Yesterday is one of those days when the world has tipped and everything has fallen off. It started off with my husband giving me the great news, 5 minutes before we leave for the train, that our things will not follow us to Berlin. Now that wouldn't be such a horror, except I left some things behind that I might actually need in two weeks. Actually what he said was "We have decided not to take the bag to Berlin."
"We?" I shouted, "who in the hell is we? I am part of what's in that bag. And you tell me now? Five minutes before we leave for the train?" But he and Kjeld had decided it would be a problem for their car, which is fine, but don't inform me as we are going out the door.
Anyway I survived and the bag is still at their house.
The trip itself went without a hitch as far as Kreisensen, a small town with a closed bahnhof. "It is dying," said Ursula, the young German woman who picked us up. She helped me with my bag and Dick struggled with his. Then we sat down and waited for her to bring the car.
The next hour went very well. We packed everything in the car and Ursula took us to her house--A little house with a picket fence and stones hanging from the trees. IT reminded me of the man who hung his troubles on the tree before he entered the house, and picked them off the tree as he left the next morning. I told Ursula that story, and she liked it.
Her house is so cute, very German. You walk into the diela (hallway) and there are a number of rooms with all the doors shut tight. Her living room was darling, and there was a small kitchen. Outside were table and chairs where we had green tea with vanilla and apfelkuchen (apple cake). Ursula is bubbly and very energetic. Soon I was making jokes with her. That was fun.
Then we went to the hotel and started unpacking, only to realize that we left Dicks upright bag standing on the bahnhof plaza. NO!!!! After we convinced Ursula that we actually had had the bag on the plaza,----he had to carry it up the steps from the train, she insisted they go back to Kreiensen. So off they went to find the bag.
"We?" I shouted, "who in the hell is we? I am part of what's in that bag. And you tell me now? Five minutes before we leave for the train?" But he and Kjeld had decided it would be a problem for their car, which is fine, but don't inform me as we are going out the door.
Anyway I survived and the bag is still at their house.
The trip itself went without a hitch as far as Kreisensen, a small town with a closed bahnhof. "It is dying," said Ursula, the young German woman who picked us up. She helped me with my bag and Dick struggled with his. Then we sat down and waited for her to bring the car.
The next hour went very well. We packed everything in the car and Ursula took us to her house--A little house with a picket fence and stones hanging from the trees. IT reminded me of the man who hung his troubles on the tree before he entered the house, and picked them off the tree as he left the next morning. I told Ursula that story, and she liked it.
Her house is so cute, very German. You walk into the diela (hallway) and there are a number of rooms with all the doors shut tight. Her living room was darling, and there was a small kitchen. Outside were table and chairs where we had green tea with vanilla and apfelkuchen (apple cake). Ursula is bubbly and very energetic. Soon I was making jokes with her. That was fun.
Then we went to the hotel and started unpacking, only to realize that we left Dicks upright bag standing on the bahnhof plaza. NO!!!! After we convinced Ursula that we actually had had the bag on the plaza,----he had to carry it up the steps from the train, she insisted they go back to Kreiensen. So off they went to find the bag.
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