Switzerland

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Years ago in the mid nineties when I first began visiting Switzerland and my at-that-time Swiss inlaws, one of my most memorable visits, and actually my FIRST visit, was at Christmas. We surprised them on Christmas Eve, when they did their celebrating: the ringing of the bell to summons the family into the tree room, the tree just lit for the evening; the gathering of the family around the table for songs and stories and musical instrument playing; the giving of gifts; the sharing of laughter and talk until it was time to dine.

Upstairs in the most magical Swiss home one might imagine, not a chalet, for we weren’t in the mountains, but something that resembled a small castle complete with tower that sat upon a hill overlooking a small lake and die Rigi and other glorious peaks of central Switzerland, my then mother-in-law had at the top of the creaking, old stairs a small dish of chocolates called Merci. I don’t know why I felt I had to sneak them as I passed by, one here going downstairs (merci!), another on the way up (merci, noch einmal!), but I did, and was greatly taken by their “European-ness,” these little chocolates in a dish, with the magic of a Swiss Christmas all around. On every visit to Switzerland, whether I was still living in the States, or when we lived in Germany, whenever my mother-in-law had those chocolates out, I felt somehow like I had come home, how special these were to me.

I never saw these chocolates in the States. For one I never looked, for another I thought they were a product that would only be found across the pond. But lo-and-behold, they have gone the way of nutella, toblerone, and who knows how many other “specialty” items that were only available to those who had the gumption to expand their horizons past their neighborhood Target store. I am thrilled that this candy can be found closer to my current home in the Pacific Northwest, but there’s something missing. And I think that’s the loss of the uniqueness of this chocolate, the specialness of something as simple as this small, German candy. Granted it’s simply a symptom of our global economy, granted I did not personally know the maker of it, but taken out of its environment it somehow loses an authentic context and  becomes nothing more than a commodity product;  now that it obviously is mass produced for an American market it feels there’s not much to value about it anymore,  it’s just something to have. Non, merci.

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Hat? Check.

Coffee? Check.

Wool socks? Note to self, get some.

Laptop? Check.

Cell phone? Where IS that? Ok – check.

Lots of books to catch up on? Double check.

Toilet paper for public bathroom? Triple check.

Ladies and Gents, I’m back in the Car Office again.

After a fairly short break in real life but like an eternity in web life, I’m right back here at Columbia Park, in north Portland, Oregon, in the car. “Where have you and your Car Office been?” you ask? Well, why don’t I just tell you?

But FIRST, some BREAKING HARVEST NEWS:

The bird netting is being taken off as we speak! Yoohoooooo! That’s right everyone. We’re gearing up for harvest this week. Boy those grapes are taking their sweet time this year! Have had some recent frost scares, some rain scares, but looking at the forecast for the rest of the week

we’re good to go. Scott says the sangiovese still needs some time, but the riesling, cabernet sauvignon, and tempranillo will be snipped by Friday. I’ll try to wing Sam and myself out there for some live, on the spot reporting…

Now on to me. Ha! Seriously. I’ve enjoyed this time away from writing/blogging and here’s why: When we first planted our vineyard, all our freetime went there. All of it, and boy, did it piss me off when I no longer had the vineyard fever like Scott did. We were down to one car, my old Subaru, my autobahn and mountain baby I had with me when I lived in Germany and week-ended in Switzerland, and then my solace when I returned to the States as solo gal, that old suby my trusty trusty on all my Pacific Northwest adventures. Nope, it had been relegated to the farm car, and we had a vineyard to plant, dammit! Anyway, I didn’t want to feel pulled in two directions again, especially now with Sam in our lives.

Some months’ ago, Sam’s daycare ended, thankfully, not that he had a bad time there, but I didn’t like how the gal tweeted about green sale sweaters and a lot more when she was supposed to be engaging with the kids. Geez, louise! That experience solidified how precious our boy was, and somehow I felt guilty to have put him in that gal’s care. I also finally “heard” the lyrics, when Bert sings to Mr. Banks in Mary Poppins, “…childhood slips like sand through a sieve,” and boy didn’t that tug at my heart. Having just moved into a new house last month (yes, there are loan gods!), I essentially have just been hanging out with our very sweet boy in our new digs, and boy am I happy for it.

But now I’m ready to return to this (it’s time!), and thankfully have found a VERY COOL nanny who comes to our home twice a week, and then I escape. Back in the car office again. Look for more coming soon.

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HIGHLIGHTS: An idea considered. Hawaii building musingsmusings.

COUNTDOWN: 39.5 WEEKS

With Week Three-Point-Five of The Little House On the Hilltop (TLHOTH) project now behind us, let me share what’s happened.

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