Falling Behind in Swedish

I bought two packages of lebkuchen at the airport in Munich. Lebkuchen is a delicious Bavarian cookie with bits of ginger. My father used to make it at Christmas time every year, and hang it on the tree. At Christmas time in Munich, you can go to the Kriskindlmarkt, and buy ornamative lebkuchen with lovely designs on them, and different personalized messages. It looked like they sold them at the train station, but I tried going to the Virtualienmarkt on Sunday to get some, because I thought they'd be fresher. The woman who sold me my train ticket to the airport told me that the market was open in Sunday, so I shot over there. Shops aren't open in Munich on Sunday. It's a Catholic city. I knew this, but I believed her. Of course, all the stands were closed, so I walked around in the sun some more taking terribly grainy, worthlessly small photographs with my cell phone.

When I got back from Munich, I gave the cookies to my kids. They didn't like them, so I ate an entire pack. They weren't as tasty as some that I sampled at a bakery around the corner from my hotel, but still, they were delicious. I just couldn't stop eating them. The other pack can be for my husband.

Once in my twenties in New York City, I made a big batch of lebkuchen using a recipe from The Joy of Cooking. I brought them to a German friend at Hunter College. She was very happy to have them, and thanked me many times. I wish her well. She's in India now, trying to get back to Germany with her son.

Following the edict to post everyday, but neglecting my Swedish homework.

I'll have to make a fresh batch of lebkuchen soon. I still have The Joy of Cooking. You can actually buy the wafers they use for the bottom of cookies at the HEMA.

Lederhosen, Drindles, etc.

I'm a little pressed for time here. I bought an hour internet connection, and I don't want to go over my hour, or have to pay more than is necessary. I think I have a half an hour left, and my mind is a bit blank. I've been in Munich for a day and a half. Today, I feel like I wafted around the old center. Then, my friend called me to meet up. I had dinner with his family. They're nice people. Still, it feels a little bit like flitting around, flitting, fluttering, but not enough flutter. I was supposed to meet up with a friend from high school who I haven't seen in 20 years, but I don't know what happened to him.

It's an old cliché of Munich that people wear lederhosen and dirndles. So far, I haven't seen any. There's the odd man in a loden coat, or with a felt hat with a feather in it, which is also typically Bavarian. Mostly, the Bavarians seem to have shed their traditional garb for the modern clothes everyone else with money wears in the world. It's a bit boring, the uniformity in dress. The range of fashion has become so limited. No more colorful, flamboyant garb of old.

There are a lot of shops selling lederhosen and drindles for all ages. You can also purchase traditional footwear. It isn't cheap. An outfit would probably run you about 300 Euro. I don't think I'll ever go for one.

I am wearing the German sweater I bought at the Rotterdam market a week ago. Funnily enough, I'm pretty certain it's a traditional Bavarian sweater. Of course it's logical, but I was mistaken for a German journalist in a gallery today. I wondered if it was the sweater.

Michaels Church, Munich

First day in Munich were snow flurries. I'm in a flurry myself. A friend's opening was a success. There's lots to see. I thought I might need a better, more fashionable pair of shoes to wear to the opening, but it wasn't necessary. In the art world, jeans and a T-shirt are always acceptable attire. Funny enough, I've dressed nicely here, but when I'm back in Rotterdam, I can't be bothered. I dress down all the time.

Munich people are friendly and helpful. They are always glad to show you the way, and they're generally courteous. I guess when you live in a city that's as successful and rich as Munich, you can afford to be nice.

I spent the morning trying to get going. The beer is pure, no funny ingredients, or additives allowed here, and I only drank one of them, but I still woke up with a headache that hasn't gone away with two painkillers. Maybe it's the shoes, or the cold, or the flat pillow I slept on last night. Tonight I'm in the Marriott, which should be kinder on my neck. The pillows are big and fluffy.

After walking around all night Thursday in a new pair of boots that were pinching my toes, I was still able to exchange them for a bigger pair. The soles are solid rubber. All I did was wash them off with soap, and the sales lady didn't notice. How exciting.

This morning I walked into a church in the old center of Munich called the St. Michaels Church. It was almost totally rebuilt after the war. Much of Munich was rebuilt from the rubble back into it's original, pre-war state. It's a lovely city. There was an organist playing, and I sat down and listened. Organ music makes me so emotional. I love listening to it. It brings up the depth of my sorrow. When it stops, the mood passes away with it. My mood changes with the music, following its depth. A big old church is a wonderful place to sit and think.

Sunday morning they're having a concert there. I think I'll go to it.