Photo Challenge

Day 6

Photo Challenge

Day 5

Photo Challenge

Day 4

Almost didn't need to bother with converting it to black and white.

Photo Challenge

Day 3

Photo Challenge

Day two.

Photo Challenge

I was recently asked to participate in a photo challenge. 

Seven days, seven black and white photos of your daily life.  No explanation, no people.  I thought I would post them here.  It's actually a Facebook challenge.  However, I have a few people in my life who don't have Facebook accounts (insert audible gasp here).  


Day One.

We're off to the Races

It has been almost a year since my last post.  I'm sure that all 9 of my followers have been sitting on pins and needles waiting to discover what I've been up to.  

Summer has FINALLY arrived in Schaffhausen.  The boys have 3 days left of school and then we are free to sleep in and do absolutely nothing if we want to.  We are all tired.  This morning Adrian handed me 5 tests that needed my signature.  Who knows how long he's been hoarding them in his backpack.  And today as I dropped off Ryan I asked him if there was anything special going on today that I had forgotten.  None of us has the energy to remember what we're supposed to be doing at this point.  

School may be coming to a close, but David's race season is in full swing.  He has been participating in off-road triathlons.  This means the bike portion of the race is done with a mountain bike on single tracks, off-road.  AKA - more dirt and mud.  He has done exceptionally well having never done it before.  Last Saturday was Xterra France.  It has been a while since we've been to France.  I'd forgotten about a few things, like the bathrooms.  A toilet in France can be a hole in the ground.  That's it.  Sometimes they get fancy and add a little bit of porcelain around the hole.  But that's it.  Just a hole.  Imagine 5-6 toilet holes for over 500 racers and their friends and families and the mud that joined us.  It was pretty disgusting.  Even the French turned their noses up.  After I got over that little culture shock I was reminded that I don't speak a lick of French and my translator was off on a race course somewhere.   It's a good thing this is not our first rodeo, so to speak, and most triathlons are run the same.  So we had that.  One thing I will give the French credit for is they know how to cheer.  There is a fun, party atmosphere that is lacking with our dear Swiss-German friends.    

Here we are waiting at the car for the start of the race.

After the swim we headed over to the transition area to cheer some more.

   

Finished!

 

And that's that.  We hopped back into the car (after David had to take a shower in the lake because, surprise! no showers for the racers.  I don't know why we were surprised) drove 2.5 hours and made it home safe and sound.  

Table Make Over

My kitchen table isn't very old.  It's been with us for at least 10 years.  It's got all kinds of "love" marks all over it.  Especially on the end where both of my boys have sat and learned to eat.  There are perfectly spaced fork gouges, nicks and scratches on the table top.  It's been lovingly antiqued over the years.  It's dark brown and I was tired of it, but didn't feel like shelling out the money for a new one.  This one is working just fine.  I just couldn't justify the expense.  So I got it into my head that I was going to paint it.

I did the only logical thing to do and went to Pinterest and typed "table make overs".  All kinds of things popped up.  All kinds of work I didn't want to do also cropped up - sanding, staining, base coats, top coats, glossing.  I was especially keen on avoiding the whole sanding bit.  I've got 6 chairs, and I did NOT want to spend all of my time sanding those things.  Enter - chalk paint. I'd seen it on several blog posts and read about people who did various projects with it.  I really had no idea what it was so I googled that too.  Turns out it's not that easy to find.  Anne Sloan chalk paint (a pretty famous brand) is only sold in independent shops to promote small businesses, which means for Switzerland it's nearly impossible to locate.  But I did.  I found it at some small boutique near Interlaken.  Thank goodness she ships, because my table make over would have turned quite pricey otherwise.  And the one major selling point is that you are supposed to be able to slap it on any project with very little prep work, which means no sanding.  
I was sold.

Here are all my supplies.  

I started with a chair.  

I really liked the results.  Off I went to paint 5 more chairs and the table.  It was a lot of work and for a while we had a half painted table.  I would paint one chair at a time, wait for it to dry and then rotate it around until all chairs were finished.  But now it's done and I'm pretty excited about it.

Isn't it pretty?

I've retired my DIY skills for a little while.  This was a big project and I think it will be my last for quite some time.  A friend of mine came over the other day and said she felt like she should eat Mexican food on top of it.  Sounds good to me.  Now if my jalapeño plants (teaser for next blog post)  will just get a move on it, we can do just that.  

Pickles

I've learned to live without decent dill pickles.  They just don't exist here.  They have jars that wear labels that say dill on the front, but it's pretty much false advertising.  They have dill plant floating around inside and that some how qualifies it to be deemed a dill pickle.  But friends, they are not really that great or very dill, to say the least.  So I did what any girl would do.  I tried to make my own.  

I looked up a recipe, rolled up my sleeves and went to work.  

I found some decent looking cucumbers.

Then I discovered that the dill flavor actually comes from dill seed and not dill plant.  When I went to the spices row in the grocery store I could not find any dill seed.  I could only find dried dill plant.  I stood there for a little bit trying to decide what to do.  I turned myself around and marched right into the nursery and picked up a packet of dill seed.  

Ta Da!

I could already taste the dill pickles.  

Next, I chopped up my cucumber, threw in the spices and then shoved those pickle slices right into the jar.

The recipe I found used apple cider vinegar.  Seemed good to me.  I put all the ingredients together (all whopping 3 of them) and made the brine.

Next you poor the brine over your pre-pickles and voila!  Put the lid on, put it in the fridge and wait a couple days.  And that's what I did.

My first batch was alright.  They were definitely dill, but the apple cider was so strong I wasn't a fan.

So I made them again, but this time with regular old white vinegar.  

Here is a video of me sampling my pickles after the 48 hour wait.  And for those of you who catch the Andy Griffith show reference, you get a gold star.

Alright, here's my thought.  They weren't great.  I'll admit it.  They weren't terrible either, but just not the dill pickle I was hoping for.  Looks like it's back to the drawing board.  

Spain

It's true.  We went to Spain and it was pretty fun.  The boys had two weeks of spring break. So for one of those weeks we packed up the car and headed 10 hours south.  We stayed in a town called Mataro, about a 40 minute train ride from Barcelona.  Mataro is not a tourist town.  And in fact, I'm pretty sure we were the only tourists roaming the streets. 

They have a historical town center with a very pretty cathedral.  

Here is David sitting with the boys at one of the side chapels giving a little Bible lesson.

After David's explanation of the cross, Ryan was a little concerned about Jesus.  I assured him that He didn't stay there and not to worry, He rose again on the third day and lives again.  He was relieved to hear the news.   (Although it made me wonder if the kid has been listening in Sunday school, since Easter wasn't that long ago.)

Later in the day we headed to the beach.  Never in my life would I have imagined sitting at the edge of the Mediterranean, but here I was.  And let me just say, THE WATER WAS FREEZING!!  That didn't stop the boys in my life and all three of them jumped right in.

"Look at my tiny sea shell mom."

Off to Barcelona we traveled and our first stop was to the home of FC Barcelona, and the largest soccer stadium in the world.

It can hold 100,000 people and I must say, it's pretty impressive.  

You get to see the stadium and visit the club museum. They also have basketball teams and handball teams. I think there were a couple more sports, but I can't remember.

Club motto,  "More than a Club."

Adrian having his picture taken in front of the famous Lionel Messi.  

This boy couldn't be any happier.

How could we forget Neymar?  

Here is David reliving his handball years and checking out the jersey of one if his favorite handball players.

Like I said, basketball also made an appearance in the museum.  Here you can see the progression of jerseys.  This poor display was in the corner over next to the ladies restroom.  

We were able to walk out to the the field through the same tunnel the players run out of.  Off to the right, just as you exit into the stadium you can find a small chapel for the athletes.  I suppose if you needed one last plead for strength and a win here's where you could do it.

I don't remember what this is, some place we weren't aloud to go, so I figure it's an entrance to players locker room or something.

On our way to the press room.

In the pressroom.

On the field.

The boys in the press box.  Pretty fancy.

After the stadium we were pretty tuckered out.   By that time I was also all pictured out and didn't take the camera out much.  I could kick myself now.  Oh yeah, it was raining, that's why the camera stayed tucked away.

We wondered our way down town to the port, and the cathedral and then down La Rambla.  La Rambla is a market street lined with tourists and shops.

Ryan near the port.

Interestingly enough, we entered the church at the same time an American school was touring and giving a concert.  It was a nice reason to sit down and have a rest.  Some of us were a little tired.  

On a another day we visited a place called Monserrat. Monserrat is a mountain range that actually means serrated, like a knife, and is home to the Benedictine abbey Santa Maria de Montserrat.

Is it also the home to the Virgin of Montserrat and people stand in extremely long lines to be able to go up to her and touch her.  We didn't stand in line.  My child would be the one to knock her over...Also I didn't feel the need to touch her.

Some where I also read that there is a myth that this is the location of the Holy Grail.  

We went into the church and after some time this priest, or monk, I'm not sure which he was, came out and and spoke.

He was then followed by the boys choir...a surprise we had not anticipated.  What a treat!

So I leave you with a little taste of what we heard and if you ever get a chance to travel to this area of Spain it is worth the journey.