The German Jaunt

Gentle Readers, I don't know if I've ever described the house, yet, but in case I haven't, I figure this is the time.

Location: As they say in real estate, location is everything. Yeah, you can have a huge house, with all the bells and whistles, but if it's in the middle of Montana, with no neighbors, very VERY few people are going to want to buy it. Our location isn't ideal. I didn't realize how far I was going to be living outside of the city. The city, of course, being Frankfurt. Frankfurt is a great and fabulous city. Lots to see, lots of people, and very international due to its Stock Exchange and numerous Banks. It's basically like Germany's New York City.

Where we live is in the countryside. It is charming and quaint, but not a city by any stretch. The town (which, by the way, is a conglomeration of 5 towns) has 15,000 people. that's it!! Thankfully I live by the main street, so there is the constant noise of cars. If not for that, I'd feel isolated and stranded. There are fields between the towns, and each has its own church (Catholic, y'all). It is very picturesque, and very different from what I'm used to. The other bigger cities are Gelnhausen and Hanau. These two can be accessed by train, but they are not as big as Frankfurt. They still have civilization in the form of McDonald's and H&M. Yes, capitalism is my determination of civilization. :)

The House itself: The house itself has a longish history. My room was built in the 1800's and was storage, and possibly part of a bank or the money part of the store. Like the bakery across the street, our house doesn't look like a typical German house, it looks like a store with the apartment above. Because the house (esp. my room) is so old, it is not well built. My southern wall is transparent on the second story, my ceiling caves a little too precariously for my taste, and my northern wall (the one that is inside the house) is made of straw and mud. Literally.

I have a window facing eastward and a space heater to keep me warm. I guess there used to be holes in the wall beneath the window, making the room an ice box. Thankfully, though, that was fixed before I moved in. The walls are white, I have a twin bed, laminate wood floors, and a little folding screen. I also have a brown leather couch. My room is quite nice, and when not being invaded by the kids, quite private as well.

I have two doors: one to the bathroom, the other to the entryway. My door to the bathroom has a lock on my side, which is important, because the bathroom door to the rest of the house, has a look on the inside. So if the kids take it into their heads to lock the bathroom door and not come out (as invariably happens on Saturday mornings!) they come into my room, asking for me to open my door. Ha! Not a chance. I tell them to tell their mom. and Ugh. go back to sleep.

My door to the entryway is usually how I go in and out. Right by the front door, the staircase upstairs, and the door to the living room, it is kind of a central location. The entryway is typically freezing, but I'll get to that in a minute. The living room is nice, with a TV that only plays tapes and videos (here is when I miss the TV at my Italian host parents house- hundreds of channels, subtitles, English and Italian, soccer games, Happy Days, the news; the list goes on....), laminate wood floors, a couch (now broken), a secretaire, a table for the kids to draw on, a piano, and bookshelves. Oh! And I forgot, a stove. Wood-fired stove. Except no one is making pizza. Here I have to put wood in to keep the fire going to heat the house. Yes, aside from space heaters, the entire house is heated by one ceramic stove. I feel like I just dropped into the 1870's and could says "Wazzup?" to Laura Ingalls Wilder. No, but really.

So yes, the house has no central heating. "But what?" you say "How can they live through a German winter without heating?" Through layers of clothing and getting sick a lot. It was halfway miserable. But that is about to change, my readers! Because as of the last two weeks, the heating guy has been here and installed heaters in the living room, kitchen, bedroom, upstairs, and will eventually do the bathroom and my room as well. Hallelujah!

The kitchen is narrow. She'd like to knock out a wall and make it one big room, living room and kitchen combined. This kind of reminds me of the kitchen at my house, which used to have a pass-through, until my parents decided that a doorway would be better. That was a stroke of interior design genius on my parents' part. So would knocking this wall out. Cuz the kitchen is cramped. I never realized why American homes have such a high standard for large kitchens, particularly ones with islands, but now I know: cramped kitchens suck. They really do. So if you can at all afford a nice, large one- you'd better take it. Unlike large bathrooms- who really needs a HUGGGE bathroom?- you actually work in the kitchen. If not everyday, then at least on holidays. Which means you have all your relatives in with you trying to prepare the meal. Ick.

The kitchen is actually one of the most modern rooms in the house though, it has an induction stove and oven, refrigerator, dishwasher, etc. German homes do not have garbage disposals, so i think if I lived here permanently, I'd invest in one!

Then that leads you to the laundry room. This room is also narrow and always full of clothes. With four boys, we do laundry every day. I'm not sure that's the most efficient way, but when it comes to their clothes, I don't question: I just load, wash, load, dry, fold and repeat. It's easier that way.

Then you get back to the bathroom. The bathroom house the water heater, which is smaller than a boogie board. It has a flame, which sometimes goes out. I hope the gas turns off then too, but who really knows? It takes the flame a while to light the whole grid, and then for the water to get warm, so you are generally waiting a couple minutes for warm water. This makes taking a shower a little difficult. Not only is it one of the manual shower heads, like they have in handicapped bathrooms, there is also nowhere to put it. So my showers aren't really showers, but more shower/baths combos, with shower head between my knees when I'm not using it. When I take real showers on the weekends, I always feel like I am on vacation.

About the lock on the bathroom door: I had to request to get that put in. Before it was installed, I was afraid of being walked in on by the boys, whether I was going to the bathroom or taking a shower. Once the lock got put in, I felt much better. But my boss seemed to think this was demanding or snooty from the way she made comments. Like it was "my lock" or "the lock for Ariell".... excuse me. I am a grown woman. Your children are boys. I am not a relative, yes I would like my privacy, just like any other guest who enters the house. It is a courtesy to allow other people their own time in the bathroom, without fear of intrusion. Just because she doesn't mind if they are in there while she does her thing, does not mean I don't mind either. These are not MY children.... thus I'd like my privacy, without your comments please.

This brings us to the situation regards the bedroom and the upstairs. The entryway has a staircase that leads to the upstairs. There has now been insulation stuffed in the holes between the roof and the upstairs floor, but it is still cold up there. The upstairs is currently unlivable. There is no heat (yet!), no wall paper on the walls, the floors need to be sanded, and the railing on the staircase is loose. I can't say when the family will be able to inhabit the upstairs, but for my money, it is not anytime soon.

Which means currently they all have one room. Just one. For the five of them. And one bunk bed. It is a large bunk bed, but still. Two sleep on top, three on the bottom. They all have armoires with their clothes (and toys) in there and it is generally quite the maelstrom. It is quite pitiful to see it, so I hope they get their own beds soon, but as of right now, it's pretty crappy.

And they are cramped. At least I have the privacy of my own room (Thank God!). They don't- not even when they sleep. The fact they only have the living room and bedroom to play in is really sad. I think it made Winter even harder because they couldn't go outside, and they had no room to play inside. They are always on top of each other, there is no space. That is probably the hardest part of their situation.

Half of me sometimes wonders if fixing it up isn't more work than just razing it and starting over. I mean, like I said, the one wall has holes you can look through, and the general condition of the upstairs looks to need major repair. I don't care how safe insulation is now- do you really want fiberglass with your peaceful night's sleep? I don't think so. She (the boss) has big plans for how she wants this house designed. Clearly, she has to go step by step: Rome wasn't built in a day and neither will this remodel be. (yes, I just split an infinitive. I think). Some people have counseled to sell the house "as is." I think this would be a huge mistake- not only has she invested a lot of her time and energy into this house, she has no great alternative- live in an apartment. That would be less space than she has now. And plus, I seriously doubt anyone would buy it now... there's a reason fixer-upper are a drag. You have to put so much time and money into them, it's easier to just buy a new house and remodel down the road once it looks like you're living in a time capsule.

That's the house and the situation... part of it, anyway. ;)

The German Jaunt

Monday, February 21, 2011

The House

Friday, January 28, 2011

Funny Conversations

Thursday, January 20, 2011

Photos: Hanau or "H-Town"