Long Life and Good Fortune

My adorable and charming landlord had a huge shindig for his 70th bday. The Germans go all out for the decade birthdays, and it took weeks for them to prepare for this one. There was the lawn mowing, the flower trimming, the tent raising, the decorating, the caterer set-up, the music playlist, the chair covering, the lighting, the bar stocking, etc. His sisters, old colleagues, neighbors, distant family, and friends were all there, toasting him and a life well-lived.

How fortunate were we to be invited?

One of the best things about being here has been the relationships that we've been able to form with the landlords' kids. They're our age, and they're fantastic. So quintessentially German but wordly and great fun to be around. Their family is welcoming and has been so patient with me as I struggle to learn German and, each day, make an ass of myself. I'm going to miss them more than I know.

A dance with the Birthday Boy.

As the night drew to a close, only our landlord's kids, Hubs, Laurie, and I were left, and we made good use of the dance floor. I can't remember a night when I danced so hard that my feet ached for 24 hours afterward.

Also, my head ached for a day afterward, too. Turns out I can't celebrate like I'm 21 anymore.


Happy Birthday, Berni! Here's to a million more.