From Germany to Rome, Part I

It’s spring. You know how I know? The goddamn birds start singing way too early in the morning. It’s not just the morning. Its all freakin’ day. And it’s every goddamn bird in the world, sitting in my backyard. They were fun in the winter. I put out little seed balls near the windows so my cats would go crazy and suck glass every time a little birdie came around. It worked. The birds quickly figured out that the giant cats could not get them and the cats never figured out that no matter how many times they did their throat clicking, they were never gonna get that bird. Cruel? Maybe. Blame the Torture Monkey.

There is a bird variety that sounds like a rusty swing or gate that keeps moving back and forth looking for a little oil on the hinges. I was going crazy yesterday. I thought it was the kids in the yard. I mean, it was driving me crazy, but I’m not old enough to start shouting out my window at kids, right? I mean, that’s going a little over board, right? So when I found out it was a bird, I felt like the cats, clicking at the window, sucking glass, dying to oil his hinge. Karma, man, it’s a bitch.

So, before I go on, I want to thank J, Hamish and Calvin for postponing our little gathering last weekend. Saturday morning I got up early for a little alone time with my best friend forever (my computer). I was in my robe, eating honey toast, preparing to write a little something and in comes Sparky, fully dressed in a nice button down shirt and slacks.

It was early and if you know Sparky he’s the 10 more minutes kind of guy. “Let me sleep just 10 more minutes.” “I need just 10 more minutes on the computer.” “We’ve got 10 more minutes before we have to leave.” So seeing him up so early and completely dressed was odd.

“Get dressed and pack a bag. We might be gone over night”, he ordered.

Whaaaa??? I was still in my 10 more minutes’ mode and here he was shoving me out of my chair and into the bedroom closet?

“We’re going on a trip and it’s a surprise. Dinner has been postponed. House is clean. Get going.”

So dress I did, pack I did and off we went. We stopped to wash the convertible because this is still planet Earth and Sparky might have gotten up early, but he can’t drive the convertible unless he can see his reflection in the hood. After the car wash, we were off.

Where? Well, Sparky named it the “From Germany to Rome” journey. We traveled along the Rhine to the Mosel River and followed the Mosel to Trier. Trier being the last outpost of the Romans. We stayed the night in Trier and the next day I added Luxembourg to my countries list.

As an aside, let me tell you, every time I saw a sign for say, Bonn, I’d say “Belinda!” or Koblenz “J!” or Düsseldorf “James!” or Aachen “Lisa!“ or Hannover “Christina!” or Kaiserslautern “Annette!” or Saarland “Lisa!” I’m a total nerd.

Along the way to Trier we stopped and ate in Rüdesheim. Rüdesheim is the nicest friendliest town. Even the houses are a friendly yellow, not the on-sale-yellow that people in my area prefer. All along the Rhine, it was sunny and blue and friendly and the water glistened and the music rocked and the car shined and Sparky smiled and my heart started to thaw. We made some purchases in Rüdesheim. Pictures to follow.

Then we drove on, top down, sunglasses and baseball cap in place. It was chilly, but the sky was that light blue. You know, practice blue. Like it had been overcast and white for so long, that it needs the practice to remember how to shine blue again. It was heaven. Gilbert was happy too. He’s been inside for too long.

So later today I will tell you about Trier. I have to run an early morning errand and wanted to post something before Sparky took over.