Laowai

We took a few days for a vacation to an area that is new to us – the canton Uri – right in the middle of the country. We did some hiking and wandered around some pretty old towns. We took a long boat ride and a quick gondola ride.  

We stayed in a town called Altdorf. Here’s the view from a little walk we took above the town. The valley leads eventually to the Gotthard Pass.

Bea found lots of little lizards.

The legend of William Tell comes from this region – here he is with his cross bow and his son. 

And here’s my towering hero. Look how short the doors were in our hotel. We couldn’t figure it out. Everything else was normal sized in this old, creaky, but nice building.

Here’s the boat we road on lake Urner. Lucerne is at the other end of the chain of lakes.

I went a little nutty and took about a hundred photos of the big flag on the back of the boat. It was so pretty blowing in the wind. And then I stared at it a really long time and zoned out. Just like you get mesmerized when you stare at a camp-fire.

The swiss love to cut tunnels through their mountains.

We rode a little gondola into the high hills. There are tons of gondolas or cable cars in the area – some are just two person open afairs. Ours was meant to hold 15 people. Still, poor Brian did not like it! He ended up walking down instead of taking the gondola ride again.

Moo.

We hiked to a cool playground along a stream. The best part was this mini cable car. Here’s Bea turning the crank that made it go up into the woods and back again. You can see the big rock that got to go for a ride. 

Back in the town of Altdorf. There was a folk music festival happening. It was the biggest concentration of accordions and lederhosen that I’ve ever experienced.

Just relaxing at a playground.

The canton flag was proudly diplayed all over.

Pretty, pretty everywhere.

We didn’t make it to the open wine cellars day this year, but I still had to get a photo of the posters – I like them so much. 

Here’s 2011

and 2010

They make me laugh – discovering, everyday, just how different they are. Notice above that Bea is wiping her hands clean; Claire has tasted the paint and is moving on to painting the table.

For Mother’s Day we went back to the Seleger Moor Garden. Very pretty!

Here’s Bea threading the rhododendron blooms that she found on the ground onto a stick.

I like this list that Grace wrote on Sew Liberated. I wish I had written it.

MOTHERHOOD IS

…the hardest, best, funnest, and most motivating thing I have ever done

…getting to know each of your children as individuals: realizing how very different all people really are

…the opportunity to see, hear, smell, taste, and feel everything afresh

…new baby bliss

…nursing while typing

…knowing everything about another person and still being surprised every single day by their very being

…needing your own mother again

…wanting to freeze time, and knowing you can’t

Claire collided into a wall today while she was riding her Bobby Car. It was pure Claire. We were on our way back from the park and the path dips down to go under the train tracks. She was zooming down pretty fast and it was making me nervous. She jerked her little steering wheel so she was swirving back and forth. Of course she was giggling the whole time. She’s an adrenaline junkie. By the time she got to the bottom of the hill (I promise it’s not a huge hill at all) she was blissfully out of control. The low point of the path was filled with a layer of mud because we had some heavy rain last night. She crashed into the wall and landed on her face and when she sat up her whole face and one side of her body was covered in black mud. After only a couple minutes she calmed down and she seemed OK. 

I gave her a bath as soon as we got home and I checked her over. She’s fine but it’s not pretty. And of course she has a check-up next Monday.

Oh Claire E. – you are going to give your Mommy a heart attack.

We took a trip to the other side of the lake on Sunday. There’s a little gondola (a Luftseilbahn) that goes to the top of the big hill. Whenever you step off a gondola in Switzerland it’s a good bet that you’ll find a quaint (and pricey) little restaurant and a playground. This place was no exception. At the gondola station there was a cool cow with a map of the area painted on her.

A short walk through a pretty forest.

And here we are at the playground. They had a little electric swing ride – pure bliss for the girls. 

Another cow at the restaurant.

Great views even on a cloudy day. 

On the way home I had to snap some photos of the train station in Adliswil. It’s a typical station but it was painted with all sorts of lively plants and flowers. Somebody did a really nice job.

We’ll be back on a sunny day.

I was looking back through my blog posts and found this bit of writing that I never posted. Since I wrote it Grandma has had to get a new stove. The new stove works perfectly but it could never be as good as this one with the broken knobs and scratched up surfaces. 

This is a photo that Jennifer took a while back and I have been coveting it. It’s Grandma Dice’s stove and everything about the photo says grandma. What is it about an appliance that can be so meaningful? I guess it’s because the stove and every other familiar item in the kitchen are is so closely associated with what Grandma is all about.

Her smiling, welcoming, easy, warm, familiar kitchen is her. I’ve jumped rope in that kitchen. I’ve made cookies on the opened dishwasher door. I’ve been given countless cookies. I’ve been offered tomatoes and rhubarb and wrapped up pieces of cake as I walked out the door. I’ve pulled taffy there. I was picked up by the ears by Uncle Scott. I’ve curiously watched sinks full of green beans waiting to be canned. I’ve been given cold, cold lemonade. I learned how to make an orange julius. I’ve been carried out sleeping on my Mom or Dad’s shoulder. I’ve spun round and round on the desk chair. I’ve run back and forth and out the screen door with my cousins. I’ve held hands with Grandma. I’ve been given celery sticks to munch. I’ve watched Grandma and Grandpa hug and kiss each other. And I bet I’ve been kissed by Grandma every single time I’ve ever walked into that room – that’s just what you get when you walk into Grandma’s kitchen.