Nun Bowling

This little gem came in the mail the other day compliments of Scott and Aimee Durbinson.

Funny how stacking up tiny nuns and rolling a flaming fireball at them can remedy any injustices felt from attending 9 years of Catholic grade school. 

Nun down.

He said, she said: parents from another brother share thoughts on Deutschland

In the early morning hours of Saturday, May 14, the buddymollys took the train to Munich for a parent-sitting excursion with Mark and Wendy Trivisonno. For the record: we weren’t given their flight information – only the time they were flying in and an artist’s pen-and-ink rendition of each. Locating them, however, was a piece of "Kuchen."

After a few hours of wandering, a brief and mostly accurate history lesson, copious amounts of beer and a stroll through the English garden, we escorted them to their hotel, where they were soon rescued by their son Todd “Tad” Trivisonno, (Tivisonno if you’re nasty). 

 

During their weeklong Euro tour, we were lucky enough to enjoy their company on numerous occasions. Now safely at home in Kentucky (which we learned is home to such towns as Red Hot, Lickskillet and Monkey's Eyebrow – really!) guest bloggers Mark and Wendy share their perspectives on their trip to Deutschland.

Mark: I’m not one who just decided to head to Europe without feeling a little intimidated. When we touched down in Munich, however, the first soothing words I heard were Molly and Jeremy calling our names at the arrival gate.

From that moment, through all the amazing countryside visits, historic castles and everyday life of Germany, we felt the love, kindness and compassion of Jeremy, Molly, Jeff and Todd – Germany was just a wonderful backdrop. Thank you doesn’t say what I feel. I’m truly blessed and feel so much love for our hosts and hostess. Prost!

Wendy: When the buddymollys asked us to be guest writers on the blog, I thought “no!” yet said nothing. What would I write about? The beauty of the Germany countryside or the historic churches and castles; getting to know the people in Todd’s life right now; or would I want to teach people of gartens, glockenspiels and Mai Baums?

As I prepared to leave, I realized I was most touched by the people of Germany, putting their heart and soul, time and treasure into God. It reminded me of why we are here … I’m so thankful for the experiences and the folks we spent the week with.

We enjoyed Mark and Wendy's stay as much as they enjoyed the Bavarian hospitality and are currently launching our parent-sitting business, which could prove to be a rewarding and lucrative career path. Now accepting applications for the fall of 2011. Inquire within.

Into the Wildgehege

It’s beginning to feel a lot like summer here in Deutschland, relatively speaking (at the very least, I haven’t worn a coat in a few days and the sun is shining …) so Jeremy and I took a daytrip to the wildgehege (which translates to game reserve) in the Veldensteiner Forst.

Located near the town of Plech, the wildgehege is a 38-acre wildlife park with wild boars, pigs, sheep and red, fallow and roe deer. The 1.5 km trail lets you walk amongst the tamest of deer as they eat corn or bread out of your hands – then follow you begging for more.

Other animals, including the Wildschwein (wild pigs) are safely in pens, challenging passersby to staring contests. (For the record, the little guy in the photo won).

Although zoos are also common in Germany, the relaxed atmosphere of the wildgehege allows a more intimate outing with deer friends, although some were a total boar. ba-dum-ba. 

When dolphins ... attach

Although it has been nearly a month since we returned from Hawaii, our experiences during that two-week period have been lingering. One of the experiences, the last day we were there, was especially … well, special.

Our old friends, Matt and Aliza, introduced us to some new friends, a family of bottlenose dolphins (BJ, Boris and Ho'olono, the momma, papa and son, respectively) and a false killer whale, Kina.

The animals live in an outpost on Coconut Island (history buffs will note Gilligan’s Island was filmed there), and the University of Hawaii has been conducting research on these animals, along with everything from local fish to aquatic plants. Besides a very small patch of beach, you can't even visit the island without a "resident" scientist, and apparently soft science doesn't count. 

Thanks to Aliza, we had our own private tour and were able to interact, feed and even play some games with our new friends. 

However, like the rest of our trip, time crept up on us and we had to leave. So we threw BJ one more alley-oop, slapped a few flippers and headed to the airport. The entire trip was a refreshing blend of old and new and now that our ohana includes a new species, we'll have another place to crash the next time we visit.

Life's a beach: Hiking the Kalalau Trail

When I first moved to Hawaii, I was told many legends of the islands. One being, if the island liked you, accepted you, it would grant you many pleasures and persuade you to stay – if she didn’t, you would spend all your days figuring out a way to leave her.

I was lucky enough to be accepted and nothing but goodness came my way. In three years I lived on Oahu, I feel I really grew up, found myself, discovered who I wanted to be and experienced life with fresh and open eyes. I lived on a boat, learned to surf, hiked the tallest mountains, swam the roughest waters, found my new bff and married him, strengthened my journalism career, learned my first stringed instrument, made lasting friendships and walked each day barefoot with a smile on my face.

The islands have always been good to us, and even though we left them two years ago, they welcomed us back with open arms. 

As Jeremy mentioned in the previous blog, we juggled our time on Oahu with friends, family and surf. Our four-day escape to the island of Kauai, however, we convened with only nature (and a few hippies) and paid our respects the islands that have treated us so well over time.

The video below will give you an insight into the beauty that exists on the famous Na Pali Coast as we hike the Kalalau Trail. 

One fond embrace

It’s been two days since we returned from Hawai'i and we’re both still shaking off a terrible case of the jetlag. On the flights home between a slew of B-rated airline movies I found myself removing that characteristic red dirt from my fingernails, which I considered more a sign that I didn’t surf enough than a result of poor personal hygiene.

During those two weeks we balanced our time with the ocean / outdoors and catching up with the friends and ohana we said aloha ‘oe to almost two years ago. Two weeks was obviously not enough.

 We crashed on lanais, conversed with marine mammals, slept under stars and daily reveled in that contentedness you get after having a home-cooked meal followed by good conversation over a few beers. 

One of the books I read on the trip was Steinbeck’s “Travels with Charlie.” In it, Steinbeck travels around the U.S. in an RV (along with his French poodle Charlie) in the ‘60s searching for the essence of what it is to be American.

Throughout his journey, he discovers that each trip has its own personality and that “like a marriage, the certain way to wrong is to think you control (the trip). We find after years of struggle that we do not take a trip; a trip takes us.”

Our trip to O’ahu, which included four days on Kaua’i, definitely took us, but it was probably the best trip we’ve taken to date.

As we walked to our gate to catch our flight I saw a tear running down Molly’s face, but it was as much a tear of joy as it was for sadness that we had to leave. 

And though we’ve been away from our ohana there for nearly two years, like the dirt under my fingernails, there are still parts that will always stay with us.  

Next up: Hiking Kauai’s Kalalau Trail and playing basketball with dolphins.

Another helping of the Alps, bitte.

As the last vestiges of winter were being drowned out by songbirds in Germany, Molly and I strapped on our skis / snowboard for one final winter plunge in Stubai, Austria.

Though we normally travel solo, this time we went with 20 folks from the Bavarian Ski Club and had a blast (The club handles all the booking, provides food, beer, transportation & ski lift passes for even cheaper than we could have found on our own.)

The rolling green hills and pastures near our hotel were a stark contrast to the snow that blanketed the ski area just a few thousand feet up. And though the blue runs were more friendly to us than the Swiss Alps in February, we didn’t leave without our fair share of bumps and bruises.

By comparison, the Swiss Alps knocked us out, but we scored a judges’ decision victory over their kid-sister Austrian counterparts. (Molly even conquered a red run without shedding a single tear.) 

Europeans have a different approach to skiing – everything seems to move at a slower pace. Don’t get me wrong, people and even pint-sized pipsqueaks still whizz past you, spraying snow while you’re recovering from a head-first spill, but after a few runs, most relax for a beer in a lawn chair and soak up the sun.

So we sat back, sipped hot chocolate and worked on our tans at 9,000 feet. It was the perfect transition for our trip home to Honolulu. Hopefully the pre-tan (burn) we got in the Alps was enough to welcome our freckles back for the next two weeks.