More Livestock and Machinery (going back to my roots)

Karl and I spent the weekend at Opa Paul's. Well I had to work the Sunday shift, but we did a test-run of a sleepover. Saturday I took Karl to Schmitten, which is a hamlet of two farms, one on a hill, one on the shore of a large fish-pond. I spent most of my childhood's weekends and summer vacations on the farm on the hill, where we used to rent an apartment. The farmers were of course quite curious to meet the next generation Kreye. So after Karl sat through an extensive catching-up-chat in the farm kitchen, he was treated to a tractor lesson by a real pro. Alfons already taught me the art of tractor driving and haying with a tedder, back when he was the "Jungbauer", which is something like the crown-prince on a farm, waiting for his turn to run the property, and I was about seven. He also taught me how to shoot birds with a small-caliber rifle. Two skills I haven't used since, but as my friends in the peak-oil-movement tell me, they could come in handy soon. No more solo-driving for kids on the new types of tractors though. That yellow thing has the cockpit of a jet and the appearance of a monster-truck, so I guess in the case of a loss of control (as happened to me once) you wouldn't just flatten a fence, but the whole farm.

Karl also got to inspect the resident livestock, namely cows, pigs and calves. He had quite a respect for the little cows, warming up slowly. We also got to observe the milking procedures, skillfully executed by Christian, Alfons' son who is in charge of the property now, and his wive Franziska, who got a kick out of curious city-boy Karl checking out the massive machinery attached to the humongous udders (too dark to photograph unfortunately).



The visit was toped with a real tractor ride with Alfons. Truth to be told the ride only lasted a few yards, since Karl wasn't too fond of loud engine noises and severely vibrating steel frames. He preferred to watch the feed distribution by tractor from the safety of my arm. Well, we got an open invitation to come back, so we can improve on cow-handling, tractor-riding and also check out the fishery and poultry action. I was also assured that Karl's fixation on machinery and consequently muted interest in livestock is normal in boys. According to Alfons' wife Maria this preference tends to last a lifetime.

Peace And War

Henri has been pretty happy lying flat on his back in his crib for the past couple of weeks. We thought it's time for him to participate a little more in all the action that's going on though so we introduced him to our Baby Björn bouncer. I think he's digging it. And his brother can finally show him the ropes eye to eye.



But since in Karl's world peacefulness is totally overrated his room was turned into this later that very afternoon.

Thank you Amelie for recording the action – and putting everything back together – while I wouldn't dare leave the kitchen.

Times Change

Sometimes I feel a little bad. When Karl was Henri's age, I took him to extended daily walks along the river or through the park, where he would breath nothing but fresh Bavarian air and hear nothing but birds chirping and dogs barking. It's very different this time around: Many afternoons revolve around ice cream parlors and/or loud constructions sites. There's plenty of both in town these days. Luckily Henri doesn't seem to mind. And yes, the most time af all we still spend at the local playgrounds.



Please notice how Karl is carefully choosing his ice cream flavors according to his outfits. Yesterday he chose peppermint chocolate matching his green pants, today – as you can see in the first picture – he chose strawberry, matching his cool stripey shirt he got from his friend the Bru.

On a different note: Check out these amazing peonies Andrian got me for our wedding anniversary. Aren't they almost better than the ones we had back then?

Livestock and Machinery

Today we went to check on how happy the pigs really are who are made into all that happy pork we've been consuming (true to the old Bavarian proverb "Lotsa pork on my fork, because that pig's succulent meat, is all I really wanna eat"). Turns out they are a very happy bunch of pigs, all spotted of course, as all happy pigs should be. They were taking big fat pig-naps in the balmy breeze that so mercyfully blew in the right direction, so the neighboring beer garden was spared the olfactory sensations coming with the whole happy pig thing. The whole and a beer garden in the shades of huge chestnut trees (as is mandatory for Bavarian beer gardens). On the horizon our skyline towered over the landscape, namely the massive mountain ranges of the Alps. So there I was with the most beautiful wife and the two cutest kids in the world enjoying top of the line pork products and a rather slackey afternoon. Henri was just thrilled to look up into the deep green foliage of the trees. Karl was a bit more demanding, but hey, besides the pigs there was plenty of poultry running around, cows, goats, sheep, bunnies and of course - heavy machinery! Fred's been wondering where that obsession with heavy machinery comes from. All his friends kinda like diggers and trucks and tractors, but Karl absolutely, passionately loves them. So after a day with happy lifestock and accessible heavy machinery he was really sad to leave this place. He was very happy to agree to our proposal that he'll just hang around a bit and come back to town a bit later with the tractor by himself. And he was a bit disappointed when he learned that this was just another lesson in the never-ending irony boot camp that is his childhood.

Puns and Roses

Munich never promised us a rose garden, but there actually is one. No really. Rather nice one actually, just off the Isar trails a few yards before you hit Ms. Fingerle's kiosque under the railroad bridge. Too early for roses, but the lilacs were out in full bloom and Karl got into his cute overdrive mode, picking daisies and buttercups for us, digging his paws deep into the fresh soil of the rose fields. After the rather thorny stretch of rain for weeks on... after the last weeks weren't exactly a bed of roses metereologically speaking... ok, enough. After enjoying some ice cream at the rose garden we ventured on to the beach at the river banks. The highlight of the afternoon was of course the arrival of the steam engine on the bridge. It's the pride of some nerdy steam engine fan club who drives it around Munich once in a while, stopping on all Isar bridges, giving passersby and passengers a chance to wave at each other in a kinda frantic way.



Karl got a bit scared by the very loud whistle, but the excitement lasted well into the night, because he had to reenact the whistling train stop with his vintage Fisher Price circus steam train many a times. All the while Henri found all this action around his baby carriage kind of amusing. Even though he was a bit on the grumpy side after Fred had fabulously talked our favorite restaurant by this Michelin star rated cook into delivering a four course dinner to our place for our anniversary on Friday. Which was very, very fabulous and glamourous, but probably had some stuff in it, that didn't agree with a two-month-old just yet. Karl was all big brother though and played him his music box, sang him a lullaby and patted his little head. Have mentioned that Karl is always greeted with a smile by Henri?

Soccer Mom Says...

Andrian has this whole theory about how only the best should be good enough and that that's why our sons are supposed to be Bayern München fans. Of course I do not agree at all. Look at how relaxed you can be if you don't have to win all the time. Also – isn't it somewhat easy to cheer for those who always win? Risktakers don't do that, right? (For all you ignorants out there: Henri is wearing an Eintracht Frankfurt onesie his honorary godmother Maria, mother of Paule and Eva Lia, from the beautiful city of Frankfurt gave him – Thank you!)

Two Months

Not a lot to say here other than: GET YOUR DAUGHTERS (and/or sons – to be politically correct) TO A SAFE PLACE!!!

Mayvember

That's what they call this godforsaken weather around here. It's been continuously around 52 Fahrenheit for the past days (weeks? months?) with grey skies and drizzle. So the whole town's kinda on edge. Cabin fever stopped being a colloquial and became a real pathology. The boys've been good so far. Well, Henri's actually glad not to have to digest too many new stimuli. Although he's in gym class now. At that age that means working on his lying down skills while mom does some major massaging. Karl used to love it and his class actually evolved into some lasting friendships. So this weekend Henri was treated to some private training sessions. And he did enjoy them very much. Of course that might have been due to the fact that Karl was simultaneously reading his heavy construction machinery catalogues to him.

After the pleasant Saturday, Sunday turned into one big snafu pile-up. First I took on an extra Sunday shift, because the plan was to take Karl out to grandpa Paul, so Henri and Fred can do some serious heavy lounging. Well first there was some Seeshaupt party plans that cut the Sunday option short, then Karl caught a nasty cold, so going out there was kinda out of the question, then he started the day with a short, but violent bout of stomach bug. So Fred ended up spending her day speed-commuting between the washer-dryer-section, the bassinet and the book-reading sofa while I had to go to work, where more snafus and unforeseen chores ate up all my attention. The over-all foulness of the mood was surprisingly low tonight though. Well, Karl got to take his new toys (arriving very timely in parcel from his Frankfurt posse yesterday) to the playground (his Northern Atlantic lobster trawler outfit kinda illustrates the local weather conditions), Fred and me caught the local Italian take-out in finest form and Henri, well, his happiness ante can sometimes be upped quite a bit with a few tickles and a good helping of milk. So now snafus turn into snoring. And if you ever fell asleep to the sound of two little boys snoring (even if you have to listen really closely), you know Mayvember can't have nothing on you.

Planes'n things

What's to do on a chilly, drizzly day? Visit another museum. So we made the treck out to the Flugwerft Schleissheim, an outpost of the Deutsche Museum we've frequented a few times in the past months. The "Flugwerft" is the old airfield of the Bavarian Airforce established in 1912 just in time for our first foray into establishing ourselves as the really bad guys of the 20th century. The place is a bit like the set for "Operation Valkyrie" with the naziesque airport buildings, sinister forests and all, but since it's mainly a science and technology museum Karl was all into it. I was again kinda surprised how unfiltered and unapologetic those Deutsches Museum curator guys are into the military history of aviation though, which in Germany of course mostly means a swastika on the tailplane fin and/ or an Iron Cross on the side. Even the educational videos stretch the fact that the V1 and V2 rockets made it all the way to London in a more technical achievement way. Well, that excursion wasn't about my tastes. So Karl got to sit in some 1970s jet-fighter cockpit and no, I didn't tell him to go "strafe some gook village" as the warpaint on the fuselage suggested, but just pointed out the wide array of buttons, levers and instruments necessary to fly an airplane, not going into details like the red trigger or the bomb release. We ended up hanging out at the kids' flying circus, where children get to fly wooden model airplanes on a string in a kind of vaulting type setup. Also he likes helicopters better than planes he told me. So we better get him into the Harvard MBA program soon, so he can afford one.

...not just an afterthought

Of course we noticed that there's a distinct discrepancy in the amount of pictures taken of Karl and the amount taken of Henri. Which has to do with the fact that he spends most of the time in the confinements of either his bassinet or his baby carriage, while Karl's involved in a lot of photogenic kids' action. So here he is now, posing for mom in a recent session for the production of an announcement card to be mailed out soon (yes, definitely, just as soon as we managed to buy some stamps without being distracted by ice cream parlors or playgrounds on the way and to actually write something with a pen on paper before falling asleep and label the envelopes with addresses we correctly extract from the deep depths of our hard drives and all those things you gotta do to mail an actual letter, so - soon, we promise, very soon).

More Mother's Day

Of course there's much more to a three day weekend in the countryside than fits a mere blog. Walks in the woods to begin with. That bit of drizzle and wind didn't deter cousins Karl and Max to troop along just fine, turning branches and twigs into an arsenal of fantasy weapons of still unknown use and effect. There was also one of those modern swings for lazy kids, which can go really high though, turning more into a thrill ride than a swing. Then there was the impromptu jousting match with the mighty knights on their parental steeds charging into each others' flanks to the great delight of the aforementioned knights. When the rain fell down hard a horse carriage was flagged down and hired. There was extended meals and evermore extended game and reading sessions in grandma's and grandpa's room at the hotel.
Landscape around there was quite nice. No wonder our ancestors picked this place. This is actually where the Neanderthals used to live (and as we know now we are related to them). Each family kinda picked their path to get back in touch with nature. The more artistic minded Max posse frolicked in a nice meadow full of flowers...



...whilest the Karl party tried to get back in touch with their caveman roots (which according to other family members we never had a problem with in more urban settings either) in the famous "bear cave". Final outcome of the weekend was to make this not a biannual, but at least an annual event. So look for more country reunions in different states of Germany on this blog.

Mother's Day

We had a phantastic Mother's Day weekend on the Schwäbische Alb together with my parents and my brothers family. There was amazing food and Omi and Opa who didn't mind reading books ten times in a row. More pictures to come.



On our way back I taught Karl the Swabian national anthem.

Kleiner Bruder

Yes, I'm your little brother – and your point is???
(Thank you Maria for the awesome onesie!)

Fish And Hot Chocolate

Today Antonia and Karl served Henri fish and hot chocolate for dinner.



This is the fish. In case you were wondering.