In Which We Arrive in Switzerland

I love this picture. Sunflowers are the epitome of Switzerland in the late-summer and early-fall. Seemingly everyone has them in their gardens. And isn't a sunflower lovely to behold? Especially when set against the backdrop of a church steeple.

By the way, I've just realized that this journey will be conveyed in reverse chronological order unless I post my last pictures first and work backwards. But I can't do that. That feels wrong to me. So the hoards of people viewing this ~ and you two know who I'm talking about ~ will have to do the work yourself and page back if chronology is important to you. Which, actually, is what I do when viewing other blogs where a story is being told. Call it obsessive compulsive. Call it chronologically challenged. I like to think of it as organized. : )

Moving right along. We got on the big bird and flew ~ with a change of plans in airport hell also known as Dusseldorf. Oh. My. Word. Talk about the antithesis of Vancouver. But we survived the seemingly endless security checks and flew on to Zurich, where security is altogether non-existent. Unless you're not white, perhaps. All I know is, if you're white, and if you possess an American passport, your "security" check will last approximately three-tenths of a second.

Upon arrival, some of us did this: While Kai promptly did this: Frankly, after staying up all night packing for a family of seven and then traveling halfway across the world, I think I should've joined Kai. Although drinking wine and watching the guys play soccer was an acceptable alternative. The next morning we awoke to one of the few sunny days. The view outside our apartment ~ we rented the lower floor of a farm house ~ was standard, picture-perfect central Switzerland: Yes, I love nothing more than leaving my farm so I can vacation on a farm. But these are Brown Swiss cows, while the ones I normally look at are Jerseys. A world of difference. Ahem.

Our abode suited us fine, although I have to admit that after some time and circumstances, I would've given my eye-teeth (what are those, anyway?) for a phone. Or television. Or computer. Or book. Something. Anything.But the apartment was big and clean and close enough to the people we visit, so that was good. And the boys rilly, rilly liked the swing in the hallway. A swing! In the house! What a cool idea! Unless you're the adult. Listening to people fight over said swing. And cry over injuries inflicted by people using said swing. So we'll just reserve that swing-in-the-house idea for vacation, thankyouverymuch. : )