In which I heart Hamburg.

 

In which we drop in on winter in New England.

As previously mentioned, I made a short trip to New England in November to spend Thanksgiving with my family and meet the newest family member. My brother-from-another-mother fetched me from Boston and we immediately headed north to Portland, where we were to attend a rockin' concert that evening. We made it to the quaint coastal city after a cozy caffeine&sugar break in Portsmouth, and checked into our hotel, where a bigtime culture-shocking event was underway. At this point I was still in the slap-happy phase of sleep deprivation, probably looking like I was at the end of a transatlantic journey and dragging a huge, red suitcase fulla presents behind me like Santa Claus. It was then very surprising to roll into the lobby and find myself surrounded by made-up, sparsely/sparkly-clad and stilettoed ladies of all ages, men in suits of various sorts, and music blasting around the open hall. A plastic banner announced some sort of ball, and the nice lady at reception was happy to inform us that it was a NASCAR ball. "It's NASCAR," she said with an expression that could have leaned towards sarcasm, though after discussion in the elevator it was agreed that she was truly excited. And who wouldn't be? Additionally, they were giving out packets of Goldfish at reception, making all the more reason for merriment.

There was still a little time before the concert, and after deciding it would be too dangerous to take a little powernap, we went out for a divinely delicious meal across from the concert hall instead. The concert itself was packed, as it should have been with the magical powerchops of the musicians on stage. Unfortunately I crashed about halfway through and was grateful x10 that we were staying about a 5-minute walk away from the venue. The balling was still going on when we got back to the hotel and we had to wait around in the lobby for revellers in various stages of drunkenness and footware to figure out how to work the elevator in front of us before we could have a turn.

We awoke the next morning to a sunlit Portland and a sky full of blue. After hitting an uhmayzing bakery, we meandered our way to New Hampshire to visit some other not-quite-related family, were we were warmly welcomed with wonderful smells and much delight. (Thanks again!)    
 

Unfortunately we couldn't stay long, as we had a date to meet the niece and quite-related family back in Boston.  So off we drove into the late afternoon.

(I'm pretty excited about this picture:)

Seeing my brother and his family for the first time in a family way was positively overwhelming, all in positive ways, from the first greeting to the creative, best-dad-ever applepillars to cuddling with my beautiful, kung fu sleeping, gangsta niece (see photo below below below and all will be clear), at that point not quite three weeks old.

We spent a few quiet days together, time plotted by the departure of my Maine brother and arrival of my New Mexico mother, now featured in the role of grandmother for the first time. We went for a couple strolls and ran some errands in the bleak November weather.

"Have you hugged your pest management professional today?"

Our journey to Vermont for Thanksgiving festivities with my sister-in-law's family was delayed by a day due to a winter storm, though fortunately my Dad's plane made it safely to Boston from the Great American Southwest. The parentals and I thus stayed an extra night in the comfort of friends before making the drive north on Thanksgiving morning, by which point the roads were clear and the scenery was impeccable.

We made it to Thanksgivingland with plenty of time for socializing, baby burping, and a dinner that couldn't be beat.

An additional delight was the adorable little cabin the parentals and I shared at a B&B in the area, looking picturesque under its blanket of snow both night and day. Another plus: breakfasting with wonderful hosts, among whom were a poodle, a corgi, and a Great Pyrenees. Oh, be still my heart and be full my doggie deficit. 

The next days were spent in the company of family -- playing music (and Pass the Baby), going for walks, eating leftovers. The only disheartening factor was seeing Ritter Sport chocolate for sale in the local if-we-don't-have-it-you-don't-need-it shop. I've got nothing against kimchi corn chips or maple powder or any of the other silly or exotic things on sale in this crunchy Vermont town, but the fact that you could get my most-gifted German chocolate there made it seem a lot less special. (Though the fact that they sell it there means that people need it, so maybe not sooo not-special. And naturally the imported Ritter Sport is waaaaaaaaayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy more expensive than in the Deutschland.) But anywhey, back to the New Englandy winter scenes.

(Had to do it:)

As they always do, the day of departure finally came. The parentals drove me back to Boston to catch my flight back across the Pond, but not before I'd said a passing hello to the Connecticut River, tossing some greetings downstream to be fished out in Northampton.

I arrived back in Hamburg in a timely manner and had to be at work again the next day, though my motivation to do so was more than lacking. This round of goodbyes was particularly hard because of this little bumble bundle (see below; photo by her parentals), and because I don't have any set date for another visit at this point. I knew it wouldn't be easy when I decided to build a life here a few years ago, and it's not -- especially during times of great family joy and great family grief. But of course, the life I have here is good, and we'll just have to keep figuring out ways to mesh continents whenever opportunities arise.

In which it snows and ballooning gets checked off on the bucket list (New Mexico part V).

To pick up where the last adventure left off, the hiking party split up with the two older members driving south and the two younger members continuing north. We first stopped off in Santa Fe, where we had a peek at the Old Town Plaza and went to the Georgia O'Keeffe Museum. Man, that woman was simply amazing. She's long gone but I've still got such an awesome crush on her, and have for years. Respect.

It was late by the time we were done with fooding and schmoozing, so we stayed the night in the capital before continuing north to Taos the next day, were we were going to visit a dear friend near the toes of the Rockies. (This friend also happens to be an incredible writer with a wonderful blog and three books under her belt.) There we were warmly welcomed into her sweet abode with a view and spoiled with incredible cuisine -- spicy hot cider, gourmet popcorn, amazing chili, purple cornbread with purple tater soup, divine breakfast quinoa with freshly made almond milk... .. . ahhhhh. And wonderful company around a warm kiva fireplace, of course. (Thank you!)

The sky twisted itself up in all sorts of dramatic ways that night, and was photographed in the process on a very cold and very windy stroll.

The sun rose the next morning behind snow-dusted mountains, spilling silently over the violet valley below. We decided that, in order to best and most comfortably explore those towering land masses, it was necessary to drive the 85-mile Enchanted Circle Scenic Byway. As it turned out, this was a most excellent idea. Golden aspens bursting out of a sparkling white wonderland, burbling streams, picnicking in alpine fields... This, too, is New Mexico? How enchanting!

Unfortunately the car needed to be back in Albuquerque by early evening, and as it couldn't drive itself, we had to cut the adventure short. One quick trip to the heart-thumpening river gorge and it was time for Auf Wiedersehen.

Fortunately we didn't have to wait long for the next adventure, which started early early the next morning. My parents had received a certificate for a private balloon flight (from themselves) for their wedding anniversary and were able to add a couple passengers on at the end. We'd already signed up to fly one morning the week before, but the pilot had decided at the last minute that the weather conditions were not up to par. We had more luck on the second try, hoorah hoorah. Part of the experience is helping to get the balloon set up, which is first rolled out of a van and inflated with industrial fans. Next the pilot uses the burner to pump hot flames (and thus hot air) into the balloon until it rises and the basket can be uprighted. Then we all hop in, and literally before you know it, you're 10, 20 feet off the ground. It's absolutely silent except for the wooshing of the burner from time to time, and as you go fly with the wind, there is no wind, er, blowing on you. This fact plus the burner right above you leads to a pleasantly cozy flying experience.

So, off we went. Rising with the sun over Albuquerque.

I'm always struck at how the city just comes to an abrupt stop and turns into desert, and there was no clearer place to see the difference than here.

Balloon Fiesta had ended a couple days prior, but there were still many other balloonists in the area taking advantage of the beautiful conditions.

Check out those cute little volcanoes on the right! Remember them?

One thing we learned was that dogs are generally extremely annoyed with balloons, one reason being because the burner (or something) lets off a very high pitch not audible to humans, and another being because they're giant unknown objects flying over the dog's home turf and they can't do anything about it. Dogs really did bark at us below throughout the whole flight.

After about an hour in the air, the pilot was hoping to land in a schoolyard. One class of kids at the school was clearly hoping for this as well as they had come outside to wave to us as we approached. But the wind decided otherwise and we ended up landing safely (with one single bump-hop) in the back parking lot of some industrial building, surrounded by semi trucks and barely skimming over an electric fence during the descent. I wasn't too worried as we went down, as the pilot was a very chill and experienced kind of guy. The balloon company van had been following us for the last hour and was soon there to pick us up. As before, we all worked together to deflate the balloon, fold it up, and get the massive thing back into the van in an organized fashion. Check.

I don't really know what else to say, other than it was a really wonderful experience. Almost as wonderful as going to the zoo and seeing baby giraffes. Different wonderful.

The final adventure of the trip (the next day) had to be a sunset jaunt up the tramway to Sandia Peak, because it's Albuquerque and what better way to say farewell to the city than here? Followed by delectable New Mexican cuisine -- red or green?

One more sleep, one more green chili cheese bagel with cream cheese and red pepper jelly, one more snuggle with the three-legged wonder spaniel, and it was time to go. Return to land of Real Life on Planet Germany, in a galaxy far, far away.

(I'm guessing this was somewhere around Chicago.)

I was sad to leave, but not as sad as usual, as I knew I'd be seeing my family again for Thanksgiving in just a few weeks, this time on Planet New England. (With the exception of my Gma, with whom we had had the pleasure of visiting many times while in ABQ. Saying goodbye to her was hard.)
Mostly I was just in awe at the range of things we had experienced and the richness of all the time we'd had there. Gratefulness abounds.