She's So Heavy

According to my handy wheel-of-pregnancy, I am at the end of my 27th week and nearing the end of month number 7 of The Miracle of Life.

Baby is the size of a "head of cauliflower," weighs about a kilo, and expresses a preference for Mean Mr. Mustard.

I am finally getting accustomed to this new development and, I daresay, even starting to enjoy it. Aside from a few horrific side-effects (anyone know what the sciatic nerve is?), I'm getting excited to have the baby. Everything is a "bunny" or a "buggy" now, and my early intermittent pleas for a kitty - flatly and heartlessly refused by Fritz - found a receptive audience at Oma's birthday party a couple of weekends back..

There I was with six or seven of Fritz' female relatives gathered around, relating my sad tale of kittyless existence to nods of deep sympathy...how could he deny me such a request?! In Deutschland, pets rank higher than children on the totem pole, so I have a good feeling about Christmas this year.

And now that we've found a new home, it's looking even more likely. Just up the street we discovered a huge house for rent with seven rooms, a huge yard and garden with a porch, a basement workshop and wine cellar. It's a dreamhouse and if we get it (we'll know later this week), it means I can have the baby at home..no nasty hospital/doctors required.

The Bagel Incident (apropos of nothing in particular)

Long before we headed to Berlin, I had a program for when we got there: locate a bagel with cream cheese. It was a singular desire for many many weeks and when we finally arrived I was excited to spot a cafe advertising bagels. Of course, it would be impossible to find an actual bagel shop, so I had to settle for the cafe-with-bagels-on-the-menu deal.

To my chagrin, the cafe did not have a toaster. I repeat, I could have my bagel, but it would not be toasted. It get's worse. All the bagels come as sandwiches, with lettuce, onion, tomato and regular cheese. Truth be told, I have never been confronted with this kind of scenario before. Sure you can get a bagel sandwich in California, but it's strictly a sideshow. The hot bagel toasted with cream cheese is the point. To Germans, the bagel is just another piece of bread.

Blindsided by the injustice done to the bagel, I begrudgingly ate one anyway. The next day, we passed yet another cafe with "bagels" on the menu board. We decided to see if they had a toaster, which they did. My faith renewed, I immediately ordered my "bagel with cream cheese." Ten minutes later, I was horrified to see my toasted bagel served in sandwich form with green, herb cream cheese. Needless to say, I resolved never to order another bagel again.

The Power of Necessity

My limited mobility, the cold weather and my endless cravings for all things American have resulted in some impressive culinary creations. Thanks to the internet and fellow ex-pats around the world who miss their beloved bagels, I happened upon a bagel recipe and decided to give it a shot.

And then, for Oma's birthday I decided to experiment with an apple pie. The pie tins had to be ordered from the U.K., but a little determination goes a long way...

I also produced some yum biscuits - American ones, of course - but those puppies didn't last long enough for a photo.


Facebook is Evil

Some months ago, I decided to get off of Facebook (TM). But when I got around to deleting my account and information, I discovered I couldn't. Any pictures already posted are permanent and it wouldn't let me remove or change my name or email. My requests to change my information were "rejected by the system." In the end I managed to change my screen name temporarily to "Horace Dikshit," but this was a superficial change. I finally selected the "delete account" option and signed out. But FB does not delete anything. You can sign in for the rest of your life. My "friends" wondered why I changed my name. They sent me messages. I finally understood that there is no way out. So heed this warning, kiddies: those pics of you (and me) getting drunk with friends will be there long after you're gone.

Enough rambling. I'm exhausted (all the time). Just 13 weeks left!
until soon,
Hari Om
LMH

PS: Congrats to the two high school friends who are also pregnant right now! It's spawning time..