Laurel Elisabeth Stevens

Just enjoying the sunshine and the rooftops This is the time when the question becomes common: “So, when are you leaving?” or “Not long now?”  or “Are you still here?” The last one is the worst.  After being in Houston for 2 weeks, back in Hannover for a few days, then on vacation for a week, John got that question more than once at work on Monday. It’s also the time when I think, “Is this the last time I’ll buy laundry detergent here?”   I look in our bathroom cabinet and wonder, “Can I get this exact same kind of Nivea night cream in the U.S. or should I buy it here while I can?” Funny that two years ago I was stocking up on things American so I wouldn’t have to figure out what to buy here.  As if they didn’t have razors, toothpaste and deodorant here.  They do. And really nice bath soaks.  That’s what I want to bring back--but they are liquid and they come in glass bottles.  We’ll see.  John always gets a kick out o...

Elisabeth has been excited about playing piano in the school talent show but I just found out that the auditions are the day we are flying back to the U.S.  I wonder if this news will bring her first tears regarding our move. So far I think the kids are taking it easier than we are.  They don’t think all these big thoughts like, “We thought we’d be here longer” or “What will the transition be like?” or “Will Henry keep his German?  Will any of us keep our German?”  They don’t yet know or anticipate the ache that is left after saying good-bye to dear friends who have not only helped us through a difficult transition, but have brought a dimension to our stay that we never could’ve imagined.  The kids are thinking about the new house, returning to Elisabeth’s piano teacher, homeschooling, VBS at Grace, new gymnastics classes, friends, friends, friends.  I asked Elisabeth what she will be most sad about leaving here, and she said, “Friends!”...

I’ve had two phone calls in the last two days that have utterly bewildered me.  The first was a man speaking German who sounded very friendly--as if we knew each other already.  I understood it was something about our move, but the introduction was so fast that I had no idea why he was calling.  If I could translate the conversation into English, it might have gone something like this (I’m imagining what he probably said, but only based on what I understood later). Caller: Hello, Mrs. Stevens!  This is Schaefer from Spangenberg.  Greetings to your family.  I understand you’re moving. Me: Ah, hello!  Yes? Caller: I’m calling to schedule your household goods survey. Me: Yes? Ah, who are you? Caller: Mr. Schaefer from Spangenberg.   Me: I’m sorry, could you say that again? Caller: This is Mr. Shaefer from Spangenberg.  Your husband works for Baker Hughes and you are moving back, yes?  I’m calling to schedule th...

Bike riding to the store has its limitations By January of last year I felt like I was really quite adjusted to living in Hannover.   On a chilly January day two friends and I met to walk together and then get a few things at the grocery store.  We planned to then take the tram back home.  It was a lovely, brisk walk.  Two Americans and a German who lived in the US for five years have much to talk about.  Soon we were at the store doing our shopping.  In between the produce and the dairy section, I saw my neighbor, Frau K . . K . .. what was her name?  I simply couldn’t remember, although I had seen her a number of times and had chatted with her husband.  She was in her late 70s, a tall woman with excellent posture and silvery white hair.  I got up enough nerve to say, “Guten Tag.”  On earlier occasions when I had talked with my neighbor and her husband, it was her husband who was always the friendly one, with English that he le...

Beethoven in Bonn On Saturday we saw a little bit of Bonn, the former capital of West Germany.  In the morning we visited the Beethoven House    where Beethoven was born in 1770.  We walked around the tiny house for almost two hours, listening to our audio guides.  Our son, Mr. Numbers, made sure he listened to every track on his guide, all 32.  Elisabeth stopped periodically to draw pictures: the organ Beethoven played in a nearby church, two of the pianos he owned.  She said she wanted to go home and write music.  I was moved by the account, in Beethoven’s own words, of his hearing loss and his intense inner struggle.   We heard portions of his 5th and 9th symphonies as he would’ve heard them at the time they were first performed.  It was a barely audible muffled sound. Though Beethoven wanted to take his own life, he felt he could not, because of his burning desire to to the work he had to do, to write the music that was in his...

 Kölner Dom I couldn’t help thinking of this little pun while we were exploring Bonn on Saturday, but it was already one day late.  Actually, I think Germans don’t pronounce Bonn to rhyme exactly with “gone”--the short o vowel is shorter in duration somehow.  These days if I’m not sure how to pronounce something, I ask Henry.  He seems to be a pretty good gauge. Elisabeth didn’t have school on Friday, so we took a 2 1/2 hour train ride to Cologne (Köln in German) and spent the day there.  In truth, we spent most of the day in and around the cathedral. It was everything I wanted it to be, and more.  I had heard from John and several others who had been there that it is great to go to Cologne by train because when you get off the train you are right there at the cathedral.  What they didn’t tell me is that the church dwarfs the train station.  The windows of the station are huge, and allow only a portion of the cathedral to be se...

Last Saturday it was time to take down the tree.  I was ready for it to be gone--the needles were beginning to drop and there were spider webs from the top of the tree to the ceiling.  Maybe those are always there, but this time I could actually see them close up because the tree was nestled against the stairs and the top was clearly visible from the second floor. Three Kings Day . . .Epiphany . . .Heilige Drei Könige had come and gone.   John and I pulled the boxes down from the attic and the kids began removing the ornaments from the tree.  But this time I wanted to pack them more carefully than usual because they would be traveling across the ocean again.  And that made me sad.   I thought of Christmas two years ago when we were still in The Woodlands and oblivious to the upcoming move.  I packed the ornaments up quickly and we shoved them in the back of our “closet of doom”--the one you can’t stand up in and goes way, way back....