The same wonderful Germany

I'm getting a little behind with my blog maybe because some stuff might be boring, a bit like being in Michigan until I turn a corner and realize nothing is boring and the same.

An example is yesterday. I was at this farm about 21 years ago and despite more gray hairs and new babies, the family is all here. Even the old father I met in 2001, he's still living at 93. It is no longer a dairy farm but eggs as Lisa keeps chickens. In the a.m. we went to church where most people struggled to practice their English before lapsing into German. I assured them it was all okay. I don't want people to feel obligated.

After a lunch of HOMEMADE spatzle, Markus (Johanna's husband) and I went to the barn to see about the rear tire. He helped and together it was done in half an hour. I got on the bike and rode to three nearby villages in again 30 minutes. I love kilometers.

When I got back Christa, Johanna's sister in law, asked if I wanted to go get ice cream. Sure, and just like that I was in a car. But this is Germany. We landed in a historic old town, Gelnhausen, and walked around taking pictures of half timbered homes and brick town walls and towers and centuries old churches. We walked steep narrow cobble streets where Christa explained she learned to drive a car. So after a bike ride plus climbing the streets and tower, I was thirsty, and before I knew it we were on a fancy street at an outdoor cafe eating fancy European ice cream creations. The same, NOT THE SAME. Here going to town for ice cream actually could mean a side trip into history in the heart of luxury. I'm always surprised.