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February 7


Homemade bread. So easy and delicious, it made the house smell wonderful all Sunday afternoon.


Homemade bread, grilled and filled with a homemade burger, cheese, tomato, red onion, rocket/arugula, sauteed wild mushrooms and Dijon mustard.

The snow has melted away and left us with milder weather. Friday afternoon Mikey and I caught a bus to a nearby German mall with a friend and got rained on while waiting for the bus home. We bought some goodies including some indigo tights for myself, a colouring book and new toy car for Mikey, a few craft supplies and some groceries to make lovely treats for the weekend.

On Saturday we spent the entire morning at our local animal shelter. We had originally intended to go look at kitties and pick one out to adopt, but sadly they did not have any indoor cats and we don't live in a place where we can have an outdoor cat. So instead we spent the morning looking at bunnies and guinea pigs, petting a gorgeous friendly white cat with a black tail and looking at lovely doggies that liked to bark and run around in circles. Mikey liked them all very much and was upset when we had to leave.


On Sunday afternoon while waiting for the bread, Mikey and I strung pasta on string and then painted it to make a necklace. He really enjoyed the simple task of stringing the pasta and also making lots of mess with the paint.

On Monday if the weather is still mild I think Mikey and I will go for a walk around the allotments to see if we can spot any greenery and to wave at the trains from the bridge.





How was your weekend?

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I am a 24 year old British stay at home mother to a two year old boy. Married to a U.S. soldier and currently living in Germany.

I have seen the Vatican from the very top of St Peter's Basilica, the mud in the World War I trenches outside Ypres. I have walked through Montmartre side streets bustling with people in the evening, gotten lost in the streets of Greenwich Village NYC, run through cornfields on the Welsh border and sat outside with a cup of tea watching fireflies in the fields of the outer Chicago suburbs.

I have held the hands of others through addiction, fear, suicide, despair and come out the other side. I have left everything behind to begin anew.
I have fought mental illness and walked through snow in the mountains of the lake district, England. I have explored the morgue in the bowels of an abandoned hospital on a summer evening, climbed to the top of scaffolding on the outside of a five floor warehouse to look at the city lights of Nottingham at night and I have watched the sun setting on the Texas horizon.

I have held my son's tiny hand through the plastic window on an isolette in the NICU ward. Walked, speaking only in whispers, through the catacombs beneath the ground on the outskirts of Rome and seen the fireworks over Heidelberg castle.

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