by forkitude
My recent trip to Switzerland with my boyfriend brought me to his grandmother’s house. In an old farmhouse with a garden, a wood oven, and a ceiling so low that I hit my 6’0″ tall head a few times.
I ate three square meals a day, sitting down at a table. (Can this be real?) When I stumbled down the stairs in the morning, the breakfast table would be set with plates, napkins, silverware, hot tea, milk, yogurt, cheese, fresh-made jam, honey, bread and museli. Did I die and go to heaven? No, I was still alive in Switzerland at a grandmother’s house.
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