What do I say?

Grief is such a difficult thing. Not only are we afraid of it in ourselves, but we are afraid, perhaps more so, of others' grief.  We look for something to say that will make things better, when in reality, we cannot make things better.  We CAN make things worse, however.  What do we say to someone who has just experienced a major loss in life?  As an intern pastor in the Lutheran church, I hear the whole range of responses, from the healthy ones to the most destructive comments and "answers". 

Why do we need to have answers for everything?  For some things there just are no answers.  We don't know why bad things happen.  We don't know why a young man walked into a Connecticut school yesterday with guns. 

This morning, I came across an article that I think everyone needs to read, listen to, and remember.

Dealing With Grief: Five Things NOT to Say and Five Things to Say In a Trauma Involving Children

These things apply to any situation of pain, suffering, and loss.  The words apply to situations involving children and adults.

Please read the article.  To these 5 thing NOT to say, I will add, "God has a plan." Sure, God has a plan, but this plan is for all people to love one another and to love God.  God's plan does not include pain and suffering.  New things can come out of loss and suffering, new ways of seeing the world or one's life can come out of pain, but these things are not caused by God to teach us something

May God's peace be with all who suffer, all who comfort, and us who remember the saints, young and old, clinging to God's promise of new life in Christ.

Zoe Dung Oatmeal

Ok, so I can't help but posting this. As I'm procrastinating on sermon writing on Saturday evening, I came across...

Elephant dung coffee.

Yup, that's right.  In the news article, it explains how the coffee cherries are fed to elephants and the process of digestion breaks down the proteins that give coffee a bitter taste.  "Think of the elephant as the animal kingdom's equivalent of a slow cooker. It takes between 15-30 hours to digest the beans, which stew together with bananas, sugar cane and other ingredients in the elephant's vegetarian diet to infuse unique earthy and fruity flavors," the article reads.  It goes on, "That fermentation imparts flavors you wouldn't get from other coffees." 

The elephant rescue organization, "Golden Triangle Asian Elephant Foundation, gets a whole 8% of the proceeds, which it puts toward taking care of the elephants.  No elephant harm done.  Would you try it?  I sure would.  That is, if I had the dough to sip a tiny cup of elephant dung coffee at $50 per serving.

Then I had this great idea.  Horses don't always fully chew or digest parts of their feed, especially those that wolf down their grain.  What if I picked out the oats that remain in tact from Zoe's pasture, roll them and sell Zoe Dung Oatmeal?  Shiney Granola?  Of course there would be the flavoring of alfalfa, corn, apples, and carrots from the vegetarian diet of my horses.  Shiney Granola would also have a special, most likely seasonal pear option. If I'm doing the math correctly, I could sell it for about 1/4 of the price of elephant dung coffee.

In case you want to check it out, and the great pictures: Elephant Dung Coffee

Pax.

Who says horses only leave hoofprints on one's heart?!?

The list of things I am thankful for continues to grow:

Dear friends, near and far who know me so well and love me anyway.
Albs with pockets.
Chapstick.
Riding helmets.
Madelaine's extra toes.

As promised, here is an update on Zoe's progress, or backslide perhaps it is better called. Last Sunday afternoon I was content and satisfied. Both services had gone well, I was happy with how my sermon turned out, and Sunday school was a blast. To nap or ride Zoe? With some encouragement from my mom, I drug myself off my pillow to go for a Sunday afternoon ride, and that felt great too... until.... Zoe was a bit hot, but not unusually hot.  Trotting quite nicely around the outside of the ring, we passed another horse (Zoe's friend Bernard).  I was waiting for her to pull something silly and was ready, but one can never be ready for anything.  I remember feeling her come up under me and the next thing I remember was the CRACK my helmet made as it hit the ground. I saw hooves scrambling around me and then she was gone.  The stars were spectacular.  Quite a meteor shower...too bad it was my very own private one and couldn't share it with anyone else!  Being stubborn and stupid as I am, I staggered around until I caught a wild snorting mare floating around with her tail in the air. Got back on for 2 minutes and decided that was a bad idea. Pounding head, churning stomach, crossed eyes... time to go home.  Thanks to my dear friend who drown me in coffee to keep me up all night.  4 days later, most of the aches are gone, but the hoof print bruise and headache are still holding on. 

Time for a new helmet. A week of lunging after a week of recovery.

Pax.



Let the rain begin.

A quote from a recent unposted-post: "Well, the sunny season on the Oregon coast has come to an end. I was so excited to see the sun this morning, but I doddled too long and missed my chance for a sunny ride. The clouds are falling, once again, though liquid form is an improvement over yesterday's hail."

Thanksgiving Day the sun was out.  I enjoyed a lazy morning before heading to church for the Thanksgiving feast.  Last I heard there were 52 turkeys involved in this meal.  This year, the meal rotated to Gloria Dei so the past weeks have been rather hectic in preparation.  Free and open to the community, we served somewhere around 500 meals.  I am thankful for all those who have been and continue to be a friend.  I am also so thankful for the new friends I am finding here on the Oregon Coast who are so supportive. Other things I am thankful for? Too many to list, too many I take for granted. Very recently appreciated is my alb with pockets.  Albs without pockets ought never to be created!

Story.  Early one week, a call came in, someone looking for a pastor to officiate at a burial at sea. Somehow I ended up being that someone. That Friday I joined 3 people I'd never actually met at the Charleston boat basin. As I walked down the ramp to the dock, the thunder began. The captain said, "There are already 12-footers out there." Off we went.  Thunder. Lightening. We didn't make it too far, barely into the bay, before our passengers said, "That's far enough." Hail. We had a little service under the canvas cabin and the hail let up enough for the woman to scatter rose petals and her late husband's ashes into the bay. We could see enormous waves at the mouth of the bay crashing violently against the rocks.  Perhaps a once-in-a-lifetime experience! One of these days, I must watch a storm from the top of those cliffs. When I returned to Clifford, this is what I found:

Some of my current projects include a gift drive for the teens of a local youth shelter.  The beginnings of a youth group.  Looking for an adult class topic.  Writing my 3-month intern evaluation.  Though, I also have many "projects" going on outside the church in my personal life.  I've been playing a bit with watercolors and Sculpy clay.  Zoe is rocking my world, in more ways than one.  First, she is really suppling up nicely, becoming (a bit) more accepting of my leg, and building up some schnazzy muscle over her neck and back.  All this leads to a fit mare with lots of extra energy (though she's not getting much grain!) and new muscles that leap us into the air or spook us across the ring in one move...and I LOVE it! (Zoe update with a different tone coming soon!)

I am also reading a great book, Writing as a Way of Healing:  How Telling Our Stories Transforms Our Lives by Louise DeSalvo.  If I remember correctly, one of my very first blogs was about how I was afraid to start a blog because I didn't think I had anything to write or was capable of doing it in an interesting way.  That hasn't changed much.  I still doubt.  I don't write now that I don't have amazing pictures and tales from adventures abroad to share.  I get bored writing and if I am bored with  my blog....who on earth is going to read it?  Ok, some of you might read it, but don't tell me you don't yawn. But, I want to write.  How do I break into my creativity again?

Pax.

Internship Begins

Madelaine and I have settled into our new 2br house in Coos Bay, OR.  There is way too much going on, but I am loving it.  My supervisor is great, the congregation is great, I'm finding my way around Coos Bay and North Bend.  And, my grey pony, Zoe arrived late on Tuesday night (a couple weeks ago now...).

Not all has been easy and care free, though.  Going back a few months (ok, now over 6), I started dating a young man in Germany.  I knew how difficult it was going to be since I had to return to the US.  Sebastian and I both agreed with Luther, "Auch wenn ich wüsste, dass morgen die Welt zugrunde geht, würde ich heute noch einen Apfelbaum pflanzen."  "If I knew that tomorrow the world would perish, I would still plant an apple tree today."  And so getting on the plane came with many tears.

The week before I returned from Germany, death reared it's ugly head and I lost my Ruffie Hunny.  More tears.  She was 14 and had lived a fabulous Chesapeake life in the country with lots of room to be a dog.  For a bit of reminiscing, see My Ruffie Hunny post from last week.

My Living Room

Then comes the foot deal.  I broke my big toe in 5th grade, yes, sliding on the hardwood floors in my socks.  If you've ever done anything like it, it's great fun...until you can't stop and run into something like the kitchen chair.  Can't really say what all has gone on in my foot since that day.  Perhaps I broke it again...and again...and again.  Perhaps I never let it heal the first time.  In any case, it has bothered me on and off since 5th grade and this spring in Germany it got so bad I could hardly stand it.  It kept me awake at night.  I limped everywhere I went.  But, I still had to run my half marathon.  Turns out, I ran it with a bone chip floating around in the joint at the base of my big toe.  I arrived home to the USA and headed for the doc.  A few X-rays later the doc said, "Yup, it's broken.  And full of arthritis."  That day I had the most painful encounter with a needle I've ever had.  Steroid injection in the toe joint.  How come everyone else gets a local anesthetic for steroid injections and I didn't? OOOOOUUUUUUCCCCCCHHHHHHH!  When the blood drained from my face and I threatened to pass out (or puke) the doc got all squeamish and ran off.  Sent the nurse back in.  She was nice.  Anyway, I spent nearly 8 weeks in a walking boot before I got fed up with it.  I'm happily riding and walking almost limp-free much of the time, though I'm not running yet.  It is so hard to be still!

Zoe's first Ausflug to Horsfall Beach on the Pacific ocean!

Enough complaining.  These few things have been on my mind so much these first weeks on internship that it's hard to remember everything that has happened.  I have already grown so much though.  I find myself fairly comfortable leading worship (as long as there's no pressure to chant or sing).  I discovered that I absolutely love teaching Confirmation.  Preaching is another story.  Well, not so much the act of giving a sermon, but the writing of it terrifies me.  The second week I preached was so tough that this past week my supervisor gave me a Thursday deadline.  At least this way I won't stare at my computer all day Friday and all day Saturday and for another couple hours Sunday morning, wondering what to do.

Now, the goal is to post more regularly again.  Discipline.
Pax.

My Ruffie Hunny

Thursday, October 4 was the Feast Day of St Francis of Assisi.  In celebration of the life of this animal lover, today, Sunday, October 7, I participated in the leadership of my first "Blessing of the Animals" worship service at Mingus Park in Coos Bay.  Nothing like a service of blessing for so many dogs to bring back memories.  I actually wrote this a couple months ago and never got to posting it. Or perhaps I have been avoiding it because it hurts. In any case, here it is.

A huge part of my life changed on Thursday, July 19.

In the spring of 1998, my parents picked me up from school (7th grade) and said we were going to look at a manure spreader for Bop, my grandpa. That seemed reasonable to me so I asked no further questions. As we pulled into the driveway at this manure spreader place, I said, "Puppies!" and a short time later, "Chesapeake puppies!" Still clueless, I started looking around for the manure spreader...until Mom said, "Pick out the one you want." That day, I took home an 8-week old Chesapeake puppy. Dead grass female. My Ruffie Hunny.

I had been asking for a dog of my own and had been planning what kind of dog I wanted and what qualities it would have. Ruffie ended up meeting very few of those, but what I wanted in a dog changed right along with her. No longer did it matter if she would pull the wagon I tied her to or walk across a board I set up from the back of the truck to the picknic table. She was the star of her "puppy class"... ANYTHING for a bite of hotdog. My Ruffie Hunny.

She was my best friend, though she certainly had her quirks. Throw the ball for her and she would look at you and say, "Go get it yourself, dummy." But a square of bubble wrap would entertain her for...2.7 seconds...until she had frantically popped every bubble and shredded it to tiny bits on the floor. Tie a helium balloon to her collar and she would bounce around the yard after it until she finally pinned it and popped it. Chicken fight? She'd break it up, and was also known to pin the chickens down and rip their feathers out before letting them go again. My Ruffie Hunny.

Then there was the summer sausage. "Yard O Beef" from Sam's Club. She. Ate. The. Whole. Thing. Wrapper. And. All. She smelled like summer sausage for 2 weeks and so did everything that came out of her, solid and vapor, from the front and the back. It took me a long time before I could eat summer sausage again. My Ruffie Hunny.

Chessie smiles. She had a great smile. She smiled when she was happy to see you. She smiled when she knew she was in trouble. She smiled (and sneezed) in your face when it was time to wake up and eat in the morning. My Ruffie Hunny.

And her first water experience. She, just months old, went to the cabin for the weekend and I took her out in the canoe. Not having a clue about water, she jumped out and sank right to the bottom. It was only a few feet deep and the water was clear so I could see where she was. After some flailing, she figured it out and paddled herself to the surface. Then she had to paddle her way home since there was no way I was getting her back in the canoe without capsizing altogether. From then on, she was a water dog. She'd spend hours and hours in the lake by herself, finding sticks and rocks and of course, dead fish. My Ruffie Hunny.

Any stuffed animal that made noise drove her crazy. One time my singing Pooh found himself behind the livingroom couch. When someone sat down rather ungracefully, Pooh started singing and Ruffie couldn't stand it. My Ruffie Hunny.

I have so many memories of her I can't even begin to share them all. She was at the airport when I came home from my first trip to Europe. She kept my room and bed occupied while I was away at college. I always got a smile when I returned home. When I'd go back to school, Mom and Dad would call me to tell me she was carrying one of my stuffed animals around crying and moping.  My Ruffie Hunny.

July 19, 2012. My Ruffie Hunny is gone. We had a great 14 years together and she was a real pill right up until the end. Ornery, hard headed, stubborn Chessie that she was.  My Ruffie Hunny.

Pax.

New Address

Yup, I need to start writing again. Sorry. Kinda got bored writing the same thing every week and not wanting to spew too much online.

Just a quick note this time, even though there is a lot to write about.
Upcoming posts will include: changed relationship status, dogs, bone chips and arthritis, and then the first experiences of internship on the west coast. Dad, Madelaine and I will leave early Monday morning (tomorrow!) for Oregon in my little red pickup, Clifford. Clifford says I have way too many books for him to lug all the way across the country.

And, many are asking, so here is my new address beginning in September:

Alyssa Augustson
621 S 10th Street
Coos Bay, OR 97420

Phone number is the same, 612 750 2835. It's so strange to have a phone again...

Pax.

München Half Marathon

It has already been almost three weeks since I ran my third half marathon...in a sea of orange. It was fun, especially as "Be Orange, It's a Way of Life" became a part of me at Wartburg College. Nearly 19,000 runners all wearing the orange race shirt. I was about 9 minutes slower than my PR, and I was okay with that. The thrill and adrenaline of running was amazing. I must say THANK YOU to all of you who go out to support runners during races. Your bands, clapping, cheering, bells and other silly noise makers keep a runner's mind positive and pushing forward. Yes, I know watching a distance race is worse than watching paint dry, but really, you are a huge part of what keeps runners running in a race. Keep it up!

As of tomorrow, Friday, I will have completed two courses of the semester. Three finish up next week. As the days before I fly back to the US become fewer, it has become more and more difficult. I am not ready to leave what I have here in Germany. If only I could figure out how to actually enjoy the rest of the time I have rather than carrying on with my being cranky and feeling crappy. Oh, and it would be nice to find a way to stop breaking into uncontrollable sobbing every time someone looks at me. Seriously.
Pax.

The Countdown Begins

My time in Germany is much too quickly coming to an end. I am ready to see my family and my critters. I look forward to the convenience of having all my "stuff", being able to drive, having stores open when I have a whim for something. Yet, I have found a family here in Neuendettelsau, too and it is going to be very difficult to leave them.

I look forward to the new adventures that will come with my internship assignment in Coos Bay, Oregon. At the same time, I am afraid. Afraid of the unknown. Yes, I realize that doesn't make so much sense after I up and ran off to Germany for a year and now I'm afraid to go somewhere new in my own country... but I am. Maybe I am more afraid of the relationships I will build in this new place, knowing that in just a year I will have to leave those people, just like I will be leaving my German friends.

Wilhelm-Löhe-Kirche in Fürth

Another thing that I am sad about is going back to the American health care system. I will have insurance, which is more than many people. However, here in Germany I have health insurance for a very reasonable premium and I can walk into a doctor's office for 10 Euros per quarter. But, I'm not going to get into all the political crap. There's enough of that everywhere else. Just one more thing about that. The Academic Dean of Wartburg Seminary was here in Neuendettelsau last week. He gave a lecture on the Occupy Movement and Liberation Theology. This was a good reminder that as Christians, we have responsibilities to be politically active, a voice for social justice. We choose where our resources go, and I am proud of the ELCA for being a denomination focused more on social aid around the world than on media attention and planting fear in people as a means of control.

Maus???

Friday, Dr. Nessan, Sebastian, and I wandered around Nürnberg, through a Dürer exhibit at the Germänisches National Museum, to Löhe's birth house (Nessan's connections got us in) and Wilhelm-Löhe-Kirche in Fürth. The best part about the birth house was the petrified mouse in the case with all the other artifacts they found in the birth room. The dude said the mouse needed to be displayed as the "last resident of the room".

Sunday is race day. This will be my third half marathon and I am looking forward to the experience of running in München with such an enormous number of participants. The number of participants (all distances) is capped at 18,000 runners. Of course I will be lost in the crowd. That's ok. I don't mind that.

Pax.

The mind games of running...and life.

I really have nothing that I should write about. Or, perhaps I should say that nothing I have to write about is of much interest, even to me, but here's a babbly update anyway.

Things have been rather wild in a not-very-exciting way lately. Mostly just a lot of things happening that could have more pleasantly not happened at all. Like, my hotmail account being hacked the other night and sending many of you all kinds of crap mail. Hotmail picked up on the event and locked the account...and since I was so good at not keeping my information UTD, my backup email address that would get me back into my own account has been gone for at least 3 years. So, stolensunshine16@hotmail.com is dead, likely never to be resurrected, as are the many special personal emails I have collected over the 13-years since the birth of the account. Wow, that means I've had Shiney for 13 years. The best pony a 13-year-old girl could ever wish for!

As I went about checking to see if anything else was out of order, changing passwords, etc, I managed to do a whole lot more damage myself. I lost about half my pictures, some of which I have on CDs back home and some of which I can pull back off Facebook, but some of which are gone forever. Go me.

One last little annoyance with that is that when I tried to skype with Mom today, the microphone was disconnected from skype and it wasn't until we had given up and Mom headed off to work that I figured out what was going on and got it fixed. Hopefully all is relatively in order now, though perhaps little things will continue to show up as time goes on.

New topic: running. Distance running.

I was thinking the other day that, YES, I really am beating the mind game of running again. But that was 2 days ago and I haven't run since. When I had the brilliant idea of signing up for a half marathon in München, the goal was motivation to run, a race to hold me accountable (especially since my riding has come to a halt, and a not very square one). It's not working so well. Now, not even the race is motivating me, though I keep sight of the shirt and finisher's medal. It helps a bit. I'm about 6 weeks out, averaging 3 runs/week, wearing blisters and blood, side aches, still struggling to make my lungs work right after being sick, and just not at all excited about the idea. I'd rather curl up with a blanket and a book. My run on Wednesday was the first time I came back feeling better than when I started. That's how EVERY run is supposed to go.

Of course I have to analyze why the mind games of distance running are much tougher for me to win this time around. It will be my third half-marathon but the conditioning is so much tougher when one begins training with no foundation to build on. My other two halves have come at the end of a summer of hard riding and farm work...a base from which further conditioning comes fairly easy. Don't have that this time.

So, looking toward the coming new adventures, I'm hoping to take one of my ponies out west with me. I'd like a year of pressureless riding... riding trails, hacking, just putting miles on my "younger" mare, Zoe, or enjoying the time and partnership with my Shiney Dimes. There are a couple major roadblocks between that dream and reality... like finding a decent barn to board at that is safe and affordable. The other problem is transportation from WI to OR. We'll see what happens. I welcome any ideas or connections!

Back to my blanket and book...
Pax.

Neuendettelsau Comes to Life!

May Day in Germany is a BIG DEAL. As in, there are lots and lots of celebrations and no classes! The day was beautiful and Neuendettelsau was absolutely buzzing. I have never seen so many people and commotion around the town. Carnival rides, live music, several Flöhmarkte (flea markets) some with books, some with junk, some more Basar-like. I also had the privilege of visitors from Wartburg College, Dr. Kleinhans, Dan and Maren, as they passed through on their way for May Term internships in Eisenach. The 4 of us explored all the goings-ons with great fun and amusement.

We happened to be in the right place at the right time when Dr. Kleinhans ran into an acquaintance at the library book sale. He took us to the basement of the library and showed us through the archives of Neuendettelsau. Pretty awesome...journals of Wilhelm Löhe himself and all kinds of cool stuff.

The rest of the group decided to head toward the Hostienbereitung (Communion Wafer workshop) to watch the demonstrations and I decided I would go back to my room and take a nap. Only on the way I made a new friend, Schwester Hannelore. As I greeted her on the sidewalk she started talking away. We walked a ways together (in the opposite direction of school) before she said, "Do you like coffee?" So we wound up at the coffee shop for an hour or so. Schwester Hannelore and I now meet Wednesday afternoons for a walk, coffee, some German lessons and sometimes supper in her little Bezzelheim apartment. A blessing for the both of us. The wondrous things that come about from a simple greeting on the sidewalk.

May Day came to a close with the singing (kind of) of "Stille Nacht, heilige Nacht!" (Silent Night) outside Dr. Kleinhan's door. Attempt to embarrass professor: Failed.

Pax.

Easter Travels Part II

Ok, so I've lost my motivation and discipline to blog regularly. I figured that would happen sooner or later, just didn't know when. But, I'm gonna try to keep going.

Staubbach Falls in Lauterbrunnen Valley

6-7. April
Our first full day in Switzerland was sunny and gorgeous. We decided that with the risk of continued wet weather, Lauterbrunnen Valley was our first destination.  As we drove the valley, the mountains became rockier, taller, more pronounced.  Soon a waterfall appeared here and there, looking like nothing but a trickle against the massive cliffs.  We parked Sparky and continued on foot down the tiny road leading through the fields and homes, down the middle of the valley with magnificent rocks, mountains, and waterfalls on either side of us.  We also spent a fair amount of time (in the rain) that afternoon and the following day exploring the city of Interlaken.  My dream upon returning to Interlaken was to go paragliding in the Swiss Alps, landing on the green in central Interlaken. Unfortunately, it rained. And rained. And rained. Maybe next time.

8. April
Easter Sunday.  Still precipitating, only this time it turned white. We walked in the snow to the edge of Interlaken where we found the little Reformed church. The rhythm of the service was very similar to the rhythm of a traditional service in the ELCA. The biggest difference for me (without full understanding of the language) was the Eucharist. Only once did I hear "The body of Christ given for you" and "The blood of Christ shed for you". It was said once for everyone but not to the face of each individual. That bothered me. The other thing that bothered me was that there was little indication that it was Easter. The preacher mentioned Easter a couple times in the sermon, but never did we say, "Christ is Risen, Alleluia!" There was no atmosphere of celebration. No masses of flowers, as I am used to on Easter morning.


After the service we headed off, in the snow, toward Schaan, Liechtenstein. I panicked and made Dad drive through the mountains, the snow-covered switch-back roads on which no one else seemed to think going slower was necessary. Once we found our hostel (a rather pukey shade of pink), we had 2 hours before we could check in, so we walked. And we walked. And we walked. And we were frozen and the only thing we found open on Easter Sunday (kind of cool, if you ask me, even if inconvenient for us at the moment) in two hours of walking was a tiny grocery store. Finally, we checked in and settled for the night next to a room full of dudes singing "Somebody that I Used to Know" at the top of their lungs.


9. April
Assuming nothing was going to be open on Easter Monday, we planned nothing but to hike in the mountains. After a long trip up and down and back up the mountain again (thanks to the gas gauge jumping majorly and freaking us out), we found the ski resort in Malbun.  Next we found that hiking there was beyond our abilities! Deep snow, thin air, and constant steep incline brought our hike to a halt about half a mile from the start. Yet, it was spectacular and sunny. I was too slow with the camera when Mom's feet decided she needed to make a snow angel, and we occasionally got too near the edge of the path where we would sink past our knees in snow instead of just to our ankles. One of the coolest parts of this little hike was the St Bernhard chapel 200 meters up the path.

By the time we reached the Neuschwanstein castle, I was tired and cranky and just wanted to get to München for the night. Miss Garmin took us well out of our way before we arrived at the castle where we discovered that the trail to the bridge (the part we wanted to see most of all) was blocked off by scaffolding on the castle. Oh piffle. I told Mom that I'd go anyway if she wanted to, but she had better sense than I did and we didn't go. We only got pictures from a distance.

 

The bridge we couldn't get to.

The Wombat City Hostel in München was another whole adventure. It was by far the coolest hostel I've ever stayed in, but it was a bit much for my parents. The three of us were in a mixed 6-bed room and the other three beds were occupied by 3 very nice but quite rowdy (and drunk by the end of the night) young men who I'm guessing were Australian.


10. April
It was all I could do in the morning not to turn all the lights on and say loudly, "Ok sexy boys, it's time to get up and have breakfast!" Really, it was an awesome hostel though. There was a huge bar (that we only went to to get our free OJs) and a room full of brightly colored cushy chairs and hammocks strung between trees. And, the breakfast was amazing.

We left the Wombat before much of anyone else was awake and headed to Dachau where we spent the better part of the day walking the grounds of Germany's first concentration camp. What shocked me most about this one was how several of the camp's buildings are still used for various things today. I guess it makes sense, the buildings are there and if there is a need, to use them... but it just seemed eerie to me.

Gate of our vacation home.

We left Dachau and headed south to my favorite part of Germany: Berchtesgaden. There we stayed at a little vacation home where we had our own little kitchen and living room--definitely a few steps up from the hostel life! We had a deck from which we could look out over the farm's field and the ponies grazing (in the rain) and snow-covered mountains in the background. We walked down (WAY down) to the city center and amusingly enough, the only real food we could find was Italian, so we didn't eat German as we had hoped. Then we had to climb back up (WAY up).


11. April
Hiking around the city of Berchtesgaden, we found the salt mines but decided not to do the tour. Perhaps we should have, but we didn't. Mom and I spent the afternoon snooping in the shops.

Königssee

12. April Hiking around Königssee. Beautiful.

13. April

We started off early with the plan to meet my friend Sebastian in Regensburg for lunch. First, we had the city of Ramsau and its famous Pfarrkirche St Sebastian to see. In the rain. Thankfully, Mom didn't decide to make angels in the river, though she thought about it. There was no rail on one side of the bridge we walked on...and when there's a view as magnificent as the church with foggy mountains behind, where one is walking is the last place one is looking!

Hintersee on a rainy day.

From there, we headed to one of my favorite places in Berchtesgaden, Hintersee. The clearest water I have ever seen tucked in amongst mountains and a little town on one shore. Across the lake is, on a sunny day, a view of Hitler's Eagle's Nest perched on a peak.





Steinerne Brücke (Stone Bridge) in Regensburg

We made it to Regensburg with little trouble. Then it changed. Miss Garmin took us to a parking garage, supposedly the closest one to the city. It took us an hour of walking by the direction of what steeples we could see to find the City Center and Sebastian, who was waiting on the steps of the cathedral. We won't talk about finding our way back to the parking garage again.
Rather late, we rolled into Neuendettelsau and tucked in for the night.

14. April

Franconian Switzerland.  We had lunch at a neat little restaurant where we had some of the best cordon bleu I've ever had. We watched fish in the creek a bit and then toured one of the most famous caves of the area: Devil's Cave. Pictures were challenging, most quite fuzzy. We looked around at some other castles and a monastery, though we were unable to get in to any.

Holy Blood altar

15. April
Rothenburg ob der Tauber. In the rain. On a Sunday. Even though nothing is open on Sunday, it is an amazing city. Rothenburg is one of the most well-preserved medieval cities, basically untouched by the war. The buildings are magnificent, in places, the city wall is open to walk inside. The two highlights of the day were St. Jakob Kirche with it's amazing altars and the Criminal Museum.  St. Jakob holds not only the  famous high altar, or Twelve Apostles Altar by by Friedrich Herlin in 1466, but also the Holy Blood altarpiece carved by Tilman Riemenschneider, a wood carver from  Würzburg. 

Though I've been to Rothenburg before, I have never gone into the Criminal Museum. I was absolutely amazed and horrified at the things I saw there. Wagon wheels with blades to run people over. Once the body was broken, the body would be woven into the spokes of the wheel and left for all to see. So many of the methods of torture had such a large shaming component. Many masks of shame, different styles for different offenses.

16. April
Mom, Dad, my school friends, and I had breakfast together...the traditional Bavarian Weißwurst, Senf (mustard) and Hefeweißen, before Mom and Dad hopped on the train from Neuendettelsau to Frankfurt. There they stayed at a bed and breakfast and flew out the following morning. You'll have to ask them about the rest of their trip home.

Triberg im Schwarzwald and Interlaken

Holy Week.  I continue to marvel at the differences in practices and rituals between home and here in Germany.  Sunday's Palm Sunday service had no procession, no palms.  The only thing different than any other Sunday (and reading the usual Palm Sunday Gospel text) was the fact that my friend was installed as a Prädikant, or lay preacher.  Of course, this event was a big celebration for him and we continued after the service with Weißwurst and pretzels for lunch.

4. April
An early morning of 4:00 am started this 2-week adventure with my parents.  I hopped on the train, half awake, and was in Frankfurt to meet Mom and Dad by a little after 8:00 am.  Their plane arrived and we found our little rental car, Sparky, a Chevy Spark.  After several hours of driving, we were out of Frankfurt and into the Black Forest, and I was almost breathing behind the wheel.

We stopped in Triberg for the night, an adorable little town in the Black Forest.  First thing we did after checking into our hotel was hike up to Germany’s highest waterfall.  Spectacular, even in the rain.  On the way back down, we stopped at a restaurant for supper that was advertising Black Forest Cake…something Mom had her heart set on having.  Only, she about spit her first bite back on the plate.  Yup, there’s alcohol in Black Forest Cake.  I didn’t complain.  I got the rest of it after I finished my half-chicken.  Then we headed back to find ourselves locked out of the hotel that apparently locks before 8:00 pm even when that’s the specified time.

I miss taking part in Lenten services, and now I really feel discombobulated without any Holy Week worship.  It only helped, not very much, to pull up and listen to “Were You There” on YouTube.

5. April
Mom and I each found a cuckoo clock at an off-the-tourist-track shop.  They aren’t the cheap clocks sold in the main tourist shops.  They are made right there in that building.  Many people don’t understand why anyone would want a cuckoo clock so bad.  I LOVE them!  And, the deeper gong of the longer flute does things to my insides.  Mom understands my thing with the gong and my insides, but Dad is confused by it.  Perhaps you get it, perhaps you don’t.  I wish I had a picture of it, but I don't.  Have to wait till I get back to the US to see it again.

We got back in the car and continued south through the Black Forest to Switzerland.  Somewhere not too far out from our destination, Interlaken, we came to a halt.  After sitting in traffic for 15 minutes, our fabulous little Ms. Garmin says, “Extreme traffic ahead.  Recalculating.  Drive 9 km and take exit…”  Well, that doesn’t help much when you can’t go ANYWHERE.  She kept repeating various versions of this until her only option left was to recalculate us how to FLY somewhere, but she didn’t figure that part out for us.  She’s gotten us where we needed to go, but rarely ever the easy way.  I’m sure after taking care of us for 2 weeks she’s going to need therapy.

Dad and Hostel Dog

Finally, still in the rain, we arrived at our hostel, the Funny-Farm Backpacker’s Hostel in Interlaken, Switzerland.  Within minutes of receiving our room key, but before we’d actually found the room, Mom was in fits of giggles about trying to get the luggage and 2 people in the tiny elevator, and then back out again.  I took the stairs knowing there was NO way I was going to fit.  Funny Farm.  Here we are.

More to come soon!

Pax.

Pictures...and...

From Wittenberg.

Schlosskirche, also known as the Castle Church
where Luther nailed his 95 Theses to the door.

Luther Garden in which 500 trees are in the process of being planted for the
500th Anniversary of the Reformation in 2017. See the giant Luther Rose?

Check out the Luthergarten link: http://luthergarten.de/english/



Around Neuendettelsau.

And for my exciting news....

Last week I received my internship assignment. Beginning in September, I will be joining Gloria Dei Lutheran Church in Coos Bay, Oregon as pastoral intern to live and learn and grow from and along side this community. Thanks be to God.

Pax.

Eisenach, Wartburg Castle, Wittenberg

Now that I'm WAY behind in blogging...  A few days after my last post (on my adventures in Nürnberg) I was chatting on Facebook with my academic advisor from college.  She was leading a small group on a week-long trip through Germany and was in Eisenach at the time.  11:00 that night, I asked, "if I get on a train early tomorrow morning, can I hike to the Wartburg Castle with you again?"  And so I threw some stuff in my backpack, slept a couple hours and completely unprepared for anything, raced to the train station (after breaking my 50 € bill in the bakery...the train ticket machine doesn't take anything over a 20 € bill).

Almost exactly 12 hours after our Facebook conversation, I was getting off the train in Eisenach where I found a room to sleep in and left for the restaurant where I was to meet the group.  Half way up the giant hill, I caught up to a group of students who I quickly decided were American and since they were going the same direction I was, they had to be Wartburgers.  After a great lunch, we headed for the path that leads to the castle.  Yup, THE castle.  However, it was so foggy there was no view of the top of the mountain until we were on it.  Even then the castle was pretty blurry.  Spooky and gorgeous.  The tour guide was one of the best I've ever had.  Using Lutheran jargon, sharing her knowledge about the castle was her vocation, not her job.  It was obvious she loved what she did, her enthusiasm was great but not overwhelming.  It was honest enthusiasm.  She took us through the Wartburg inviting us to envision ourselves in the shoes of those who through the centuries had created history there.  What was it like to be St. Elizabeth or Luther (Junker Georg) or a Minnesänger participating in the Minstrel's Contest at the Wartburg?  What were the struggles, the concerns, the sufferings that people faced here, alongside the celebrations?  This woman was doing her thing joyfully...with her heart.  And she wore riding breeches.

Luther Room

After some more exploring in Eisenach, some on my own and some with the group, we gathered at the train station for the trip to Neuendettelsau.  This was an exciting trip including no less than ending up on the wrong train headed to Frankfurt rather than Nürnberg and then losing one of the "responsible adults" at the station in Frankfurt.  The rest of us took his luggage and went to Neuendettelsau without him in only a little bit of a panic. The next morning once everyone was reunited and settled I had the opportunity to tour my own town with them.  As has been the case each time I officially tour Neuendettelsau, I am most impacted by the sisters of Diakonie Neuendettelsau.  The sisters continue Wilhelm Löhe's mission of social ministry... the workshop for people with disabilities, the bakery, the flower shop, the parament workshop, the communion wafer "factory" and many other things as their lives revolve around prayer and their ministries through St Laurentius Kirche.

Wartburg Castle birds that greatly amused me...
about 50 of them just standing around like this.

Things mellowed out for a few days, I read, I slept, I studied a bit. Currently I am in Wittenberg, staying in a youth hostel. Got off the train about 1:30 yesterday afternoon, checked in and thought, "I'll take a quick nap and then go wander the city."  Six hours later... I had enough time to grab a quick pizza at the Italian place and get back to the Castle Church (95-Theses church!) for the night Vespers service.  There were 3 of us there. It's a good thing the other two were good singers so I could follow a bit as I fumbled through the German of a service I barely know in English.  Today I met up with another of my Wartburg professors for lunch and a visit to the Luther Museum here in Wittenberg.  After supper, I joined the group for a lecture on Philip Melanchthon, Luther's "Little Greek Man", who helped Luther in his translation of the New Testament.

I'll get pics of Wittenberg up...mmmm...when I get around to it.

Pax.

Dusty Reflections

This past week I had the opportunity to spend a couple days in Nürnberg. One of those days was Ash Wednesday, but here in Germany the Protestants don't hold Ash Wednesday services like Protestants do in the US. Ashes on the forehead are viewed as primarily Catholic here. Yet, I was privileged to join a group of people from around the world (gathered for the planning of the 500th Anniversary of the Reformation celebration in 2017) for an organ concert in St. Sebald church. A Wartburg Seminary professor, who was part of the group, and I talked about how the organ concert was, for us, our Ash Wednesday worship.

It was a wonderful two days, even if St. Sebald was colder inside than outside during a February organ concert. Nürnberg's City Hostel was much nicer than the A&O Hostel I stayed in before. I spent several hours in the Germanisches Nationalmuseum, followed by the Way of Human Rights, the Toy Museum (awesome toys from the early 1700s through the early 1900s), the Albrecht Dürer Haus museum, Hangman's Bridge, and lots of little shops, including the Trödelmarkt (junk market) that consists of shops on a little island in the river.

Hangman's Bridge

In an antique shop, I found a stein and two pewter shot glasses--all 3 with horses. The shot glasses have farrier scenes and the stein has horses pulling a wagon of barrels. I decided the barrels are the pickle barrels that Katharina von Bora (Luther's wife) escaped from her convent in.

I have given up on knitting a sock. Now I'm trying to crochet a sock. "Sock" shall remain in the singular for now because I may very well end up with a sock-yarn afghan. Granny squares, I can do. Oh, but my wool slippers are improving. I discovered the liquid-rubber-sole-stuff and now I don't wipe out on the linoleum at the bottom of the stairs. Slippery slippers are fun, but that's how I break my toes.

Pickle barrels...

Language continues to be a comical barrier that we all get good laughs from.  Slippers aren't slippers. Horses' boots aren't vegetables (oh, come on, Gemasche and Gemüse? They're kind of close!). I also can't hear the difference between German-accented "Paul" and "porn" which often doesn't end up quite right in the conversation. Yet, I got an email this morning, all in German, and as I usually do, I skimmed through it without the dictionary (or Google Translate) to see what I could get out of it. To my very big surprise, I understood the whole thing! All by myself! Whoohoo! Ok, back to reading Sebastian's children's book, "Gebete einer Maus" ("Prayers of a Mouse").

Out my window one morning before all the snow melted last week.

Pickle barrels. That's almost as bad as being puked up by a whale!

Pax.