Greek "cat"

If you know your Latin roots (or a romance language) (oh, or English), you know why I had a moment of panic in the grocery store recently. I was dubious of finding this sausage in a Western country, but its position in the meat section (see below) and a quick check of the word "felino" in my pocket dictionary made me doubt my sure doubt. 

I inspected the ingredient list of the Salame Felino carefully, though, and there was no sign of feline components. Had I the internet on hand, I would have learned immediately that Felino is a city in Emilia-Romagna near Parma, and saved myself a few moments of concern. (I also would have realized this if they had included a di on the label between Salame and Felino, but perhaps that is too loquacious for the deli section.) Salame di Felino, it turns out, is a soft and delicately-flavored sausage, made of pork, fat, pepper, and a bit of pepper and garlic dissolved in white wine, which is added right before encasing. "Gatticus" and I are feeling much better about this.

"You know what's great about our cat? He doesn't understand sarcastic petting."

Too hot for anything much today.

Vigilia di Natale

Feeling a bit sluggish today on this sunny Christmas Eve.  After growling at Swiss Mr. for turning on the lights, in an animal way that disturbed even myself, I have been drinking coffee and puttering the house with puffy eyes that won't wake up.  Can't seem to get much traction doing anything but aimlessly clicking things on my computer.

Since it is not technically a holiday here, people in our building are moving in, drilling, dragging -- performing basically any noisy activity they can find the resources to make. Somehow this has made me feel more like taking photos of the neighbor moving in across the hall through the peephole (which did not work) and looking out the window than cutting up bread cubes or frying up sausage.  

In case you, too, are feeling more voyeuristic than festive, please view a few shots of our home, made cheery by the thoughtfulness of mothers and friends, Christmas cards, and an expensive pine tree we hope lives until next year.  (We do not claim to compete with Oijoy.)

Hoping Babbo Natale likes catnip cookies.

Amiamo nostro gatto

Savvy readers seem to have realized that Atticus has been conspicuously camera-shy the past few days while "adjusting." (Why doesn't Atticus get a pseudonym, you may ask? That is a good question.) This is not because we left him in Munich or because someone ate him (though Swiss Mr. often contemplates the type of scenario in which this could occur). We love our cat too much for that. In truth, we love our cat more than a sizeable amount of money.

Though a resilient kitty, Atticus has been through a lot in his four years: separation from his sister (still feeling guilty about that), emergency surgery, the unexpected loss of his brother, a long journey as cargo on a United flight, integration into German culture, a new home in Switzerland.... As Mom would say, "he's a trooper!"

all of day two was spent under a blanket on our luxurious air mattress

Though he has recently spent most of his days in the most inaccessible place possible, he comes out for dinner with us and is good for a few pets during the night. Like most kitties, I guess, he likes things on his own terms.

trying to enjoy his new home despite scary windows

La strada per München

The ride to and from Munich through the Alps was predictably lovely and curvaceous. I spent most of the trip looking for goats and changing radio stations, and did not document the trip very throughly. Anyway, between the tunnels and curves, it was difficult to capture the scenery.

Although the switchbacks were a bit slow and tedious, Swiss Mr. made quick work of the highways, enjoying the combination of the Autobahn and a nice 6-gear VW. The 4.5 hour trip took us through four different countries, right past Heididorf and Skyline Park, and through several deserted border inspection booths. Border security was rather nonexistent when we passed through, so we weren't able to triumphantly produce Atticus's EU passport as we'd envisioned. Still, we are grateful that there were no problems and that Atticus is now safely in his Swiss home. (He's currently still adjusting, so kitty pictures will have to come later. ) We are also grateful Atticus had such great company while living in the big city (though, sadly, he still hasn't stopped looking around for his buddy Bowser).


More on Munich when I locate the rest of our photos!

Feliney report

We received a vicious holographic postcard in the mail last week.


Tomorrow we leave for Bavaria to take revenge.

(The identity of the senders has been protected only to ensure that vengeance will be ours, and ours alone.)