Time slips away.  We watch babies grow and trees loose their leaves.  It all moves so quickly.  Something I haven’t been watching very well are the awards that some of my blogging buddies have given me.  Forgive me for being so far behind, ladies.  I appreciate that you would think of me and challenge me with a few thoughts.

This cute butterfly flew to Making This Home from ~LL~:

Then Christy dared me to list seven things about myself, so here goes:

1. I’m a vegetarian.
2. The only exception was on Christmas Eve when I tried the traditional Czech dinner of carp.
3. I won’t eat carp again.
4. One of my favorite things to do as a kid was go fishing with my dad.
5. My dad is my hero.
6. So is Jeanette Rankin, the first woman in Congress.
7. And so is my mom.  She’s the one that made me take a typing class.

Ivanhoe gave me some very cool blog love.  (She’s not big on the carp, either.)

And Jen asked me to list six unspectacular things about myself.  Here ya go, Jen:

1. I have blond hair.
2. I have blue eyes.
3. These things make me look very German.
4. …so people always ask me for directions.  In German.
5. Martin has to jump into the conversation so that the person can get the right answer before the train arrives.
6. …unless it’s a tourist from outside of Germany.  My German AND my English are better than theirs, and I can help.

This Ro(a)mantic Life gave me this Inspiration Award, and oh how I love this image.

Finally Sandra gave me an award that says… well I have no clue!  All I can tell you is that it’s not German, and I like that.

Thank you all.  It’s been wonderful.  Now I’m so fearful that I have forgotten someone, and I’m so so sorry if I have.  Will a piece of German chocolate make up for it?

I was always a blog lurker… so for those of you who come here and don’t leave comments:  thank you, too.  I appreciate your interest.  I can’t wait for the start of a new, beautiful week.

We live in such a digital age that it’s easy to find ourselves touching nothing but our computers and cell phones for hours.  Our day rolls on, and without knowing it, we might forget what organic textures feel like or the candle we lit several hours ago smells like. 

I feel very lucky on the days Martin and I are hauling pieces of wood into our house.  I rub my fingers across the grains and await the table saw.  The saw’s scream is awful, but the fresh wood aroma  that fills our house is magic even when I don’t remember to look for it.  It reminds me of home.

A lot of things – a lot of senses – remind me of the place we lived in the United States, and whenever it is cold and yucky, I always think of them.  I want to tear down the plastic tarp that divides our house and find a huge blanket to snuggle in.  Handmade blankets are always the perfect way to rediscover the very basic beauty in our lives.  In the US, I love the quilt my mom and grandma made together when my mom was learning how to sew.  It is red and white and completely falling apart; I rub my fingers across it and burry myself in its folds.

Martin and I do not have anything like that in Berlin yet.  We don’t have access to our taped up boxes in the US that are filled with our carefully labeled keepsakes, and it is very odd to live day to day in a place that is my HOME but has none of the things that I’ve carefully chosen and treasured over the years.

It isn’t that I want to merely look at these things.  I want to feel them and smell them.  And I think we could all find a little pleasure in the feel of things away from our computers a little more often.

Being women grants us the best opportunity.  We can bake cakes and roll out cookies without any objection. We can walk through shops and touch as many items as we want and smell every candle.  And no one worries when we bundle up in those old beautiful quilts and inhale our peppermint tea before we bring it to our lips.

I picked two personal picture to include today.  These are my grandma’s hands.  She taught my mom and thereby me about valuing the simple things in our lives.  I was spoiled by her homemade applesauce long before I knew how to make my own.  And above, she is showing me how to sew badges onto my Girl Scout vest from years ago and harvesting rhubarb with my brother.  What I wouldn’t give to feel her perfect stitches or smell her kitchen.

This weekend, I urge you to feel the pieces that make your home and the curtains that keep out the dark.  Touch the heirloom jewelry and wedding cake toppers.  And smell those beautiful quilts.  It’s easy to forget these meaningful items as we turn to our computers so readily.

(Image by Katie for Making This Home; shared with Emma Calls me Mama because the only heirlooms I have here are memories)

As requested, I’m back with some more of the nitty gritty about our kitchen remodel and what the heck we’ve got in here.  Today?  These odd-ball fellas above our faucet:

Those ugly things are our water meters.  One measures hot; one measures cold.  We also have another pair in the bathroom to measure our water usage in there, too.

(Image by Katie for Making This Home)

Living abroad has its highs and lows.  No matter how many English bookshops you find, there will never be the types of books you truly crave.  I tell myself it’s the perfect opportunity to expand my reading.  There are plenty of classics, “chick lit” options, and memoirs by American presidents, but I can’t convince myself to expand in those directions at 16 euros a book (currently $20.59).  Back in the US, I went through dozens of books.  I knew where to get the best used books in town or online.  I went to the library every week.  Now the literary deprivation is hard.

The current remedy at our house are two magazines that transferred our subscriptions to overseas with no charge.  It helps to think about these little things as luxury.  They are like fine pieces of chocolate and a bathtub filled with bubbles.  I feel like I can enjoy these subscriptions without evaluating cost per page or future usefulness on our shelves like I do with my book purchases here.  I can savor them for the delicious English words they offer.  

And let me just say that you never know how fascinating a science magazine can be until you can’t even read the cereal box in your own cupboard.   And a man will never love Martha Stewart Living like he does in another country.  (People do crazy things in foreign countries, after all.)

I’m amazed by how the everyday items of my former life have become such treats.  My reading materials don’t come tied in big beautiful ribbons, but in my mind, they are a huge bouqet of fresh tulips brightening my world.  

Do you find treats in your life that feel like deep pleasures as well?  As Henry Wadsworth Longfellow wrote in his poem, The Rainy Day, “Behind the clouds is the sun still shining.”

 It is quite possible to become artistically inspired by politics.  And anyone who recognizes the word “Obama” in whatever language she speaks knows that yesterday was a Really Big Day.  Obama’s theme of hope for American and the world really resonates in my mind, so I thought I’d share some recycled cardboard art I worked on yesterday.  It’s easy art that’s ready to frame or stick a stamp on and mail to a friend.

If you want to make your own:

(Image by Katie for Making This Home)

I’m pretty much an experimenter in many areas of cooking.  I turn to cookbooks for most of my ideas and end up ignoring half of the ingredient lists.  My broccoli soup becomes potato, carrot, broccoli soup.  The chocolate chip cookies have peanut butter and oats.  And the roasted applesauce always changes.  Most of the time, my theory of mass alteration works; sometimes my brownies collapse.

It’s hard for me to follow every rule and do exactly like everyone else.  A lot of self-expression vanishes when I follow the standard mold, and I guess I find that our kitchen is really no different.  Everyone have some very basic ideas about what a kitchen needs like a big sink and an oven.  We also believe that every kitchen has to have a four-burner stove.  Yet when Martin and I paused to reflect on exactly how we cook, one thing was very obvious: we rarely used more than one, maybe two burners at a time.

So we decided to pick a two-burner stove.  In addition to saving us a few bucks, you can see that it’s certainly the most practical solution for our 36 square foot kitchen:

So we’re dying to know:  how many burners do you use?

This week, consider stepping back a moment as your family prepares meals just for curiosity’s sake.  Not a Thanksgiving day, just an every day sort of day.  Then tell us!  Think we could we swap spaces?

(Image by Katie for Making This Home)