Weekly Interlude 31: Spring Has Sprung

A Klimt Surprise torte!

My German has been in rare form this past week. Not only did I mail in my tax forms all by myself (which required navigating priority shipping and a tracking reference), I ordered a falafel pita to my specifications (no eggplant, please) and went to a print & copy shop where I asked how to print off a flashdrive, if the print card was also good for copying, and if I could use my American student ID to get a discount. BAM. I'm not only a foreigner but also competent now, too.

Of course, I'm leaving now in less than three months. Perhaps it's the fact that I "gave up" on my German, which then lifted the self-imposed pressure and thus allowed me to speak more freely. Whatever the reason, it's pretty great. I feel like far less of a fool than I did several months ago!

The Easter market at Schönbrunn

Speaking a foreign language is always difficult, but it is especially so when you're shy (which I am). I wonder, though, how my small-talk skills and general bravery when having to speak up for myself or make phone calls will have improved over this past year. If I can now call for a taxi and handle mailing important documents auf Deutsch, then what will I be able to handle in English? Perhaps I'll talk up a storm to cashiers and librarians when I get home because it'll be such a relief to be able to communicate on such a basic level. Think of the conversation possibilities: The weather! The latest baseball game! The book I'm checking out! Not to mention the commiserating eyebrow raise and chuckle.

Hand-painted Easter eggs

Meanwhile, the Easter season is upon us in Vienna, which means I'd better start going to some Easter markets soon. Though not quite as good as the Christmas markets, the Easter markets feature a wide variety of artisan crafts. Particularly striking are the painted eggs; some are real eggshells, and others are merely wooden eggs, but either way, they're exquisite. Easter is a huge deal in Austria (obviously, considering it's an extremely Catholic country), so Musical Munchkins is giving us ten days off! Since I'm sure everything in the city will be closed for at least five of those days, I'd better make a point to stock up on food, etc. There's nothing like being caught without breakfast when the entire city is shut down (like it is every Sunday).

More Easter eggs :)

I'm in for one more long week before vacation, however. (I can hear my dad snort skeptically at the words long week. I know, I know...) This is my last week of subbing for another teacher, which means four extra classes and a private piano lesson; I'll also have more evenings than usual with Lillian. I realize that I basically only work 20 hours a week, so why am I tired all the time? Is it because I expend all my energy around small children all day? Unfortunately, practicing and running have fallen by the wayside because I always simply want to collapse when I finally get home. It seems rather crucial that I learn to balance this. I suppose coffee can be my last resort.

The amazing roof of St. Stephen's

I've begun learning some new French pieces, though. I love French mélodie; Reynaldo Hahn is one of my favorite composers. My roommate and I are thinking about doing a joint recital in late May, which has given me an incentive to start practicing more faithfully again. I plan to do a French set (amongst others) of four songs by four different composers: Debussy, Hahn, Fauré, and Bizet. Here is Susan Graham singing L'Énamourée by Reynaldo Hahn. I might also organize a set of folk songs or Irving Berlin songs -- or perhaps some combination of both! The idea is to present a light, low-key recital full of music we both love.

And now, it's time to go to sleep so that I don't start this week exhausted! It didn't work out for me so well last week...

Weekly Interlude 30: Back to the Grind

Lillian is back!

Real Life has resumed -- though many wouldn't refer to it as Real Life, I suppose -- and I'm back to working more than six hours a week. Lillian and family returned from New Zealand in good spirits; most happily, Lillian was overjoyed to see me! (As we were buying flowers on the first afternoon together, she said, totally unprompted, "I really missed you, Susan." Cue my heart melting.) We've had many great afternoons together since, and, as always, the half-hour commute each way provides invaluable writing and reading time.

Musical Munchkins has really taken off, too. This semester, I'm teaching eight classes, ranging from Baby&Me (5-10 months) to kids three years old. The experience is certainly improving my small-talk skills, as I have to constantly chat with parents. (When in doubt, ask if the babies are sleeping through the night or if they're teething.) One of the teachers at MM is spending a month in Australia, so I'm subbing several of her classes, as well; this weekend, I worked eight extra hours! It's been quite the challenge trying to preserve my voice as I talk for hours straight with very few breaks, but I will say that I've been mostly successful.

Looking across the Danube

My voice lessons have also resumed. Currently, I'm working on Beau Soir by Debussy and My Lovely Celia by John Monro (amongst a few others). I'm toying with the idea of doing a small joint recital with my roommate, but choosing rep and learning it to perform in about two months is no small feat, especially when my technique is still growing and changing so rapidly.

The weather in Vienna the last two weeks has been shockingly gorgeous -- about 60 degrees Fahrenheit and sunny! I never realize how lethargic the grey weather makes me until the sun comes out, and then BAM! It's like I'm a new person. I celebrated the glorious weather by running several times and taking some long walks. In fact, some friends and I have decided to run a 10k at the end of May, so I suppose that will force me out of the house even when the weather turns cold again (which it already has, just today).

The Gloriette at Schönbrunn Palace

Schönbrunn Palace at dusk

On another note, I've been writing literally every day for the past month or so, which has been so much fun. I started a story (whose details I'm still keeping secret, for fear of jinxing the progress I've made), and it's not only ridiculously fun to write but also incredibly challenging. I've conducted so much research, and it's been fascinating unearthing the details necessary to create a vivid world. Interestingly, it's not always easy to write every day, but I've made a promise to myself that I'll write something. Of course, it could just be a sentence that I then delete tomorrow, but nevertheless, I've made a pact with myself, and so far I've kept it. Writing so much and so consistently continues to be a huge learning experience for me; I've discovered what sorts of things stump me and which I excel at. The moments where I felt most out of my element have so far turned out to be some of my favorite parts! The story is divided into sections, and after finishing the first one and a half, I realized that I needed to completely rework the first section before I could move forward. Therefore, I gutted the 55-page document and began again, thus creating something even better!

Schnitzel, Kartoffelsalat, und Bier

Kayla's visit last month was awesome and included such highlights as the Belvedere Museum (which houses an extensive collection of Austrian and German art, as well as Klimt's most famous work, The Kiss), Wiener Schnitzel, a ballet at the Staatsoper (Sleeping Beauty), Schönbrunn Palace, and some classic Viennese cafés. A too-short visit, of course, but Kayla fell in love with Vienna in just four days! It's an easy city with which to fall in love, I must say.

The Upper Belvedere

Speaking of which, it hit me last week that I'm leaving relatively soon. I'm flying back to the States in the beginning of July, which gives me just over three months. When I was so miserable and homesick when I first moved here, I thought this day would never come; in fact, I hoped not to make very many friends so that it would be simpler and easier for me to leave when the time came. Let me tell you that this plan completely failed. Not only are my coworkers at MM amazing, but I've met so many incredible people over here, both through MM and Jennifer. It's been super fascinating to talk to dozens of people, all with different backgrounds and stories that led them to Vienna. I'll miss the kindness of these strangers, their surprising interest in my own thoughts and adventures, their earnest and sincere well-wishes. Come July, I am sure my departure will be anything but simple and easy.

The Gloriette at night

So it's with renewed vigor that I tackle the city (and the continent, actually). In late May/early June, I'll be spending a week in Innsbruck with Lillian and Jennifer; I plan to spend the first weekend of May on the beaches of Slovenia with two of my friends. There's so much to do and see! And, of course, now that I'm mentally preparing to leave, my German suddenly seems significantly better...Funny how that happens, isn't it?

Weekly Interlude 29: Fish and Chips and Crêpes, Oh My!

A view of Parliament and Big Ben

It's time I stopped pretending I "travel" around Europe and call it what it truly is: eating my way across a continent. But tell me, between schnitzel and nutella crêpes, pain au chocolat and torte, how can I resist? At least I walk a lot to counteract the lethal effects of the tasty marillen Krapfen (apricot-filled donuts).

And walk I certainly did during my week in London and Paris! Given that I had so little time in London especially, I really had to take advantage of it. I stayed with my cousin in London and left with her at 7:45 a.m. every day, catching the beginning of morning rush hour. Monday saw me walking from the Westminster Bridge to Parliament Square, up Whitehall to Trafalgar Square; then, when I realized the National Gallery didn't open until 10 o'clock, I trekked over to Mayfair, circled down to Buckingham Palace and St. James's Garden, walked up the Mall, past Trafalgar Square again, over to Fleet Street, across the Millennium Bridge to the South Bank, and finally met up with my other cousin for lunch at Borough Market. Even if you don't know exactly where all those places are located, it sounds impressive, doesn't it? Or insane; take your pick. I was even sore the next day!

St. Paul's Cathedral

My London Museum Tally reads as follows:

• Courtauld Museum -- my aunt received her Master's from the Courtauld Institute and recommended the gallery. Let me pass on the rec to you! It's small with an incredible Impressionist collection and an exhibit on English and German landscapes. Definitely one of my favorites.
• National Gallery -- it really is all it's cracked up to be! And even though I didn't have a ticket to the van Gogh Sunflowers exhibit, I still caught a glimpse of the painting through an open doorway!
• National Portrait Gallery -- once I found the entrance (my unbelievably poor sense of direction never fails to amaze me), I walked through some rooms with portraits from the early 20th century, then headed upstairs to portraits from 1960 and on. Think Kate Middleton, Maggie Smith, Ian McKellen, Sir Paul McCartney, Queen Elizabeth, etc.
• Tate Modern -- not my favorite, seeing as I'm not a huge fan of modern art, but it was interesting nonetheless. I was with my cousin, and it's free, so really, what's not to like?
• St. Paul's Cathedral -- it's like a museum in its own right. By the time I made it after my long walk Monday morning, my feet were aching, and I couldn't will myself to climb up to the dome. But I did light a candle and visit the crypt, so all in all, a few hours well-spent!

Good thing I'd been to London before, so I didn't feel obliged to visit the British Museum again or the Churchill War Rooms. I did want to see the Imperial War Museum, but it's closed for renovations until July.

The Millennium Bridge

Tower Bridge in the distance

On my first full day in London, the same day as the Superbowl, my cousin and I toured the South Bank and eventually met up with my aunt and other cousin at a pub called the Crown & Cushion to watch a rugby match (Scotland v. Ireland). It was my first rugby match and very exciting! It's like football but more interesting (I know, I know, such a traitor) because the action continues even when somebody's tackled or the ball touches the ground. No whistles blowing every five seconds. Later that evening, my cousin and I went to Palace Theater to see The Commitments, a very fun musical (based on a movie that's based on a book) about some Irishmen who decide to create a soul band. Not heavy on plot, but songs by The Supremes, Marvin Gaye, Stevie Wonder, and Aretha Franklin kept us dancing!

Trafalgar Square

Buckingham Palace

What struck me most about London was the sheer diversity of it: the people, the food. Every five feet, I had a new option for lunch -- soup and sandwich, Indian food, traditional pub, Mexican food. As incredible as Vienna is, there just aren't as many options (although it is a smaller city than London, to be fair). Vienna is very elegant and traditional, whereas London seems bursting with energy and youth.

Meanwhile, across the Channel lies Paris -- and my friend Kayla. I hadn't seen Kayla in EIGHT MONTHS, so you can only imagine our reunion. I have very vivid (and surprisingly accurate) memories of my last trip to Paris four years ago, when I visited my sister studying abroad, so I was able to navigate my way from Pont de Neuilly to Saint Michel to get a nutella crêpe on the evening of my arrival. There is really nothing like a nutella crêpe from Paris, especially from the Boulangerie with the blue awning on a side street off Place Saint Michel. (I couldn't find the entrance to the National Portrait Gallery, but the random crêpe place in the middle of Paris I had no problem with.)

The view from Kayla's window

The blue-awning crêpe place

Kayla and I alternated between hanging out in her room (which has the most amazing view of the Eiffel Tower) and going to key sites -- Musée d'Orsay, Orangerie, Sacré Coeur, Eiffel Tower. The man at the ticket desk at the d'Orsay informed me that with my UK passport, I could get into most museums for free! (I believe his exact words when I pulled out my passport were, "Oh, this changes everything.") The Impressionist collection on the top floor of the d'Orsay is incredible, and as a huge Impressionist fan, I fell immediately in love. France seems like the right place for Impressionist-lovers, and I spent hours ogling Monet, Cézanne, Sisley, Manet, and Pissarro. I can't yet afford good-quality art, so I settled for buying postcard reproductions of some particularly striking works, and I plan to frame them when I get back to the US.

The view from Sacré Coeur

Monet's Water Lilies at the Orangerie are breathtaking. There are four per room, each stretching along a curve of the white, oval-shaped walls. If you stand a ways back from them, you can see the water rippling and the light dancing across the lavender and cobalt surface; the branches of the willow trees rustle in a breeze you can practically feel when you look at them. The paintings are, in an understated word, fantastic.

Kayla and me at Sacré Coeur

Sacré Coeur on Montmartre offered incredible views of the city. Back when I visited my sister during her study abroad semester, I wasn't allowed in Sacré Coeur because I was wearing shorts (which were, I'd like to add in my defense, longer than some of the skirts people were wearing, and they were still allowed in!). Inside the cathedral, I was slightly less impressed than I thought I'd be. St. Paul's was much more beautiful, though it's pretty subjective, seeing as the two cathedrals are designed in completely different styles. Sacré Coeur is only about a century old and has far less gilded ornamentation than most older cathedrals. It was nice to finally see the interior, however, given how I've wondered about it for four years.

La Tour Eiffel

Sacré Coeur

Kayla and I also visited the Eiffel Tower. No, we did not go up to the top; instead, we did the Eiffel Tower the way it should be done. Aka, we bought two pastries each, plunked ourselves down on a bench, and admired the tower while eating pain au chocolat and croissants d'amande. So. Tasty. Afterwards, we were caught in a brief rainstorm and took shelter under a little awning in the Champs du Mars park before continuing on our way.

In two days, Kayla's coming to visit me in Vienna. The tables will turn, and I can look all impressive as I flaunt my German skills and navigate us effortlessly through the city (just kidding). And, most importantly, I can introduce her to the joys of Sachertorte and Apfel Strudel, Schnitzel and Krapfen. Because, really, we're only in Europe for a couple more months, and there's still so much to eat before we leave.

Weekly Interlude 28: (And-a-Half)

Bryn Terfel!!!

It's taken me so long to get my act together and write this blog entry that I've decided to simplify matters and make a series of bullet points. MUCH has happened in the last week-and-a-half, and MUCH MORE is coming up in the next week!

• I met Bryn Terfel last week! The Welsh bass-baritone played Scarpia in the Wiener Staatsoper's latest version of Tosca. If you remember, Tosca is my absolute favorite opera; I've seen it at least five times in the last two years, and I can say that Bryn Terfel is my favorite Scarpia thus far. He was brilliant in every way -- powerful and sadistic and mesmerizing all at once. Afterwards, he signed autographs in the bookstore, as opposed to coming by the stage door. He sat at a little table with a beer and a pen, talking to everyone while one of his CDs played in the background. He had a great sense of humor, and I felt bold enough to ask for a picture with him!

Pre-ball

• On Saturday night, I went to a ball with two of my friends, Susanna and Lizzy. It was Susanna's high school ball, though alumni often come back. Let me just tell you how wildly different it was from any kind of school dance you'd find in the States. There were three rooms: the main room with live music, round tables, and a ballroom dancing floor; a smoky lounge upstairs (complete with cocktail bar); and a disco room off the ballroom (also filled with smoke, as well as strobe lights and a DJ). A school event condoning smoking?!?! Well, this is Europe. Central/Eastern Europe, to be precise. They haven't exactly picked up on the latest news that smoking kills. But nonetheless, it was lots of fun, even though I had to shower at 3:30 a.m. in order to get the stench of cigarettes out of my hair and skin. I'd also like to add that these high schoolers can DANCE -- and I mean waltz, salsa, foxtrot, cha cha, you name it. They can waltz in the ballroom just as well as they can grind in the disco room. I danced the Quadrille at midnight -- a huge success, despite the directions being tossed out in German (eins, zwei, drei, vier, ZURÜCK! zwei, drei, vier...)

• Musical Munchkins hosted its end-of-term recital over the weekend. Although my kids are too young to play/sing in the recital, I saw a few of them there to watch their older siblings. One of them even gave me a lovely lilac bulb as a thank-you for the semester! Now I need to hunt down a pot and some soil in this frigid January...right now, I'm substituting with a large wine glass.

Graz's Clock Tower



The colorful city of Graz

• I went to Graz on Tuesday (returning Thursday) to visit my friend Lizzy, who currently lives there and teaches English in a nearby town. Graz, the City of Design, is the capital of Steiermark, one of the nine states in Austria, and lies a two-and-a-half hour train ride south of Vienna. In fact, Graz is the second-largest city in the country (Vienna is, predictably, the largest), boasting a whopping 250,000 people. It's a very student-friendly city (there are six universities), and it reminded me of a Soviet-influenced Bologna. Much of the architecture in Graz sports Italian influence, particularly the archways so common in Bologna. To give you some idea of what Graz looks like (beyond the pictures featured here), imagine Renaissance architecture given a facelift with Baroque architecture, interspersed with surprisingly colorful Soviet cinder-block apartment buildings (thanks to the post-WWII reconstruction).

• Graz's main attraction is the Clock Tower, which resides on Castle Hill. You can see it from almost anywhere in the city. Apparently, Napoleon once wanted to take the bell from the Clock Tower, but Graz's citizens stole it the night before Napoleon planned to get his hands on it. Well done, Graz! Since it was so snowy when I went, the stairs up to Castle Hill were closed; we took the elevator instead, not that I minded... Castle Hill affords the most beautiful views of the city, made even more so, I think, by the layers of fluffy white snow.

  

  A pit marking the center of Graz

  

  Overlooking Graz from Castle Hill

• The picture here that looks like a giant parking meter is actually a giant, fake pit -- as in, peach or nectarine. A fruit pit. It marks the very center of the city, a "point zero," if you will. We found it hiding inconspicuously off in a courtyard, but there you go.

• Lizzy and I went to a cafe and ordered hot chocolate. But not just any hot chocolate. You choose a flavor (I chose Cashew-Caramel; Lizzy chose Cinnamon-Honey), and they bring you a cup of steamed milk and a chocolate bar in your desired flavor. Then, you melt the chocolate bar into the milk, wait two minutes, stir it up, and experience a tiny sliver of heaven. I cannot begin to say how amazing that hot chocolate was. In fact, it was so good, I drank too much at once and promptly started choking. But it was worth it.

• Today marked my last day teaching at Musical Munchkins for the semester; classes resume in a week. Tomorrow I'm flying out to London, where I'll stay for a few days with my cousin, and then I take the Chunnel over to Paris to visit a friend there. I can only imagine how chock-full Weekly Interlude 29 is going to be...perhaps I'll have to resort to more bullet points. Or a blog entirely of pictures!

  

  The Steiermark coat-of-arms

  
  
  

  

  Inside the Graz Cathedral

  
  

  

  The city of Graz

  
  
  
  

  

  An outlook from Castle Hill

  

  A pathway on Castle Hill

Weekly Interlude 27: A Lack of Photos, an Abundance of Books

I must confess: I did not take any photos this week.

"Picture of the Day" advertisement

Normally, I take pictures to help me remember everything I do during the week, the same way I write lists and journal entries to recount all the details my (clearly ancient) mind can never seem to retain. But this week...no pictures. Which in and of itself reminds me what I've been doing all week: reading and writing.

In memory of Leonard Bernstein

I wrote some recital program notes for my former voice teacher. For those of you who don't know, program notes are the little blurbs you read in a program -- basically, a mini composer biography and a few brief sentences giving context for the music you're about to hear. Since the theme of my teacher's recital was the three types of love found in the Bible (eros, philos, agape), I wrote an introduction tying it all together. It took me two afternoons and three coffees, but the research, in particular, was a whole lot of fun. Who knew that Gluck conducted a series of operatic reforms that significantly affected the development of French opera?

I read an article in Poets & Writers magazine that talked about the usefulness of taking walks to help aid the creative process. Apparently, walking (and exercising in general) has numerous effects that might explain why it's such a common literary quirk: stress relief, growth of new brain cells, inspiration/creativity boost. Charles Dickens walked up to twenty miles in an afternoon! So (and this goes for everyone out there, not just self-proclaimed "creative types") instead of chaining yourself to your desk and beating yourself over the head until your task is complete, it's probably far more effective to work then walk, then work some more, then walk again. Our brains need time to process information.

Vienna skyline, viewed from the Belvedere

My reading took another form this week, as well: travel guides! Musical Munchkins gives me a week off in February, and I'm planning to visit my cousins in London for a few days before taking the Chunnel over to Paris to see my friend. I've been to both London and Paris before, though a very long time ago, so I'm reading up to refresh my memory. But here's the dilemma: how can you possibly do London in two days?

The answer: You can't. There's absolutely no way. I can only hope the weather's nice so that I can walk around and see everything, even if I don't go inside. I also feel no obligation to go into every museum. The last time I was in Paris, I did the Musée d'Orsay and the Louvre in one day. BIG MISTAKE. It took me over two years to recover. And I think, even now, all the churches and museums I visited in Italy over the summer will tide me over on this trip; I'll pick one or two this time and be satisfied.

A colorful bench warmer

Inside Café Diglas

And, as ever, I'm on a quest for an amazing book. I know there are so many out there, but choosing a book to read is strangely difficult. When I read, I want it to be something epic, something brilliant, something that completely blows my mind. I've read so many book jackets, and so many of them sound good, but if I'm going to commit to a novel, I want it to be utterly amazing. (This seems to suggest I have control issues and want to know the end results before I do anything...hmmm. Interesting.) So after hours of perusing Barnes & Noble, I usually end up buying nothing. Unless, of course, I'm looking for a specific title that someone has convinced me will be great.

Being in a non-English-speaking country exacerbates this problem, as you can probably imagine, seeing as English book sections are decidedly small. Cue Amazon UK, Kindle Cloud Reader, und so weiter (and so on). The simplest solution probably would have been to buy myself a Kindle, but nothing--NOTHING--can ever be so satisfying as holding a real book in my hands. Even reading some quick fiction on my computer feels clunky and confining; I lose the kinesthetic experience of reading. I don't like it.

A view from an airplane

The good news is that I have several books lined up for when I get back home, all recommendations from friends via Facebook. The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern, The Elegance of the Hedgehog by Muriel Barbery, The Historian by Elizabeth Kostova. Just to name a few. If you have other suggestions for me, please share!

And now I think it's time for me to go outside and take a walk. Hopefully, it'll get my creative juices flowing while I simultaneously take pictures for the next Weekly Interlude and discover a new part of the city. I think the sun is even peering out!

(The pictures in this blog were taken in Vienna but not this week. I couldn't leave the blog completely blank, could I? :)

Weekly Interlude 26: Happy New Year!

A sign by the Museums Quartier

Welcome to 2014! The new year finds me back in Vienna, where I will stay until at least July 3 to finish out the school year at Musical Munchkins. I spent nearly three weeks at home, however, and let me just say that that's exactly what I needed to recharge.

Obligatory wing photo

I flew into Boston, just missing the first of many snowstorms, though that landing was by far the most terrifying I've ever experienced. As we descended, I could see snow cleared on either side of the (rather slick-looking) runway, and the plane hit the ground with a huge THUMP! that tossed everybody into the air. (That seatbelt sign is no joke!) Then we proceeded to pitch side to side, hurtling down the runway at what felt like dangerously high speeds; the thing with the Boston airport is that the plane MUST stop after a certain point--instead of an endless stretch of runway, you'll eventually just hit the Harbor.

Remnants of Christmas in Wien

After this stressful touchdown, the captain got on the intercom and apologized for such a bumpy landing. But we were safe and sound back in Boston, AND my parents met me at the arrivals gate with a sign and an American flag!

My sister and my aunt both came up for the holidays, as well, so it was a mostly family-centric three weeks. There were a couple things I definitely needed to do: go shopping on a Sunday BECAUSE I COULD (stores are always closed on Sundays in Vienna), go to Target (which inconveniently erupted with credit card scandal), eat delicious food made by my mom (I can't even tell you how glorious this was). It was super nice to drive again; my car (an 18-year-old Camry named Car) was waiting for me.

Finding a shell at Ogunquit Beach

As a surprise Christmas present, my mom took me to Stonewall Kitchen in York, Maine, where we took a cooking class--aka, we watched someone make food, asked questions, and then ate the most scrumptious meal you could possibly imagine--and then we visited Ogunquit Beach, one of my favorite places on earth. As amazing as Austria is, it will just never have a beach; no matter how perfect everything else is, it will always remain a land-locked country. I'd been very sad over the summer, thinking I wouldn't make it to the beach in 2013, but with just 12 days to go until the new year, I did! It's good to know that I love the beach just as much in the winter as in the height of summer.

Ninjabread men

Every year at Christmas, I make gingerbread people--men, women, snowmen; even houses, stars, and angels. Last year, my sister gave me a whole bucket full of cookie cutters; this year, however, she upped the ante and gave me three NINJAbread men cutters, which, according to their box, are cut out for action... So needless to say, baking for Christmas 2013 was pretty wild.

I sang for my family while I was home--mostly Christmas carols and folk songs. I bought a book of folk songs in Vienna and brought it back with me. Did you know The House of the Rising Sun is a Southern American folk song? Well, it is, and it's über-fun to play; cue me wailing away at the piano while my mom, dad, and sister sing dramatically at the tops of their lungs. I also entertained them occasionally with such classics as "Welcome to My Music Class" and the "Hokey Pokey." Once a music teacher, always a music teacher, I suppose.

A very snowy beach

Winter at Ogunquit Beach

New Year's Eve saw me cooking dinner, as I've done for the past four or five years. The menu: baked goat cheese and caramelized onion salad over leafy greens drizzled with honey, apple-stuffed pork roast, seasoned roast potatoes, lemon and almond green beans and brussel sprouts, and Bavarian pear torte. I believe I was cooking for seven hours straight with just a small half hour break in the middle. Craziness, you call it? I call it DEDICATION. Plus, if I do say so myself, it always turns out to be quite delicious :)

So it was with great sadness that I left the US again and headed back to the land of Schnitzel and Knödel. It snowed the two days before I left, though luckily my flight from Boston was delayed only an hour (thankfully shortening my 6-hour layover at Heathrow), and the flight from London was delayed 30 minutes. All in all, I arrived in Vienna completely exhausted and have been trying to adjust to the time zone ever since. (I did sleep very well last night, and I didn't wake up in the middle of the night, so perhaps I can say I'm officially over the jet lag?)

The moon & sunset from the airplane

Lillian and family are gone for two months in New Zealand, so now's the opportunity to take advantage of all my free time--go to the opera, read, take walks, visit museums, practice, etc. Now is my chance to do all the things I didn't have time for before. I have evenings now! Unbelievable.

Perhaps in this new year, I should re-title my blog "Susan's Adventures" because I'm starting to wonder just how artistic they all are. Nevertheless, I'll leave it like this for now. After all, who knows what the new year will bring?

Weekly Interlude 25: Krampus Is Coming to Town

A giant chair in the 21st district

I hope Krampus doesn't come after me because it's been such a long time since I posted a blog entry! Krampus, St. Nick's demonic companion who comes after bad children and carries them away in his sack (or flogs them with rusty chains), doesn't like excuses; but in my defense, I will say that I was living in the 21st district last week (the northernmost district in the city, on the other side of the Danube), and I spent all my time either working or commuting without internet.

A look down the main road of the 21st

For reasons that aren't important for this blog, Eliza and I had to move out of our apartment for eight days last week. She lived in the western part of the city with a friend, and I stayed with the family of my friend who's studying abroad in France. It was so nice to live in a house with a family--the decorating, the order, the home-cooked meals. It was a nice precursor to what awaits me when I go home (IN 1.5 WEEKS!!!).

The snowman Lillian and I made together!

The first full day in the 21st district, I took a bike ride with Andi (the mom) and had a nice view of one of the lesser-explored districts. The Marchfeld canal runs through this district and up into Niederösterreich (beyond the border), and I can officially say now that I've ridden a bike in Lower Austria, the largest province in the country. The 21st district itself is rather industrial-looking. Definitely not one of the most attractive places. Every day, I took a tram and an S-Bahn out to Perchtoldsdorf, rounding out the whole commute at one hour and 20 minutes. It was alright for a week, but remind me to always live close to work in the future.

During my time in the 21st, it snowed! Apparently, it never snows very much in Vienna, especially in the city center, and when it does, it typically melts right away. Well, perhaps my holiday enthusiasm is infecting even the weather gods because it snowed--count it--three times last week! One day, it really stuck, too, so Lillian and I made a snowman at her kindergarten. (Since I don't carry around carrots in my backpack, as she was hoping, we had to improvise and use pretzel sticks for the face.) My first Schneeman of the year!

A very blurry dreidel

Continuing in the holiday spirit, Musical Munchkins is preparing for its concert this Sunday. We've had three rehearsals with the band already. If I pretend that I'm not jamming out with a jazz band to "Looby Loo" and "Six Little Ducks," it turns out to be quite fun. The guys in the band are great, so even though rehearsals were all over three hours and we teachers don't get paid for any of it, it's a good time.

Hanukkah, Day 1

This year is the first year I've ever celebrated Hanukkah with anyone. Eliza is Jewish, so we have a small, silver Menorah and multi-colored candles, which we light every night. Fire safety first! The first night we tried this, we set the Menorah on a baking tray, and I stood ready with a glass of water--which, in fact, I needed to use when Eliza almost burned herself and dropped the match onto the tray. Tssss. Since we weren't living together for the beginning of Hanukkah, we started celebrating on December 1, when we got back into the apartment. Is that sacrilegious of us? It's a beautiful holiday, though, and I've loved learning the story behind it. I also learned how to play the dreidel game, so WATCH OUT, family, I'm teaching you when I come home!

The Christmas market at Schönbrunn

I've now been to at least six Christmas markets, and my mug collection is up to three. On Monday, I went Christmas shopping for my family, and let me just say, they're cleaning up this year. My checked bag will be chock-full of gifts; here's hoping the airport people don't search it and confiscate anything! Today, my goal is to finish present-shopping and plunk down in a café. Did I mention that Lillian's gone for a week at her grandma's house? Oh, the things I can do in all my free time now! Practice, shop, drink Wiener Melange...

Lillian - caroling? :)

Rathausplatz Christkindlmarkt

Meanwhile, tonight is Krampusnacht ("Krampus Night"), which means you'd better watch out because Krampus is coming to town. In Alpine folklore, Krampus is St. Nick's beast-like, demonic counterpart. Where St. Nick rewards all the good children with presents on December 6 (the Feast of St. Nick), Krampus comes out the evening before and punishes children who have been bad (see kidnapping and rusty chains mentioned above). I asked Gerhard about this, as he grew up in the central province of Austria, and he laughed, saying Krampus is the way Austrian children are kept in line. It makes coal in your stocking look like the better end of the stick, doesn't it? Around the time of Krampusnacht, there's also a Krampuslauf. Basically, people dress up like Krampus, get drunk (typically), and run through the streets. I'll have to keep my eye out for that...

If you are ever at all compelled to come visit Vienna, I highly recommend you come during the Advent season. There is nothing like Christmas in this city--the lights, the Punsch, the markets, the concerts. The universe seems to be making up for the last four finals-ridden Decembers I've had. Give me any Grinch, and I'd bring him to Vienna!

And a little Christmas cheer for you here. :)

A Christmas market in the shadow of St. Stephen's