A New Outlook

Today is absolutely beautiful. It is a holiday in Germany, so families are out enjoying the weather or having a treat at the few restaurants and coffee shops that are open. The temperatures are just above 70 F with clear skies, and the sun is shining brightly in the sky. I took this opportunity to stroll to my new building in order to take some photos of it and how different my walk through Bonn looks in the Spring. Literally, the town has absolutely come alive with color.

Amazingly enough, as I walked, I was even able to roll up my sleeves and allow my pale, almost translucent skin to visibly darken as it soaked in the first rays of light it had seen in months. Likely this few minutes of exposure will give me my first sunburn of the year, but better to start now I suppose.

On my way home I stopped for a cappuccino at my favorite neighborhood family-owned Italian ice cream/coffee shop that is only open in the Spring and Summer. I sat just inside the door since the outdoor tables were all filled with families whose kids were enjoying a frozen treat while the parents sipped coffee contentedly. It was delightfully cool inside, where it was just me and the Italian husband and wife who run the shop. It occurred to me how nice it would be to have a job where for 6 months out of the year you make kids smile hundreds of times per day. Sure, restaurant hours are tough, owning your own business stressful and the economy uncertain, but to spend your days literally handing kids happiness sounds like a pretty good reward. Anyway, I sipped my coffee, absorbing the sense of relaxation and renewal that comes with Easter weekend in a place where holidays seem to mean something, family businesses are treasured and the whole town is ready to explode with life at the first hint of warmth. It occurred to me that the long, painful grayness of winter might be worth the struggle since it fosters such an appreciation for Spring. For god's sakes, I could not help but appreciate the beauty and life-affirming hope inherent in a giant, hairy bumble bee today.

My weekend otherwise will be spent doing yard work with my boss on Saturday and making the trip to their house again Sunday to have Easter lunch with his family. So, in other words, it will be very much like the Easter weekends of my youth where my dad and I would work around the house all day Saturday and would head to an Aunt's house for Sunday lunch.

It is truly wonderful that I am A. liked enough to be invited to such things and B. know people generous enough to invite me along, but there is a bit of sadness in constantly spending holidays with other people's families. I always love my time there and hate to seem even slightly unappreciative because I really treasure these experiences. However, sometimes the fact that you in some sense really leave those families behind when you walk out the door makes your presence there somewhat artificial.

You may love the kids and spending time with them, but you never know them nor are able to care for them in the way you would your own family. It may be pleasant to have a conversation with a friend over a glass of wine, but there is not the richness that comes with knowing someone completely and truly being a part of their world. Anyway, it is an odd contradiction that sometimes with the warmth of an invitation extended by a friend to spend a holiday with those they love, someone can actually punctuate the underlying loneliness of being without those you love.

This afternoon I am going to do some more work, but tonight I plan to make a vegetarian feast. I have a giant head of wirsing (a cabbage-like green common in Germany during the end of winter), some fingerling potatoes and asparagus. I plan on braising the wirsing with the potatoes in garlic and olive oil, then pan grilling the asparagus with more garlic to create quite a Spring feast. I hope it tastes as good as it sounds to me right now.

Splashes of color on my walk to work. Given the recent outrage in England against the Google Street View photographer, I was glad no one seemed to express displeasure with my photographing their front lawns:


Approaching my new building. This tree literally rains blossoms in the slightest breeze:

The actual entrance to the building. It was originally designed to serve as the Ministry for Agriculture when Bonn was still the German capital:

Small, pleasant design surprises around every corner:


My office ... where the magic happens ... sometimes:

The view from my office:
The building exterior: