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BroadBean of Celeste
Jan. 11th, 2019 10:29 pmAnd here we are in lovely downtown Frankenmuth, home of tchotchkes and cheese. Frankenmuth, a settlement of German Lutheran farmers in a very flat part of Michigan, decided to diversify itself into a tourist attraction. I think this started with Bronner's, a bewildering emporium of Christmas decor with a parking lot the size of New Jersey. Bronner's also has a replica of the chapel where "Silent Night" was first performed. Farther down the main street, two imposing restaurants face off on opposite sides of the street, each offering family-style chicken dinners and other comfort food. The rest of the main drag is a clamor of shops selling all kinds of items to catch the eye of the strolling tourist, with a kilt shop just to take the edge off all that Germanity. Frankenmuth also holds a large, historic German Lutheran church called St. Lorenz, and it is here that Fritz and his wife teach school. I was going to call Mrs. Fritz by the German name for "peach," since she grew up in Georgia, but the German word is Pfirsich, which probably most people can't pronounce. It would serve as the name of an alien if I just stuck a couple of apostrophes into it. So I guess we'll just call her Peach.
We checked into our hotel, strolled down the street and got some coffee, and then met the family at St. Lorenz. We had been invited to come and have pizza. It was after 6, and I was hungry. However, the rehearsal was just starting, so we waited till it was over and then Fritz guided us to the pizza place. It turned out to be the rehearsal dinner. I was honored to be invited, but paid for my pizza by extroverting like mad. When I say "German" here, I'm not talking about your laconic Prussians. This is an altogether different type of German--gregarious and trained from birth to make a profession of being nice. I'm getting my snark on, preparatory to being trapped in church tomorrow, but I must say, it occurred to me at dinner that we're lucky that on both the Sparrowhawk's side and mine, our families are, for the most part, remarkably attractive and admirable people. They are also exhausting, and I'm happy to take a break for a few hours.
We checked into our hotel, strolled down the street and got some coffee, and then met the family at St. Lorenz. We had been invited to come and have pizza. It was after 6, and I was hungry. However, the rehearsal was just starting, so we waited till it was over and then Fritz guided us to the pizza place. It turned out to be the rehearsal dinner. I was honored to be invited, but paid for my pizza by extroverting like mad. When I say "German" here, I'm not talking about your laconic Prussians. This is an altogether different type of German--gregarious and trained from birth to make a profession of being nice. I'm getting my snark on, preparatory to being trapped in church tomorrow, but I must say, it occurred to me at dinner that we're lucky that on both the Sparrowhawk's side and mine, our families are, for the most part, remarkably attractive and admirable people. They are also exhausting, and I'm happy to take a break for a few hours.
