Cygnets!!

The last week has had it's sweet moments and it's sad moments. I was not the only person anxiously waiting for the swan eggs to hatch. There are several other people that are lurking around the nests waiting for the first crack to show. One, an older gentleman, has become a Bekannter (acquaintance) of mine. We try to piece together my poor German and his rudimentary English to make swan talk. He's retired so he's been spending almost every waking moment there - camera in hand. While I was somewhere shoving another Bratwurst down my gullet, he was there capturing every small detail of the first hatchlings. And hatch they did.

I arrived on Monday to learn that one of the mothers had four new baby cygnets. Her last egg is still left to hatch. It's was hard to get any pictures since the babes spend most of their time under the mother's wings but I managed a few.



And now the sad part. The other Swan Mother had just two eggs. Now she has just one. Apparently, yesterday some teenage boys were showing off, being stupid or whatnot and decided it would be fun to try and steal the eggs. They got one of the eggs and when people nearby tried to persuade them to put the egg back, the teen's response was, "here, you put it back." And then he rolled the egg on the ground like a bowling ball. Of course, it smashed.

When I heard this, I started to cry. I was so upset that I had to call Thomas at work. I've done that only once since I've been here. The news hit me so hard. It was just such a cruel, senseless thing to do. The egg couldn't have been more than a week away from hatching. That mother has sat there day and night, through all kinds of weather, only to have someone destroy her family. For no reason. I feel like they should find the kids and arrest them. But they bolted and my swan friend thinks they'll never find them. They better hope he doesn't recognized them around the lake because he was as mad/sad about it as a parent protecting a child. Here's the mother with her lone egg. It still breaks my heart.


UPDATE: The egg of the second swan never hatched although she sat on it for a good three weeks after it should have hatched. Finally the man I call the Swan Professor (he visits them every day, knows everything about them, names them and basically just loves and cares for them) had to remove the egg so she could get on with her life. Heartbreaking.

Family in Town.

We've had our first family visitors. Hopefully, not our last. My brother Neal, his wife Angela and the cutest baby in the world, Bennett, spent the week with us. We did it all:

Hofbräuhaus
Marienplatz
Viktualienmarkt
Dachau
Salzbug
Englischer Garten with a stop at Chinesischer Turm
Hanging by the lake
Neuschwanstein
Kloster Andechs
Nymphenburg Palace

Whew! We did a lot. With a baby. Did I mention that he is the cutest baby in the world?

Happy Mother's Day!

Spring is in full force on our little Lake Fasanerie. Mother ducks have already started to hatch their broods and the swans are busy building nests and laying eggs. I saw the first nest on Monday tucked up right along the shore line. The mother was sitting proudly, the father patrolling the surrounding water. Across the lake, another swan couple was canvassing the shoreline. Sure enough, by Wednesday they’d claimed their stake and were busy decorating their new nest with sticks, twigs and grass.

Besides the joy that comes with seeing nature work its miracle, the swan nests have provided an added health benefit for me. I’m more eager to get out there and exercise because I’ve become so emotionally invested in the swans and their eggs. I play games with myself. Yesterday I decided to do as many loops as it would take for one of the swans to get off her nest so I could get an updated egg count. It took me five laps (just over 6 miles) before one of the lovely ladies hauled tail and went for a little dip in the water.

Apparently, swans lay anywhere from 3-10 eggs usually separated by two days in between. My last count has one nest at 2 eggs and the other at 5. The gestation period averages between 35-40 days. So, come June, we’ll have at least seven small, sweet swans swimming around. How’s that for alliteration?

I’m personally hoping for at least nine cygnets so I can name each one after the Fellowship of the Nine.When I was an early teen and well into Lord of the Rings, reading and rereading it obsessively, a stray cat that we'd christened Gray Lady had a batch of kittens under our back porch. As I recall, it was nine kittens but a lot of what I recall is not 100% historically accurate. Shocking, I know. However, the number of nine does make for a better story so let's just go with nine, shall we? Good. I immediately declared myself Namer of all things Kitten. Fuzzy little Frodo, Gandalf the Gray (he took after his mother), Aragorn... My little sister had another idea entirely. At the time, she was reading the Big Book of Bible Stories and she thought the kittens should all have biblical names. Ruth. Rachel. Abraham. I mean really, if it comes down to Abraham or Aragorn what cat would you want covering your back?

I don't think Gray Lady and her offspring stuck around long enough for the issue to ever get resolved. It's been a gaping hole in my childhood development ever since. So come on swan moms - keep a laying and give a girl a little Legolas!

 

Update: as of this morning we are up to eight eggs. Thanks Moms! And Happy Mother's Day!

Hike

We went for a hike today in Spitzingsee. Thomas and Steffen battled out the best way to navigate. Thomas using the positively prehistoric hand-held map. Steffen using a high-tech, hand-held GPS. So, you just know that we spent half the hike off the actual trail. Don't you just love testosterone?

 

When we reached the top of the mountain, we discovered a Search & Rescue team practicing dropping rescuers on a nearby cliff face. So cool. I, of course, would have liked to have been airlifted to safety when I was huffing and puffing my way up the mountain. But, as usual, I was ill-prepared finding myself without a bullhorn, red flag or emergency flares. Next time.

Prague Anyone? Yes, please.

What can I say about Prague? How about this? GO!

p.s. I get loads of compliments on the photography on this blog. I have to fess up and admit that 98% of them are courtesy of TK Productions. As in Thomas. As in Kurz. Once in a while I can squeeze a good one in but that's the exception because TK's pictures rule.

p.p.s. Go to Prague in the off-season. Otherwise it's overrun with Americans and Germans. Wink.

Frühlingsfest - a Smaller Oktoberfest

Much smaller. But we're so psyched that our friends T & M are definitely coming to visit for Oktoberfest that we decided we better start our training now. First order of business - official attire. Now, laugh as you might, I think German lederhosen are akin to the Scottish kilt. It takes a man of a certain je ne sais quoi to don these puppies and get away with it. Here, in Bavaria, lederhosen are associated with virility and brawn – like the kilt minus the easy access. But you know those Germans, they over-engineer everything.

Thomas grew up in Dresden (East Germany) Lederhosen and dirndls (which we’ll get to later) have a Southern alpine heritage. For an East German guy to put on a pair of lederhosen is crossing a definite line. When Thomas broke out his leathers for Easter Sunday at his parents, he was none too sure what the reaction would be. Probably much the same as telling your parents that you’re in love with an American girl. Fortunately, both reveals turned out well.

Now, lest you think lederhosen and dirndls are reserved for Oktoberfest and the Hofbrauhaus, you’re wrong. They are a regular fixture in Munich. Sunday best, wedding, flea market, dinner with friends, beer garden, hiking - it’s definitely not unusual to see a pair of hairy legs poking out from a pair of hand-stitched hosen on the U-bahn. So, Thomas crossed cultural boundaries (while proliferating German stereotypes) and got himself the whole kit and caboodle.

On to the dirndl. Like lederhosen, the good ones are expensive. Some can be wedding dress expensive. And, unlike the utilitarian version pictured below, they can be fashionable. I know, I know. But really - there are boutique companies that specialize in high-fashion dirndls. Seriously. Think runway. Still don’t believe me? Click here.


So, I have not gotten my dirndl yet because:

1. I need to lose 10 pounds before I make such a big investment and there's a half-full jar of Nutella that needs to be addressed before that happens.
2. I'm trying to decide if I should match my dirndl to Thomas' outfit or if that is just waaayyy too Hansel and Gretel.
3. The frugal side of me thinks I should sew my own. Out of curtains. Like Scarlett.

I’ll have to get back to you on the final decision. In the meantime, let's have a beer and celebrate Frühling. Prost!

 

 

Anno Domini - Step Back in Time

We went to Dresden to visit Thomas' parents this weekend and they took us to Anno Domini a restaurant that recreates Medieval life in Saxony. Check it. No lights - only candles. Wooden tables and benches. Cutlery - optional. But if you do tick the yes box you get a wooden spoon and a knife - no fork because presumably the fork lost the rock, paper, scissors fight.

It was an authentic, entertaining experience complete with bawdy character-actor cum servers. I, of course, understood nothing and had to rely on the accompanying inappropriate gestures to get the gist of most of their shtick. Fortunately, sexual gesticulation (that sounds very scientific, doesn't it?) is an international language.

The highlight of the evening was the parade of animals that made their way through the place. Rabbit on your table? No probs. Rooster under your feet? Deal with it. Ass's ass in your face? That's what you paid for, isn't it? Let's just hope they're not offering complimentary cases of that to-die-for Medieval must-have... dysentery.

Passing Time in Passau

A late lie-in, a cup of coffee with the requisite fresh baked pastry and a road trip to Passau – well now, that has all the makings of a perfect Saturday. Passau is often referred to as the City of Three Rivers because the Danube, the Inn and the Ilz rivers all join there. Side note: doesn’t The Inn & The Ilz sound like a great name for a What’s Hot and What’s Not blog? Tragically, life in Feldmoching has taken me firmly off the trend trail. Any of my NYC girls want to jump on that?

Anyway, back to Passau (not to be confused with Passé which is what you’ll find on The Ilz list). Passau is a colorful city filled with early Gothic and Baroque architecture that has managed to survive despite being the victim of regular floods. During those sandbag-filled days, Passau is referred to by locals as the City of Three *&%$Mother*&%$^Efin Rivers. Supposedly, each of the three rivers has a very distinct color owing to the type and amount of silt, sediment, etc. that they carry from their origin. To me, they just looked – umm, cold. The Danube is said to be more of a yellow and not the waltzy blue for which it is renowned. Clever bit of marketing the Austrian-born Strauss did with that, eh? Seconded only by Red Bull.

Boat trips along the Danube often stop here to grab a bit of German feel and fare. The most visited tourist attraction is the baroque St. Stephen’s Cathedral built in 1688. At one time the church boasted (well, maybe not boasted as that doesn’t sound very Christian) the largest pipe organ in the world. There are 17,774 pipes and 233 registers. But sadly, or inevitably, the good ‘ole US of A super-sized that and now they refer to it as the largest pipe organ in Europe.

Linderhof Palace & Andechs Monastery

photo courtesy of flikr

Trudy’s in town so we took the opportunity to venture outside Munich for a day trip to Mad King Ludwig’s Linderhof Palace stopping for a beer on our way back at Andechs Monastery.

I’ll spare you my current obsession with King Ludwig II. Suffice it to say, I’m looking for a good biography on the nutter. Christmas? Dad? Anyone? Anyone? Located south of Munich, Linderhof is a tiny palace in comparison to its sibling Neuschwanstein. Ludwig spent a great deal of time there in his later years when he was in full recluse mode. Hence, it is the only palace in the world without any guestrooms. In fact, Ludwig was such a loner by then that he had a drop floor installed in his dining room so that a fully dressed and laid out table could be hoisted up from the kitchen below thereby enabling him to dine without servants in absolute solitude. Oh yeah, except that he insisted the table be set for four because he liked to talk to imaginary people while he ate. Like I said, nutter.

Unfortunately, because it is winter a lot of the sculptures were under protection and some of the outlying buildings were closed. I definitely want to take a trip back when everything is in bloom to see the gardens and the outer buildings, most notably the Moorish Kiosk where Ludwig spent days on end smoking a big hookah. Smoking what? Who knows, but remember kids - This is your brain. This is your brain on drugs.

Any questions?

After a scenic drive back we stopped at local favorite Andechs Monestery in search of the particular brand of spiritual enlightenment that can only be found at the bottom of a monk-made maß of beer.

It's Beginning To Look A Lot Like Christmas

We've had a nice snowfall here in Munich. Fasanerie, our little lake, is a Winter Wonderland. The Christmas Markets are in full swing and we've made the rounds in Dresden, Munich and Regensburg. We're still a bit miffed that BFMF doesn't have their own Weinachts Markt. I know at least two people who would have gone for a Bratwurst and Gluhwein on our way back from the bakery.