Föhn

We are currently enjoying a weather phenomenon in Steinebach called Föhn. Föhn is a warm wind on the leeward side of a mountain. It results from moist air passing over the mountain and dropping most of its moisture on the windward side. In southern Bavaria, Föhn is when air coming northward from Italy dumps rain (or snow) on the southern side of the Alps; as the air continues northward, its tempature rises due to adiabatic changes in pressure.

As a consequence of today's Föhn, we had an amazing view of the Alps from the front yard. The highest peak in the photo to the left is the Zugspitze. We are very proud of the Zugspitze in Bavaria, because it is not only the highest mountain in Bavaria, it is also the highest mountain in all of Germany. A little to the left of the middle of the photograph, on the hill in front of the Zugspitze, is the Kloster and brewery Andechs, another source of Bavarian pride.

Today, Föhn also meant that after 20 years of visiting Munich, I finally saw the Alps from the top of the Alter Peter church tower. The Alps didn't look any closer from there than from Steinebach, so I'm willing to bet that a little technological enhancement is behind many of the postcards of Munich that show glorious Alps rising immediately behind assorted landmarks.

Speaking of technological enhancement, this afternoon we ate lunch at a fashionable Munich pizza place frequented by the Schicki-micki crowd. Of particular interest were the Botox-and-altered-lips subset. It was really, really difficult not to gawk.

Shoes

We bought Elias a new pair of soccer cleats this evening, in anticipation of a Fußball camp he'll be starting on Wednesday. The box says: "Average contents: 2." I guess that means that for every two boxes containing six shoes, there are four boxes containing only tissue paper.

Those of you who know me well know that I pretty much detest going clothes and shoe shopping. I have my summer uniform (sleeveless T and jeans or shorts) and my winter uniform (mock turtle neck and jeans), and those serve me quite well for ten months out of the year. Thanks to therapy, coaching, and the generosity of others, I have come to terms with replenishing my uniforms at low-key "clothes swaps" hosted by my friend Tamsin, which have almost single-handedly kept me clothed and shoed for the past five years.

A confluence of limited suitcase space, fashion incompetence, and a recent drop in temperatures in Freiburg led me to realize that the only pair of non-denim long pants I have here are black, and the dressiest shoes I brought are light green Teva sandals. Given the choice between buying a pair of black shoes or a pair of light green pants, I went for the shoes--two of them, one for each foot, and heels, no less, but sensible ones. As someone's grandmother somewhere must have said sometime, "A woman deserves a new pair of heels at least once every thirty years," and now I've got mine.

I walked a mere half mile in my new shoes and grew and blew out several impressive blisters. This is one of the many reasons I don't like women's dress shoes. (Yo, men, please leave a comment if formal footwear has ever shredded your feet.)

My sensible mother says that's why women are supposed to carry stylish bags. Apparently, you're supposed to carry your dress shoes in the bag while you wear your comfortable shoes for walking. You trade the walking shoes for the uncomfortable shoes before you greet the queen, then switch back when you walk home. Frankly, this seems like a lot more work than it's worth, and I hope the queen will understand if I use a backpack instead (other suggestions appreciated).