As of today, it is officially September and here in Munich, fall has fell. I went out last weekend and could just feel the change, a bite in the air that made a scarf and a warm jacket absolutely necessary. Too bad I don’t have a warm jacket right now. Actually, I don’t have any warm clothes. I left them all at home in hopes that my mom could send them to me in mid September but it looks like I’m going to need them sooner than that. Honestly, all that I have at the moment are tank tops and wimpy t-shirts. My only backup are a few pairs of jeans and some warm hoodies. That’s it. I want my pea coat so badly right now. Ma? You’re on it!
The last time that I experienced honest to God real fall weather, I lived here:
I was 15 years old and a freshmen in high school – 8 years ago. Growing up, I remember one of my favorite things to do was rake leaves and jump into the piles that my siblings and I made in our front yard. We’d bury stuff in there and dive deep searching for them – Ninja Turtle action figures, GI Joes, Barbies or whatever else. And then in the end we’d stuff all the leaves into yard bags that looked like pumpkins and stack them in front of the house. My childhood best friend and I used to walk around our neighborhood in Missoula with rakes twice our size offering our $5/hour yard raking services. Some of the best hard labor of my life. Ha.
Needless to say, I absolutely love fall. The smell of it reminds me of school, of Halloween, of turkey and Thanksgiving, of mittens and scarves. Where I live in California, the weather doesn’t change into four distinct seasons. It’s more like 2 1/2. Summer, spring, and rain. The trees don’t burst into flames of unbelievably beautiful autumn colors. The air outside doesn’t suddenly feel crisp and clean. It’s hard to explain but you can just feel the coming of fall. I’ve missed that and I can’t wait to enjoy it here. I’m actually looking forward to the changing of all the seasons here. Even winter. But maybe check in with me again when winter is actually here. I might have changed my story.
The twins and I are back to our weekday routine. Card games, puzzles, painting, and movies. I’ve tried to suggest the zoo multiple times but it never ends up happening. Weather or lack of planning or tennis lessons. The girls have requested going to the Olympic tower but that fell. We need to get out of the house, out of the neighborhood, and out to see the city. Seriously, we just stay home all the time. It gets to be pretty boring. One of these days I’m just going to ask her if I can take them to Marienplatz or something for ice cream and a fancy lunch. At least it’s somewhere.
Coming up this week – the family is going away again, this time to Frankfurt and I am having another dinner party here at the house with a few friends. Not sure on the culinary theme yet. Some time this weekend, we’re going to Dachau which was the first Nazi concentration camp in Germany. I’m looking forward to seeing it but at the same time, I’m not. That’s really hard history to bare witness to, even 70 years later. Every movie or documentary that I’ve watched on concentration camps or the Holocaust (The Boy in the Striped Pajamas, HELLO?!) has brought me to weeping tears so I can only imagine how this will affect me. To be standing right there knowing what happened all of those years ago… damn. It’ll be rough.
Anyway, that’s it for now. Kind of a pointless blog post, isn’t it? Haha. Never! Although, I did forget to say that I definitely think I am cheating with all of this “American” food that I’ve brought back from Garmisch. Today I made a grilled cheese sandwich with Kraft sharp cheddar and for the last three mornings, I’ve had a blueberry bagel with cream cheese for breakfast. I now put ranch dressing on my salad and yellow mustard on my sandwiches and eat it with my french fries. It’s kind of like I’m cheating on German culture or something. And getting fat again. Haha. Damn you, American food. I love you but I can’t wait until you’re gone again.
Now I’m really leaving. But first, a random picture of Munich because, to be honest, Neus Rathaus never gets old.
Oh, and P.S. - Yes, Harry you are my official photographer (at least when you’re capturing better pictures than I am and let’s face it, that’s a lot) and lots of kudos to Lauren Beckwith, a former Munich au pair who doesn’t even know me but still sent me a really nice Facebook message about how much she appreciates this blog and wants me to keep writing it. Don’t worry, so long as I’m still an au pair in Munich, I will! And keep reading!