Salt

The other day on the way home from work I went to do my usual opposition research (looking for Hannity on the radio dial) and he was nowhere to be found. In his place was one of those financial shows that are really just long paid advertisements. But within the show it also had advertisements. 

For salt. Ever heard an ad for salt? Me neither.

Turns out that salt has a lobby. And it wants old people to know that if you don't eat enough salt you could have health problems.

And it has a mascot, Old Salty, who you can follow on Facebook.

You're welcome.

90

Yesterday was an amazing day -- the mama's 90th birthday. Middlesis arranged for a party, which was lovely. Because her birthday falls on Inauguration Day, and the Women's March was happening across the street from the restaurant, all manner of things occurred. Nonetheless, it was super.
I picked up the cake from the bakery, which was across the street from where the mama and I get our hair cut. I popped into the salon to say hi to our stylist friend, gathered a hug for the mama.

Mom was surprisingly together, and middlesis had put out the mama's outfit for the day. We started getting calls at the apartment that the flowers couldn't be delivered to the restaurant because of the protests. And from my sister saying that an hour later she hadn't been able to get close but that we should drive right up to the cops and tell them our predicament when we were on our way.

The flowers were in the lobby as we (the mama, the bro-in-law and I) left, and we picked them up and took them outside with us. I soon got the opportunity to meet the building maintenance manager after I pulled away from the curb with the flowers on the roof of my car. Oh well. He took care of the glass, and we brought the flowers with us. Plus I got to see the maintenance room, which is completely awesome looking. I should break things more often!

The frenchman is much better with directions than most other non-drivers. He got us where we needed to go, and we drove up to a cop at a roadblock with smiles on our faces. We told him that we were headed to the restaurant with our 90-year-old mom for her birthday. "I heard about you!! Happy birthday!!" he said, and sent us on our way. At another roadblock closer to the action / the restaurant, ladies in pink waving banners and motioning helpfully for us to turn around, and we met our next policeman. Let me just say that if you have a 90-year-old and a big-ass bouquet of flowers in the car with you (and a frenchman) people will let you do practically anything. The policeman told us to move along with caution. Mom kept cracking jokes about how all of this (the protests) was being done in honor of her birthday.

At the restaurant we had a room to ourselves, a dedicated waiter, a monitor for the photo slide show I'd spent all evening making on Friday, and almost all of the people the mama would want to see. Bro is currently in bed, recovering from a hip replacement. This time last year we weren't sure if he was going to live, so the fact that his insurance company would invest in a new hip is pretty darned amazing.

After the party the mama was so pooped that she could barely move. I got her back home and started to get her into her jammies. His broliness called at that moment and I didn't want her to miss that call but also knew that she might fall asleep soon, so I didn't stop undressing her. She was on the phone laughing while I took off her clothes and describing the whole situation in minute detail to the bro.

On the way out of the mama's building, I saw one of the Wellness staff all dressed up in fancy garb reflecting her heritage. It was what I imagine is a North African dress -- she was wrapped in creamy loose-woven material with pretty red and gold trim, and carrying a fancy gold handbag. Since I saw her in purple scrubs in the morning, I barely recognized her. She was heading to the wedding of another Wellness nurse, being chauffered by yet a third wellness nurse (the sweet guy with the fancy car he likes to show off). That little scene in the lobby was the capper to the day -- a community of really nice people who care for each other *and* for my mother. I headed home, did all of my exercises, mindfulness, water drinking for my Whole Life Challenge, ate some quinoa and went to bed. 18 hours later I'm still in my jammies.

Germany 2017 Post 18

Time to head back home. We drove to Leipzig. Took the train to an airport hotel in Frankfurt and stayed overnight. I protested this sign by having a weird and tasty veggie burger:

And then, as mrguy says, hijinks ensued. The next day's plan was to fly from Frankfurt to Charles de Gaulle and from there back home. Then the time of our connecting flight was moved up. The connection had already been tight, but it was going to be a miracle if we made it. Once we got to CDG we were literally running on their long walking sidewalks. And our knees and feet were really failing us at this point. Folks at the airport were completely blase and unhelpful. We were at a TSA checkpoint with our boarding passes in our hands and the flight crew paging us overhead and nobody lifted a finger. We got to the gate, huffing and puffing, pointing at our boarding passes. Our plane was on the ground in front of us, but they'd already closed the door. Boo!

This was sad, but we rolled with it. Thus begins the side trip I call "Inadvertent France". The people at United were super nice, and set us up on the same flight the next day. We stayed at an airport hotel 3 Metro stops away from the airport. 

The people at the hotel were also unbelievably nice. They gave us Easter chocolates and comfort. And the food in Inadvertent France made me feel like I might be in Regular France, but I don't know any better.

 

Inadvertent France also afforded me a new stamp in my passport and that alone went a long way toward making it worthwhile. The next day, same time as before, we were on our way.

So ends Germany 2017. Man that was an awesome trip.

Germany 2017 Post 17

It turns out that Easter Monday is a thing. So much so that they just shut stuff down and we couldn't really drive to Poland, which is 20 minutes away from where we were staying. But who needs passable roads when it's Easter Monday? You people should be home with your family. 

I was really looking forward to Poland. Instead, we visited the Schminke Haus in Lobau.

Although the descriptions on the property refer to it as "one of the four most important residences of the modernist movement worldwide", we'd not heard of it.

And it is super cool. I loved the built-ins in the kitchen.

You can rent this place for a night, which would be pretty interesting, I think:

Since the time when we visited, they began filming a music series on site. If you want to see Conchita sing the catalog of Cher, please follow this link.

Having been blocked from seeing Poland, we agreed that going back to the shack and hanging out was the perfect thing to do.

When we returned, the weather turned gorgeous, the apple trees were blossoming, the skylights filled our apartment with sun.