Kicking off the holiday week, Bop's class hosted a 'Parents, Pies, and Poetry' event on Wednesday. Her class recited poems, performed a play, and displayed a portfolio of work devoted to the first Thanksgiving. Bop opened the program, recited a poem, and participated in the play (she was an Indian); she performed wonderfully! After the program, everyone ate pie (Bop and I made a pumpkin cheesecake that cooked rather quickly in the convection oven) and reviewed his/her child's portfolio.
A bit distraught at the notion of being alone for Thanksgiving, I signed myself and the kiddos up for a trip to the Black Forest. Because the trip required that we wake up at 0430, I packed a bag full of snacks and diversions the night before and hoped for the best. Boarding the bus, I sat Littlest down next to me, Bop and Log behind me, and Matty sat across from me with a gentleman from (formerly) Yugoslavia. This gentleman spoke eight languages including Russian (which he'd overheard me speaking when reminding Matty to behave). Though Matty didn't respond in Russian, he did respond appropriately in English when addressed by the gentleman. Matty was a bit unsettled at the prospect of sitting with a Russian speaking gentleman, and as a result, behaved quite well on the bus.
Pilgrim Matty; this was his first Thanksgiving.
The trip was broken into legs traveling to the Black Forest. We were on the bus for an hour and half before stopping at a rest area off of the autobahn. While other participants made a bee line for the restaurant's take away line, the kiddos and I sought out the WC. After paying entry to the WC (children under roughly 36 inches enter free of charge), I heard Littlest exclaim that she thought the toilets were 'berry wonderful.' Stepping into her stall, I discovered what she she found so intriguing: one waves his/her hand in front of a sensor mounted to the wall to flush the toilet, and after flushing, an arm lowers itself over the seat, the seat rotates 360 degrees and is sanitized as it passes under the arm. Not only does this alleviate the need for women to undergo a quad workout to use the restroom, but it also leaves you with a warm seat! After filing everyone through, we discovered a Spielplatz, playground, to one side of the rest area where the kiddos ran amuck during the remainder of our break.
The brisk temperature fully woke the kiddos, and the next hour on the bus passed a bit more slowly than the first. Our first stop was a visit to Dorotheenhütte, the region's only hand blown glass factory. We were able to watch as blowers shaped balls of molten glass into vases and Christmas tree candle holders. One of the workers brought a still glowing candle holder over to the boys so that they could feel the heat emanating from the piece. Workers also offered the opportunity for guests to blow their own pieces, but not wanting to leave the kiddos unattended, I passed on the opportunity. We were able to walk through a museum dedicated to the craft with interactive tool displays and works of art. Just like Disney World, the exit was on the opposite side of the gift shop. As it's near to Christmas, the shop was filled with ornate hand blown ornaments in all colors, shapes and sizes. I held my breath as I walked through the narrow, labyrinth-like, snaking aisles for fear one of the kiddos would cause something to crash to the floor. Having safely navigated the gauntlet, it was back to the bus and off to Triberg.
Littlest 'blowing'
Diamond cut glass
Triberg is something of a tourist destination (evident by the bi-lingual signs), but it was quite beautiful. Upon arrival, the kiddos and I hiked up to the waterfall and down to the Black Forest Museum. Triberg is said to be the home of the world's largest cuckoo clock. We saw several shops that sold clocks, and the kiddos were enthralled by the intricate, moving carved figures when the clocks chimed the hour.
Triberg is quite hilly, and a thick sheet of ice and a blanket of snow covered the ground. The Croatian gentleman explained that many residents are plagued with twisted and broken bones in winter. Crossing an icy street, a gentleman approached and held my arm so that I would not slip while pushing littlest in the stroller. I was surprised by the tactility of the townspeople; many patted the kiddos on the head as they strode passed us. Because of the hills and the snow laden boughs of the hilltop evergreens, it was easy to imagine this place as a setting for magical fairy tales (in spite of the possibility of an immobilizing break).
The restaurant where we ate our Thanksgiving dinner; it was situated next to the water fall. Dinner began with an aperitif (sweet cherry). The first course consisted of a pumpkin soup, which was nicely herbed and savory. The second course consisted of cold salads: dilled potatoes, sauerkraut, a dill cucumber salad, julienned carrots tossed in vinegar, pepper salad, pasta salad with a creamy basil sauce, tomato salad, wild greens, and baguette and rye slices. The main course boasted turkeys roasted with plums (which lent their purple tinge to the skin), mashed potatoes, green beans, cranberry sauce, carrots, and sweet breads. Dessert consisted of an apple strudel, a cheesecake that was a bit off, and strong espresso. The restaurant began its life as an inn in 1608, and was outfitted with rich woods, tiles, and a large assortment of stuffed animals like foxes, squirrels, rabbits and other local game.
In front of the waterfall's base
Who can visit the Black Forest and not think of a kirsch drenched, cherry and chocolate cake?
Wonderful dinner. We spoke of our many blessings and wished that daddy could have been with us.
The kiddos were given Donald Duck mugs filled with strawberry and vanilla ice cream for dessert.
The kiddos enjoyed the teddy bear cuckoo clock on this store's front.
After dinner, the kiddos and I walked the streets a bit before subjecting ourselves to a non-stop bus ride home. Within an hour of boarding the bus, the kiddos were asleep and I was afforded the opportunity to speak at length to the Croatian gentlemen, who was a delightful conversant (he reminded me a bit of Garrison Keillor in that his stories tended to be anecdotal and entertaining). Finally reaching home, we settled into bed and slept soundly with bellies full of purple turkey.
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