T. assures me, however, that a north German man wouldn't be caught dead in Bavarian lederhosen.
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About My Blog
When I met my husband (let's call him T.) my knowledge about his native Germany amounted to a few stereotypes: unisex saunas, Oktoberfest, potatoes, Jaegermeister, villainous Hollywood characters zat Sprechen zee Deutsch, Rammstein, punctuality, luxury vehicles and Basil Fawlty marching up and down like this:
After eight years of regularly pausing to wonder what T.'s on about and stumbling through gatherings with the in-laws, I am researching the language, literature, art, architecture and history of his fatherland. I am Australian, but I am also a frau. Actually, my sister says I'm Fraustralian.
I also have a north German husband who would not be caught dead in Lederhosen, though he also wouldn't dare where a pair of birkis.(Thanks for the link - I love your German quips!)
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