As the Sportferien (three amazing weeks of the 'sports holiday', including more magic in Chateau-d'Oex) draws to a close, Spring has already made itself 
known: as we walked down The Hill on the weekend the kids and I gawped, almost speechless, at a passing elderly woman who carried in her arms a sheaf of almost fluorescing, lemon wattle. DD looked at me in absolute incredulity, as if to say, 'Are you seeing what I'm seeing? Wattle? In Switzerland?!'
When we later spotted snowdrops and other bulbs pushing through the gritty remnants of snow DS, with his world-weary voice on, remarked: 'Yes, I know those. They grow in Canberra too.'
True enough, though I wonder if in Canberra right now there are trombone-wielding carnival-goers dangling cervelat sausages off balconies into cobblestone seas of 
confetti-speckled, clamouring and costumed children? Maybe not. This particular variation on the Fasnacht theme is something which is peculiar to Horgen, so my local pals tell me.
As we trooped down The Hill (yet again) today the rain started to bucket, but 
the gaggle of kids didn't seem to care, and neither did the crowd leaping to catch bread-rolls and cervelats. I saw several sausages bounce off unsuspecting heads and sad little bread-rolls getting wetter and grubbier underfoot before we finally retired to the local Migros cafeteria to recover.
Now that I find colourful confetti in underpants and shoes and hair and corners of rooms I recall this happening last 
year, though it didn't quite make it into the Hausfrau's blogosphere. But it seems confetti-throwing is a serious Fasnacht sport. In the larger parades - we saw the one in Zürich last year - the kids, being in the front row of onlookers - were bombarded with industrial-strength quantities of lollies and confetti, while a friend had a confetti-blower honked down her pants and up her shirt. Nothing is sacred.
And so tomorrow it'll be business as usual as the kids go back to school and we start the familiar roll-call of choir and swimming 
and soccer, as well as German classes for the Hausfrau. It's time to think about enrolling in activities for the new school year because yes, we are in Switzerland, and everyone is six months ahead of themselves.
I should just mention at this point that things in 2009 are in good shape for 
the Hausfrau: not only was she recently invited to the birthday party of a local Swiss friend, but she managed to play a full round of poker in Swiss-German.But I guess you really know you've made it as a Hausfrau when you receive an invitation to a Swiss Tupperware party...
What is there left to say?
Vive la Hausfrau!
