Repatriate Games



Repatriation Games, Indeed

We’re moving!

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On Cancel Culture

I wrote mindfully, or so I thought about how Anna’s COVID diagnosis, the day before she was to travel stateside for the holidays, upended the plans in place; and how we made the decision for me to travel to be with her.  But, haters gonna hate.

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So This Was Christmas.

The Most Wonderful Time of the Year.

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Lost in Translation

When even something written in your native tongue makes no sense.

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Two rather different transitions in our household this week; this one is the more uncomplicated.

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The Day Outing That Wasn’t

Sunday was a perfect storm of the structured, rules-driven Austrian life I will never understand.

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The Annual New Year’s Eve Retreat

The Vienna skyline on New Year’s Eve resembles a shock and awe campaign; the normally reserved Viennese start their pyrotechnic madness in the early afternoon and by midnight the air is pungent with smoke, and the city filled with drunken revelers leaving their calling cards everywhere.

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The Ex-pat Baccalaureate

Last week I attended the final art group meeting of the “semester,” as the sponsor refers to it. The setting was the Baroque Winter Palace of Prince Eugene of Savoy here in the city; the exhibit was titled, The Power of Pomp (in English).

I like the Winter Palace, with its elegant and understated rooms. Add in a little bit of art and a visit is a sweet treat. Whomever is curating the recent exhibits should be commended; twice in recent months I have returned with Tony and served as his “private guide” to exhibits I have enjoyed with my group.

A Clean Slate Awaits

There is a myth about ex-pat life (well, there are many myths) that was dispelled early on for me: many parents who place their students in private, international schools are no more invested than many parents whose students attend public schools.

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