As I was getting on the U5 train to work this morning, I noticed a shopping bag a woman was carrying. It said Aruci Italienische Damenschue, Herrenschue. Putting schue and schue together, I realized it was from an Italian shoe store and quickly jotted down the name and address. Italian shoes? Yes, please.

I am loving watching all the well-dressed German businessmen and women on their way to work in the morning. The flip flops and tank tops I wore to work in California seem so far removed from the skinny suits and polished heels that is the fashion here. Note to self: must purchase cute city trench coat…to go with those Italian shoes.

Reading Resistance on the train, it’s hard not to feel like I’m in my own little fiction novel here. I catch myself staring out the windows at work to the rolling green hills of the countryside. I ask my co-worker about the fresh-cut peonies on her desk (trying to say, and butchering, Pfingstrose) and she says they’re from her garden, along with the roses. On the train ride home, I mention my book–about an American pilot who crashes in Belgium–to my friend. She comments how it sounds like my life; I have landed here.

I took the train one stop farther today to pick up some groceries for dinner. As I crossed the street, I noticed a shoe store. It was the same store from the bag I had taken note of in the morning.

Meine Kueche:

White Gold!!

http://www.dw.de/germans-go-crazy-for-white-asparagus/a-15043449