Merry Christmas!

Some of you have already received this Christmas letter. For those who have not, Merry Christmas. For those who have, I give you the gift of the 10 minutes you would have spent reading this. Enjoy a cup of coffee.

If I were a DJ, this is how I would spin the year . . . .

January: “Dooley” by the Dillards (Back Porch Bluegrass). It’s not the words of this song that are meaningful, as it would take someone with much greater depth than I to draw lessons from “Dooley, sittin’ by the holler; Dooley, tryin’ to make a dollar.” Rather, we played the song to remember the fun of Grandma and Grandpa Waggener’s visit, which included watching the Dillards on The Andy Griffith Show. We also celebrated Luc’s 12th birthday this month with a treasure hunt party.

February: “Unafraid” by Amy Grant (Somewhere Down the Road). This is what we tried to be, with varying degrees of success, as we slid down the slopes of the Jura Mountains in nearby France. What the kids like about skiing: Challenge, danger, adrenaline rush. What the parents like about skiing: The peaceful ride up the mountain on the télésiège, the beautiful view from the top of the run, the relief at having reached the bottom of the hill unbroken.

March: “All Things Bright and Beautiful” by Cecil Francis Alexander. We saw the first crocuses and flowering plums of spring in our neighborhood. We also had a fancy-dress mystery dinner party to celebrate the 14th birthday of our own bright and beautiful Johanna.

April: “Wonderful” from the musical Wicked. The title describes not only the show, which we saw in London’s West End during Easter break, but also our whole experience in that city. We saw some friends from Cincinnati, walked through the city’s beautiful gardens, and rode the London Eye. We also enjoyed the opportunity to speak English, and eat Krispy Kreme donuts and Chipotle. Our favorite thing, though, was probably the Sherlock Holmes Museum. It’s not that it’s so impressive; it’s just that we’re such fans!

May: I chose “Shake, Rattle, and Roll” by (take your pick) Big Joe Turner, Bill Haley, or Elvis Presley for the soundtrack to our trip through Northern Italy, which included miles of rolling along the confusing Italian motorways and the rattling and shaking of an earthquake in Padua. Eric (clearly more heavenly minded) chose “He’s Got the Whole World in His Hands” (a traditional American spiritual) to remind us who made and upholds all creation: whether it is the earthquake and the sinking of cities or the beauty of the Mediterranean at Venice, the lake at Como, and the mountain as we waited (interminably) to pass through the Mont Blanc Tunnel into Italy

June: “Try to Remember,” from The Fantastiks. Try as we might, we can’t think of a single interesting thing about this month. No vacations. No milestones. No disasters. Even our family member who had a birthday (Eric) turned a ho-hum 41.

July: “Ohio” by Over the Rhine (Ohio). We spent most of July back in the U.S. (Michigan and Indiana, too, but those states don’t have as cool songs). It was great to b If I were a DJ, this is how I would spin the year . . . .

January: “Dooley” by the Dillards (Back Porch Bluegrass). It’s not the words of this song that are meaningful, as it would take someone with much greater depth than I to draw lessons from “Dooley, sittin’ by the holler; Dooley, tryin’ to make a dollar.” Rather, we played the song to remember the fun of Grandma and Grandpa Waggener’s visit, which included watching the Dillards on The Andy Griffith Show. We also celebrated Luc’s 12th birthday this month with a treasure hunt party.

February: “Unafraid” by Amy Grant (Somewhere Down the Road). This is what we tried to be, with varying degrees of success, as we slid down the slopes of the Jura Mountains in nearby France. What the kids like about skiing: Challenge, danger, adrenaline rush. What the parents like about skiing: The peaceful ride up the mountain on the télésiège, the beautiful view from the top of the run, the relief at having reached the bottom of the hill unbroken.

March: “All Things Bright and Beautiful” by Cecil Francis Alexander. We saw the first crocuses and flowering plums of spring in our neighborhood. We also had a fancy-dress mystery dinner party to celebrate the 14th birthday of our own bright and beautiful Johanna.

April: “Wonderful” from the musical Wicked. The title describes not only the show, which we saw in London’s West End during Easter break, but also our whole experience in that city. We saw some friends from Cincinnati, walked through the city’s beautiful gardens, and rode the London Eye. We also enjoyed the opportunity to speak English, and eat Krispy Kreme donuts and Chipotle. Our favorite thing, though, was probably the Sherlock Holmes Museum. It’s not that it’s so impressive; it’s just that we’re such fans!

May: I chose “Shake, Rattle, and Roll” by (take your pick) Big Joe Turner, Bill Haley, or Elvis Presley for the soundtrack to our trip through Northern Italy, which included miles of rolling along the confusing Italian motorways and the rattling and shaking of an earthquake in Padua. Eric (clearly more heavenly minded) chose “He’s Got the Whole World in His Hands” (a traditional American spiritual) to remind us who made and upholds all creation: whether it is the earthquake and the sinking of cities or the beauty of the Mediterranean at Venice, the lake at Como, and the mountain as we waited (interminably) to pass through the Mont Blanc Tunnel into Italy

June: “Try to Remember,” from The Fantastiks. Try as we might, we can’t think of a single interesting thing about this month. No vacations. No milestones. No disasters. Even our family member who had a birthday (Eric) turned a ho-hum 41.

July: “Ohio” by Over the Rhine (Ohio). We spent most of July back in the U.S. (Michigan and Indiana, too, but those states don’t have as cool songs). It was great to be back at our home church, to spend time with beloved friends, and to see our dear families. Okay, going to Costco was pretty outstanding as well. 

August: “Celebrate” by Mika (Origin of Love). From the decadent fun of spending hours on the couch watching the London Olympics to visits from several friends and relatives, to finally getting to know our Swiss neighbors, to basketball camp, soccer coaching, and cooking classes, August was a month filled with energy and joy. 

September: “(What a) Wonderful World” by Art Garfunkel (The Singer). The song that begins “Don’t know much about history, don’t know much biology . . .” aptly sums up our dive into homeschooling in Switzerland. It’s not so much the academics about which we felt so ignorant, but rather the Swiss system, which is, predictably, rule-driven and inflexible, but ultimately, full of quite pleasant and helpful people. Drew remains at IIL, where his knowledge is his own. This month also brought his 16th birthday, celebrated with a “Mom, can I have a few friends over” get-together that turned into a 25-guest fiesta. Good thing his friends are polite and like to help clean up!

October: “Barnatro” by Ejnar Westling, popularized in the 1930s by Swedish folk singer Lapp Lisa. We visited the frozen North (the southernmost section, at least) this month. We loved seeing the country and reconnecting with relatives, including some of Lapp Lisa’s great-grandchildren. The Swedes are friendly, coffee-and-sweets-loving, and almost completely anglophone. Good thing, as our Swedish standbys of “tack” and “hej” will only get you so far.

November: “Run On” by Cantus (That Eternal Day). Yes, we do realize that the song has nothing to do with our early morning jogs or competitive race efforts. Nonetheless, it’s a great song to listen to while running, and this month was full of that. The Trans’Onesienne was the 17th and the Escalade on Dec. 1. It makes it into November, though, because of the Cours du Duc. This run began on Nov. 30, in France, and followed the route that the Duke of Savoy took in 1602 when he came to attack Geneva. He was repelled with a pot of hot soup, and the Genevois have celebrated the event ever since.

December: “Great Is Thy Faithfulness” by Thomas O. Chisholm. The past year brought literal (and figurative) mountaintop experiences, some thorny valleys, and quite a bit of monotonous trudging along familiar paths. We’re thankful to God -- in every situation -- for his unwavering faithfulness.

May he bless your Christmas and New Year with his unending love. e back at our home church, to spend time with beloved friends, and to see our dear families. Okay, going to Costco was pretty outstanding as well. 

August: “Celebrate” by Mika (Origin of Love). From the decadent fun of spending hours on the couch watching the London Olympics to visits from several friends and relatives, to finally getting to know our Swiss neighbors, to basketball camp, soccer coaching, and cooking classes, August was a month filled with energy and joy. 

September: “(What a) Wonderful World” by Art Garfunkel (The Singer). The song that begins “Don’t know much about history, don’t know much biology . . .” aptly sums up our dive into homeschooling in Switzerland. It’s not so much the academics about which we felt so ignorant, but rather the Swiss system, which is, predictably, rule-driven and inflexible, but ultimately, full of quite pleasant and helpful people. Drew remains at IIL, where his knowledge is his own. This month also brought his 16th birthday, celebrated with a “Mom, can I have a few friends over” get-together that turned into a 25-guest fiesta. Good thing his friends are polite and like to help clean up!

October: “Barnatro” by Ejnar Westling, popularized in the 1930s by Swedish folk singer Lapp Lisa. We visited the frozen North (the southernmost section, at least) this month. We loved seeing the country and reconnecting with relatives, including some of Lapp Lisa’s great-grandchildren. The Swedes are friendly, coffee-and-sweets-loving, and almost completely anglophone. Good thing, as our Swedish standbys of “tack” and “hej” will only get you so far.

November: “Run On” by Cantus (That Eternal Day). Yes, we do realize that the song has nothing to do with our early morning jogs or competitive race efforts. Nonetheless, it’s a great song to listen to while running, and this month was full of that. The Trans’Onesienne was the 17th and the Escalade on Dec. 1. It makes it into November, though, because of the Cours du Duc. This run began on Nov. 30, in France, and followed the route that the Duke of Savoy took in 1602 when he came to attack Geneva. He was repelled with a pot of hot soup, and the Genevois have celebrated the event ever since.

December: “Great Is Thy Faithfulness” by Thomas O. Chisholm. The past year brought literal (and figurative) mountaintop experiences, some thorny valleys, and quite a bit of monotonous trudging along familiar paths. We’re thankful to God -- in every situation -- for his unwavering faithfulness.

May he bless your Christmas and New Year with his unending love.

The -- Somewhat Tardy -- Report From the Duke's Race

      As those who have read this blog for the past year will doubtless remember, it was in December of 1602 that the Duke of Savoy staged an attack on Geneva. The attack was, in legend, anyway, repelled with the aid of a pot of hot vegetable soup tossed out the window onto the attacking soldiers by a woman known as Mère Royaume. Four hundred and ten years later found me lined up with a couple thousand other slightly loopy runners to reenact the voyage that the duke took as he came from Savoy to attack the city. When I signed up for the race in October, it seemed like such a fun idea. Eric and I were going to run the 17k together. We would take the bus to Reignier, France, in the evening for the race, which would begin at 9:30 p.m. The night run, crossing from France to Switzerland, the novelty . . . it all seemed unique, adventuresome, and far in the future. Then a work trip to London made it impossible to Eric to join me, and the adventure started to take on a darker tone. Running 10 miles in the dark by myself started to seem a little silly. Not to mention scary. Silly, nevertheless, has yet to stop me (though scary sometimes does). So, after a half-hour bus ride to Reinier  during which I sat next to a Portugese man who explained his running exploits in a mixture of English, French, and Spanish, and after sitting in a drafty gym for two hours waiting for the race to start and trying to decipher the conversations around me, there I was. As I stood, shivering, with all the other runners, I had to ask myself one question: Why had the Duke thought it was such a good idea to attack in December, of all months?

      

My view as I waited for the race to start. Everyone was given headlamps, which made for an amazing view of  a chain of lights snaking up the hills. It was an amazing view for those of us in the back, anyway.

      A cannon shot started the race. We were in blocks, and I think the organizers arranged the blocks so that the fastest runners went first, followed by the slowest, then the middle. At first, I passed person after person. Then, as each faster block behind me caught up, I found myself passed by waves of runners. Not very inspiring, but since one was not allowed to enter the race without being able to finish in under two hours, I had known from the beginning that I would be among the slow. I had been worried that I would be running all alone in the dark. The opposite was true. I'm not sure how many people were out there with me, but it was difficult to even find a place where I could move my arms without whacking someone.We passed a drum corps dressed in what I can only assume was traditional Savoyard costume. People around me were singing, "Nous sommes les Savoyards!" 

      As we ran on and I warmed up, the cold became less of an issue, and my question about the December attack was replaced with another: Why had the Duke chosen such a hilly route? We weren't exactly going over the Salève mountain -- but we weren't quite going around it either. Thanks to the early morning hill repeats that Johanna makes me do, however, I managed the hills with something close to aplomb. And just a short hour and 40 minutes later, I was coming into downtown Geneva  seeing the lights, the cheering crowds, and -- best of all -- the finish line. I was delighted that, while we had followed the duke's course, we had escaped the duke's boiling vegetable greeting.

      Another Escalade tradition is the Marmite Run, which took place the next night. I don't know how wearing costumes and parading around the city ties into the history of the Escalade, but I think almost any excuse to dress up is a good one. Johanna participated with a friend from the U.S. and one from Germany (a very international crowd). They dressed up as the Butcher, the Baker, and the Candlestick Maker. Eric and I took them downtown, but there were so many people in the parade that we didn't see them once from beginning to end. Typically, even though it was a costume event, lots of people ran it. These Swiss people are just not kidding.

The costumes were Grandma's idea -- a great one, I think. The only problem was that
Jo's bloody cleaver and apron scared people who didn't know the nursery rhyme.

It was difficult to take good pictures of the moving marchers in the dark. This is a gigantic dragon.

Here are some Marie Antoinettes followed by frogs.

One of my favorites -- Christmas windows.

Snowballs wearing Santa hats.

In Which the Elder Aliens Party in Berlin

In front of a map of divided Berlin that was part of an outdoor exhibition on the wall.
The hats were our first Berlin purchase. That city is cold in December.

      Lo these many years ago, we celebrated Anniversary #10 in Las Vegas. While that city is probably worth seeing for it's unique nature, it made me think of what Hell must be like -- hot, loud, and full of vice. Little did we know that a decade later, we'd be celebrating our 20th anniversary in Berlin . . . or that Berlin would be a lot closer to home than Las Vegas. If Las Vegas is Hell, then Berlin must be Heaven -- it's cold, full of beauty, and they drink their coffee in mugs almost as large as the steins they use for beer (although I understand that actually, "In Heaven There Is No Beer," which is fine with me).

      Despite these positive qualities, Berlin may seem like something of an odd anniversary destination -- one might ask, why not Paris, Venice, Antibes, or something more traditionally romantic. We chose, in our patented practical style, by pulling up the Easy Jet website, typing in the weekend we wanted to go, and selecting from among the deals offered. Upon further reflection, however, Berlin actually is an  appropriate place to celebrate a marriage. Through it's history, the city has been assailed by trials from within and without. Berlin can't have always been an easy place to live. Yet it is a place of great beauty and depth, and a place that is continuing to build and grow. What more can a marriage ask for than a history like that? 

       After four days in Germany's capital, it has definitely become one of our favorite destinations, one to which we hope to return. What's so great about Berlin?

#1. History. Berlin's stormy history makes the city a fascinating place to visit. We spent hours learning about the abuses of the Third Reich in Topographie des Terrors, a museum built on the site of the SS and Reich Security headquarters. Outside of the building stands one of the longest remaining sections of the Berlin Wall. 

The Berlin Wall outside the Topographie des Terrors. The holes are from treasure hunters
 who wanted to take a piece of history away with them.

Memorial to the Jews killed in World War II.

      We visited Checkpoint Charlie. The sign is the original one, I think, but the checkpoint itself is a reconstruction.

The sandbags and plaque commemorate the standoff between American and Soviet tanks in 1961.

      We spent more hours in the German History Museum learning about the years from the end of World War 1 through the present. We also visited the display on the Reformation. We could have learned about ancient history to the 1900s as well, but didn't feel able to digest any more information that day.

I never realized that Cranach painted Luther's wife as well. The pictures were meant to
be an argument in favor of marriage by the clergy.

2. Architecture. Despite the destruction of war, Berlin in chock-full of amazing buildings. 

The Berliner Dom

The Reichstag

The Brandenburg Gate. I found it very interesting that Napoleon took it to Paris for a few years.
I wonder who he got to do that job.

Charlottenburg Castle (a Christmas market was assembling in front
of the castle, but nothing was open yet, unfortunately).

3. Food. Probably it is because our heritage is more German than French, but we loved the food in Berlin. Big breakfasts. Sausage and sauerkraut. Delicious baked goods. None of these ridiculous beautiful, tiny portions intended to please the eyes more than the stomach. The Germans like food. They don't put up with exorbitant prices, either. We did have one funny dining experience. We were sitting at a table in a crowded restaurant when an older woman came up and motioned toward one of our two empty chairs. I assumed that she wanted to take the chair to another table, and so I nodded and smiled. She and her husband promptly joined us at our table. Their English was limited. Our German more so. Nevertheless, Eric managed to carry on a conversation. I wish we could have talked more to them, as we learned they had grown up and lived in East Berlin. I'm sure they could have added to our historical perspective. As it was, the situation was somewhat awkward. My parents, who lived in Germany for a year before I was born, assured me that table sharing is perfectly normal. That kind of efficient use of resources is probably why the country is doing comparatively well economically.

Eric in our favorite restaurant, right around the corner from the hotel. No one joined us at the table here.

   

4. The Christmas Spirit. Berlin is full of Christmas decorations, Christmas music, and Christmas markets. The lights and festivity make the water darkness not only bearable, but kind of cozy. We heard a wonderful Christmas choir concert in the Franzosischer Dom, which the city built for the Huguenot Christians fleeing France after the Edict of Nantes was revoked. I'm sure the Huguenots  would have loved the ancient and modern hymns. I know we did.

The Christmas market outside the Franzosischer Dom. We found wooden molds
for springerlies -- one of our favorite Christmas cookies.