Weekend Hello from Zurich
TGIF! It was a short week and blessedly fast. After the tremendous weekend last week, it looks like we are back in the wet mess that Europeans call spring. Goes with the territory. When I get sick of being soggy, there is always the Mediterranean....
Monday is Labor Day, which will lead in the last of our four-day work weeks for awhile. My Bern buddy is in Italy, travelling with his employers for the next couple of weeks, so I have no real plans. Will likely be a home body -- especially given the weather forecast. At least there will be world class snooker matches to keep me amused. (I know, it is sad)
No travel is on the calendar, I feel that I need to see how the visa renewal works out -- I could be "on vacation" for a while. Everyone seems to be thinking positively, so I will too.
We are quite worried about Brian in Boston. He seems to have dropped off the face of the Earth. If anyone has any news, please share.
Cranberry continues to provide amusement. Last night I popped in for a bottle of bubbly (of course I shared!) A very well travelled Swiss friend was in as well. She is great fun. I have been having challenges dealing with a colleague at work and she offered some real insights into the nature of her countrymen.
Birthday next week for myself and another Swiss friend, who shares my love for great port. We will impose on Cranberry's hospitality next Friday before shifting to champagne. As I will be turning slightly older than dirt, I must use any opportunity to prove that I am not too old to make a fool of myself -- it keeps me humble. To paraphrase dear Ms. West, "it'll be one hell of a night..." (even old boys can hope)
May already, April certainly flew by. Good news after the longest March in human history - it was the snow! So nice to see leaves on the trees and flowers appearing everywhere in the gardens. During the bare season, all you see in Zurich are the cold Teutonic/Alpine bones of the city. With spring arriving, it takes on an entirely different and much warmer atmosphere. The English get the credit, but the Swiss love their gardens and it shows.
It is almost time to visit the neighborhood butcher, so I must stop blogging and get going. Later.
