balancing spring

So these guys never cease to amaze me....the snow has thawed and as I was riding my bicycle (my old atala..didn't buy or steel anyhing yet) through the Englischer garten. It was a gorgeous day and so many people were taking advantage, basking in the warm spring sun, walking, playing ball and I thought I saw what resembled volleyball nets like we have back home in mtl in parc jeanne mance. But as I rode up closer I noticed that they weren't nets but ropes. These guys tight rope walk for fun! and the riskier and (drunker:-) you are the higher up you walk!

bicycle thief

They stole my bike, again! The first time it happened in Montreal 5 yeas ago (see original story)

This time it happened in Munich, just by my house. I moved here from Milano with my loyal rusty Atala that I had bought in Rome, but I was itching to get a 'girly' bike so I could ride with my skirts.













It didn't take long before I had noticed these amazing bicycles around town...Gazelle. They are basic city bikes and have a very vintage look and made for tall people it seems, my friend M.C. would look so graceful on one of these.
Anyhow, they cost over 600€ a pop brand new! It was over my budget , actually not mine, but G's. I figure since I am not spending the money allocated for daycare right now, I could spend it on wheels and it wouldn't be like overspending :-) My husband says that I even make finance creative.

Anyhow, we were walking around the hood a few weeks ago, and I spotted yet another 'gazelle' by a tree. It was not tied up or anything..."What a calm city, you don't even have to chain your bike and it's safe," said G. But my eyes began to sparkle and G. said "Don't even think about it." I sighed and turned away.

So I decided to hunt them down on ebay. I managed to find quite a few, but every time I went for the bid, I was out bidded. It was hard to accept that these bikes were going for 200€ USED. So I decided that's it, if the bike is not chained, it can't even be considered stealing...it was abandoned, and actually the proprietor should be punished. I just want to give it a new home.

I went out with M. for a stroll...actually by the time I got close to 'the tree' I started to sprint, only to find out that the god damn bike wasn't there!
This frustrated STAH mom will just have to make the economy go round
$$schaching$$schaching$$

Le cordonnier mal chaussé

As most friends, family and peers know, I used to be a landscape architect... I say used to, because since the birth of my daughter, my professional life has been on PAUSE until I find daycare, or stop moving around(whichever comes first). Nontheless, I never had a green thumb, nor a passion for plants. In fact, as a child, I resented watering my parents' garden during the summer," you can't go out to play before you finish watering the tomatoes ?" ( I had an adorable foto to insert here but i left it in montreal)
I must confess , at times I wonder if I chose the right direction.

About a few months ago , I decided I wanted some greenery in the kitchen, although I know we don't have much(any) light, I bought a rosemary plant. Now most of you with common sense would say, you can't have a rosemary plant in the middle of winter...but me, with no common sense says : if they sell it, it must live! Needless (or needles less) to say after a few weeks the needles fell , one at a time, and then like clumps. At least, I recuperated the rosemary for our supper of baked chicken and potatoes!

While starring at M. eat her avocado, I remembered seeing children plant avocado pits to grow a plant. Well my brain went to work, if kids can do it so can I!

I have a very visual memory, and I rememberd seeing something with water and toothpicks. So I stabbed the pit with 2 toothpicks , at both extremes and propped it over a glass with water so that half of it was soaking in water. I waited a couple of weeks and nothing. My husband G. kept smirking every time he passed by the mirky glass of water ,"doesn't the organic waste go in the bin", he said. So I decided to get some help professional help...google.

A great video enlightened me and so I went to the kitchen and threw out the pit. Went back to the grocery store and decided to have another stab at it. This time , I followed the videos' directions, and seems like a got it right. Well they said to wait 1-2 weeks, and it's been a month because I just don't want to rush mother nature.

But last week, as I stared at the pits trying to send them my postive vibes, I had to face reality. I looked up at G. and said, "Se tu fai crescere la pianta dell'avocado, io lascio la professione." (if you can grow a plant from a pit, I will give up the profession).
He said, "Se tu fai crescere la pianta della noce, io divento prete". (If you can grow a plant from a pit, I'll become a priest.)

While debating if I want to live with a priest, we brought home a series of treasures (sticks, cones and some moss) from our walk in the park with M. yesterday . I decided to put the moss on the avocado pit (because it seeks humidity and that damn seed has been sucking water for a month) ...well after 24 hours it stuck! So I may not be able to get it to grow roots, but I gave the bald guy some hair!

In the end, I'm still battling with the question but in the meantime have discovered that a dozen tulips cost 3€ and last a week, a far better run for my money and effort!

winter... fun?

Just a few minutes away from our house, there is a beautiful park we love going to The Englischer Garten which has an artificial stream running through it called the Eisbach

'

and this is what the locals do for fun, if you have balls ... and size doesn't matter because I have seen girls do it too! Not to mention that surfing is forbidden ... life on the edge.






I, with no breasts, let alone balls, prefer a more subtle exercise routine...carrying my 10k M. in one arm and a sled in the other to the park :-)

Sign language is for the birds

Although my daughter -M.is only 20 months old, she has quite a developed palate, in Italian we say buongustaio. At 9 months she decided that she was going to stop eating the mush, that most babies all around the world eat (she made that clear by throwing it on the floor).
At that point she started eating 'adult food'(cut up in smaller pieces btw, because she still didn't have any teeth) with her hands, why use cutlery, when you can lick your grubby little fingers...hmmm.

Now just because she eats with her fingers doesn't mean she has a fine palette, but the fact that she likes 80% dark chocolate' does. Back in Italy, one of her favorite dishes, was 'galletto con scarola' (cockerel with escarole lettuce). It may sound awkward but the meat is tender and makes an incredible savory broth. So the other day I decided enough of the 'wurst' (sausage) let’s go back to our mediterranean diet.

Not having a butcher close by, I decided to head to the only outdoor market in the center i know of, 'the viktualienmarkt', expecting and accepting to 'pay for it'.
I let M. run loose for awhile and when I finally found a shop that didn't only have sausages hanging from the window, I walked in. Obviously, the vendor didn't speak English so as I asked for cockerel, I had to flap my arms, like a bird. She looked at me strangely and pointed to some chickens....I said 'nien huhn' (not chicken) I looked at the poultry section, and came across, what looked like to me a 'galletto'. I pointed and she said 'Bird, from France, you know (flap flap with her arms), very famous'. Okay, close enough, I'll take it, the French are very picky eaters too!

Back home, I start to prepare the galletto as my mother in law taught me...oil, garlic, onions, sauté a little bit of tomatoes, then add the bird....and finally water and greens, and a parmesan rind as the final touch. I leave it alone while playing with M. and once she has run out of things to play with its done! I start to cut up the meat, and realize that it's rather brown. Maybe it's duck, I think to myself, but strangely the vendor didn't go 'quack quack' when she sold it to me?

I finally decide to use my German dictionary ...well 'junge taube' means young pigeon! And mine cost me 12€ probably because it flew in from France!

Needless to say, I am dropping the sign language and bringing a pocketbook dictionary, next time I go shopping.