update 2

The market today is much smaller than last week. There are no stalls of craftsmen and artists near the Zitadellen as there were, so I think last week was a special treat. There were many many stalls, with all sorts of craftwork, particularly cloth and clothing, on the park, running right up to the old castle walls. It gave an amazing sense of continuity and history, seeing the market like a slight modernization of what it must have been from the beginning. I'm sorry that it isn't always like that. Tomorrow, though, is the "Zitadellen Fest" which I think is like a Renn Faire.

I've finished my marketing, except for some things I will buy at the normal store. There were no figs this week (I will look again), and the peaches were not ripe. But I found fresh blackberries, and more strawberries, and some cherries (kirschen), which I managed to procure without switching to English, and had a nice exchange with the confectioner, from whom I bought macaroons and rum balls, all in sign language. My flowers this week are a lovely yellow and orange arrangement of gerbera daisies and mums, with a spray of creamy snapdragons. Yesterday the cleaninglady came to clean my little room. When I got home last night, my landlady had left a vase on my table with a long spray of white flowers and some pink roses from the garden. It's is a lovely thing to come in to, and this week I will have two arrangements.

The cheese-monger I save for last (although I bought my cheese first). I very carefully said "Wei geht es Inen?" and he carefully answered "Danke, gut, und Selbst?" after which I said "Danke, gut" and switched to English. We again had a wonderful time trying cheeses, and when I asked about a particular hard goat cheese, he said "Ah, that is a mild cheese, not for you!" I managed to buy only three cheeses this week: a soft blue from France, a soft creme cheese also from France and with the AOC designation, and a hard German mountain cheese of sheep's milk. He tells me that of the almost 6000 varieties of cheese in Europe, only 64 carry the AOC label; he has several of them, and while I don't like all of those I've tried, they are very spectacular. They were very kind to me, when I told them the English word for an herb, they said how wonderful it was that their English was getting better. So chivalrous.

I find that when someone is speaking to me in German, I tense my whole body and strain, as though I can understand by sheer force of will. Perhaps I can. I am starting to hear the breaks between words, and not infrequently will hear words that I recognize, although I won't often know their meaning. I am also starting to recognize some of the numbers, but since the higher numbers are all compounds of the base number with the order tacked on, this isn't as helpful as you might think.

I chat with U, the waitress at Leibervoll. She had English in school, as one of her "license classes" -- advanced classes, for her degree. We talk about whether English is harder or easier than German, and about how living here is different from living in the states. She says that it's a little village, and I explain that the neighborhoods in Chicago are like this, but small towns are not. We talk also about the trains, and how to go to Aachen.

There is a different manager today, an older man who may be the owner. I picture my dad and he talking about restaurants over coffee. I think my father will like it here -- they speak English rather well, and seem disposed to chat, particularly early, just after opening. I will make sure that they have decaffeinated coffee. And I have discovered a little model train shop on the next square.

At the next table are some Irish, tasting the same honey I bought last week and rhapsodizing over it. When U got to them, they struggled for a moment and she said "Oh, you can speak English!" and grinned at me. I think that talking the past week is giving her confidence, too -- because she didn't volunteer English to me until I asked. She frequently says that her English is poor, and I only wish that my German were as poor.

I am planning to go to Aachen this afternoon. It will be my first attempt at the train, and I will have to transfer in Dueren. I want to go today, though, because all of the stores are closed on Sundays. I hope that S will want to go to Aachen today. Or at least that when he comes to do his marketing he'll show me how to take the train. But it is after 11, and there are some green sandals calling my name, and the last train back is apparently at 7pm. So I will prepare to explore.