hillary – Page 15 – Across The Water

May 28, 2009May 29, 2009

I Love Every Minute of You

My Sweet Girl,

I remember shortly after you were born, a poem started to form in my head, or my heart, or wherever poems begin.

I love every minute of you
I love every breath of you
I love every smile, cry, sigh of you

The poem hasn’t grown beyond that yet, maybe never will. Poems do that sometimes, as you may discover if your love of words and sounds and sense continues to grow at this breakneck pace. (Words and writing and reading have always been so important for me, shaping who I am and what I believe. I think that maybe we will share that.) But for some reason those poem’s words help me to express and understand the magnitude of change that I went through when you were born. A complete love that I have never felt before.

I have had a broken heart in my life. As you will have, undoubtedly, in yours. I think it is O.K. to have a broken heart once or twice in the span of a lifetime. It means you have loved and lived and tried. (Oh, the trying. That is the toughest part of all.) But I remember thinking, as your 3-line almost-poem ran through my head, that if anything ever happened to you, my heart wouldn’t break. It would shatter. Into a thousand million pieces that could never be put back together. Without you, I wouldn’t be me anymore. Not the me that was created the moment you came into this world 3 years ago. Not this me, the best me that I have ever known.

Back in your room in Victoria, I am floored by the scent. Just like I remember, like no other smell in the world. Because it is you. It brought back the flood of memories of nursing and rocking, changing and tickling. My beautiful baby. This room is no longer yours, but that smell will stay with me always.

And speaking of tickling. Never, no never, has there been a girl in the world who loves to be tickled more than you. “It’s tickle time!” is peeled out several times a day. We also have tickle games, games that developed over time, the origins of which are murky and irrelevant. You climb under a blanket and pretend you are asleep, snoring loudly like a 70-year old man. That is my cue to throw back the cover and madly tickle you. Or you tuck into the corner of the couch and say “You can’t reach me”, which I respond to by stretching out my arm, pretending like I can only…just…barely…grab your hand, and then pull you to me and tickle your side until you squiggle away. Your funny, sweet, surprisingly deep laugh will be in my ears always.

As will your voice. Much of your day is filled with music. Listening to music, strumming on your guitar, and singing. Always singing. You have brought music back into a more central part of my life. I try to think of music that we can listen to and dance to together. Or we just turn on the radio and boogie to whatever is playing. It doesn’t really matter. It all sounds and feels wonderful.

I hope you remember these fun times, the lovely times together. Because not every minute is perfect with us. I’m a different kind of mom…like I guess every mom is different in their own way. I don’t bake or cook much, I like/need to work and explore my own projects, I sometimes have a really, really short fuse, and the thing I pray the most for is patience. There are days I wish I could take back, and desperately hope that the better days somehow overpower the worse days in your memory.

But you are kind and confident and fiercely independent, so I think maybe in the end it will all turn out alright. Maybe even better than alright. The other day I caught you awkwardly shimming up on the big-girl toilet and showed you how to move your stool, which you cart around the apartment constantly to help you do whatever it is you want to do, to get up there more easily. Your eyes lit up like I had given you the best gift: a way to do yet one more thing without any help. Dad found you the next day happily perched up there, reading a book that you had hauled from your room. He forwarded me the photo immediately, so we could share the laugh together.

I can hardly believe 3 years have gone by, and also can barely comprehend how much you have changed and learned in such a short time. I’m fascinated by the way your mind works, and I think it will just keep getting better and better as we can talk and share more. I’ve always said that 3 was my favourite age for children. Innocent and daring, talking and roughhousing, growing independence while still needing lots of cuddles, a full and vibrant personality with just a hint of baby. I’m going to love every minute of it.

Pufferbelly from Hillary Samson on Vimeo.

May 19, 2009June 19, 2009

Home?

I’m sitting in the Calgary airport, enjoying their free Internet access. I had to laugh making my way through the airport security. Canadians really are friendly! It isn’t just a myth.

I had a momentary crisis of consciousness filling out my customs declaration form. (And not just because I couldn’t remember how many litres of wine I brought with me as gifts.) I actually had to think about whether I was a visitor or a resident of Canada for a few seconds. It seemed so strange. I still have a house in Victoria, but I live in Innsbruck. I’m a resident of Austria, but am only legally allowed to work in Canada. Of course I am a visitor, but it did feel very strange to tick off those boxes. And that mixed with the excitement of coming ‘home’ as well as already feeling very far away from Annie and Markus made it all that much harder.

Travelling to Canada, on the other hand, has (so far, please don’t let me jinx my last leg from Calgary to Victoria) been a breeze. When I was rowing we used to do ‘fartlek’ workouts, where we would try to row at 45+ strokes per minute. The concept was that when we then rowed at 37 strokes per minute during a race, it would feel easier, more in control. The last couple of years, I have found that this principle holds true throughout most of life.

Getting less than 6 or 7 hours of sleep used to set me up for a very tired day, until I had a baby and didn’t see a 7-hour stretch of sleep for over 9 months. It felt like I could go days on 7 hours of sleep after that. Parenting on weekends now with Markus seems so much less stressful after this year’s long stretches of single-motherhood (in a foreign country, not speaking the language, with no friends or family). And travelling, even on long-haul flights half way across the world, is a dream after travelling to Europe with a small child. I watched 3 movies, had a short nap and am now easily filling a 3-hour layover in Calgary by emailing, Facebooking and blogging.

And most of all, I can’t tell you how easy it is going to be to arrange things when the people at the other end of the phone speak the same language as I do. Before I set out for even the most mundane errand these past 10 months (going to the dry-cleaners, drugstore, doctors, etc.), I’d try to practice and look up the German words that I might need to make myself understood. A couple of times I caught myself doing that with tasks I have to complete here in Canada. But no need!!!Â Movers arranged? Phone lines disconnected? Bank transactions? Easy peasy lemon squeezy compared to trying to do all of those things with my poor German and the other person’s broken English. Of course, all of those tasks are generally irritating, but I just know it will seem easier after this last year’s experience. I guess that is what is meant by the quip that you can’t appreciated the good times without some difficult times. Now if I can just remember this lesson the next time a difficult day hits.

May 17, 2009

Hannibal Over the Alps: Who Said History Was Boring?

Markus was catching up on my blog and commented that I hadn’t posted about the Hannibal show yet. Not sure how I let that one pass by, as it was one of the most impressive experiences of the year. Since we spent the whole day today baking ourselves in the city’s ginormous outdoor swimming complex, it seems a bit strange to be talking about partying in the snow. But I guess we Canadians are used to it, given that the hockey playoffs spill into June.

As part of my birthday present (because Paris wasn’t enough, lucky girl that I am), Markus bought tickets for the year-end show at the SÃ¶lden ski mountain. Each year a few of the main ski resort villages put on major performances to celebrate the end of the winter ski season.

For the last few years, SÃ¶lden has put on an amazing performance which focuses on the story of Hannibal, the Carthaginian military commander (about 200 BC), during the period he marched over the Alps into Italy.

There were over 5,000 people watching…and eating and drinking and buying stuff of course. (I know I’ve said it before, but except for the bank’s refusal to lend us money, I have seen very few examples of the effect of the financial crisis on this part of the world.) The event was incredibly efficiently run, starting with a couple of dozen buses providing non-stop transportation from the lower village to the mountain top. (I just closed my eyes and imagined good things as we teetered on the edge of the mountain switchbacks for the 15 minute journey.)

At the chalet we ate and drank and found our place at the base of the glacier to watch the action. Even before the main event there was a huge video screen and blaring music to accompany the dare-devil stunts of the fighter jets and B52 bombers zooming through the sky.

The event itself was a contemporary retelling of the Hannibal story, with a deep-voiced narrator and an English-speaking talk-show host moving the story along. The performance was incredible. We figure it took hundreds of thousands of Euros to put on this thing. There were dozens of performance skiers, helicopters, para-gliders, dancers and actors. 15 snowplows represented the elephants that Hannibal drove over the mountains, while a giant crane transported the overseeing goddesses and Hannibal to the scene. An ice pyramid provided a platform for the dancers as well as a real bed with some hot action.

After the stunt motorcycles and snowmobiles jumped over ice ramps, I thought we had hit the highlight of the show. That was when a real live avalanche was triggered. CA.RAY.ZY! To be followed by about a dozen parachuters carrying glowing lights jumping from planes. And of course, the whole thing ended with a spectacular fireworks display.

I decided to take my video camera, thinking that that would be a better way of capturing the performance. On review of the footage, I have discovered that, although I’m not a great photographer, my video taking skills are truly scheiÃŸe. Luckily, between the magic of YouTube and the existence of promotional videos, you get to see 3 incredible minutes of this stunning hour-and-a-half extravaganza. Enjoy.

May 15, 2009May 15, 2009

Blogs Really Can Save A Marriage!

I’ve had a bad day. Well, really only a bad afternoon. Due to my inability to read German, coupled with a very poorly laid out invitation (address in microscopic print at bottom), I missed an event that Annie’s daycare was putting on. (I thought it was at the daycare, silly me). We finally figured it out, but by the time we arrived the concert was over and I was completely and totally embarrassed at not being able to manage to get my child to where she needed to be on time. (Yes, I know she is going to be in 5,000 other events in her life and at 35-months old she couldn’t possibly care about the 90 seconds she wasn’t on stage. But still.)

So I stewed. About how tough it is to live somewhere where you don’t speak the language. About how the daycare teacher KNOWS I can barely speak German, never mind read it, and could/should have taken 45 second to walk me through the invitation. About how this year has, at times, been so difficult that sometimes I think maybe I made a very, very…very…bad mistake in coming here.

And what happens when I stew? Well, snap at Markus about something totally unrelated and not his fault, of course. To which he gets completely pissed off and doesn’t talk to me.

So I’m sitting in bed thinking about how we probably are going to be pissy mad with each other for a day or two. And how I am leaving for Victoria in a couple of days and if the plane crashes, boy, will we be sorry that we had a fight. (Also when I stew, my mind goes to dark places.)

So as a hopeful diversion, I start to troll through the blogs I follow, even though due to the time difference there really isn’t much hope of them having been updated since I last looked at them this morning. Since there is nothing new to de-stew me, I start clicking on banner ads. This finally gets me to this blog, called Cake Wrecks, that is entirely devoted to pictures and captions of professionally created cakes gone horribly wrong (talk about niche content!)

One post took me to an Amazon pre-order for the blogger’s book, with this image as the cover:

I had to look at it for quite a while before I understood what was happening, so that when I did get it I laughed so hard I had tears running down my face.

Markus finished his loooong bath (a passive-aggressive avoidance technique that we both employ), and I just couldn’t stop myself from sharing this with him. And of course, it also took him a few seconds to figure it out but when he did, he laughed so hard he had tears running down his face.

So in effect we made up and went to/are going to bed without being mad at each other (without really discussing the issue or resolving anything, but you take what you can get at the end of a bad day.) Just one more reason that I firmly believe that the Internet really is magic. Hocus Pocus. Marriage saved for one more day. Thank You.

May 12, 2009June 11, 2009

And A Little Bit More About Annie

Of course a visit from my mom wouldn’t be complete without unsolicited advice well-meaning suggestions. She was watching Annie chat in German with Claudia, the wonderful woman who has taken care of the hotel housekeeping for years, and suggested that I track the events in Annie’s life. ?? I feel like this blog is basically a idolatrous shrine to Annie, but I guess at least one reader feels that it is time to record some more of the events in my young daughter’s life. So here goes.

First of all, she had a riotous time with Nana and Grandpa Drew during their European visit. Annie would make her way down one flight of stairs and hang out in her grandparents’ room, well, pretty much constantly. They were her first words in the morning: “Are Nana and Grandpa sleeping?” Well, honey, as it is 6:30 in the morning, I’m pretty sure they are.

Going off to Paris was easy knowing that Annie was so happy to have some alone time with them. Although the language thing did throw my mom occasionally, they figured it out. Usually Annie can translate on request, but sometimes she only knows the word in German. But she didn’t starve, run around naked (outside) or, so the report goes, even really cry (hmmmph!), so they must have worked it out.

Here are some of the photos (You get a sense of the crazy weather in Innsbruck over this 3-week period. One week it was snowing, and the next week it was 20Â°C. Life in the mountains):

Much, much time was spent at the playground.

Grandpa Drew with Annie and her "cheese" smile

Nana bought Annie the sweetest Easter dress.

One thing that I’m very happy about is that Annie is so independent. (O.K., sometimes when I am in a hurry it makes me mental, but still…) She wants to feed herself, pour her milk, get dressed, have a bath, etc. etc. by herself. I can lay out her clothes on the bed and probably 80% of the time it all goes on, facing the right way, without much help. On that theme, she also stands up for herself, which I’m quite positive I never did. Her cousin Lili, also an only child, likes to direct the action and can be quite specific. Annie often goes along with the fun, as she idolizes Lili, but then if she really doesn’t want to do something, she is very adamant and does not back down. You go girl!

Annie does certainly love her cousin and sister Rebecca. I could go on and on about the fun times they have together, but I think this picture sums up Annie’s adoration for these two older girls in her life.

A great example of how a pictures says a thousand words.

The other thing that cracks me, and also gives me hope of Annie’s ability to make her way in the world, is how she approaches new activities. It happened with skating this winter and then, this weekend, on the trampoline. We went to Nutterer See (a nearby lake), which will be a great place to swim once it gets a bit warmer. But they also have a good playground with a trampoline. This was Annie’s first time on a trampoline and her reaction was so interesting to observe. At first she was scared, crying, whining, and flopping off to the side to stop the bouncing. But she kept trying it, even while crying and obviously totally frightened. She would look at me beseechingly, but when I offered to help she rejected my hand. By the end of the half hour she was giggling while bouncing around and getting irritated when Lili took too long on her turn (bouncing together was too much, but that will come I’m sure.) I’m glad Annie doesn’t give up on new things, but it is also pretty clear that my little girl is going to be a total drama queen about life’s events. Oh well…it’s not like we haven’t seen that one before.

And to finish off, a couple of my current favourite photos of Annie. The first one suggests that maybe she will be a dog lover, like her sister and unlike her mother and father. And I just love the one of her running, as it captures how she is most of the time these days: happy and in motion.

Run far my girl, but always come back to me.

April 27, 2009April 27, 2009

Paris: Part Deux

Wednesday and Thursday centered around what were my two main desires for our Paris trip, visiting the MusÃ©e D’Orsay and the Louvre.

Wednesday I made Markus get up early and head out so that we wouldn’t have to wait too long in line for the D’Orsay. Well, I mixed up the operating hours, so we were there an hour before the doors opened and no one was in sight. But that gave us an opportunity to finish our croissants and drink â‚¬ 4 coffees in an overpriced (as they all are in the touristy centre of Paris) cafÃ©.

Once inside, I was stunned by the beauty of the building. Formerly a train station built in late 1800’s, the space was remodeled in the 1980’s (thank goodness it missed the ’70’s!) Markus and I love the Impressionists (not very original, I know, but there is no accounting for taste), so we spent 3 hours getting our fill of Monet, Manet, and Degas. I have this incredible sense of well-being, calm, and inspiration when I am looking at art work that moves me. (Now I just need to figure out how to bottle that for injection during the rest of my life.) It was a perfect morning.

Here is a shot of the gorgeous interior, plus a couple of my favourite paintings (sorry about the quality…a photography class is next!).

In the afternoon Markus took a break, as he was battling a cold, and I headed for the shops. I only bought one top, but enjoyed browsing. All I have to say is “What financial crisis?!!” Everywhere was packed with people buying clothes and gifts and toys for their children. I guess that is why I continue to have faith that our little inner city hotel could do well; it has to get really, really, really bad before people give up their vacation plans entirely.

Thursday we headed out early again for the Louvre. There was a line but it snaked in very quickly. (I was actually amazing that, although people poured steadily in all day, the museum is so massive that we would still find ourselves in rooms all alone.) We had a bumpy start since I was getting a bit obstinate about wanting to be in a certain area of the museum, and were having trouble finding it. But eventually we got there, I relaxed, and Markus forgave me.

As everyone who has ever been to the Louvre told me, the place is so incredibly huge there is no chance of seeing everything…even if you had a month. So in the end we wandered a bit, got lost a bit, and saw all kinds of works from various periods.

One of the amazing areas was the artifacts from Ancient Egypt (and a bit from ancient Iran). The tombs, jewellery and stones covered with hieroglyphs made me just want to stand and stare for hours. As for paintings, Rembrandt was a favourite, so we spent a good amount of time viewing his works. We also toured Napoleon’s apartments, which of course were ridiculously, deliciously opulent. Always fun to imagine myself living that life. Perhaps I’d just be bored. Or not.

Overall the D’Orsay was the more complete experience for me, but I would/will go back to the Louvre without a doubt should I ever find myself back in Paris.

(I didn’t take any pictures of the artworks or artifacts, but here is the official site if you just have to see more.)

After the Louvre we had fresh sandwiches in a gorgeous park and then in the afternoon walked down the Avenue des Champs-Ã‰lysÃ©es. What a madhouse. (Again, what financial crisis??) So many beautiful people going in and out of beautiful shops. What an eyeful. Of course we just window shopped, but we did treat ourselves to a couple of â‚¬ 10 small drafts (ridiculous, but must be done) and people watched. Markus noted that it was easy to discern the tourists in their comfortable shoes from the Parisians who wouldn’t be caught dead without heels. Like all big cities, it would be more fun to live in Paris if you have loads of disposable cash.

I wish I could tell you that our 4 days ended with a bang and big party, but both of us were a bit beat from all the walking and had brain overload from all the amazing sites. So we hopped on the metro, took a stroll through another part of town, ate oh-my-goodness awesome crepes at a street side cafe, and went to an English-language movie. (A real treat for me, as they don’t often play undubbed movies in Innsbruck.)

The weather had been perfect all week despite predictions of rain, so we weren’t too surprised when the skies opened up just as we hopped in the car to make our way back to Innsbruck. We picked a very tired Rebecca up at the Munich airport (she was returning from 2 weeks in Canada for spring break) and had a quiet drive home.

I truly couldn’t have designed a better way to usher in (hopefully at least) the next 40 years of my life. I am blessed.

April 23, 2009June 11, 2009

Paris in the Springtime: Part 1

Last week Markus and I kissed Annie and hugged my mom and Drew goodbye (with lots of instructions and several phone numbers), and headed out in the car for a relaxing (for me, the passenger), very scenic 9-hour drive to Paris. The weather was gorgeous, and the landscape of mountains, farms and rolling hills were soothing and stunning at the same time.

We pushed through with only a couple of coffee breaks until we got to France. We decided to stop for lunch in a town near the highway, as opposed to a road-side restaurant. It being Easter Monday, our first couple of attempts in little French villages were thwarted, as the towns were closed. Not just the shops and restaurants, but everything. Not a person in sight, not a dog on the streets. A bit weird, although we appreciated looking at the charming architecture.

We finally made our way to a bit bigger town, Saverne, where we had a very tasty lunch. We walked around for a bit, and then found a spot with outdoor seating and the look of authentic cuisine. After a little coaching from Markus, I ordered what is apparently a local specialty, Tarte Flambe. I was expecting a tart or quiche-like meal, but instead was served a thin flat bread with three different toppings. The gorgonzola was unbelievable, but it was incredibly rich so I’m glad that there were other tastes as well. The bottom is slightly charred, which usually I wouldn’t like, but the flavours worked well together. With a glass of white wine and the warm sun on my back, it was a delicious way to start the trip. (Only a week later, I’m starting to crave Tarte Flambe and am wondering when I might be able to find this again.)

With surprising little trouble (given that I am useless at navigating, as my car sickness means I can’t look at a map for more than 2 seconds while the car is moving…not to mention my hopeless sense of direction,) we found our hotel.

I’ll mention here that this Parisian adventure was made possible by Markus’ and my family. (That is one for the ‘Can’t do this in Canada’ category: travel to Paris on birthday cash.) Markus’ parents joined a vacation club about 30 years back, and let us use some of their points for the 4 nights. The deal with this club is that they choose amazing locations, and the rooms are usually apartment style with small kitchen units. You still have to pay a maintenance fee and for parking, but with total of around â‚¬ 320, we couldn’t have found a decent place for one night in central Paris. And both my sets of parents and Markus’ grandmother chipped in on spending money, so it was all possible. (Thanks everyone!)

We were very happy with our small suite (one bedroom and main eating/living area). And being able to pop down to the bakery and bring back Pain aux Chocolat with fresh juice and coffee in the room was a perfect way to start the day.

And theyÂ weren’t kidding about the location. We were able to walk everywhere: Eiffel Tower, Louvre, Champs-Elysees. We took the metro a couple of times only because we had worn out our poor feet from hours and hours of strolling through the city and museums.

We were both pretty tired after the long drive, so after a short stroll around our ‘hood, a few pics, and a quick dinner, we went back to the hotel for a relaxing and refreshing sleep.

Saint-Eustache and adjacent gardens just down the street from our hotel

In the couryard in front of Saint-Eustache

The next morning our first stop at the local Patisserie was a real conundrum. We just couldn’t decide what to order, as it all looked delicious. I had a Pain aux Chocolat every day, and then one other treat to round things out. (Good thing we walked everywhere, as I’ve already gained weight sitting in bed with my broken elbow.)

Our first trek took us over the Pont-Neuf bridge to the Ile de la CitÃ©, an island of land in the middle of the Seine. (Clearly I was quite taken with this river and the architecture surrounding it, as many of my photos are of this historic waterway.) We walked by the 18th century buildings and made our way to Notre Dame. The legendary church is massive and epic, and the details of the art work are a bit overwhelming. But I don’t know if it is just that we have been to so many churches and so many castles in the last 6 months (I know, poor us), but neither of us were moved to spend hours looking around. It is, however, still an impressive memory.

Pont-Neuf and the tip of the island on a hazy spring morning

Maybe some good Catholic could tell me the deal with the guy holding his head.

Our plan for our first day in Paris was to visit theÂ MusÃ©e d’Orsay. However, the Louvre was closed that day so the line up was ridiculous. As neither Markus or I do long lineups unless absolutely unavoidable, we shifted plans and headed along the river to the Eiffel Tower.

Neither of us really wanted to go up the tower, even before we saw the massive line ups, so that was an easy decision. The park around the towers was beautiful, and we found a little cafe with street side tables for lunch.

After lunch we decided to hit the Paris Museum of Modern Art. We enjoyed looking at some of the sculptures as well as art deco furniture and glass work, and expressed our opinions about the paintings. Markus and I have similar tastes in historical paintings and sculptures, but different things move us with modern art. Interesting opinions ensue. We saw one artist that really reminded us of our friend Lucie Marlo’s work, but unfortunately his/her name escapes me.

One thing I was really struck with throughout our trip was how much green space has been retained in the heart of Paris. Large parks and gardens are impressive, but also areas with just grass and trees are plentiful. It made strolling through the city a real treat.

After a rest/nap, we found a very French bistro with a very French waiter, and quenched our cravings for Steak Frites. That was fine, but it was the appy that really got me. Raw vegetables with a goat cheese fondue that was seriously spectacular, served in a little, scalding hot, cast iron pot. After the veggies were gone I dipped bread, and when I was starting to get worrisomely full, I took my spoon and just ate the melted cheese. YeeeUuuuMmmm!

A memorable first day.

P.S.

Taken strolling along the Seine. Too bad it was too early for a beer.

April 20, 2009

A Lovely Birthday Morning

The story and pics of Paris will be up soon, but I just wanted to do a short post on this day, my 40th birthday. (So weird, I tell you. I think of myself as much younger and am constantly forgetting I’m not a puppy anymore.)

I woke up before Annie did, a big treat, and then heard her toddle into our room. She gave me a big snuggle and then, when I told her it was my birthday, attempted to sing Happy Birthday and claimed, “but it isn’t in your closet.” O.K. then.

Markus and Annie made me crepes with strawberries and Canadian Maple syrup, which is one of my favourites. Even Rebecca woke up early to join us. Right now, after chatting with Markus and my mom, I’m sitting on our balcony reading a book. I feel content and happy and pretty lucky to be in this beautiful setting.

Tonight we will all go out for dinner and then back to the cafe for cake. A lovely way to spend my birthday.

Here is my view on this gorgeous morning (click on the picture to enlarge):

The mountains actually feel even closer in person.

April 9, 2009April 9, 2009

A Stunning Spring Day in the Mountains

I’m celebrating my first day being able to type with two hands by resuming my blogging. The cast came off on Tuesday, and after yesterday’s physio session, I can turn my wrist enough to lay it on the keyboard and type. Yahoo! I’ll keep this short though, as I’m pretty sure my forearm will start to ache soon.

Mom and Drew arrived Tuesday for a visit to Innsbruck. Drew had a 4 week volunteer management stint in Serbia, so Mom joined him for the last week. They enjoyed Belgrade and then visited Budapest and Vienna on route to Innsbruck. Mom will be here for another 2 weeks (and look after Annie while we go to Paris) and Drew will be here until next Tuesday.

This last week has brought almost summer-like conditions here in this part of Europe. So strange. A week before there was snow on the ground, and then suddenly the temps are above 20 Â° C. Markus wanted to get one last ski in before the season ended, so we all piled into the car and took the funicular to the top of Axamer Lizum,Â a mountain about 25 minutes drive from Innsbruck door-to-lift.

Markus had some beautiful runs while Mom, Drew and I enjoyed the sun, warm weather, and spectacular view. Here are some pics and a short video of the panoramic view of the mountains, including a shot of a cross, a required feature on the top of every mountain in this very Catholic country.

Markus ready to enjoy a gorgeous Spring ski.

Panorama at Axamer Lizum from Hillary Samson on Vimeo.

March 29, 2009

Typing With One Hand

Yesterday was a beautiful day. Sunny and warm. The first real day of Spring here in Innsbruck. Annie, Markus and I decided to head out for a bike ride along the river. Although no one over 6-years old here wears a helmet, I’m just not comfortable with that, so popped out to the sports store while Markus got Annie geared-up.

We made it through downtown and were on a paved back lane that runs beside the pedestrian trial. I was behind Markus and was keeping an eye on them so I didn’t get too close. Up ahead, past Markus’s shoulder, I too late noticed a car backing out of the driveway. There was a high fence around the sides of the driveway, so the driver had no chance to see us. Markus manged to stop with control (thank goodness), but I squeezed my brakes hard and went head first over my handle bars. My face got the worst of it…or so I thought. The driver of the car checked that we weren’t dead, made sure we had the address, and then took off. I guess that “don’t leave the scene of an accident” rule isn’t so important here.??

Anyway, a lovely woman walking by called an ambulance for us. Poor Annie was a bit confused. She kept saying, “You got jam on your Mund (mouth in German.) You have to wash it off.” She rescued my water bottle from the road, sweet girl, and kept close to Dad.

Two very young looking attendants came (god, I’m getting old), luckily who both spoke English, as I wasn’t thinking clearly enough to speak German. Long story shortish, after 2 tries at an x-ray, a CT scan, and more thanÂ few tears (I used to have such a high pain tolerance but now am a total wimp), I went home with a fat lip, nasty shiner under my eye, banged up knee, and a very long cast over my broken elbow. Luckily, it looks like only a hairline fracture, so the cast should be off in 10 days.

When I came home Annie kept telling me the story: you fell off your bike; you went in a funny chair; you rode in the amblience; you hurt this knee (correctly pointing to her left knee), not this knee; you got jam on your Mund…She cracks me up. She also went through her routine on what she knows about the doctor: first you take off all your clothes… Then she gives me a little rub on my back and a kiss to make it better.

Rebecca looked after Annie while Markus stayed with me at the hospital. Once I was home she popped in every little while to bring me water or ask if I needed anything. And Markus, of course, is taking very good care of me. What a great family I have.

This morning my knee is less stiff and the pain killers are starting to work for my arm. All in all, as people keep reminding me, not too bad and of course could have been worse, like if I hadn’t been wearing a helmet! But I did have to get Markus to take one photo for posterity. Clearly looking for a bit of sympathy with those puppy dog eyes.