Moving in and Adjusting

Greetings again from across the Atlantic!

(I wrote this the first week of November but am just now publishing it)

This warm, sunny day finds me still lying flat on my back in bed typing this but from the comfort of our new home!!! And the good news is that our household things were delivered this past Friday morning so we got out of the hotel in Maichingen AND my back hurts less and less and I find myself able to stand and sit for longer periods of time and with less pain with each passing day. It is hard to sit (or lay) amidst boxes and not really be able to do much about unpacking them, but I know we will get settled eventually. It just will take a little longer this time around.


These last almost 4 weeks in the hotel were quite a challenge as you would expect. Living in a small 2 bedroom hotel apartment with one bathroom for six people has given us moments of laughter and moments of great frustration. And trying to keep everyone fed more cheaply by cooking our own food in a kitchen with no stove and no oven has also been interesting. We got quite creative with our ONE stove burner and also we purchased a rice cooker/steamer and an electric griddle which helped. We also borrowed a crock-pot from friends just down the road so that helped with our cooking options as well. I can proudly say that we didn’t eat a single serving of hamburger helper this time around.


Anyway, this time together has been a blessing in disguise in so many ways. It has been great to spend time listening to music with my son, and watching my younger daughters be creative in their leisure time with no toys. The little girls have spent time knitting, building forts, playing hide n’ seek, and creatively made houses and nests and rooms out of luggage, tables, chairs, boxes, wads of paper, blankets, and anything else they could manage to move and manipulate while living in the hotel. We were also able to watch an occasional movie on one of the laptops for entertainment.

Elizabeth has had to hardest time adjusting to the new time and place but that is mostly because Elizabeth is choosing to have the hardest time adjusting. L So, many life lessons here. Cory and I had a great discussion with Phillip and asked him what he learned the last time around when we moved here and it took him a while but finally he said, “You know, I think I cut myself off from everyone and was depressed because I chose to be depressed and chose to cut myself off from everyone.” Now that took Phillip at least 2 years and some hard life lessons to get that point of realization, so we will continue to be patient with Elizabeth as she adjusts to life here in Germany.

So, normally our days here, whether in the hotel or in our house, go like this: we get up and do school, eat lunch, and then the little girls go outside and play at the park or take a walk to the bakery or bio market with their big brother or now we unpack boxes and try to fit all our American furniture into our German house. It is kind of like a puzzle to try and figure out where we can put the bookshelves, dressers, shrunks (wardrobe closets), desks, etc. since we are working around multiple, large windows, radiator heating, entrance doors in every room and sometime slanted ceilings. Every single door in the house also has a key which is going to be a challenge to keep track of those! Cory is the tetras master and this skill helps immensely with making every piece of furniture fit just in the right spot!

I will try and get some photos of the rooms in the house uploaded now that we actually have furniture---Yay!

Airplane Trip to Germany

After taking stronger prescription pain pills on Thursday night I was much improved on Friday and so began planning to take the plane trip to Germany with my kids on Saturday. Some good friends, the Brandsma family, came and picked us and most our luggage up in their suburban to help Cory’s Mom get us to the airport in one trip. Once there, we checked ourselves and our luggage at the counter, went through security and then Phillip, Mariel and Grace took a detour to Quiznos to get some lunch while Elizabeth, Cloie cat and I headed for the gate. Once at the gate, it was clear that the plane was already boarding and my other kids were nowhere in sight. So, I stayed with the luggage and the cat and sent Elizabeth sprinting off to call the kids to the airplane gate as fast as they could run. Everyone else had already boarded and they were giving the final boarding announcement when all the kids came running up.

In all the chaos of checking in and boarding, I had forgotten to take my next doses of medicine on time. Therefore, by the time I found my seat on the airplane I was in excruciating pain. I quickly asked the flight attendant for a glass of water and took some medication before the plane pushed back from the gate. Luckily the airplane was more than half empty so once we got up to cruising altitude, I lifted myself up and hobbled over to the nearest empty row and laid flat on my back across three seats to get some relief from the pain.

By the time our flight landed in Salt Lake City, my medication had begun to kick in and I was feeling much better. We were able to walk leisurely to our connecting flight’s departure gate which was close by and we hung out there for the next two hours. In the gate waiting area there was plenty of room for me to lay down on my back and rest. The next leg of our trip was almost 10 hours as we were flying from Salt Lake City to Paris, France so I knew it would be a while before I was able to lie down again. Phillip found an electrical outlet to plug in his laptop and my older kids took turns checking email and logging into Facebook and then they watched a movie via Netflix with the younger girls. Then we boarded our next plane bound for Europe.

The long flight went rather well for us all. Our cat slept through most of it while we watched a couple of movies and ate dinner. I had brought along an empty, quart-size Ziploc bag and asked the flight attendant to fill it with ice. This I put behind my back to help with the pain and stiffness. Eventually I had to dump out the melted ice and water but it worked great while it lasted. The only negative side to this home remedy was my backside being all wet from the condensation of water to the bag. By the time the third movie was showing, we were all tired and dozing off, which was good as it was an R rated movie that I didn’t want the little girls to watch. I took away their headphones and they eventually drifted off to sleep. When we were being served breakfast, I knew we were getting close to our destination but I let Mariel and Grace continue sleeping and I kept their breakfast for them until they awoke.

When we touched down in Paris, I needed Phillip to retrieve all the bags from the overhead bins as I wasn’t suppose to lift anything and Elizabeth had her hands full with the cat and her own bag. But, our bags had gotten stashed on all sides of the plane, wherever there was room. So, we just had to wait while Phillip dodged in and out of the stream of passengers trying to exit while pulling bags down. Once we had everything then we exited quickly as we only had just over an hour to make our connecting flight. It just so happens that our connecting gate was D60, at the farthest possible point from where our flight had just landed. We didn’t know that at the time, but we just kept following the signs to the D gates around corners, along corridors, and through moving sidewalks. Finally, it looked like we were exiting the airport completely and it occurred to us that we were going to have to go through security to get to our gate. That is when I started praying that we could make this connecting flight.

Sure enough, as we rounded the last corner we spotted the security line that we had to navigate before being able to board the airplane and it looked menacing. There were security folks stationed at almost every corner of the lines and they were asking to see boarding passes. I kept showing them my baggage claim tickets that had the destination airport as Stuttgart, Germany but I didn’t have boarding passes or even a ticket to show as ours was an electronic ticket. When we were all the way up to the scanner and had all our items in bins and were going to walk through the security checkpoint they asked to see our boarding passes which we didn’t have. Then the security officer told us to take all our things off the conveyor belt and get out of line. We piled all our stuff in the middle of the floor right there at the security checkpoint and the officer told me to leave everything there and go over to the nearest airline desk and get boarding passes, which I did. Then we had to again place all our stuff in bins and go through security to be able to get to our gate to board in time. Thankfully, we made it there just as the airplane was boarding.

Our one consolation in all this chaos at the Charles De Gaulle airport in Paris was that the ticketing agent gave us seats in first class since there were five seats together across the airplane in row four. So, for the last leg of our flight, we were served shrimp cocktail and salmon pâté along with blue cheese, a breadstick and dessert. We were also offered complimentary wine and beer but graciously declined. When we landed in Stuttgart, Germany we went straight to baggage claim and waited for all our luggage to appear. When the conveyor belt stopped we were still missing a bag so we had to stay there and report our missing bag at the baggage counter. We were last in line behind several others and had no way to contact Cory and explain to him where we were or what we were doing. As we waited in line, two uniformed policemen approached us and asked my name. I answered, “Angela.” and the officer looked confused until I added, “Isakson.” He then nodded and smiled and said there were two persons inquiring about the Isaksons’ whereabouts. Forty-five minutes later than scheduled we finally walked out of baggage claim and into Cory’s arms.

Last Week's Challenges

The Saturday before last in the morning friends showed up bright and early to help us clean our house and get it ready for renters. In spite of reading the email three times and it said, "Is 9:00AM too early?" I kept reading it as 9:30AM and said, "That would be great, we'll be ready for you." So, at 8:55AM my doorbell rings while I am lying in bed thinking I need to get up to shower. As I opened the door standing there in my pajamas, I was greeted by all six members of the Lee family with vacuum, broom, and rags in hand! They were such awesome workers and had the place almost whipped into shape by lunchtime.

My back was aching but I didn’t pay much attention as there was much to be done. The next morning my lower back muscles were really hurting and again I ignored them and pushed on through the day so we could go spend some time with the Boise Families Fellowship and say goodbye to some dear friends. Well, by Sunday afternoon, those same lower back muscles were screaming in pain and by Sunday evening I couldn’t even stand up straight or walk.

Sunday night, I ended up crawling up the stairs to bed. And in the morning when I again couldn’t stand up, I ended up sliding/crawling down the stairs face-first (yes, it was a stupid move, I now admit) and there I stayed flat on the floor for the next three days. I did call into the doctor’s office on Monday and he prescribed a muscle relaxant that Phillip drove to the pharmacy and picked up for me. Each day I was hoping for just a slight improvement but none came and my hopes of getting on an airplane to fly to Germany at the end of the week began to wane.

Thankfully, my wonderful mother-in-law called and offered to drive down to Boise and help me and the kids try and get ready to leave the country. She arrived on Wednesday afternoon and immediately starting nursing me back to health, playing with the little girls and working through my task list of what needed to be done before we left the country. On Thursday and Friday Connie spent much of those days driving me around to doctor appointments to try and get me up and walking so I could get on the airplane on Saturday.

Chapter Twenty-nine: Germany; Our Home Away From Home

Living overseas in a foreign country is quite different than just traveling there as a tourist. A tourist is just visiting and passes through in a short time. Our experience was different. We took our family and moved there. We had to find a rental house, a car to drive and pass a driving exam to get a foreign driver’s license. We also had to learn how to run a German washing machine and dryer. We had to locate a store to buy things; food, furniture, small appliances, shoes, etc. And we had to figure out where to go to get phone and internet services and other basic utilities hooked up or transferred into our names. And we had to accomplish all of this within a country that spoke a foreign language we did not know. Our one advantage was that since my husband was a contractor to the Department of Defense (DOD), we did have the option to shop on the local military bases.

We had begun learning a bit of German before we actually moved there. We knew a few small words like “nein” for no, “ja” for yes, “mais” for corn and “hallo” for hello. That was about it. Fortunately for us, the German people are patient, gracious and tend to know a little English. Our survival phrase those first few months was, “Sprechen Sie Englisch, Bitte?” (Do you speak English, please?)

And they would usually reply humbly with, “Yes, a little bit.” Well, I am here to say that hands down their “little bit” was more than quite a bit and usually enough to get us pointed in the right direction, standing in the correct line or even get our questions answered completely. We were impressed!

One of the largest differences between America and Germany is their land usage. Germany still has clear cut borders between farms, towns, and forests. There really are no suburbs or urban sprawl in Germany. Thus, Americans drive everywhere while Germans walk. Most Germans live in small towns and villages and they are able to walk almost everywhere within their own town. Germans do own cars, very well-engineered cars, and they use them. However, gasoline (petrol) is tremendously expensive and if they are going somewhere, they often walk or take public transportation.

In our town in Germany we could walk to several bakeries, the library, the bank, the electronics and small appliance shop, the grocery store, the park, the post office and the local ice-cream parlor. There were often limited parking options at these places so it just made sense to walk. It was wonderfully refreshing to use my legs for their God-given purpose on a daily basis. This is the norm in Germany. Now that we are back in the states, I have to get into a car and drive to get to any of the previously mentioned places. Just a week ago Saturday, I found myself in a car driving several miles each way to return a library book, buy one needed item at the grocery store and to return a rented video. I sat in my car at a stoplight while running these errands and looked around at cars full of people in every direction and parking lots full of cars and thought, this is just so wrong. Why can’t we build towns that require the use of our legs anymore?

Then yesterday, our family delivered a meal to some friends with a newborn daughter and four other young children in their family. These particular friends live on acreage in a small town here in our area. They built a house right next door to their parents on the same property. They are a wonderful, fun, young family and my kids like to drive out to their “farm” to visit on occasion. Well, on this particular visit, it just so happens that I managed to slip and twist my ankle on the front door mat and I needed some Ibuprofen for the pain and swelling. My friend was out of Ibuprofen so she called her Mom and her Mom brought me over some Motrin to take instead. But here’s the thing; her Mom actually jumped on a 4-wheeler and drove the Motrin bottle over to me 50 yards away (at most) and back! Now, that is purely, 100%-American. I am almost at a loss for words when it takes a 4-wheeler to deliver a bottle of Motrin next door. Don’t get me wrong, I was thankful she was willing to bring it, but whatever happened to walking? America has got to be the #1 laziest nation on the planet! No wonder we are overwhelming obese as a country. We just do not walk hardly anywhere, any more, unless you count perusing the aisles at Wal-Mart or jaunts to and from the store from the parking lot.

I feel fortunate to know that other people live differently in this respect. This knowledge can be frustrating at times in this drive-through-crazed nation, but somehow there is even some comfort in the outrage at our dependence and wastefulness of oil in connection with the automobile. Somehow I tend to see this absurdity now more clearly. These were the kinds of lessons learned by living in another place on another continent and not just by being a tourist there.

And just to be fair, there were things about America that we missed. We missed Charmin, our double kitchen sink, a washing machine with a 20-minute-washing cycle, having a freezer larger than a breadbox, being able to read the road signs, being able to stand upright at any point in our house including the upstairs without hitting our heads on the ceiling.

But there is great freedom in residing in someone else’s culture, for a time, and just being an observer. It was not our culture so we could simply observe and analyze but we did not have to necessarily partake. This was not our home country thus; we were not going to be here forever so we just did not get too worked up over the small stuff. These are fabulous lessons with terrific parallels for the Christian life. For we, as Christians, are truly living in another culture no matter our home country. We will not be here forever and thus this world is not our home so maybe we should not get too worked up over the small stuff.

Well, even though Germany was not our true home country or culture, we quickly grew fond of their daily pace of life and routine; church bells clanging every hour, everything closing by 6pm and the incredible peaceful and dead quiet of the nights. Thus, it became our home away from home. When we crossed borders into other countries, there was always this sense of relief when we re-entered Germany. It was familiar. We knew what to expect, where to find things, and how to read the road signs. In small and subtle ways, their norms became our norms and we were changed by the experience. I do not think we even realized this until we left and returned home to America, but Germany will forever hold a fondness in our hearts because of this familiarity. It will always be my home away from home this side of heaven.

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Faith and Contentment

In all our preparations to move overseas and in the actual transition, I tried not to get overwhelmed or stressed out. I also tried not to fret and worry but I think (looking back now) that I failed at this continually. This was a huge leap into the unknown for our family. It was, at times, overwhelming and frustrating. And at other times it was just down-right scary to up and move our family to a foreign country to which I had never even been before. I had seen pictures and perused websites and I knew people living there but that is still all secondhand knowledge without any first person experience. Thus, at times, I worried. How would we communicate without knowing any German? How would we find a place to live without being able to communicate? How would my kids fair without any of their family or friends nearby? These were some of the overriding concerns along with more immediate ones like ‘How will my two and five year old children endure the all day and all night flight getting there?’ How will I keep them entertained and occupied in a hotel all day long? And will all our things in the shipping container actually arrive undamaged?

We were confident that the Lord knew our needs and concerns and we laid them before Him in prayer. But, I must confess, that I did not leave them there at His feet. I tried. But I think I failed and fretted and worried about some of these things that were so completely out of my control. I also tried keeping myself busy with endless task lists to keep my mind from worry. Sometimes it worked and probably sometimes it did not. There was much to keep busy with in those days. I would cross off one thing (like make a doctor’s appointment) only to add three more (like buy luggage, call the insurance agent, and donate unneeded items). But eventually, we did get on that plane and the “to do” list was tossed into the garbage and we were on our way to Germany at last! And then, a whole new “to do” list suddenly emerged that we never could have anticipated and the process was begun anew again on another continent. And, once again, I prayed and tried not to fret and probably failed repeatedly.

As we were settling into our new home and community across the ocean, we all missed our friends and family back home terribly. Our family had lived in the same city, in the same neighborhood, and in the same house for the previous nine years, so this was a BIG change for us all. And even though my husband had signed a two-year contract with his employer in Germany, we knew that when we eventually headed back to the states we would most likely head back to Boise, Idaho from which we had come. It was close to extended family and after nine years somewhere, you develop quite a few friends, and we had kept our two houses and rented them both. Thus, we kept in touch with family and friends back in and around Boise while living in Germany. I sent home email updates, set up a photo sharing website, and began a BLOG for those back in the states.

But again, I must confess, that looking back it feels like I spent much of my time and energy maintaining those relationships and even longing for those back home. And then, once we moved back (unexpectedly early—long before the two years were up) I think I spent much of the first six months missing those new friends back in Germany! Looking back it feels like a failed lesson in contentment on my part. Being a kid who grew up on Star Wars, I like to call it the Luke Skywalker lesson of attentiveness. I can hear Yoda’s voice chastising Luke by saying, “This one I have watched for a long time. And his mind is never on where he is and what he is doing!”

Now, I certainly don’t believe in an impersonal “Force” or that God speaks in a Yoda-voice. But, I have felt His correcting nudge in my life and heard similar words of rebuke in my head and heart. Sometimes I miss living in the moment because my attention is elsewhere. This is a mistake I have seen others make repeatedly and one I thought I might never be guilty of doing. How wrong I was!

I had a childhood friend who I met near the end of grade school who could not wait to get to Junior High. Once in Junior High, she was already wishing for High School and then in High School she was already longing for College. I lost touch with her between High School and College and when I ran into her again in College, once again, she was already focusing intently on the post-College plans of her life. I just never wanted to be like that; always wishing my life away. And yet, I certainly think I was guilty of that very thing during our time overseas. It wasn’t that I did not want to be there. Quite the contrary! I had hoped and prayed and planned for the day. But, when it came, I think I underestimated the complete cost of uprooting my family and moving them far away to another continent. It was a grand adventure but a slightly lonesome one too.

After further reflection, I realize that I was being pretty tough on myself when I first transcribed these words on paper. Part of my longing for friendships back in Idaho while residing in Germany, was partly just because I was in the process of making friends over there while those friends “back home” already knew us, understood us and no long explanation was required. And then when we returned to the states, the reverse happened. Suddenly when trying to share a funny or interesting experience of living overseas with a friend, there was so much context and culture to have to explain and still they often just did not get it. Or, when I started to share something, I would often see a friend’s eyes glaze over or that look in their eye telling me that they really were not interested in knowing. This was tough. But, my friends back in Germany would so understand and would so care to hear and know because they had been there and experienced it. So, once again, it was a lonely existence for a time. So, maybe just maybe it wasn’t ALL about discontent—I’m sure there was some of that. But, it was also about belonging and being understood, which as a friend so aptly said, “Is a great luxury that one does not always possess.”

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Living Lighter

Part of the joyful experience of moving overseas was taking only about two thirds of our belongings with us. I wish we could say we took less. It would have been much easier; especially in light of the fact that we only ended up staying about seven and a half months. In hind-sight we should have stored almost everything, packed our suitcases and left.

But evening leaving one third of our possessions behind was a wonderful experience. I don’t recall missing a single item in storage while there and by the time our storage items were re-delivered, almost a year later, I had forgotten most of what we had packed away to begin with. For a few precious months, there was less to pick up, clean up, keep up, fix up and pack up. It was liberating. Since we did not own our house in Germany we didn’t have a myriad of home improvement or fix-it projects hanging over our heads. And thus felt available to pack a suitcase or just a picnic lunch for a day trip and leave to go sightseeing or exploring for a weekend--guilt free!

We lived with only items from our suitcases for six weeks in a German hotel and for another six weeks back in Idaho both going and coming. You just don’t realize how many possessions including houses, cars, pets and yards clamor for your attention and suck away time and energy until you have lived without them for a time.

Now that we are back living on American soil in a large house and garage filled-to-the-brim with stuff, we are once again overwhelmed at trying to manage and clean and fix and organize it all. And so we keep boxing it up and getting rid of it via donations and it feels like we have barely made a dent. But we keep trying because we remember how invigorating it was to live lighter for one (school) year.

Chapter Twenty-Six: Internet Bargain Hotel

Before we moved back from Germany I wanted to take the kids on one last trip. We were already in Europe and I knew, as a family of six, that we would not make it back there anytime soon. So, we began looking around at nearby places to visit and ended up finding some pre-summer sale prices at Euro Disney. We were able to book several nights stay at Disney’s Davy Crocket Ranch but we couldn’t find another affordable hotel for the very last night that we wanted to be there. Since we were purchasing multiday, park-hopper passes, we thought we would just get there and surely something else would open up in the meantime.

After the movers came and packed up our household belongings, we drove over to Euro Disney just outside of Paris. We got all checked in and settled but by the time we did, Disney had no vacancies for any hotel for the last night we wanted to stay. Luckily we had brought my husband’s laptop computer with us but found the only internet access at Disneyland was at their Hotel New York. Thus, we located the hotel, went into the lobby, opened the laptop and began searching for a nearby affordable hotel outside of Paris for a family of six for one night. We actually found several but all of them would require us to rent 2 or 3 rooms to sleep us all. So, sight unseen, we made an online reservation for the cheapest one.

The next morning we packed up and checked out of the Davey Crockett Ranch and headed into Disneyland for the day. That evening we drove off to find our hotel for the night. Our trusty GPS finally got us there. We were the last to check in at about 9pm that night and the manager working the front desk had stayed open waiting for us. We parked our van in the gated, secure parking lot provided after unloading and checking into the rooms. We had to split into three rooms of two each for the night. So, my husband took a room with the six-year-old, I slept in a room with the two-year-old, and our other son (age 14) and daughter (age 11) shared a room with twin beds.

The hotel wasn’t fancy or nice; it was just a place to sleep for the night. The bathroom was tiled floor to ceiling since it doubled as the shower as well. We stayed on the bottom floor so even though it was a bit stuffy, I didn’t open the window, as the window was large enough and low enough for someone to walk through into the room. We sank deeply into our foam mattresses as we drifted off to sleep. I would compare this hotel to a Super 8 or a Motel 6 back here in the states but those, while simple but adequate, are usually at least clean. And the crowning moment came when I tried to key into my room for the first time and the door handle fell off into my hand. I stood there holding the door handle, thinking, “Well, that certainly makes me feel safe!” The door handle was to fall off into my hand again after saying goodnight to my other kids and trying to key back into my room. Every time it happened again, I would stand there with the door knob in my hand, shaking my head, thinking, “What a bargain hotel Cory discovered!”

Chapter Twenty-Five: The Shower Fiasco

Our next to last weekend in Germany, my Dad and oldest brother were able to swing through to stay with us a couple of nights and see our little town and area where we lived. They had been on a ten-day tour across London and France to see some of the major battlefields and monuments from WWI and WWII; my brother’s lifelong dream. They made the trip with my brother’s wife and my Dad’s girlfriend and the four of them seemed to have a great time touring famous places such as Westminster Abbey, Buckingham Palace, the Eiffel Tour, the Louvre and the Palace of Versailles along with the famous battlefields and beaches across France.

They arrived on a Thursday evening in time for dinner and they were thankful to get out of the car after hours driving on the Autobahn, to sit down to a meal in a house, do a load of laundry and just relax. The next day they had decided that a trip into the Black Forest area would be enjoyable so we set about soon after breakfast to pack up drinks and snacks and cameras and jackets for a drive into the Schwartzwald for a day of sightseeing.

As we were backing the cars out of the driveway a man walked up and introduced himself as an employee of the Deutsches Rotes Kreuz (German Red Cross). He was here to assess our couch that we wanted to donate. So we let him in and five minutes later he was on his way out again after handing us another person’s name and phone number for scheduling the donation pick up. Thus, we jumped back into our cars and started backing out again when a huge tanker truck pulled up and blocked our way. We got out of our cars again and spoke with the driver and realized that this was the oil delivery truck here to refill our oil heating tank since we were packing up and moving out in a few days. So, we waved on my Dad and brother and stayed behind while the man turned our heater off and filled the oil tank. When he finished, he told us not to turn the water heater back on for several hours. So, when he left, we once again piled into the van and off we headed down the autobahn to meet my family in Triberg in the Black Forest.

Triberg is a small but highly touristy town that is known for Germany’s highest waterfalls and the world’s largest cuckoo clock. We had a wonderful day in there, walking around, lunching at an outdoor café, sightseeing and cuckoo clock shopping. After lunch, when my family decided to take a trip through the local Schwartzwald Museum, that we had already seen, we headed to the outdoor playground by the entrance to the waterfall. The girls and I swung and climbed and rested in the shade while Cory headed up the hill to hike around with our son. They headed up a trail and then happened upon an outdoor climbing park complete with zip lines in the trees around Triberg. Since it was our son’s 14th birthday that day, they paid their money and geared up and spent an hour or so climbing and sailing through the trees.

When we finally drove back home to our town, we fed the kids leftovers, got them ready for bed and put a movie on the T.V. Then the adults headed out to dinner to the nearby town of Weil der Stadt. We drove into the city and parked near the old city wall. We walked around the marktplatz until we found a crowed Gästehaus. This is a small, usually family-owned and run restaurant with good food and a warm atmosphere. There we partook of a tasty traditional German dinner before finally heading back home late. My Dad, brother and company were heading out early to catch a nearly 6AM flight back to the states. So, they made sure to pack up and gather their luggage and belongings for that early departure. My sister-in-law and my Dad’s girlfriend, Diane, even took showers that night just to be more prepared to leave come morning but they failed to mention to us that the water temperature wasn’t hot. In fact, it was closer to lukewarm by the end of their quick showers. Everyone went to bed and Cory and I didn’t get up until long after they all departed. We were greeted by a small, perplexing, scrawled note on the counter, near the coffee pot that said simply, “Thanks for everything.” And, “Heater might be off.”

Well, as soon as we read it over, we suddenly looked at each other in an “ah ha,” kind of moment and my husband said, “The water heater! It never got turned back on after the oil tank was filled.” Well, sure enough, we went to the basement and everything was in the “off” position. So, later my brother informed us that his shower was less than lukewarm and then my poor Dad was the last to shower that morning and he had to endure an icy cold shower in my house before leaving! We felt awful. In the business of the day and evening we had just completely forgotten to turn back on the water heater for our company. I'm so sorry about that Dad!!!

Chapter Twenty-Four: Back to Boise we go!

On May 3rd, just six and a half months after entering Germany, my husband was given the choice to voluntarily resign his job or continue to be fired. Thus, his job duties ended voluntarily that day and the company resigned a new contract with him and they moved us back to Boise. I was glad the stress ended for my dear husband but I cried for at least a week. How I miss Germany and the people there!!!

So, our return to the states was sudden and unexpected AND almost completely out of our control. Cory didn’t ever quite understand his supervisor, Glen, over there and they were two completely opposite people. Thus, there was conflict. And as much as Cory tried to understand what his supervisor was saying, meaning, and at times demanding, with clarifying questions and such; Glen took even the clarifying questions as disobedience and disrespect. And then when Cory went to Glen’s supervisor for help, Glen proceeded to write up Cory for insubordination and then proceeded to try and fire him.

In hindsight, we had arrived in Germany right during some huge upheavals with the military community. There was a push to transfer many of the contract positions into GS (Government Service) positions. There were also changes afoot with the EUCOM (European Command) spinning off a separate division into AfriCOM to oversee that continent and the intervention and operations there.

But ultimately, Cory and his supervisor, Glen, were just from very diverse backgrounds. We had come from the west coast and Cory was more used to the Microsoft, hands-off management style while Glen was from the East coast and used to the very structured, top-down, Military-style management. Glen wanted a yes-man, not a problem solver with solutions. Cory kept getting into trouble for fixing things and proposing solutions to IT problems because that was very threatening to someone like Glen who liked to be in control of everyone at every moment.

This job trauma all played out from about mid February to early May. Cory was able to contact the HR department and submit to them that everything was really a blown up misunderstanding, a twisting of the facts (because he had most communications documented) and that his supervisor was guilty of trying to fire him for retaliation (for reporting communication problems to his boss). The HR department intervened, had a short investigation and then offered Cory a way out of the contract—but that meant they would pay to ship us home—right then.

Since Cory’s supervisor, Glen, had been threatening him that if Cory was fired, we would not only have to get ourselves and our stuff home, but also we would be required to repay the contract all of our expenses for getting there (airplane tickets for six, hotel expenses for three rooms for 6 weeks, rental car for six weeks, etc. etc.) this would have left us jobless in Germany with about $50,000 of debts to repay and possibly a lawsuit on our hands to try and fight it, so we took the free ride home; but sadly. Cory looked and asked around about trying to get on another contract job there but just didn’t have enough time to find something. So, we got packed up and headed home within 30 days of the notice (part of the deal).

The whole situation was such an intense spiritual attack. It was difficult to walk through but it was amazing how God carried us and what we learned through it all. I can honestly say that I never worried about the money element (not because of my saintedness but because God just surrounded us and reassured us that if He takes such good care of the birds, would HE not care for us?). I had some great teachable moments with my kids about God’s Will because they wanted to think, well we shouldn’t have come; it must not have been God’s will to come if everything turned badly. So, I was thankful for the conversations and opportunities to teach them that our circumstances won’t always look good and that they are NOT a predictor of God’s Will—otherwise you could say the disciples or even Jesus Himself must not have been in God’ Will.

Chapter Twenty-Three: Reflections on Poland

Poland was interesting. I visited twice during our time living in Germany. Both were short trips with other friends to shop for Polish pottery in the town of Boleslawiec, Poland. The Polish countryside looks very similar to Germany but the towns and farms there look more like East Germany which still appears more economically depressed than over in the western half of the country. Thus, the farther north and east we drove in Germany from Stuttgart and the closer to the Polish border, the more drab the buildings and farms became. Everything faded into an industrial, dirty gray and pretty much stayed that way on into the country of Poland. The exceptions in Boleslawiec were the pottery shops themselves most of which were clean and brightly painted. Other than that, most of the apartment buildings, businesses, and houses were dull, dirty and run-down. People would hang out of windows staring lifelessly from between walls of peeling paint. It is always exciting to visit and explore new places and Poland was no exception to that. It was a fun, different, and sad place all rolled into one. The people were friendly and helpful and spoke some English and/or understood some German. We stayed in a bed and breakfast where a multigenerational family rented out rooms upstairs in their home as well as a separate cottage behind the house near the huge garden plot. They had a high, secure, and heavy iron gate that they locked across the driveway at night as car theft was rampant in the area. Everywhere we went, we either parked in a guarded or gated lot or in a parking lot directly in front of the large shop windows in order to keep an eye on the autos. One evening as we sat at a table inside a restaurant and had just finished ordering when my friend, Vivian, sprang to her feet and was out the door yelling in a flash! She had seen a young man near her car in the parking lot. It turns out, he simply wanted to wash the windows in exchange for some spare change but my friend shooed him away because she wasn’t taking any chances. Another lady, who accompanied us to Poland and back the first time, had been visiting that particular town in Poland periodically for the last 20 years. She and her husband had been stationed overseas much of that time and she would make sporadic trips into Poland via train or eventually by car. So, it was encouraging that even though it still seemed like many improvements were needed, she reassured us that much progress had already been made such as new roads and highways. On my second trip to Poland, I drove, so I found myself watching my own car in the parking lot more closely than on the first trip. And these window-washing boys seemed to appear out of thin air everywhere we went; restaurants, pottery shops, and even at busy intersections. The first trip had been in February and the second trip in May so that may explain the increase in solicitors the second time around. A couple of times during that second excursion, I noticed people congregating in the parking lot near my van. And both times when I stepped out of the shop door, the people drifted and/or drove away. If it had only occurred once I would have chalked it up to coincidence but since it happened more than once and both times in unsecured parking lots, I think it was more than just a coincidence; and especially since every time I simply stepped out the door, the people left the area. During one trip we drove to the town square and visited a toy shop, a crystal shop, and a material shop. While standing outside the bank, we were approached by a couple of young boys who asked us in halting English if we had any Zloty (Polish money). We honestly shook our heads, “No,” because all of the stores accepted Euros as well as Dollars. Then the boys asked for Euros and being at the end of our shopping excursion, we again said No. Then they switched to asking for dollars. When the answer was again, “No,” they quickly asked for chocolate! Once again, we laughingly shook our heads, “No,” with our empty hands in the air as the universal sign for empty-handed. After refusing them four times in a row, my friend pulled out an unopened pack of chewing gum and handed that to them as a consolation gift. Interestingly, the boys gladly grabbed it but appeared to not know what it was. As we were driving away in our car, we saw the boys huddled in a group, ripping open the package. And then, to our astonishment, they shoved several sticks of gum into their mouths, wrapper and all!! Well, of course, they spit it back out and we felt bad that our gift was spoiled and not enjoyed. It just never occurred to us that those boys wouldn’t even be familiar with chewing gum. This was one aspect of the sad side of the country of Poland.

Chapter Twenty-Two: The Polish Pottery Mix-up

Once we moved to Germany, we were quickly introduced to Polish Pottery. It is hand-made, hand painted, high quality stoneware from the city of Boleslawiec , Poland. This small city lies just a couple hundred kilometers across the border to the Southeast of Berlin. This pottery was everywhere on the American military bases in Germany. There was some in the PX and some in the Commissary and even a few smaller less expensive pieces for sale in the gas station convenience store! And, in the local American shopping mall complex, there was one entire store that sold nothing but Polish pottery imports.

The best comparison for Polish Pottery I am familiar with is either Pampered Chef stoneware or Home and Garden Party stoneware. The difference is that Polish Pottery is completely painted and glazed inside and out. Thus, it is really beautiful stoneware that is just as durable; it can go from the dishwasher to the microwave, into the oven and then onto the table as a serving piece. This pottery is quite expensive once imported to the U.S. but if you travel across the border into Poland and purchase it there, not only is there a tremendous selection but the price is much less as well. This price difference is mostly due to the exchange rate between the Polish Zloty and the Euro or the U.S. dollar. I did some price comparisons on websites while living in Germany and a typical cereal-size bowl that would cost about $30 to $40 in the United States, I could buy on the American base for about $20 or drive to Poland and purchase it there for about $8 to $10. Thus, something which is financially out of reach for most people became affordable for many just through proximity.

When Cory and I had decided that it would be fun to purchase some Polish Pottery for our new set of dishware and as a memento and reminder of our time living in Germany, we were keeping our eyes open for a sale. When the new PX opened at a nearby American base, we were in luck. The local Polish Pottery wholesaler decided to have a half-price sale. They took some seasonal pieces and mixed sets and laid them out on a table marked half off. Our family had gone to the new mall and PX store to buy some things and have a familiar fast food dinner.

We noticed the sale when we walked into the mall that Sunday afternoon but did our shopping and then fed the family first. As we were finishing our fried chicken dinner, Cory sent me there to look things over and check out the sale. The Polish Pottery store had quite a few pieces that I liked on their ½ off table. I examined several pieces and counted the plates in stacks and did some quick mental math to see how much they were charging for the sale items. The ½ off price brought the cost down closer to the prices over in Poland which was a much more attractive and doable endeavor for us. Cory briefly brought the kids over to see the pattern and price of the stoneware but then quickly disappeared again to entertain the two and five year olds elsewhere while I stood in line to purchase the pottery. We did not want to be forced to buy some broken items just to replace their inventory!!!

It was drawing towards closing time, and there was a gal in front of me also buying stacks of the stuff on sale. I heard her ask about some other matching pieces and the store staff responded that they may get some more of it on the next truckload in a few days. The lady responded that she lived several hours away by car and wouldn’t be coming back anytime that soon. When they finished bagging and wrapping her items, she left and it was my turn to pay.

Since the store was near to closing, the other clerk began to add up my order on a calculator before the other customer had finished her transaction. Then another store worker began wrapping and bagging my dishes. So, by the time the other lady finished I just had to hand over my money, get my receipt, gather up my packages, and leave. My husband and teenage son reappeared to help carry the box and bags of dishes out to the car with our other household purchases. When we returned home, we got the younger kids into bed before we unpacked and inspected the newly purchased dishes. It was no surprise to my husband that I had spent about $100 but as he unpacked things and laid them out he was surprised that there were so few plates. We unwrapped every item and laid them on the table and then double-checked the back of the van. It was empty.

We were missing almost half of what I had purchased. It just wasn’t there. I looked at my husband ashen-faced and shook my head. “The lady in front of me must have ended up with a bag of my items,” I told my husband. We were missing all of the large plates, a creamer container and the small desert plates as well. “I’m so sorry,” I said.

“Well, you’ll have to go back tomorrow and tell them that you paid for those items and didn’t receive them,” Cory said.

“Okay,” I responded, “At least I have a receipt.”

“Yeah, but it’s very non-descript. And I want the dishes or I want my money back,” He explained.

Then I broke the bad news, “Well, we might not get the dishes back because I overheard the lady in front of me say she lived several hours drive away and wasn’t planning on coming back any time soon. Plus, she just ended up with some free dishes."

“Well, then I want my money back,” retorted my husband.

“I understand. I’ll go back tomorrow and see what I can do."

I was just so disappointed because we had purchased this particular pattern because we liked it but also because there was almost an entire set of matching dishes on sale. And now I only had ½ of them. It truly ended up being a half price sale; half the money but half the dishes as well. I was hoping to make it back to Poland to purchase a few more matching pieces before we left Europe, but there was no guarantee that this would be possible.

I went back to the store and after some discussion the owner did, grudgingly, refund my money. And then about a week later, the pottery store called with the news that the dishes had been returned. So, I drove over to the next town again the following day to repurchase my returned dishes!!!

Chapter Twenty-One: Monkey Mountain

When our teenage friend, Rebecka, came to stay with us in Germany for several weeks, we managed to tour her around to several places in that short time. One of the trips we took was over to the Alsace region of France. While there for just a night and a day, we had opportunity to go to Monkey Mountain. It is a wonderful, outdoor, open-air, animal sanctuary for Barbary Macaques Monkeys that was situated in a forested area atop a large hill in the region. We started following signs to get there but soon were relying on our trusty GPS as the way was not clearly marked.

Upon arrival, we parked and walked through a large cage-like gate after paying the admission fees. We were instantly greeted by a park ranger who spoke several languages and addressed each person in a known tongue. He admonished us to tie back long hair, stow away back packs, purses, fanny packs, camera bags, etc. into available compartments especially if they contained food or snacks. Or if we wanted to keep our belongings with us, we were instructed to zip them shut and hold them close to our body at all times. We were also warned not to feed the monkeys ANYTHING except the popcorn they were about to hand us. And finally, we were instructed to NOT put the popcorn in our pockets, bags or purses, but to keep it enclosed in our fists at all times. Then we filed past to another park ranger who was doling out the popcorn by the handfuls to each person.

After that we were mostly left alone to stroll along the pathway that twisted and turned along through the forest feeding monkeys by hand along the way. The Barbary Macaques are beautiful caramel-brown, medium-sized, tailless monkeys that live in groups. These were just hanging out sitting on the low, split-rail fence along the path or climbing in trees or sleeping in the sun on the grass at the base of the trees. Some were sitting alone and others reclined in groups and yet others were running along the ground. There were adults with babies on their backs; there were females, males, young and old. There was even one that looked like a drunk sleeping off his hang-over, with mouth askew and hanging open complete with dripping drool. It was simply a delightful place! The sanctuary grounds were clean, the atmosphere enjoyable and we happened to be there on a unseasonably warm Spring day. Thus, people were sitting and lounging on stumps, stones and benches everywhere throughout the park.

About half-way through the park, the pathway widened into a large, open area and a park ranger was giving what appeared to be an oral presentation on the park or the monkeys themselves but as it was completely in French with no offered translation, I cannot be sure. This is the humorous thing about the French; they insist that you speak their language when you enter their country. Every other country in Europe where we traveled was a little more accommodating about offering interpretation options other than French. The only exception was Euro Disney in Paris. They offered and spoke a multitude of languages. Otherwise, when in France, one must speak French!

The entire afternoon we spent on Monkey Mountain, I kept thinking that something like this could never be situated in America; Land of Litigation. There were too many risks, too much interaction, and too many unknowns to be adequately contained. I could envision one disaster or mishap after another. Not that the Monkey Park was a dangerous situation; it was not. It is just that there was the potential for danger if you disregarded the rules. This is the great irony about America that one begins to understand by leaving it; it is the Land of Freedom except in regards to stupidity. Freedoms must be curtailed where stupidity might prevail; this is our American mantra. In France and Germany, this was not the case. You were told of the risks in advance and then expected to take responsibility for you own actions; which, in turn, granted us all kinds of freedom and opportunities to experience steep inclines, crumbling stairs, ancient ruins, wild playgrounds, dangerous precipices, spectacular views and even, this Monkey Mountain! We got to experience all these wonderful things that would not be possible in modern-day-sue-happy America where your own stupidity or even just plain bad luck is often considered someone else’s fault.

Chapter Twenty: The Romantic Rhine

After visiting Burg Eltz on the Mosel River, we drove back to St. Goar on the Rhine River and spent the afternoon exploring the Rheinfels Castle ruins that overlook the town. The ruins are huge and yet are estimated to be only about one third of the original castle size. It took several hours to walk through the small museum and then wander our way through most of the multiple levels of ruins.

We then spent the evening walking around and exploring the town of St. Goar. We found a couple of rooms in a small, locally-owned hotel in which to stay. Most of the small shops were already locked up for the night but we still enjoyed strolling along and window shopping. We had dinner at an outdoor café in perfect, spring weather and just enjoyed watching the children play and all the people walking past.

When we tramped downstairs the next morning to check out, most of the other hotel guests were just eating breakfast in the adjoining room. I guess we presented quite a sight with all of us trouping down and out of the hotel because they all looked up and watched us exit. We had our four kids in tow along with 15-year-old Rebecka so we must have looked to be an exceptionally large family to everyone there.

After checking out of the hotel the next morning we booked a roundtrip cruise on the Rhine, up to Bacharach and back. The Rhine cruise we took was between St. Goar and Bacharach and is really the most interesting and scenic section of the Rhine River. We cruised past the Loreley, the iconic “lighthouse” castle mid-river at Kaub, a multitude of castles and past several other lovely Rhine towns on both sides of the river.

Bacharach, like most other Rhine towns, is known for its Rhine wine. It is the quintessential, picture-perfect German town with lush green vines hanging over most doorways and gingerbread-style houses and buildings amidst narrow, winding cobblestone streets. The castle stands guard from high on the hill above the town. It is an old town with a Roman cathedral ruin and an old wall with a few remaining towers. We spent most of the afternoon just walking around exploring the town, old wall and towers after enjoying ice cream cones. Then we meandered our way home along the Rhine before getting back on the autobahn and speeding home.

Chapter Nineteen: Rhine Trip

One of the things we did when our friend, Rebecka, came to visit us in Germany, was to take a trip to the Rhine River region. We hadn’t been there yet and so we rose early one Saturday, packed the car and drove about three hours to the north and west. We headed to the Mosel River first and then on to Burg Eltz, a castle there.

Even with the Global Positioning System (GPS), we actually became lost and confused (surprise!) at the town of Koblenz which sits at the confluence of the Mosel and Rhine rivers. After traversing the highway at the edge of town about three times we finally exited and ended up down town. We would have liked to have parked and got out and walked around and explored the city or at least stopped for lunch but instead we became hopelessly lost. Once again we found ourselves driving around and around in circles in the downtown area. This is usually about the time the kids in the back get bored and look up from their electronic entertainments to say something helpful like, “Hey, this looks familiar. Haven’t we been by this shop already?”

To which my husband or I reply a little too loudly, “Yes. Thank you. We’re lost.”

We pulled over, tweaked the GPS and consulted maps before realizing our mistake. This is the maddening thing about the GPS. It gives you lots of information but never blurts out, “Blockhead, you just missed your exit!” It simply…recalculates. Unless you are watching it every second, you don’t notice it recalculates. So, you drive in a circle as it says, “Up ahead, keep left.” And then “After 50 meters, stay to the left.” And “At the end of the road, veer left.” And you find yourself on the very same street driving past the very same storefronts, until you once again miss your poorly marked highway exit to repeat the process all over again.

We finally found our intended highway exit and continued on along the Mosel River. It was beautiful. We drove through several quaint towns set between hilly vineyards and the tranquil river. There were walking paths studded with benches and trees along the river throughout each town and even in between the towns. But somehow we missed each and every turn to pull over until we actually pulled over into a wide parking lot in the middle of nowhere along the road. We ate our sandwiches there and managed to cross the highway to walk down to the river’s edge. The vineyards on the hill next to the parking lot and all along the Mosel River were so steep that there appeared to be some kind of chairlift contraptions built into the hill presumably to help in the grooming and harvesting of the vines. After consuming our sandwiches and visiting the river’s edge we continued on down the highway toward our destination.

Burg Eltz sits in a quiet river valley along the meandering Eltz River. But first, we had to park and then walk downhill towards the castle. After about 20 minutes of walking we reached the edge of the river valley in which the castle sat proudly below. It was a dazzling and gorgeous site shining in the sun! But, it was still another 20 minutes walk down a very steep incline. The weather was unseasonably warm for late April. It was already at least 80 degrees F. And my two-year-old was already good and ready for a nap so we had to carry her most of the way downhill on our backs. We also ended up carrying the five-year-old as well. All I could think about on the way down was the long, hot tiring trip back up!

We found the inner courtyard and waited till enough people gathered for an English tour. All our effort thus far was well worth the castle tour. You don’t actually get to see the entire castle interior but what we saw and learned was quite interesting. After the guided tour my husband took the older children to tour the treasury while I took the younger ones out into the sunny outer courtyard to play.

The girls saw some young boys sword fighting and climbing around on some huge rocks at the castle foundation and joined in the action. After six months in Germany, my daughter Mariel had become accustomed to everyone around her speaking a foreign language. After a few minutes of playing alongside the boys she ran up to me and excitedly recounted, “Mom! Those boys are speaking English!”

I answered, “Yes, they are.” And she ran back to the rocks again.

A few minutes later Mariel got the courage to address the boys directly and I heard her exuberantly say, “You’re speaking English!”

One of the boys, the older of the two, who looked about six or seven years of age, proudly stiffened up and in perfect British English (to my untrained ears) said, “I’m not speaking English. I’m speaking Welsh!” And walked away offended.

Mariel looked up at me baffled with her mouth hanging open and her eyes as big as saucers and said quiet sadly, “But he WAS speaking English, Mom. He was.” If my daughter hadn’t been so incredibly deflated I would have laughed out loud.

As it was, I was suppressing a smile as I answered, “I know honey. Let’s go get some ice cream.”

Chapter Eighteen: Hiking in the Alps

While we were staying in Garmisch in Southern Germany, Cory’s sister really wanted to go hike in the mountains. Thus, we went to the hotel’s front desk to ask about lifts (Gondolas) and hikes in the area. The very kind and helpful lady at the front desk had all kinds of brochures and maps and information on all the local hiking trails and pricing on the lifts. After she gave us a 10 minute detailed and slightly overwhelming run-down of all our nearby options, my father-in-law looked at her and said, “How about a short, level hike for an out-of-shape Opa (Grandpa)?”

“Oh, I see,” she said knowingly. “And the other hikers? What ages would they be?” she inquired looking over my way.

“Five kinder (children) ages 2, 5, 11, 12, and 14 and myself, my husband and Opa (here) and Oma and also my brother’s sister (I motioned to Vicki),” I replied.

“Okay,” she responded. “Then I have the perfect family hike I would suggest that includes riding lifts up and then hiking down.”

Well that sounded great to us. We took her detailed instructions and headed back to the room to grab sweatshirts, jackets, gloves, and backpacks full of snacks, water bottles and Euro and we were off. All ten of us walked several blocks across the valley floor over to the base of the nearby mountain to ride our first lift. There we purchased a one-trip family pass for everyone and boarded the next available Gondola.

It was a sunny, spring day in March and we could see for miles and miles in every direction as we lifted up into the blue sky and moved up the mountain. We shared the Gondola with downhill snow skiers who were fully clad with equipment. We must have been a sight to them; a large family group of all ages including Grandparents all the way down to a toddler who were all dressed for a cool spring mountain hike. And as we rose in elevation we kept “Oooing and Aahhing” and snapping pictures on every side and angle. The mountains were steeped in snow-capped majesty on every side and framed with blue sky and white puffs of clouds all around. And we were still rising up, up, up. We were riding almost to the very peak of the 2nd highest German Alp called the Alpspitze.

Once we reached our destination atop the mountain we unloaded and looked around a bit. We found ourselves at a sky lodge sitting in the sky. There were restrooms, lockers and an indoor cafeteria. So we ordered some hot lunch and then headed outdoors to enjoy the sunshine. We sat around on picnic tables outside and watched skiers unload from the platter-lift and ski down the steep hill on slushy, wet spring snow. There were people skiing in short sleeve shirts and others just sitting around basking in the warm sunshine.

After this we loaded back onto a different Gondola and headed down a tangent side of the mountain. We were heading to a different lift location and then to hike downhill to the final Gondola station where we would take our final ride back down the mountain to end up just a block away from the place in which we began thus completing our hiking lift circuit. At the last moment, before the doors automatically closed, a young German couple jumped into the Gondola with us. When we arrived at the lift station we were a bit dismayed to find ourselves in the middle of a ski hill and thus completely surrounded by snow on every side. We looked around for a trail sign and found one but the young German couple said the sign read something like, “Skiers only—no hikers!”

The young couple were not outfitted for skiing either and said they were also looking for the foot trail. We were much relieved when they offered to go ask someone at the lift station. However, they returned pointing directly up the steep hill in front of us. We all looked up to where they were pointing and I think I said something like, “You have got to be kidding me!” Or “Why can’t we go that way where it’s flat and easy?”

My husband responded, “Because it says no hikers.” But the couple didn’t even answer, as they were already attempting to walk (if you could call it that) straight up the hill slipping and sliding as they went in their street shoes. After all, this was Germany and above all, you follow the rules!

The problem was that none of us had really dressed for hiking in the snow. We were all wearing street shoes and I was probably the worse off as I had slip-on, Docker walking shoes that had absolutely NO traction on the bottom whatsoever. And by this time, my two and five year old children were tired. It was now mid-afternoon, just after lunch and normally would have been naptime for the two year old. The children were also wearing slip-on kinds of tennis shoes with little traction and after just a few steps their little shoes and socks were soaked completely through and they began crying. But, we were stuck. We had only purchased one-way, one-trip, tickets and the only way down the mountain, at this point, was up. So, up we went.

The adults took turns carrying and alternately dragging or pushing the two younger ones up that almost vertical hill. I ended up crawling up it like a bear on all fours, using both my hands and feet. All ten of us also took turns sliding down a few feet so that our progress upwards really went something like ten steps forward and then two steps back. My husband’s sister, the only in-shape adult, zoomed up the hill with the older kids compared to the rest of us.

Once we were up that awful hill, the rest of the trail was relatively downhill. But it was still snow-covered and steep in places and it took us quite a while to traverse the entire trail carrying two small, cold and tired children most of the way. At one point, my daughter Grace (the two-year-old) fell asleep on my back and kept slipping down and became almost completely dead weight. About that time, I fell far behind everyone else and my husband hiked back and took her from me. He slid Mariel (our five-year-old) off his shoulders and around to the front and then put Grace atop his shoulders so that he was walking down the trail carrying two girls at the same time!

It was difficult to enjoy the breathtaking scenery all around us while we were enduring all this physical cold and hardship. And I mostly had to just focus on my feet and every step I took so I wouldn’t slip and fall on the ice especially during the times I was carrying a small child on my back. But every now and then I just had to stop and look around and even snap a picture or two which is partly why I fell so far behind everyone else. I knew I had to savor the moments up in the Alps because there was no way we were coming back anytime soon!

We did eventually reach the other lift station and we were so ready for hot chocolate and German cake. But alas, we were too late in the afternoon. They had closed the restaurant down after lunch. Deflated, tired and cold we climbed into our last Gondola and headed back down the mountain and then walked back to the hotel.