While much is the same, some customs and traditions in Austria are different. Christmas at home was special. I have so many great memories. What an amazing childhood I had. I was fortunate to spend twelve wonderful years with my Grandma on our farm, and now looking back, I could fill books with stories and anecdotes.
The Austrian Alps in the background, a Christmas song in a dialect our neighbors the Germans cannot understand, even though we talk the same language. The dialect of the mountains, soft and harsh at the same time, comforting to the ear and still, oh, so familiar to me. The song tells about Christmas 1946, during a time when the world was at war. And while you might not understand, listen to the music and read the lyrics and you will quickly understand why I love this Christmas song so much.
If you want to enjoy a great roasted duck, you either call a Chinese restaurant and order a whole Peking duck for take-out, or you roast one yourself at home. The trick to a superb Christmas duck is to put it in the cold oven, an old, famous Danish recipe, which originally did not include alcohol. We enjoyed our Austrian duck roasted like this every year, and to this day, I have not changed a thing.
Today is Saint Nikolaus day, and in a few hours, right after dawn, little children in Germany, Austria, Switzerland, and many other countries, will sit in the living room and kitchen, huddled up together waiting for the Saint to arrive. Even now fifty years later and five thousand miles away, I still celebrate the day and I remember my childhood.
I had packed a small kid-size suitcase with my pajamas and Dusie. Her real name was Susie, but it seems I had problems with the “S” as a child, so I had renamed my doll. I wore my red winter coat, black shiny summer shoes even though it was cold outside and my favorite dress, that’s all I took with me, and of course, my school backpack.
My husband had his first Starbucks coffee a few weeks ago. When I asked him how he liked it, he said it was alright, but not worth the money. Sometimes, his down to earthiness can be a bit annoying. Of course, he is right. I remember how shocked I was years ago when a friend invited me to a cup of overpriced caramel-whipped-cream-madness. I had forgotten and he brought things back into perspective.
The smell of fresh baked cookies was lingering in the air. We were playing outside and the scents coming from my Grandma’s kitchen drove us crazy. I don’t think there is anything more tempting to a child than warm, fresh-baked cookies.
“Go into yourself. Find out the reason that commands you to write; see whether it has spread its roots into the very depths of your heart; confess to yourself whether you would have to die if you were forbidden to write.
The more people I get to know, the more I love being by myself. The more I am by myself, the more questions I have. People have changed and I haven’t changed with them. I am stuck in a past that is long gone, and I find myself wondering where that leaves me.
“You had to kill this child, I know”
I start writing a comment, and what was supposed to be just a simple reply, started to get a life of its own and it got longer and longer -to the point that I was writing a blog post. The old saying
GETTING OLD IS MANDATORY, GROWING UP IS OPTIONAL
brought back memories and so it began. My fingers connected with my brain, and the thoughts started flowing right into the keyboard. The COMMENT got longer and more personal.
Just Sharing
Antonia Michaelis Austria childhood comments fairy tales memories poem poetry The Storyteller Vienna