Blog Name Change?
I'm sitting here in our pleasant room at the Edelweiss, enjoying the lovely view and thinking...maybe I should change the title of my blog? Because I'm pretty sure that Garmisch is heaven.
Nah, I'm too loyal to Minnesota. There's no place like home, after all.
I had a busy weekend. Saturday was Jen's birthday, so to celebrate, we went antique shopping. Do you guys remember when we went to Burg Teck a few weeks back? There are a couple of small towns at the foot of the Teck's hill, one of which is called Owen. I always think of the movie "Throw Mama from the Train" when I hear the name Owen. "Owen doesn't have any friends!"
But I digress. Jen and I got to zip down there in the Audi while the husbands remained at home with the kids, which was pleasant in and of itself. She and I agreed after we'd been shopping for about 2-1/2 minutes that there was no way we could have antiqued with the kids along. No. Freaking. Way.
The first store that we went into was enormous. It was part furniture store/part antique store. There were dishes and paintings and furniture crammed into every corner of four floors. It was dusty and cobwebby and made my nose itch. I certainly saw a lot of great furniture there, but since we were driving the ridiculously small and impractical car, furniture was not an option. We went through that store and the equally huge and dusty store next door. Then we walked across the street and went into another store that had less furniture and more junk. Room after room, floor after floor. There was a warren of dim, dusty rooms in the attic stuffed with stuff.
Of course, what do I think about the whole time we're looking at this stuff? Yeah, that's right. "Is this some Nazi's stuff?" or "What if it belonged to a Jewish person before the war and was confiscated or worse?". Really logical thoughts like that.
Anyway, that second place was great. I love shops full of junk. I don't mind going through piles of stuff. I bought some traditional salt glazed pottery there and also a piece of embroidered cloth that I think may be a towel. I'll have to take a picture of it and post it to get people's opinions. I found this item under a table in a room full of books.
All told, I got two pieces of salt glazed pottery, one wee little bright red jug with a handle, and the towel (or whatever it is), but touring through these places was like going to a museum. And as usual, having Jen along was a treat and highly useful as she could ask how much things cost and bargain with the store owners.
Yesterday I put in some volunteer time at the library, getting about 100 books ready for disposal. How sad is this? The library here can't sell anything or make any profit, so instead of selling books that might be a little damaged, have broken spines or torn covers or fairly minor damage, they have to be disposed of. And of course, there's a huge process involved that means deleting each of the barcodes from the library's system and then going through all of the books with a black marker and blacking out anything that remotely identifies the book as US Army property. I asked my friend at the library what happens to them...I was hoping she'd say that they get sent somewhere where people could use a book, but she says they get put into an incinerator. Sniff. It's a little sad. There was a lot of good literature in there, too. Madame Bovary, Doctor Zhivago...four copies of The Diary of Anne Frank. I said a silent goodbye to each one as I blacked it out. What a waste. Well, except for the Danielle Steel.
Hmmm. So, here we are in Garmisch after an uneventful trip, actually a pleasant drive down. We didn't leave until almost 3:30, so it was supper time when we got here. We have been lucky enough to make this trip in three of four seasons now...I'm looking forward to seeing it this fall when the trees change color. Any which way, it is amazing.
I'm sorry that these get so darn wordy. I always sit down intending to type a quick paragraph and end up with ten paragraphs of drivel!
Pictures upon our return on Thursday.
Nah, I'm too loyal to Minnesota. There's no place like home, after all.
I had a busy weekend. Saturday was Jen's birthday, so to celebrate, we went antique shopping. Do you guys remember when we went to Burg Teck a few weeks back? There are a couple of small towns at the foot of the Teck's hill, one of which is called Owen. I always think of the movie "Throw Mama from the Train" when I hear the name Owen. "Owen doesn't have any friends!"
But I digress. Jen and I got to zip down there in the Audi while the husbands remained at home with the kids, which was pleasant in and of itself. She and I agreed after we'd been shopping for about 2-1/2 minutes that there was no way we could have antiqued with the kids along. No. Freaking. Way.
The first store that we went into was enormous. It was part furniture store/part antique store. There were dishes and paintings and furniture crammed into every corner of four floors. It was dusty and cobwebby and made my nose itch. I certainly saw a lot of great furniture there, but since we were driving the ridiculously small and impractical car, furniture was not an option. We went through that store and the equally huge and dusty store next door. Then we walked across the street and went into another store that had less furniture and more junk. Room after room, floor after floor. There was a warren of dim, dusty rooms in the attic stuffed with stuff.
Of course, what do I think about the whole time we're looking at this stuff? Yeah, that's right. "Is this some Nazi's stuff?" or "What if it belonged to a Jewish person before the war and was confiscated or worse?". Really logical thoughts like that.
Anyway, that second place was great. I love shops full of junk. I don't mind going through piles of stuff. I bought some traditional salt glazed pottery there and also a piece of embroidered cloth that I think may be a towel. I'll have to take a picture of it and post it to get people's opinions. I found this item under a table in a room full of books.
All told, I got two pieces of salt glazed pottery, one wee little bright red jug with a handle, and the towel (or whatever it is), but touring through these places was like going to a museum. And as usual, having Jen along was a treat and highly useful as she could ask how much things cost and bargain with the store owners.
Yesterday I put in some volunteer time at the library, getting about 100 books ready for disposal. How sad is this? The library here can't sell anything or make any profit, so instead of selling books that might be a little damaged, have broken spines or torn covers or fairly minor damage, they have to be disposed of. And of course, there's a huge process involved that means deleting each of the barcodes from the library's system and then going through all of the books with a black marker and blacking out anything that remotely identifies the book as US Army property. I asked my friend at the library what happens to them...I was hoping she'd say that they get sent somewhere where people could use a book, but she says they get put into an incinerator. Sniff. It's a little sad. There was a lot of good literature in there, too. Madame Bovary, Doctor Zhivago...four copies of The Diary of Anne Frank. I said a silent goodbye to each one as I blacked it out. What a waste. Well, except for the Danielle Steel.
Hmmm. So, here we are in Garmisch after an uneventful trip, actually a pleasant drive down. We didn't leave until almost 3:30, so it was supper time when we got here. We have been lucky enough to make this trip in three of four seasons now...I'm looking forward to seeing it this fall when the trees change color. Any which way, it is amazing.
I'm sorry that these get so darn wordy. I always sit down intending to type a quick paragraph and end up with ten paragraphs of drivel!
Pictures upon our return on Thursday.
Comments
I am so sad about the book murders. That seems like such a ridiculous waste! Why can't they be recycled somewhere or sold again? I'm not following the logic.