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German Sausages

I really like food. I like food a lot. When I spent a semester in Europe there was only one time this miser freely opened his wallet: an open air, pre-holiday festival of food. I rounded a corner on a wintery day after stopping to visit an old church and happened upon a scene from a 1960’s Cary Grant spy chase scene. The smells were intoxicating and I went to the closest ATM, paid willingly the various service charges for withdrawing money in a foreign country, and got to eating. This was in Germany and the variety of sausages cooking over open fires made my mouth water.

All of this is the long way to get around to my love for food but, particularly, German food. I’m completely Irish by heritage but my merger with a German-Irish woman (with some other stuff too) created a partnership for life that has passed its way to my son. Since I’m at home all day with our son and (I must confess) I’m not much of a cook we were often left eating peanut butter on bread. If I was feeling festive there might be jelly or honey to go with it but largely nothing of particular interest. This changed when we tried some local sausage from a free-range farm. It was excellent.

So today, as we do many days, my son and I sat down to consume some German sausage. When he first tasted it his face lit up. He really enjoyed it. Now we enjoy it together. October is coming up soon and I’m looking forward to celebrating Octoberfest in one way or another during the month. It is a testament to the expansion of our family — not just with a child but with a culture. I’ve gained a culture. The month of October will be filled the good stuff of my better half. I’m very much looking forward to it.