I'm alive in Germany (barely...)

Well, seeing the picture of my lost white mothers made me more homesick than I had expected. I simply miss the other three and feel like part of me will be spread across the world in about three days. However...the Bayern area of Germany provides several possibilities for relief. :) And amazing German chocolate is only one of them. Their house is in a small town outside of Munich, and on a clear day you can look across the valley all the way over to the Alps. The hills, undulating and covered in trees, provide an idyllic setting for a spring get away. (Do I write as well as Danny yet?) Last night I was able to walk around Marienplatz and hear the famous Glockenspiel play on the Rathaus. I had learned about that clock in every German class I took for five years. It's strange when book-reading encounters everyday life. Despite the fulfillment of a dream, I found the Polish mime standing by me more amusing than the clock and the midget-like guitarist and his basist friend who were wailing out Bob Dylan and Bob Marley (is that the connection?) more amusing than she. The clock simply continued chiming. People around me cheered when the figurines moved, and I smiled at their response. I watched the whole time, waiting eagerly to return to people-watching. (Don't worry, Whitney, I didn't try to determine the love relationships between any of them.)

The subject line mentioned that I was barely alive. Although Poland was great (no marriage proposals though), the six days spend there included a comedy of errors like I have never had on a trip. My mother tripped at the airport and all but shattered her kneecap. I had to handle all the luggage from that point on. I quickly noticed that it was too much, and I deposited bags at the lotnisko (airport) and then at the dworzec (train station). She thought she was good enough to walk, but after two more falls--one on the main street in Warsaw--I officially became the mother. Her knee was too weak to walk alone. She had to grip my arm as we walked anywhere, which finally prevented falling. We walked as slowly as possible, meaning it took us about and hour and a half to do what it took me thirty minutes alone. It was a stark reminder that my mother is aging. In jest I said, "You'll never see my children," though I started to ponder the actuality of that. Despite other problems--one lost passport and Auschwitz closed the one time in the whole year that we were there--the trip was enjoyable.

I miss you all and fully support the spring of the fling--though I don't know what I have done to set up anything for a fling. :)