Sunday (again)

Yesterday saw us on another Sunday expedition: this time after a highly reviving won-ton soup at the home of one of DH's Infotech Central mates. The coriander and other spices were pure joy to the Hausfrau's taste-buds.

After toasting to his new apartment (which smelled delightful in comparison to ours, let me tell you), we all went for a walk up to the base of the Felsenegg 'little mountain', which is part of the Uetliberg range of hills. There, we caught a cable car, which had been much anticipated by DS.

[The previous night, while tucking him into bed: 'But Mum, where are the doors on the cable car? And do they go vvvvt like this, or is it like a bus?']

We happened to choose a hazy day which, as haze sometimes does, made me wonder if I should be feeling nostalgic for something.

Needless to say, the air at the top was so fresh it almost hurt (or maybe that's because it really is starting to get cold), and the kids were leaping about like fawns - especially when we discovered more children swarming all over a playground built in an old ruin.

We were also interested to find a restaurant at the top which served fondue - something which I just recently discovered is much anticipated because it is only eaten in winter.


PS. Turns out Felsenegg is just over 800m above sea-level: not much different from Black Mountain, in Canberra. (Witness the advantages of spending time with Infotech Central chaps who seem to be bottomless pits of information.) But because you start going up at about 400m above sea-level instead of the 600-odd of Canberra, it seems very high and Alpine. Plus the drop is very steep, and feels like the side of the mountain has been blown away leaving Lake Zürich at the bottom of a big bowl of dolls' houses.

Luck be a Hausfrau

I feel compelled to put this in because, as some of you may already know, I have a knack with four-leafed clovers. True! I often just look down and there they are.

This skill isn't uncommon, by the way. I know two other people who do this. So don't worry, I'm not having delusions of grandeur, or delusions of Luckiness.

And just to prove that today wasn't any luckier than any other day, I will go for the dot-point summary:

• Kids wouldn't eat breakfast and fought over Lego. (Lose.)
  
• Walked down The Hill to the post office where I managed to fax the proof that we'd registered ourselves in this town to the Relocation office who are dealing with our sea-freight delivery. (Win.)
• Went to supermarket where kids fought loudly over who got to carry what. (Lose.)
• Bought bread and other stuff I needed, including Desperate Hausfrau frozen lasagne. (Win.)
• Forgot the onions. (Lose.)
• Skyped with a friend who made me laugh my head off. (Win.)
• Made Desperate Hausfrau lasagne which looked like vomit and tasted not much better. (Lose.)
• Got a few jobs around the house done and decided to go on an outing, to relive the Card-game In The Cafe scenario because the kids loved it so much last time. (Win.)
• Kids fought all the way over the scooter (DH had taken the other one to work). And was given advice on the train from a totally poker-faced local about parenting. (Lose.)

• Me: (To screeching children who both want the same seat.) Shhhh! Kids! Shhhhh!
• Lecturing Local: Swiss-German stuff.
• Me: Shhh! Sit down please!
• LL: Swiss-German stuff.
• Me: Right! Follow me! (Exit train carriage Stage Left to stand in the 'lobby' of the carriage with children in tow.)
  
• Lecturing Local (following me): There is plenty of room for you all to sit.
• Me: Thankyou, it's alright.
  
• LL: Really, you should not parent like this.
• Me: I see.
  
• LL: I know this is how you feel, but it's not the way.
• Me: I'm sorry. They were being a little too loud.
• LL: No. They should listen to you. Not to the people in the train, not to anyone else. They should listen to you. (Thumps his chest.) Have you ever read Daniel Stern?
• Me: Um, no. (Thinks: Is this really happening?)
  
• LL: You should read it. It will help you.
• Me: Thankyou.
• LL: Stern! (Steps off train.)
  
• A moment of panic as I think: 'Please let this not be my stop so I don't have to follow this man... Is it or isn't it? Crikey! Where's the sign? What if I end up in the wrong place? Where am I? What am I doing here anyway? At least my children have stopped arguing...' etc. Kids are looking at me in shock.)
  
• DD: Mum, was that good or bad?
  

• At cafe, had a cup of tea. (Win.)
• DS, in taking off his jumper, sent hot tea into the air and onto one of my legs. (Lose.)
• Had a fun game of something we invented because even though I had my dictionary with me, I still couldn't decipher the rules of Schwarzer Peter. (Win.)
• DD, in inspecting her cup, poured dregs of hot chocolate over the other one of my legs. (Lose, but actually by this time it was all starting to become kind of farcical, and I began laughing hysterically.) (Win.)
• Made it home in one piece, and found a 4-leafed clover along the way.
  

By popular demand: The Flour Sifter

It arrived in a package from DM. She'd observed my distress at having neglected to put it in the air freight.

Me: But Mum, what am I going to do?! It doesn't fit in my backpack!

[Thinks: Maybe I could cram it in one of the kids' hand-luggage in between the fourteen soft toys and eight packets of textas and twenty-three bits of technicoloured, unidentifiable land-fill.]

DM: Is it a very special one?
Me: Oh yes. It's the best flour sifter in the whole wide world.
DM: Well, I'll just have to post it to you.

Imagine the Hausfrau's joy!

From here on, it's nothing but no-mess, one-handed, slick and efficient sifting for me. (Just as soon as I get a bowl and muffin tins and all that gaff.)

Read my... public notice

DD and I got the giggles about this public notice on the trams, as I'm sure everyone does when they first arrive here.

(At first we thought he was sitting on a pillow, and then we thought he might have been an angel with wings coming out of his rear end.)

About a Chef who is secretly a Space Cadet

I just have to mention that after a long day of scrubbing and airing out the house, and feeling stinky and friendless, I put on some very average dinner (in the old baking tray), fed the kids, got them into bed...

DH got home after a late meeting at Infotech Central and asked how my day was.

Me: I need a huge thing of chocolate.
DH: Hmm. If the shops were open I'd get you some.
Me: What did you have for lunch?
DH: Um... Sushi. And roast ostrich. And banana curry sauce on the side.

This is not a joke! They actually had this on the menu!

A few clues that it's Autumn

Another Sunday

The air was very fresh outside (!) today when we went for an outing to nearby Thalwil.

Next to the railway station we discovered a slightly freaky but rather Swiss-looking kids' roundabout thingy.

We spent a bit of time on the bridge above the railway watching trains, which continue to be a source of much excitement and anticipation, for DS especially.


A couple of weeks ago we bought scooters, and the kids scooted happily across the bridge while we did a bit of trainspotting.

Then we went to (believe it or not) Starbucks, where we played cards - Sleeping Queens, which is the kids' favourite card game at the moment. It was great fun, and it seems it was not such an original idea, as there was a stack of German card games for kids in a box next to the straws and napkins.