ometimes, it's hard to believe I'm as old as I am. Time seems to pass more quickly with each year. At the same time, when I think about the things I have done - jobs I've held, places I've traveled, people I've met - I feel pretty good about all I've experienced in my *gulp* 32 years. And things keep getting better.

Being this far away from family and old friends, it often leaves birthdays and holidays twinged with a bit of sadness. This is especially true because my mother, even 30 years later, still goes all out and makes me feel like the most special person in the world. My husband made sure I felt the same way this year, half a world away. He took the day off and dealt with the stove repairman, so I wouldn't have to. I awoke to presents and a lazy morning (waiting for said repairman) enjoying some of our favorite shows. He drove us into Frankfurt for burgers and an autumn carnival. Friends joined us for dinner at a lovely new place back in town and we all celebrated with Sekt and cupcakes well into the night (ahem, morning).

Between the presents, the friend and all the treats, I felt truly spoiled. Though I still miss my family and friends back in the states greatly, I wasn't left feeling like my day was totally incomplete. Abundant Facebook, Twitter and phone messages filled my heart. A huge thank you to everyone who made me feel so loved on my birthday- both here and in the US!

So here's a bit from my birthday, in pictures:

Piles of presents - all for me!

Candy inside the new handbag. 

Does my husband know me, or what?

Perfect presents to wear on my birthday

September birthday = sapphire nails

My husband scouted out a place in Frankfurt with good burgers

(a highly-covetable thing here in Germany!)

Wearing all my goodies and enjoying an afternoon of absolutely perfect weather in Frankfurt

Swanky Thai-mango soup at my birthday dinner

Delicious ricotta ravioli

I haven't gotten birthday balloons in years - so special!

Even with a very new newborn, my friend somehow managed to make my very favorite cake

Spoiled with gifts. Here, the most perfect autumn scent - ever.

A plethora of amazing products

Two beautiful necklaces from two very dear friends 

on opposite sides of the world

Even the German retailers thought of me. Guess this means I get to go pick out yet another birthday treat... ;)

*Daily Drop Cap by Jessica Hische

 guess we have started to become locals, because in the grand tradition of taking one's city for granted, there are still major things in our own town we haven't done yet - have dinner at the Kurhaus (ok, my husband had a business dinner there, but we have yet to go together), done the couple's trip to Kaiser-Friedrich-Therme bath (I've been, but have yet to get up the courage to go on anything other than 'women's day') and most notably, we'd never ridden the Nerobergbahn funicular railway to the top of Wiesbaden - until now. 

A few weeks ago, we ended up with a free afternoon in the company of some friends and decided that it was a good time to take advantage of such a cool attraction right in our neighborhood. With only the slightest hint of drizzle and mostly sun pushing its way into the day, we headed out for a new adventure.

The Nerobergbahn is a sort of hillside tram that operates two cars at a time - one going up and one coming down. The one at the top is pumped full of water to make it heavier and thus more able to pull the secondary tram all the way up the hill. Like seemingly everything is Europe, it's been in operation since the late 1800s (aside from a brief shutdown during WWII and confiscation by those lousy Americans). Getting on at the bottom begins with waiting for the tram to dump all its water to lighten its load for the trip up. Then begins the leisurely ride up overlooking the Nerotal park and the surrounding area.

At the top, we meandered to the lookout spot for the view over all of Wiesbaden. Not a bad view, if I say so myself.

We decided that as late as it was, we might as well eat dinner in the restaurant at the Opelbad, the swanky swimming pool at the top of the hill. Dinner was surprisingly good and not nearly as expensive as expected, considering the setting. That evening I encountered yet another first - my first Aperol spritz. The ubiquitous Wiesbaden summertime drink, most notable for its nearly neon hue, is made with the bitter orange-tasting Aperol, Prosecco, a dash of seltzer and - can you believe it? - ice. Can't believe I waited so long - delish! 

Unfortunately, we had lingered too long over dinner and the glorious view that we just missed the last ride down the hill on the Nerobergbahn, so we had to take the trail down. While it was a little bit mucky from the summer rains, it was a lovely little hike that reminded me how lucky we are to live with such beautiful places within walking distance. 

*Daily Drop Cap by Jessica Hische

Peeling tile, broken dishwasher, moldy countertops... 

how'd we put up with this for so long?!

fter the whirlwind renovations our first year here - painting every room, adding window coverings and wardrobes, investing in our first major appliances - apartment projects have settled down. One thing that has since stayed on my mind is the shoddy kitchen (ok, ok, also the avocado green toilet, but we'll get there), which funnily enough, was described as 'installed' in the rental ad, required payment to the previous tenant for the ancient (and as we now know, not entirely functioning) appliances and ended up listed as 'tenant owned' on our paperwork. With no other apartment projects on our list - and holidays temporarily taking a back seat - we were ready to dive in.

Being the overly-ambitious renovator that I am, I of course wanted to gut it down to the circa 1992 cabinets, tile walls and floors included. Naturally, I had to concede that our visas being only a few years at a time and the element of never knowing what will happen, it was too much of an investment. Not to mention the fact that if we did ever move, it would likely be out of Germany, so there would be no way we would take our kitchen with us. For readers new to this German concept of paying for and toting around your own kitchen - from cabinets to sinks to appliances - from apartment to apartment, with the small likelihood that your last kitchen will even fit into the space of your new kitchen, its ridiculousness is unmatched. It is the most wasteful, expensive and just plain makes-no-sense thing the Germans indulge in. They might as well say to renters "here's the bathroom, but by the way, you have to supply your own tub and toilet." In the land known for streamlining and efficiency, this is one area in which the Germans are sorely lacking. 

What I hope our kitchen will look like, given time

Having accepted our limitations, I started planning. If we couldn't gut the whole thing, perhaps we could just get new cabinet doors to freshen it up. What bothers me most about the cabinets (besides the chipped finish, the horribly dated handles, and the '90s-inspired grid glass) was awkward upper middle cabinet. With it's smaller size, rotted-out corners and animal-shaped knobs, it brought out deep frustration every time I looked at it.

I don't know why it took me so long to come to the conclusion, but taking it out altogether was really the best thing from both an aesthetic and functional point of view. Not only did it really open up the space, but it let me get at the 20+ years of grime behind it and include it in the tile repainting portion of the project.

Uh, yuck!

I was apprehensive about just painting over the tiles because some preliminary research told me it won't adhere well and will likely chip and scratch easily. Since tearing the tiles out of the 100-year-old wall beneath wasn't really an option, we forged ahead with the only option we found at OBI (the German Home Depot, right down to the warehouse interior and same shade of orange in the logo). I did a few extra rounds of sanding and scrubbing with the special cleaner to ensure the best possible surface for the paint to adhere to, and all in all, I'm pretty happy with the result. The surface is not entirely immune to indentations and paint scratching off, but it's more durable than I would have expected and the shiny, clean surface makes the tile look almost new again.   

Before

After

The next big thing was the appliances (the reason this whole project got underway, really). As with everything else, budget was a factor. While we thought Ikea would be the place to go for cheap appliances, they were actually more expensive and much more limiting than options at the big electronics stores. We were lucky enough to score to pieces that were the last ones left and/or floor models, so we were able to spring for a more efficient dishwasher, a name-brand stove and an induction cooktop (which came very highly recommended from the lovely Frau Dietz and her husband) for not too much from Media Markt. Less than a week later, they were delivered.

And so, out with the old (although I do regret not hanging onto Tweety as a memento)... 

... and in with the new!

I wish I could say that just having better-looking appliances from this decade makes everything better, but some basic functionality is also key. Our installation was yet another test in putting up with the complete lack of customer service in Germany. Between the deals we got on the appliances, the comparably-small delivery window (which they showed up exactly in the middle of) and how quickly they got the old appliances out and the new ones in, I should have known there would be a catch. And the catch was - the cooktop doesn't work.

Basically the workers threw up their hands and left our oven/stovetop half installed, taking our old (but working!) oven and stovetop with them. A prompt call from the manufacturer told us they could send a technician out to fix the problem - in a week. So I went ahead and scheduled that appointment (for my birthday, no less) and my husband called Media Markt to raise some hell about the lack of concern with leaving us unable to cook for eight whole days. Not surprisingly, they didn't really care. Were they willing to scramble to get us another cooktop from another store? No. Were they willing to cover the expense of us having to eat out for a week? At this, they scoffed. What they would do is try to talk to the manufacturer about speeding up the shipment of the part they miraculously knew we needed. Nice. Thanks for nothing.

I had a brief conversation with Frau Dietz about this on the train the other day, during which she shared an interesting theory behind this lack of 'customer service' that exists (and since her husband is German, I pretty much trust her insights into the German people more than my own). Quite simply, Germans are box-checkers. Did we show up on time? Check. Did we take away their old appliances? Check. Did we install the new appliances? Check (well, sort of). Anything other than checking these boxes is perhaps considered extraneous and only takes away from the task at hand - checking the next boxes on the list. This practicality and efficiency is one of the things I love about Germany, but as a people, it often makes them seem cold and unfeeling. As a customer who just dropped a bunch of money in their store, it makes for an incredibly frustrating experience. 

On the flip side, Frau Dietz brought up a good point that if this were the UK (or in the US, as you Americans know), they would've provided a customer service number that, once you finally made it through maze of numerical choices and endless renditions of easy-listening covers, connected you to someone in India who would ultimately be not in the department you needed, only to be transferred multiple times before the line finally disconnects you and you have to start all over again. I suppose there's no easy solution to this one, no matter where you are.    

On a positive note, other small fixes in the kitchen have proved invaluable in terms of making the most of the usability of our space. For example, other than two little racks that held barely as much as we drank in a week, we finally invested in a proper wine rack so we can keep all our treasured bottles from local wineries close at hand. A simple hanging rack meant getting rid of the counter fruit bowl and clearing up even more work space. Spices were also buried in our pantry on a tiny shelf that required ducking in and twisting around in a near contortionist position. Now, all my most-used spices are within reach of the stove (that albeit, doesn't work yet). I've also spent the last year and a half cursing every time I reached for a paper towel - the roll free-standing on the shelf - and dropped the entire thing into a sink full of soapy dishes. Why I didn't prioritize a paper towel holder until now, I'll never know.  It's all about the little things. Well, and the big things - like a working cooktop.

Aside from getting our cooktop sorted out and two shelves installed where the old cabinet used to be, the next big step will be deciding on which cheap countertop we will put in (since the ubiquitous butcher block tops are five times the price of laminate, the landlord basically said it's our problem - regardless that we rented an apartment with an 'installed kitchen' - and WE don't own the place) to replace the moldy, uneven, poorly cut wood top that exists now. A new sink that doesn't eat into my countertop work space will also be key, and I'm hoping I can squeeze a new faucet out of that budget as well. So our biggest decision for the month of October will likely be... faux wood or faux granite?

Even with everything still left unfinished, the kitchen is leaps and bounds ahead of where we started. So all in all, I'm pleased. I'm envisioning a few months down the line a beautiful, finished kitchen... (and it can't come soon enough!)

*Luke Lucas for Daily Drop Cap via Jessica Hische

ven though our weather has finally given us a feeling of summer, it's clear that fall is on its way. The calendar has turned to September and now our nights are getting colder, trees are starting to lose their leaves and the colors of autumn are starting to show up everywhere. My favorite season is just getting underway and I'm getting antsy for it to arrive in full force! 

Oh yeah, and my favorite part of autumn of all:

(more on that here) ;)

*Daily Drop Cap by Alison Carmichael via Jessica Hische

Ahh... CA

 am conflicted about what to say - and even how to feel - about our trip back to California. Was it great to see our family, friends and be there for someone's wedding day? Of course. Did we enjoy eating all our favorite American foods? Our waistlines are giving a big thumbs up. Does visiting make us 'homesick' to be back there? Um, not so much.

The time we spent in traffic - on a daily basis - 

meant we could be in another country if we were at home :(

Our first trip back to the states was a mere six months after we'd moved, so things were still so new - our excitement about Germany being the place we were living was still so fresh in our minds. Missing people - and the food - was still a new concept. I have to say that more than a year later, I sometimes miss the food even more (German options are comparatively minimal) and get cravings like a pregnant lady for pickles and ice cream. Admittedly though, I felt awful 90% of the time after indulging in whatever it was I felt I couldn't leave California without eating. Either we've gotten too used to Germany's food or US food quality has taken a serious dive.

In the months leading up to our trip, I became almost voracious for all the choices we had in America - places to eat, places to shop (in reality, just more things to buy). Sure, it gets boring sometimes going to the same two or three places when we go out to dinner here, but I found myself actually getting overwhelmed at the amount of choices everywhere we went in America - the menu at a restaurant, the size of shops, the amount of processed crap available in the grocery store. Even the elaborately-designed storefronts I missed so much started to feel forced. The effort that goes into getting people to buy things in America was exhausting, and it was exhausting to be around. 

The clothes, the displays - everything is beautiful 

and so well-designed

Not that the polar-opposite in Germany is that much better: most of the time you're made to feel as if you're doing them a favor by purchasing something in their shop. Those overly-friendly salespeople in America (Germans consider such conversation 'fake') are people here you have to practically beg to help you and those abundant choices (especially in my area of weakness - fashion) might be there, but aren't worth what you have to pay for them. Clothes are mostly polyester, shoes are overpriced and horribly uncomfortable (not to mention don't come in my size), but because that's the way it is, Germans don't question it. Germans seem to be creatures of habit; they stick with what's worked just fine for them (and their parents, and their grandparents..). I couldn't imagine an American sitting back and just 'dealing' with only the choices in front of him - it's all about pushing for something more, something different, something better (Which is really just: More! More!)! I suppose this is how supermarkets got filled with entire aisles of different kinds of tortilla chips and breakfast cereals. 

Choices abound in America - but who really needs this many varieties of mac-n-cheese?!

In addition to some of our perceptions about America that were further cemented this trip, our feelings about where we felt most at home also came more into focus. This trip resulted in lots of questions about when we were coming 'home' - aka, California. Perhaps after nearly two years, friends and family thought our little adventure must be coming to a close and we'd head back to the familiar. It's funny to me because I finally feel like the more we're settling into our lives here in Germany, the more culture, language and politics we understand, the less desire we have to go back. Even though we've got a long way to get to what I'd consider 'integrated,' there's something so much more appealing to us about the lifestyle over here - less stress, more vacation, the ease of travel... Though, I do miss the ease of communicating - with anyone and everyone - that we enjoyed while we were back. But that too, I suppose, will come in time.

The most 'vacation' we got - 

a little coffee and breakfast at the beach one morning

Perhaps the oddest part about going back is how conflicted I felt - about how to feel. While getting all the way back to California eats up gobs of holiday time and money, it doesn't quite feel like a vacation. There's too much on the 'to-do list' for it to be a real holiday. And although we stay with my parents and spend so much time with the people and places we used to be with on a daily basis, it feels almost nothing like home. 

As a perfectionist who must unpack and hang up all my things upon arrival on any holiday (including just a weekend), I have a deep-seated need to feel settled. So this idea of feeling out of place in both California and Germany has been a tough pill to swallow (friend and fellow expat blogger Jen over at Resident on Earth has written two lovely posts on this - here and here - that articulate the feelings around this more eloquently than I can). So my love for our new home drives me forward, into an uncertain place where my Type-A-ness is often pushed to it's limits and I can't appease my sometimes frantic bouts of worry about where we'll be in five years and if, my god, will we ever become fluent in German? The in-between is trying and sometimes scary, but I know that the challenge is good for me. 

Home again, home again...

Back home, there are still projects to be done, not the least of which is the re-doing of much of our kitchen (new appliances, new, unmold-y countertops, minor face-lift updates). I foresee the months following the update to our kitchen - most notably the working appliances - to be filled with even more baking and general cookery than usual for this Hausfrau. Stay tuned for new kitchen excitement and the inevitably resulting frenzy of baking!   

*Drop cap by Linzie Hunter for Daily Drop Cap

The favor from the wedding we attended - 

a gnome to share our travels with, here at Capitola Beach

till deep in recovery from our trip to the states (not to mention trying to sort out my failing iPhone), I have yet to get into the proper state of mind, or sort through all my trip photos, to put together a decent post about our second trip back since moving to Germany. Needless to say, our perceptions keep changing the longer we're here - some which make us miss it there even more and some that make us embarrassed to be identified as Americans (this comes to mind). 

We headed to California specifically for a dear friend's wedding, but the rest of our time there was jam-packed with seeing family and friends, gathering all the things we can only get in the states, and generally spending hours on frustrating freeways jam-packed with people who don't deserve the privilege of a driver's license (let's just say that if I had a dollar for every time someone almost ran into us, it would nearly have financed our trip). So long story short, we could really use a vacation after our vacation. 

More to come on our adventures in California...

*Daily Drop Cap by Jessica Hische