Our parade route was a walk through the park behind the school. Which was a really pretty walk, especially as the darkness fell all around us. We stopped at certain places to sing songs. My favorite song of the night is called, "Ich geh' mit meiner Laterne." It's has quite the catchy tune. In fact, it was stuck in my head for several days after. Another song that we sang was appropriately called, "Sankt Martin."

"Ich ge' mit meiner Laterne" lyrics and notes.

"Sankt Martin" lyrics and notes.

 So, after a good fifteen minutes we found ourselves at a big bonfire. Everyone circled up around it and began to sing again. This was my favorite part of the whole night. It was utterly dark except the fire; and completely silent except for the voices of children and grown ups alike that pierced the night air. I almost felt like I had taken a step back in time. There was something so primitive, yet so beautiful about the whole scene. I wanted to linger in this moment. I was caught up in it's magic.

The bonfire.

Once the last note was sung, everyone converged on the snack and drink table. Martha grabbed everyone rolls, and we munched on them for a few minutes before deciding to go home.

The whole way home I found myself singing "Ich geh' mit meiner Laterne." I didn't want the night to end. It was too magical. Yet, the night slipped through my fingers and I found myself waking up to just a normal Saturday morning.