The Mysterious Mouse Murderer of Waterloo

You'll forgive me if I don't add a photo to this post...
Imagine my surprise yesterday as I walked through our living room, when something caught my attention. There, sitting atop a pile of sheet music on the piano was a mouse, deader than a doornail! It was clear that he had recently been murdered, but by whom?
I rounded up the usual suspects - three in total. Of course, at least one of those 3 might somehow try to pin the crime on our son Robb, taking into account his amazing appetite. What the perp forgot was that Robb left for the States last week. Nice try.
That left just the 3 felines. Two were quickly ruled out: Lily, at age 18, probably doesn't have the energy to think about a mouse, let alone attempt to kill one; and Big Max (or B.M, as we like to call him), who certainly has the size and look of a killer, has all the brainpower of the mouse - the dead one. He wouldn't know where to begin, going after big game like this.
So, that left a single suspect: the wily, young Gina, already well-known in the family for her skillful stalking of flies and small spiders, all of whom make tasty snacks (or so she tells us). It is interesting to note that, for two hours after the body was discovered, there was no sign of her anywhere. Apparently the criminal does not always return to the scene of the crime.
Later in the day, I made a citizen's arrest. Her sheepish look told me all I needed to know.
I think she's planning an insanity defense plea. Regardless of the sentence she receives, I'm sure she will simply sleep it off. Cat criminals are like that...

The Big Empty Nest

Not a great day for Mom and Dad. This morning we were a family of three (actually, we're four, but Charlie has been out on his own for a couple of years now); at dinner tonight, we are just two. Let the tears begin. Son Number Two, Robb, departed today on an American Airlines flight bound for Adulthood. He will spend the summer working at a sports camp in southern Pennsylvania, then will head for Temple University in Philadelphia, entering as a junior (he recently completed his AA at Anne Arundel Community College).
Oh, of course we will see him again; after all, he'll spend most of the next two summers with us here in Belgium. And on every business trip Mom or Dad takes to the States, we'll be sure to stop in and see both boys, if at all possible.
But the house is suddenly much larger, quieter, and colder. And, as if we needed any additional hints, it also means that Mom and Dad are just that much older.
The nest may be empty, but we are so proud of the two birds who have done the right thing and taken to flight.
Yes, it may be the right thing, the proper thing, and part of living. But nobody says we have to like it...

Rubber & Soul - The Autobahnkirche

One thing that probably makes the German Autobahns unique is their sections, here and there, without any speed limits. What I believe makes these super-freeways absolutely unique is the presence of about 30 Autobahnkirchen - freeway churches - scattered throughout the country.
Picture it: you pull off the Autobahn at a rest stop, visit the bathroom, buy a few beers and a bottle of wine (yes, they sell such things along most freeways in Europe!), and then drop into the Kirche for a quick prayer or two. Can't say I've ever seen that at home!
While the organ music is not "live" (it's played by a player-piano type of organ keyboard), the priests are. These churches are apparently not really designed primarily for formal services, but rather for a quick, quiet, solitary prayer session. If you've ever driven the Autobahn and foolishly moved into the left lane to pass a truck, then looked in the rear view mirror to see a Porsche flashing its lights at you and approaching your rear bumper at something near Mach 2, only then can you truly appreciate the value of these roadside retreats. Amen.

A Few Thousand Feet Closer to Heaven

That's certainly how it seems, here in Grindelwald, at the foot of the Eiger in central Switzerland. Unless you just can't live without a beach or swamp nearby, I can't imagine anyone not being utterly impressed - and refreshed - visiting this place. We spent 3 fantastic Thanksgivings here from 1989-91 but had not been back since. The fresh air, relaxed life style, and sheer majesty of the scenery all remain completely unchanged. Thank God for small blessings. Actually, these are pretty large blessings! From parasailing off a mountain top to blazing our own trail near a glacier gorge to riding at top speed down an aluminum summer bobsled track to buying the freshest milk in the world (just hours "old"), this gorgeous area gets a definite 6-thumbs-up from all of us!

Flying High...

And were we ever! Robb and I did some tandem parasailing (not together! Each one of us was safely strapped to a pro, thank God) while in Switzerland last week. To say that this was breathtaking is to say that they have some good-sized hills in Switzerland. All we could say was, "Wow!!"
In effect, you jump off a cliff in the car-less Alpine village of Muerren, about 3500 ft above the valley floor so very, very far below. You glide silently in lazy circles, eventually coming down nice and softly. That last word is the operative one.
The views? Just like the credit card ad says: priceless!
I had done this once before in Germany, but never got more than 70 or 80 ft off the ground. Needless to say, that was not the case this time...

Watch That First Step...

It's a doozy!
Robb "taking the plunge" into the Lauterbrunnen Valley in central Switzerland.

Not So Eternal Rest: RIP...For Now

In America, you might get a warning notice if you're late paying a bill, or if a subscription renewal is due. In some parts of Europe, you might say you get a "grave warning" when your plot "rental" is coming due. You see, here most definitely unlike the U.S., you usually don't buy a cemetery plot for eternity. In Germany for example, the hereafter lasts about 80 year. After that, unless some family member is still around (and still cares) to pay the cemetery plot fees, they simply "dispose" of the bones (I sure don't want any details: I think this is definitely a don't-ask-don't-tell situation) and throw the headstone in the trash! Your plot is then reused by the next poor stiff. Sorry; it was there and I had to use it...
The green slip on this headstone in a beautiful little cemetery in Bonn is just such a notice: contact us now, or else...well, you know. Actually, it says that your "right of usage has or soon will expire." There is no "please," "we're sorry," or "greetings." Germans do like to get right to the point.
We might find this ghoulish, but for many Europeans this is simply a wise use of precious land. You might say it's taking recycling to the next level.