Damn, we're good.

Good enough, that is, to navigate the French medical system to a) find the pharmacie; b) learn that we need a doctor's prescription in order to get another course of antibiotics for Mom's missing toenails; c) find the doctor's house/practice; d) describe the difficulty with the toenails (this one was cheating: a quick peek and anyone can see they're verging on gangrenous); e) explain the heart history and confirm that the new antibiotic won't interfere with the beta blockers; f) discuss the shifting boundaries of France and Germany over the course of the 20th century with the doctor; and g) go back to the pharmacie and get the right prescriptions. All before 10 am!

And a few minutes later Peter and I were on the motorway headed north, past Strasbourg and into Germany, past Saarbrücken and into the little town of Hauptstuhl, home of Peter's dear friends Brad and Peggy from Omaha.  Brad, an architect, is here to build a new, massive hospital on the base in nearby Langstuhl, and three years in, they've managed to cut down a few trees.  American military bureaucracy combined with zealous German environmentalists have brought the project almost to its knees, and instead of a 3-5 year stint they're now looking at being here 7-10 years.  So they do what we would do in those circumstances: they travel all over the place in an absolutely adorable Citroen hardtop convertible that looks like a cousin of a TT.  Paris for weekends. Spain for Burning Man. Belgium, Prague, Luxembourg, and of course, just over the border to those fabulous French grocery stores.  We've continued here with them the pattern of our days so far in Alsace: food, a little drive through the village (including something new this trip: a truly impressive thrift shop), a walk around a castle, a glass of beer out in the Biergarten, and then delicious food and wine at a local restaurant.  Followed by ginger eau de vie back at their house, chocolate hazelnut gelato, and finally a German champagne flavored with elderflower and mint.  Yep, just another day in paradise.  Complete with the snoring man, and the foggy sense of satisfaction from a day well spent and a growing undercurrent of disbelief that it's all going by so quickly.