That village feeling

We have been living in this apartment for 2.5 years. And even without knowing the language, I feel a part of the place. The man who sells the flowers most days in front of the train station (and says hello to Lily and is often singing), the check-out women at Migros (through pregnancy and now returning to work I ask one of them how her newborn David is...and it always reminds me of Baby David from the tv show The Royales!), the old woman who pushes around the older woman in her wheelchair, holding the little dog (I always look away when the dog licks the old woman's face), the women in the chemist who we often see on a regular basis, the tall striking blonde woman who works in the underground carpark below us (striking because she dresses head to toe like Olivia Newton John circa 1984...on acid).

And a big part of our connection to this area is garderie (nursery) which Lily attended for nearly 2.5 years (from March 2003 until July 2005). And where Charlotte started going earlier this year, nearly two years after Lily first started. Garderie is barely a 5 minute walk from our apartment, one of the furtherest things we'd walk to around here (other than the two parks we take the kids, they'd be 10mins walk). So we know Yasmine, the woman who runs it, fairly well. She's become a friend and we love running into her, downstairs in the square (like today) or in the park. She has Maxim, her son, with her and the kids enjoy playing together. She has helped me out numerous times, and often offered to take Lily for an afternoon here or there without charging extra. And today I received a text message from Yasmine asking how Lily's first day at school was. She loves the girls...and we love her.