A Walk in the Black Forrest

That is one of my favorite LeRoy Anderson songs of all time, thank you Mother.

You know what’s awesome about traveling? How extremely unprepared we are for just about everything.

We got here on Sunday in the middle of a snowstorm. For starters no one told me that we were heading up in elevation. For seconds, my weatherman (usually spot on) was right with the “cold and sunny” part but totally missed the “wild snowstorm” bit. We’re doing two feet of snow in sneakers.

When I think of all the &%#$ snow clothes sitting in a bin in my garage…

Thanks to our awesome time share hookup we picked up seven nights for $300, two bedrooms two bath, and all the comforts of home plus a pool. Frankly, judging by today’s field trip I’m wondering why we didn’t just stay at the condo all day long.

Our week came with free train fare so we decided to choo choo off to Freiberg for their magical Christmas festival. We were certain the kids would love taking the train and woke this morning with holiday aniticipation coursing through our veins. Let me tell you, it was a waste of anticipation.

Poor June’s boots were too small (she left her good ones at preschool) so for the first two hours of the morning, amid the loading and unloading of numerous modes of transportation, her boots kept sliding off. And so she wined. And whined and whined and pestered and poked and OH MY GOSH WHY DO WE EVEN TRY TO TRAVEL?

By the time we finally pulled into Freiberg Rex was hungry (they all wanted McDonald’s), Georgia was hot (the only kid I brought a snow suit for) Jason was walking really fast (always a bad sign) and all I could think about was the missing 50 euro bill that had somehow evacuated my pocket (I kept that small piece of information to myself).

The Christmas market was good. We didn’t lose any kids and although the funnel cake was good, the hot chocolate burned my tastebuds clean off and I didn’t get any of the German dumplings with Vanilla cream that I love so much. Yes, we got June new boots. No, her behavior didn’t improve from that point on.

It was cold and I spent the day following the trail of discarded mittens my kids couldn’t commit to. By the time we got home tonight all I wanted was a hot bath and a back that wasn’t aching from stress-induced disk slippage.

I did get a super cute pair of jeans that Jason made me stop and try on. Good man, always looking out for Mama’s happiness. It’s been forever since I had jeans that I love and I think these were sent from Heaven just for me.

Tomorrow we’re going to Triberg to discover the wonders of the cuckoo clock. Despite today’s misadventure, I’m kind of excited. Don’t ask me why but day one of vacation is always a wash with my kids. I’ve got a good feeling about tomorrow.

 

 


Comments

  1. woo! what.a.day. but man to score great jeans is wonderful. must know the brand! keep us posted on that. here’s the best wishes for tomorrow’s adventures. despite all we endured on day one, count your stars that you didn’t live MY adventure of yesterday with consisted of 9+ hours of doctors & hospitals as we tried to figure out if mini-me was suffering from the early stages of appendicitis or from a ruptured ovarian cyst. turns out they think its neither, but we’re supposed to watch her like a hawk in case her situation worsens. as reassuring as it is that we all think its neither, its very disheartening to not know what it is that dropped her right there in the middle of the bball court at practice yesterday. we’re talking curled up in the fetal position & bawling kinda pain. they asked the typical question of pain-scaled from 0 to 10, she rated it a 15. yeah, so she’s rested all day today, avoided the contrast dye CT scan luckily, and is headed to her game this evening in full garb to pretty much sit the bench, “just in case.” poor gal. NOT.FUN.to.the.max. ::hugs::

  2. apparently i can’t type or read my own typing before submitting today. pooh! i’m hoping you can understand all that i typed and what it SHOULD’VE meant. thanks for your reading-patience.
    ::double-hugs::