About Losing Everything

I had packed a small kid-size suitcase with my pajamas and Dusie. Her real name was Susie, but it seems I had problems with the “S” as a child, so I had renamed my doll. I wore my red winter coat, black shiny summer shoes even though it was cold outside and my favorite dress, that’s all I took with me, and of course, my school backpack.

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Starbucks? Meet Austrian Ice Coffee!

Eiskaffee

My husband had his first Starbucks coffee a few weeks ago. When I asked him how he liked it, he said it was alright, but not worth the money. Sometimes, his down to earthiness can be a bit annoying. Of course, he is right. I remember how shocked I was years ago when a friend invited me to a cup of overpriced caramel-whipped-cream-madness. I had forgotten and he brought things back into perspective.

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“You had to kill this child, I know”

I start writing a comment, and what was supposed to be just a simple reply, started to get a life of its own and it got longer and longer -to the point that I was writing a blog post. The old saying

GETTING OLD IS MANDATORY, GROWING UP IS OPTIONAL

brought back memories and so it began. My fingers connected with my brain, and the thoughts started flowing right into the keyboard. The COMMENT got longer and more personal.

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The British Baking Show and The Austrian Memories

The Great British Baking Show Is So Bloody Relaxing

Watching The British Baking Show on Netflix brings back so many memories of cakes, pies, and Torten my Grandma used to make. Turns out they actually have names, and it’s not just the pear-thing-with the-funny-shape I remember eating as a child. Pastries from the UK, Belgium, Poland and the rest of the world -even Austria where I happen to be from- are introduced in the baking competition, and I am having a good time watching it.

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Austrian Noodle Soup and the Death of a Chicken

Urlaub am Bauernhof in Südtirol am Ritten bei Bozen

According to my Grandma, the best chicken noodle soup starts with sharpening the ax and getting the old woodblock ready. Then you pick out a chicken and after you catch it, you talk to it nicely, you pet it one last time and you say THANK YOU, after all, it has given you plenty of eggs throughout the years and now it will continue to give you one last meal. You cover the chicken with your old cardigan and carry it to the old barn, where the axe and the woodblock are waiting.

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