Just call me Helga; I fear I’m turning German!

I was out and about yesterday, minding my own business but feeling pretty peckish so I went to pull out my packed lunch and then it hit me:

When did I ditch the sandwiches for sliced cheese and sauerkraut?!

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Only the day before, I’d absolutely reveled and delighted in succumbing to the purchase of a proper padded, down coat. I’ve coveted one for 6 years during the harsh German winters when locals all bust out their slimline but toasty warm puffas. But I’d never taken the €€ plunge. They’re an investment, let’s just leave it at that!

This summer I’ve lived in my Birkenstocks. I genuinely, in my homeland days, thought that they were the ugliest shoes ever. Now I wear them all. the. time. And I’ve bought a pair of very very German pink and rose gold trainers. I love them. James isn’t so keen.

We eat every type of sausage, or bratwurst like our lives depend on it. My supermarket trolley tends to be at least 20% pork products. Pickled cabbage and carrots are fridge staples, and who’s got the time for boiling eggs when the shops here have stacks of colourful, hard-boiled eggs for the taking.

No word of a lie, my children don’t know a life without a daily pretzel. They roam free at home with Oma in the corner house often returning Joe back to me after yet another session of his flower-destroying habit.

Sundays are a day for walks, (as NOTHING is open) or 2-hour long moans; depending on whether you look at it from mine or the children’s perspectives. And Emmie is so used to German being the language all around, that it was a thrill for her to be in English-speaking countries at the playground this summer.

The assumption here is that August and September are just known as Fest Season. A wine one here, a beer one there, with pumpkin and apples ones thrown in for good measure. They’re all the same. You may see a pumpkin or apple at the fruit ones but beer and brats just about covers each and every one!

And naturally Oktoberfest is on everyone’s radar from mid-September onwards. Then when November draws to a close, our weekends just revolve around the Christmas Markets, once again they’re more or less the same. With alcohol and food, in the form of Gluhwein and lebkuchen (or mulled wine and gingerbread) featuring heavily.

And I love it. I really do. The news today may be full of Deutsche Bank bailout preparations and Germany’s economy crashing, but the country has my investment. At least for another couple of years.

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