It all happened because I can’t have kids…
No, actually, it really is a result of the car brakes starting to sound like the witch’s thick fingernails on that ceramic plate in Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves…
Wait, wait, no. It is a result of spending so much time lately with the Sister Missionaries…
I got it. I got it. It came about because I saw the movie Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves 10 times back in 1991.
Let me back up…
I can’t have kids because I was sick and had my guts ripped out.
New brakes on the Twingo (car) had to wait until pay-day; that’s the unfortunate reason why their grinding makes you want to pull your hair out.
The Sister Missionaries are teaching us awesome things about living in Germany, like introducing us to Kaufland, the WalMart of Germany. Only not WalMart.
I saw Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves 10 times after it came out. By the third time, I felt like I was running through that forest and knew I had to see a castle in my lifetime.
uh…I should back up farther and tell you what the question was… Sometimes I get the cart before the horse. No, actually, I just like creating mazes with writing… (Sorry if I lost you with the expectation of following my madness.)
The question is:
How is being in Germany effecting your 36th birthday?
As badly as we want them, having kids would have kept me from coming along on this one-year/non-spouse sponsored (Army doesn’t pay for me to be here) contract of Alan’s.
We were relieved on this day–after much prayer that we wouldn’t crash before pay day–to find a mechanic nearby who could take care of our Twingo’s brakes the following day.
We spent a perfectly beautiful afternoon with the Sister Missionaries on their Prep Day/day off of teaching. We went to lunch at Supan Thai Bistro on the Hauptstrasse,
Sister Nieman, Sister Carey, Woody (under the table) My Al, and me. (Sorry, Sister Nieman. I can’t get that reflection of your fork off of your face. –That ladder has an electric lift and was there with men moving furniture out.)
and then up to the Heidelberg castle.
Then later, we were in awe for over an hour as we grocery shopped at their recommendation of Kaufland (translates to “Purchaseland”; it’s huge! for Germany) where we got more for our money.
And I cannot help but think of Robin Hood when I climb through that forest to get to that castle. I want to yell (in my deepest impersonation of a lookout voice), “To the trees!” and then see Robin’s troops scatter. It doesn’t matter that it’s not England’s forest. It feels the same as my memory thought it would.
Before yesterday, it was my actual birthday. We did the Sabbath thing with post-church-meeting highlights of Alan’s delicious pan baked birthday brownie (no oven, remember?) and a long evening stroll through the Leimen hillside.
And before that day when we met up with the Sister Missionaries, they had baked me some yummy homemade pretzels. They asked Alan earlier what I like, he told them salty things, they saw me buy a soft pretzel the last time we went out with them and the rest is history.
At age 16 I was fantasizing about castles and actually painted one on my bedroom wall.
Age 26 seems like a fantasy world ago with all that has happened since then. The general consensus is that I’ve been 26 for the past ten years. When people continue to say, “You’re how old? I would have guessed 26,” it only enhances the dreamlike sense associated with the last decade. And makes me think they need to get their eyes checked.
Visiting real castles makes me feel 16 again. But nothing could make me want to be 26 again. Not even the wrinkles on my 36 year old face.