We’re all settled in to our new house and we love, love, love it. We were expecting to downsize, coming from a three bedroom American house to little European quarters but this place is several hundred square feet bigger than the house we just finally closed on (woohoo!). And that’s not even counting the two attics or the giant wine cellar. We got rid of a ton of stuff before moving here, and now we have more space and less stuff and really what’s better than that? I will say, though, that the layout is definitely very European and nothing makes that clearer than the tiny little Ikea couch I bought that is currently serving as an obstacle to the laundry room instead of family seating because it doesn’t fit up the staircase. When The Man finally gets back and our good friends move here next month, the guys are going to have to heave ho the little couch over the terrace and OUT OF MY LAUNDRY ROOM HALLWAY.
I guess I haven’t taken a whole ton of pictures of the house, because the décor all feels so transitional. But, here’s an overexposed, blindingly bright picture of the garden and the side of the freaking huge house. I can’t wait until those lilacs bloom!
Cheeseball started German kindergarten last week. She loves being in school and I think it’s really helping her with her interest in learning German. Of which she previously had none. Don’t get me wrong, she’s picked up a few things. Danke schön. (Thank you) Wie geht’s? Gut, danke. (How are you? Good, thanks.) And, of course, the incredibly important ich möchte ein eis. (I would like ice cream.)
But, most of her German is more Cheeseball than German. Entschuldigen (excuse me, as in hello there pay attention to me, please) and Entschuldigung (excuse me, as in oops sorry, didn’t mean to squash your toe) are both pronounced chilly goo and translate as either “oops, sorry” or “how do we get home?”.
I talked before about “tchuss” as a farewell, and in CheeseballDeutsch, it’s pronounced juice. Except more pink and sparkly and makes everyone smile. Kind of like this.
She also knows alles which means “that’s all” but she translates as “no chocolate cookies for Cheeseball” and gets very upset at the bakery when you ask for croissants and pretzels and then say alles. NO, NOT ALLES. Also, cookies. Then you say “chilly goo, Cheeseball, but the baker only understands German!” and then you’re the meanest mommy EVER.
Ok, stopping now. I still won’t have Internet at home for another week, but I’m scheduling a few posts to go up in the meantime so you don’t have to read my whole oh my gosh life is freaking fascinating right now and I could write an entire novel about it - not a good novel, but one of those really long ones that you had to read in school that jump all over the place and go on and on and on and seem like a big waste of letters and awfully naval gazing thought process all at one time. You’re welcome.