What I didn't do today

I woke up this morning at 6 a.m. sharp, but not to put a turkey in the oven. It was just business as usual getting the kids off to school. As much I had been looking forward to my one-year reprieve from making the traditional Thanksgiving feast, I started to have my doubts when I heard NPR's Renee Montagne interview Chris Kimball of America's Test Kitchen. Kimball's re-invention of the Thanksgiving classics (including cooking the bird in parts and making an apple slab pie) set me thinking: Should I surprise everyone with turkey and all the fixings? I considered. Maybe if I hadn't just bought all the ingredients for pad thai, maybe if I'd done the necessary shopping in the morning, maybe if Stefan had time to give me a hand in the kitchen, but really, maybe if everyone around me was fretting about basting and hustling to get ten side dishes to the table hot and on time. I have made Thanksgiving dinners while abroad before, and while they turned out fine, they were just big meals and not really a holiday. And that's really what I'm missing today, the sense of holiday. So, pad thai it is. I'll get my chance to stress and sweat the day away in the kitchen next year. Or maybe Chris Kimball will have a new set of tips for me by then.

Uncanny Acquaintances

On our trip to London we took in the wax works at Madame Tussauds. It was a sign of Meilo and Dahlia's maturity that we made it. Let me explain. While I was getting my MFA in creative writing at OSU, I took a course in uncanny literature. The uncanny is a class of frightening things that are disturbing in part because they are uncomfortably familiar or personal. The kids were always curious to know what I was studying, so we filled our car rides to and from school with strange, ghostly and unsettling stories that I was reading at the time. The effect was deep. Dahlia started to question whether her dolls were coming alive at night and insisted on sleeping on the floor for a week, and Meilo wondered (albeit only briefly) whether he had been substituted by a fascimile. When it came time to go to the wax museum in Newport, they both adamantly refused, saying, "It sounds too uncanny, Mommy." Fast forward a couple of years and they happily marched around Madame Tussauds taking pictures. Side note: Only Stefan was brave enough to walk through the wax horror house; the kids and I know our limits.

Dahlia dined with Audrey Hepburn and Meilo dropped in on Steven Spielberg.

Christina Aguilera and Will Smith both seemed to have other things on their minds.

Where in the world is Meilo? #1

While in Germany Meilo and Dahlia will be keeping in touch with their classmates in Oregon. Meilo, for example, will be producing short videos related to the Roman Empire, a topic his 6th grade class is studying in the States. We are modeling the videos on the Public Radio International's geo quizzes on the The World. We're calling the videos Where in the World is Meilo? Check out his first video. Can you figure out where he is?

When did our German get so good?

It is always a culture shock to arrive in Germany and have to switch into speaking and reading in another language. Usually when we come in the summer we spend the entire time with German-speaking friends and family. But this time, we set off for the UK after a week, with German burbling in our heads. When we landed in London and could communicate with abandon, I thought: "Wow, our German has really improved quickly." It was a strange kind of disconnect, like dreaming you're eating apple pie but it tastes like steak.

Family as rock band

Well, we are finally installed in Germany, living with Stefan's father in the heart of the Black Forest. After moving out of our house, we had some stops along the way: three weeks living with my mother, a week in New York with my brothers, a week in New England with friends, back to New York for a few days before flying to Germany. We stayed in Germany just long enough to get over our jet lag and enroll the kids in school, when we promptly left for a week in London. Now, back in The Fatherland, we (the adults at least) are looking forward to some routine. My mother thought our start-and-stop itinerary made us sound a like a band of vagabonds; my brother thought it just made us sound like a band on tour. The latter image appealed.