It’s just that beautiful.
We drove over the Klausenpass yesterday: 6000-some feet, up above the tree line … it was one of the most spectacular experiences. The pass is closed in the winter and had only just opened for the summer: it was quiet, empty, and cold. A very peaceful afternoon somehow.
There was snow at the top,
and cake! It is now my dream to stay at this hotel someday.
All of these were taken out of the car window, as we wound our way up one switchback after another. The Germans say “Serpentine.” I think that’s a much nicer word.
I don’t know why, but this one is my favorite: something about the colors and the movement, the stone building against the mountains.
I promise I’ll get back to the knitting soon.
My favorite café in Konstanz, the Café Adler.
It’s old fashioned and a bit kitschy, but it has a couple of lovely window seats, offers some of the best people-watching in Konstanz, serves coffee by the pot, and introduced me to the culinary delight that is the Butterbretzel. I spent many an hour reading, writing, knitting, and just hanging out in one of those two alcoves above. The younger waitress and I are facebook friends, which gives you a pretty good idea of just how often I was there.
It will be closing in three weeks. I’m glad I got a chance to say goodbye.
Kickin’ it with Otto Schneider at the Kneippanlage in Maisental, Bad Urach.
What is kneippen you might ask? To be honest, I don’t know myself: it happens at the end of a hike and involves wading in a very particular (not to say peculiar) manner in a pool of knee-high, freezing-cold water. It was spectacular. Sebastian Kneipp was definitely onto something.
This was the guy in charge. He instructed me in proper technique. Since it was my first experience with the Kneipp … I asked for a picture. Just to record the moment. I never do that kind of thing, but I decided not to think about it and ask before I could reconsider.
crazy tourist impulses against decorum: 1, katie: 0
I went to Luzern today. It was pretty. There are many fun facts I could share with you, but I’ll stick with this one: even at 7000 ft. it is possible to find 1) two kinds of grilled sausage, 2) men playing alphorns, 3) bright red deck chairs for basking in the sunshine, and 4) wool Swiss army blankets available for use while sitting in the aforementioned chairs, imagining the view totally obscured by clouds. Turns out, clouds are strangely relaxing.
Yeah, I forgot to bring my knitting.
It was kind of scary.
But the only means of getting to this …
and this …
I must agree with Vreni and Melch, life is indeed too short to eat bad cheese.
The friend I’m visiting is all about nature: she studied geography and geology, and now she’s back getting her teaching certificate. So I learned lots about slimy stuff and why it’s slimy, in her best field-trip manner.
There was a waterfall, the remains of a 12th-century hermitage, and flowers.
Then it was back to the car and home, with muddy boots and tired feet.
For a while now, I’ve had stewing in the back of my mind a project I can best describe as Buellerian. Thinking of it in terms of a John Hughes movie gives it the right flavor of playfulness and deflates any (or at least most of the) potential pomposity from the get-go. In a nutshell, the project is simple: to record some stuff that makes me happy every day this summer. It’s silly, but that’s the point, too.
In a larger nutshell, it’s a bit more complicated. I suspect this year of being sponsored by the letter “F”: frenzied, frantic, and frenetic. In all the ways that those words can shift between exhilarating and exhausting. So the summer is all about seeking out the silly — luckily, Nashville provides ample material — and revelling in it. That’s where Ferris Bueller comes in: “Life moves pretty fast. You don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.” I think I’ve been missing it.
So I’m attempting to miss less.
In that spirit, I bought a ridiculously bright scarf yesterday because it was cheap, at H&M, very yellow, and made me happy in its beacon-like unmissability.
And in the midst of all of this heady activity, I’ve even managed a bit of knitting. In fact, the first of the Regentag socks is limping towards completion thanks to a couple of delightfully outlandish ingénue-based movies: A Summer Place (1959) and Sissi (1955).
That’s right: a turned heel and a new notebook. So far, so good.