Toothy aspirations

Teeth are sort of a big deal at our house right now. Someone's always losing one or getting a new one. Exhibit A.

Exhibit B.

Exhibit C with a fine new set of choppers.

So now everyone can get in on the action,

of preparing those pearly whites to generate income.

Success! If only the tooth fairy could keep up.

thoughts

I bought this little gem by Zviad Gogolauri at Drybridge Market last fall

Here's something: thoughts about our time in Georgia. When asked how I feel about things I invariably respond that it is fairly easy to live here, although compared to what I'm not sure. It's hard to know, hard to remember how I used to feel because everything about my life here is so completely different from my previous life, and now that life feels like a dream. And since Georgia is not my permanent destination, my present also has a dreamlike quality. I'm always returning to this notion, Life is but a dream.

I wonder if the ups and downs we experience here would be the same no matter where we live, or if they are amplified by our locale? I'm inclined to believe the latter. Sometimes I find myself wondering how I could have ever willfully left behind a life that took so much effort to build and that I loved. (I have an answer, of course, and it has to do with security, but it's not always comforting enough.)

I'm searching for the balance between acknowledging disappointments and keeping my chin up. I fear sounding ungrateful, but I have to admit that sometimes this life we chose is just, hard. The time difference alone is a great divider; the cultural differences and language barriers are not things to be taken lightly; and missing out on living life with our loved ones is an ever present ache.

But since I must end this post on a high note, I'll say that I'm grateful to have lived long enough to understand that life comes in seasons. Whether easy or hard, simple or complicated, happy or aching, all seasons of life pass on and new ones begin. And that's something to keep your chin up.

Snowy days

Seven is swell

Another year means another birthday to celebrate. This was quite a contrast from last year's family-only affair.

Little girls galore.

Making horse-themed wishes.

Our first full-house event.

The impressive cake was provided by our dear family friend. It looked almost too nice to eat.

Somehow we'll manage.

One year

Chichilakis are an ancient Georgian Christmas tradition and are popular across Georgia; they are carved anew each season from straight hazelnut branches. Under Soviet rule, the sale of Chichilakis was banned because the curly beard was reminiscent of St. Basil.

In the days leading up to Christmas the markets are packed with craftsman selling these small, usually tabletop-size trees. Candy is wrapped into the curling fronds for children to enjoy throughout the holiday, and then on January 19 (the Feast of Epiphany) they burn the trees, symbolic of releasing last year's cares.

I was happy to embrace this tradition, not only because they are charming and unique, but also because by January 1st there is no trace of Christmas in my home, by design--I find it unbearably depressing--yet that is the time that the locals start ramping it up. So having a few chichilaki centerpieces (but absolutely nothing else) seemed like a doable compromise. Orthodox Christmas is on January 7.

January 7 also marks one complete year in country. And? We are settled, to be sure. We have built up a decent network of friends and support, we have seen many sites (but only the tip of the iceberg), we keep very busy, and we've even been able to do a little good. But we do miss home. Ever so much.

Vienna finale

We had a frantic encounter on our last evening, running hapless past stately monuments in search of one organ recital. But after a fortunate moment of reckoning, we accepted that our mapless quest was doomed, changed course and instead took advantage of the clear evening to enjoy a few final beautiful moments. One shouldn't fight serendipity.

Traveling with children

It's possible, but maybe not recommended. Although our children did their best to appreciate Mozart, Klimt, and the glorious remnants of the Hapsburg Empire, we also had our fair share of the following commonplace:

 questionable restaurant behavior

untimely potty breaks

unanticipated downtime shenanigans

mandatory portable naptime

frequent stroller disillusionment

German cartoons by popular demand

juvenile photobombing

 zippy souvenir sharing

trains!

woah.

and friendly family integration

Christkindlemarkt

The origin of the Christmas Markets in Austria and Germany date back to the Middle Ages. The markets are usually held in a town square where vendors in cozy booths sell food, drink, and holiday items. They may even feature some traditional song and dance. Several hundred years later, not much has changed; Christmas Markets across Europe are a holiday institution.

"I'll take one of each, thank you."

We enjoyed this market in the shadow of Shoenbrunn Palace.

A feast for the eyes as well as the belly. When shoppers seek refreshment from the charming variety and endless selection, they gather at pavilions which offer all manner of hot holiday fare: fried potatoes and wieners, steaming soup in bread bowls, pretzels, pastries and cakes with fruit compote, and spicey mulled drinks. This is the definition of iconic Christmas, folks. And lucky for us it lasted until January 1.

Our little friends bid us farewell.