Remembrance

It's been rather quiet this past week on the blog as the living of life has taken precedent over the documentation of it. In the span of nine months, both members of the celebratory couple in the photo above have moved on from this world.

'Lost one's battle with cancer' implies a number of things that were not in Jean Dwaileebe's character, chief among them admitting defeat. I am not sure that stubbornness is technically on the list of cancer treatments, but I can't help but think that it might be now and should probably be studied for its surprising effectiveness. 

Stubbornness, a penchant for mischief and the ability to always appreciate a good joke are the characteristics that she had in spades. On my best days I like to think that I embody two of these traits. On the rest, the other one. We are, all of us, a mixed bag of personality from the various members of our family trees. I feel lucky that I was able to get to know and love the source of many of mine.

Unpacked

When moving into a Swiss apartment there is a formal meeting that takes place between the previous tenant, the leasing agent and the new tenant (and in our case our relocation agent). All parties meet at the apartment in question and the leasing agent goes through the entire residence inch by inch, noting anything that is damaged or irregular. During the inspection, the leasing agent who I will refer to as PF (for Perpetual Frown) took the better part of two hours to scribble endlessly on her notepad face like a thundercloud, muttering angrily in French while we looked on, completely perplexed.

It is expected that the outgoing tenant leave the residence in spotless condition. As in eat-off-the-toilet-seat spotless. Given the massive security deposits that are required to rent anything here, it's no wonder that most people hire a company to come in and scour the place.

After her inspection, the PF pointed out three things that were not cleaned to her satisfaction (one side of the door on the dishwasher, a 3''x 3'' spot on the gleaming tub and some spots on the bathroom grout) and listed the total fine if the areas in question were not cleaned by the end of the week (500 CF...seriously). After we all shook hands and went our separate ways, I made a mental note to cover the entire apartment in Clorox-soaked bubble wrap during our stay to avoid getting nailed when it is time for us to leave.

We were able to pick up the keys a few days later and set a move-in date for Friday. Setting a date was exciting not just because we were finally moving into our home for the foreseeable future, but also because it meant that our belongings had made it to dry land and were not, in fact, sitting on the floor of the Atlantic.

As someone who's idea of moving, (until now) has involved bribing various less-than-enthused friends and family members, carrying absurdly large items on public transportation and filling garbage bags with everything within arms reach, just the idea of having movers still blows my mind. When they actually showed up on time (!), were insanely nice (!!) and had our things off the truck and unpacked within a matter of hours (!!!) I was pretty sure I was in some sort of dream and would soon awaken to reality (which in this case would involve all our furniture tossed in a heap at the bottom of the staircase and some little imp laughing at me as I tried to lug it upstairs while crying)

The fact that the moving crew were not just smiling, but singing after carrying my monstrous black cabinet up five flights of stairs was more than I could handle. For I have had to move that cabinet less than fifty yards and the words that came out of my mouth while doing so were along the lines of "I'm dead now! My back is broken! Leave me - save yourselves!" etc.

After the Jolly Movers had left and the dust settled, we began the arduous task of Putting Everything in Its Place. Anthony was a hero and rewired all our lamps while I set about the (equally demanding) task of making things look pretty. We started on Friday afternoon and did not stop moving until Saturday night when our legs gave out and we had to start self medicating with wine.

It is very surreal to be rearranging one's possessions on a new continent. Every time I put something away, my brain would say ''my electric toothbrush! The last time I saw this I was in Chicago! I can't believe it's here! How cool!'' Contrary to popular belief, this did not get old.

And then, at some undefinable point, we stopped putting things away in a new apartment and started putting them away in our new apartment. We cooked a meal and ate it in our living room while watching a movie. Bliss.

It's good to be home.

Meandering

At the risk of sounding as though we have fallen into a rut after only two weeks of being here, we decided to walk into Lutry again this past weekend.

Do you guys remember the computer game Myst? Doesn't this little octagonal building remind you of one of the buildings in the game? We've walked by it several times but cannot figure out what it is for. I can only assume that it is a magical portal waiting to transport a stranger to another age.

The volume of birds that partake in Sunday relaxation is staggering. Herons, swans, seagulls, pigeons, mallards and a number of interesting varieties I can't even name. Coming from Chicago I am used to associating birds (pigeons specifically) with germs, disease, and all manner of deformities. I have to admit that the very cool Swiss-ness of these birds is warming my begrudging heart a bit. (A very little bit).

The mountains were very hazy that morning. I tried to capture their shyness.

After a cozy little lunch, we wandered around Lutry and Anthony decided he wanted to make some beef stew for dinner. While he was procuring vegetables, I poked around the farmer's stalls with my camera.

Wee carrots about to be slaughtered and boiled. Tasty.

Exhibit A

While Anthony chopped and diced and browned and sauteed, I sat by and...watched. In a helpful way.

Exhibit B

The cheap tea selection here is great.

While dinner bubbled away on the stove, I kept up my strength with the above gift from the sugar gods.

Our things arrived yesterday, delivered by the most good-natured crew of movers I have ever met. Even after carrying my appallingly heavy black cabinet up five flights of stairs, they proceeded to set it up while laughing and I kid you not, singing. Unreal. (In a good way). This weekend we will be busy setting everything up and making our new place feel like home. I am so excited.

Happy weekend!

Some photos from around the neighborhood

Here are a smattering of photos from around our temporary neighborhood. There are books, carbs, plants and great views all within reach. So, life is good.

We took a stroll through the botanical gardens that are a block down from our temp apartment. Even though it's currently overcast and not much is growing, we could see that come summer, the place will just be overwhelmed with greenery. The garden is designed so that as you walk, you spiral up a hill and presented with an incredible view upon reaching the top. Definitely a place to come back to in the summer.

Also, ALSO, you guys, WE FOUND AN APARTMENT. I didn't want to say anything until all the paperwork was processed and the money hemorrhaging begun for fear of jinxing it. But it is ours, a vintage beauty that is both in a good area, in our price range and within spitting distance (as in, I could lean out my window and spit on it, but I won't because that would be sacrilege) of a delicious Lebanese restaurant. Our things come on Friday. I cannot wait to set up our new home. Pictures will follow.

But for now, a happy Tuesday.

Sunday: A time for brunch and adventure

In the short week we have been here, we have learned a few things. Namely, that Sundays are for chilling out. All the stores are closed (including grocery stores) and most of the restaurants so any and all procurement of goods needs to be done on Saturday. This ends up leaving Sunday for the following activities: dusting and rearranging one's collection of pre-WWII thimbles, harvesting lint balls from one's sweaters, getting dressed to work out and then deciding to rearrange all household books by author, etc.

Having reaped a bumper crop of lint the week before we arrived in Lausanne, we decided to spend our Sunday by having a little brunch at a local cafe and then taking a long and meandering walk along the lake.

Not really being brunch people in Chicago, the art of brunching (is that a legit verb, brunching?) is still new to us. We managed to ooze out of bed at the appropriately late hour and strolled to Cafe de Grancy which is a cute little restaurant that had the coziness one would expect when combining two meals.

The thing is, I could say that the reason I have never been into brunch is because I'm not a fan of enormous stacks of pancakes slathered with whipped cream and french toast where the bread is actually made from butter but that, Internet, would be a lie.

The fact of the matter is that I love decadent breakfast food. I love it so much that I have no self control whatsoever and end up eating myself into a painful, comatose oblivion that lasts the rest of the day. When I first moved to Chicago and discovered the wonder that is Flat Top Grill's endless brunch, I lost my mind with happiness. Then I realized that none of my clothes fit anymore so I forbid myself from ever going back. Moderation, sadly is not a term that I am familiar with.

In long short, I was pleasantly surprised to see that this brunch consisted of lots of healthy, delicious options served in normal sized portions. We got an incredible bread basket with coffee and tea.

Anthony got some smoked salmon and toast (devoured too quickly to photograph) while I martyred contented myself with a fruit salad. I expected to be served the standard bowl of three grapes, five pineapple chunks and assorted filler (ahem, melon), but what I received was this. A totally feng-shui bowl of fruity bliss. Fruit salad, I am sorry I pre-judged you. I retract any and all prior negative comments.

After we finished our meal, we headed down to the boulevard that runs along the water's edge.

I'm not sure how far the path extends, but we decided to walk as far as Lutry, three towns away.

It was nice to see how many people were out strolling. Even with the overcast and slightly nippy weather, the path was bustling.

Even the mountains made an appearance.

There were a number of swans gliding around. I've never really seen swans in the wild before so I was taken aback by their creepily agile snakelike necks. Not to judge prematurely, but I don't think we will ever be on the best of terms. I've seen Black Swan. I know what these things are capable of.

Here is Anthony patiently letting me take a photo of him and ignoring my pleas for him to smile.  (and I'm the stubborn one)

We passed so many sailing clubs. I can't wait for warmer weather when the lake is dotted with boats.

We meandered through Pully (Poo-wee) where we found a number of interesting buildings and (and!!!) a miniature train track that insinuated that in the summer, a tiny little train, carrying adorable Swiss children will be running along it.

Taking advantage of a highly reflective door to grab a photo.

We made it to Lutry and decided to wander through the town. Falling somewhere on the scale of beauty between model village and Thomas Kincaid painting (haha! jokey jokes!), Lutry was magical. There were high pitched emotions falling out of my mouth in a way I'm not proud of, but I couldn't contain myself.

Can you blame me?

We found a little antique shop that was open for a few hours and poked around. The sheer volume of lovely things made it nearly impossible to act like financially responsible adults. While I did manage to avoid buying a wall cabinet with a hand-marbled interior (for now), I could not resist this vintage tobacco tin. I'm not sure what I'm going to use it for yet, but I highly doubt that I will ever get tired of looking at it.

Happy Wednesday!

Saturday Morning Market

On Saturday morning, we strolled to the open produce market on the main pedestrian walkway in Lausanne. Our goal was to acquire some nice things for a lunch at home. As we strolled through the stalls however, we realized that our minimal-at-best language skills were not going to cut it. There is a rather intense sounding dialogue that takes place over open-air fruits and vegetables and watching it made me feel as though I was in one of those actor nightmares where you show up on opening night and don't know any of your lines.

(edit: we now know that we would have been fine and were just being cowards)

So we contented ourselves instead with wandering through the streets and simply admiring the wares on display.

Then the food surrounding us started to play mind games.

And soon our stomachs were rumbling.

Anthony located a tiny pizza parlor in the nick of time. Just as my stomach rumblings were making small objects begin to fall off shelves.

Pizzaesfizi: vendor of temptingly decadent Italian style pizzas.

There were about six different pizzas to choose from, (white bean and bacon to zucchini and gorgonzola to pecorino and pepper) and in my hunger I burst out "Yes. Hello. I would like to try ALL THE PIZZAS!"*

The chef looked at me very seriously and said "you can have as many as you like you know" and picking up a pair of scissors continued, "just point to the ones you want and tell me how much you would like of each and I will cut a slice for you"

(Then my head exploded from happiness.)

We ended up trying five of the options, each one more delicious than the last. When we had exhausted the plate and had unceremoniously adjusted our belts, my inner Veruca Salt was finally content.

(Now all I want is an Oompa Loompa.)

*Some paraphrasing and slight exaggeration may have occurred. When I am hungry, short term memory functions shut down to conserve energy.