For several weeks when I went out on my back deck in the early morning, this beautiful deer would be wandering around behind our fence, probably looking for the critter corn I throw out for the squirrels and deer. The deer clearly had sustained an injury or something to one of its knees, as it kind of limped around while walking. I called her Bum-knee Bambi. While I stood on my deck, she would stand and look directly at me for really long periods of time. Then she would assume this resting position and just lie there peacefully for hours. Our friendship lasted a few months and then one day she wasn't around anymore. Probably met up with the wrong crowd. They were probably wearing orange hunting vests. Venison happens. No biggie.
I'm not generally one who enjoys walking around in the snow. For one thing, the idea of slipping, falling, breaking a bone just has very little appeal. I don't want to end up being "Bum-knee B". However, a while back when I went to Weisbaden, Germany with the hubby while he was on a work trip, it was either get out and walk around in the cold snowy weather, or stay in the tiny hotel room and look out the tiny window at the tiny courtyard. I'm way too hyper for that nonsense, so I walked. Safely and successfully.
One evening DeWayne and I decided to go out and find our way to a new-to-us restaurant that our friend Ruthie from Wichita had recommended. The Stadl. It wasn't in the town center, but rather in the residential section. And it was about 1.5 miles one-way from our hotel. So, we bundled up and ventured out into the dark while it lightly snowed.
This is the neighborhood we walked through. (I took the pics next day, just had to see the area in the daylight) Isn't it cool?
After walking way over 1.5 miles down what we believed to be the correct street, we gave up and decided to hoof it back to our hotel. Well, to be precise, the mister thought it wise to give up our search. I wasn't ready to give it up, and probably whined a bit. Hey, it's what I do from time to time.
As we walked back down the same street we'd just traveled, we were in complete darkness except for the window lights coming from the homes along the way. I let myself gaze at these homes with warmly lit windows and imagine happy families inside their homes, sitting at the dinner table. Or maybe they were fighting over the toilet paper being hung on its holder wrong, who knows.
After a bit, as I was gazing at the beautiful homes I noticed a small dimly lit sign on the lower level of one of the high rise residential buildings, actually more like below ground level. Sure enough, we finally found our destination. Easily missed on our first trip down this street. The sign was dimly lit and the windows were totally dark. I convinced DeWayne that yes, we really did need to go up and at least look in the windows. As we opened the gate and walked toward the window to peer in, the door suddenly opened and the owner of the restaurant appeared. She spoke pretty decent English, and told us that she was just now opening up for the evening and we would need reservations. We explained that our American friend had recommended the Stadl. And she suddenly had a change of heart, saying "Come on in."
One evening DeWayne and I decided to go out and find our way to a new-to-us restaurant that our friend Ruthie from Wichita had recommended. The Stadl. It wasn't in the town center, but rather in the residential section. And it was about 1.5 miles one-way from our hotel. So, we bundled up and ventured out into the dark while it lightly snowed.
This is the neighborhood we walked through. (I took the pics next day, just had to see the area in the daylight) Isn't it cool?
After walking way over 1.5 miles down what we believed to be the correct street, we gave up and decided to hoof it back to our hotel. Well, to be precise, the mister thought it wise to give up our search. I wasn't ready to give it up, and probably whined a bit. Hey, it's what I do from time to time.
As we walked back down the same street we'd just traveled, we were in complete darkness except for the window lights coming from the homes along the way. I let myself gaze at these homes with warmly lit windows and imagine happy families inside their homes, sitting at the dinner table. Or maybe they were fighting over the toilet paper being hung on its holder wrong, who knows.
After a bit, as I was gazing at the beautiful homes I noticed a small dimly lit sign on the lower level of one of the high rise residential buildings, actually more like below ground level. Sure enough, we finally found our destination. Easily missed on our first trip down this street. The sign was dimly lit and the windows were totally dark. I convinced DeWayne that yes, we really did need to go up and at least look in the windows. As we opened the gate and walked toward the window to peer in, the door suddenly opened and the owner of the restaurant appeared. She spoke pretty decent English, and told us that she was just now opening up for the evening and we would need reservations. We explained that our American friend had recommended the Stadl. And she suddenly had a change of heart, saying "Come on in."
We entered the door and descended a few steps down into a room that was in the building's cellar with a quite low rough beamed ceiling. The entire restaurant had two small rooms, one that would hold about 15 people, and then a larger back room for a group of 35.
Being the first diners, we sat at a table in the small room and looked over the German menu. Luckily it had English sub-titles. Topfenpalatschinken. Yes, that was one of the words on the menu that definitely required English subtitle. Delicious dessert!! Schnitzel was good, too.
As we waited for our food to be served the diners with reservations started pouring into the tiny restaurant. One group of four men sat at a table right next to us, ordered beer, pulled out a large notebook and a deck of cards and began playing an intense card game of some sort. No gambling or anything, just a regular game. Could have been Pitch or Pinochle. But apparently they documented the Win/Loss records in the large notebook. It was a big deal, people. SERIOUS business from the looks on their faces. One of the 4 was in charge of writing in the book after every game was completed. I'm not sure they ever ordered food.
The little Stadl became a lively little place and we enjoyed observing the local folks in their natural habitat. After our meal we ventured back out onto the snowy sidewalks in the dark and made our way back to the hotel. No broken hips, no slipping and sliding.
And I'm more than okay with the snowy forecast for this week. Bring it. I can stay in my warm home and enjoy the view if I so choose. And maybe, just maybe, a new friend will appear behind our fence.
Being the first diners, we sat at a table in the small room and looked over the German menu. Luckily it had English sub-titles. Topfenpalatschinken. Yes, that was one of the words on the menu that definitely required English subtitle. Delicious dessert!! Schnitzel was good, too.
As we waited for our food to be served the diners with reservations started pouring into the tiny restaurant. One group of four men sat at a table right next to us, ordered beer, pulled out a large notebook and a deck of cards and began playing an intense card game of some sort. No gambling or anything, just a regular game. Could have been Pitch or Pinochle. But apparently they documented the Win/Loss records in the large notebook. It was a big deal, people. SERIOUS business from the looks on their faces. One of the 4 was in charge of writing in the book after every game was completed. I'm not sure they ever ordered food.
The little Stadl became a lively little place and we enjoyed observing the local folks in their natural habitat. After our meal we ventured back out onto the snowy sidewalks in the dark and made our way back to the hotel. No broken hips, no slipping and sliding.
And I'm more than okay with the snowy forecast for this week. Bring it. I can stay in my warm home and enjoy the view if I so choose. And maybe, just maybe, a new friend will appear behind our fence.
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