Life: Idiotropic

Our cows are back and my fanatical love for all critters bovine is rubbing off on my family. The little ones have always been entranced by any creature (including daddy long legs), but now even Kirk is getting excited about cows. He used to look at me funny when I'd open up the window and moo at them. Now Tiara joins in the moo-fest and I often see Kirk looking out the window watching them. "Look, Tiffany. The cows are being cute again!" We have three this time - not the same cows as before, but they are still beautiful and sweet. The black faced one is the friendliest and comes to the fence when he sees us - even from inside the house. Today I jumped out the window to feed him a piece of bread. Cows love bread.


Critters. I like them. But not all of them. I generally favor the kind with 4 legs or less. Eight is too many. Elise, on the other hand, is obsessed with daddy long legs. She loves them and she loves to say their name. So, at least 10 times a day, I hear "Look, Mom, a daddy long legs." No, our house isn't infested. She says it when they aren't there. Yesterday she went to take a drink of her milk. "Hey! There are cheerios in my milk." Sure enough, two little cheerios floated on top. I didn't do it. Elise obviously didn't do it. Luci was the only other one home. So, Luci said, "I didn't do it! The daddy long legs did. I saw it!." Then she went into the story of how he came down from the wall and crawled over to the cheerio bowl and picked up two cheerios and then crawled over to the milk and up the cup and then put them in and crawled away. And Luci saw the whole thing!

In the spirit of allowing differences among my children, I have encouraged Arianna and Luci to try different things, but, like many little sisters, I suppose, they want so much to be like their big sister and what she does is best.

So, ballet it is!

Stella is a wonderful British woman who teaches dance classes on base. Tiara took with her briefly last year before we found Danzaira and she did an amazing job.

On Monday I took Arianna and Luci to the beginners class with Stella. Luci has no experience and Arianna had only taken one summer at Ballet Oklahoma. Within five minutes, Stella said that she needed Luci to come back the next day for the next level up. At the end of class she asked, "and what do we do with Arianna?" Arianna went to the Grade 1 class today having skipped the three classes below it.

So, I guess for now, I've found their niche. And Tiara gets the credit for it. They play dance at home. Tiara corrects them at home just like a teacher would. So, they've learned the French and they've learned proper positioning from their big sister. Stella asked Tiara to help out on Monday and said that anytime Tiara wants to assist her in the classes that she is welcome. Tiara is excited about that and will probably help in Luci's class whenever the homework load allows for it.

Below Luci awaits the beginning of her Tuesday class. She has several friends in the class already and is very happy. When we got home she didn't want to change. She likes looking like a princess. So, out to the courtyard she went to ride her bike in her princess clothes. That's my girl!

Arianna is the little monkey in the center bottom of the photo, just two photos in from the left.

Arianna has just finished her first week of kindergarten. I asked her what she thought and got a shrug of the shoulders. Nothing seems to excite her about this year at school which has really surprised and worried me a little. My social butterfly has a class full of her closest friends, a teacher who is strict, but sweet, and a great classroom. May be she’s just tired. I certainly hope so. Next week I hope to get more details out of her. All I got this week was how many times each day they got to go outside and the lyrics to one song they sang. When I asked yesterday what they did at school (minutes after she stepped off the bus), all I got in reply was, “I forgot already.” Arianna and Nevan at the Kindergarten Orientation

Elise playing at the Kindergarten Orientation, Aug 21

On Monday parents and students arrived at the beginning of the school day not for the first day of school, but for kindergarten orientation which translated into a really long morning. 45 minutes of free play as the 26 new students played with every toy in the room, 45 minutes of story time and listening to the teacher and the principal talk, then the students left and the parents were stuck with another 30 minutes of question and answer time with the teacher during which we learned that they won’t split the class until they got at least 30 students and that the teacher, though experienced, is completely deaf on one side and very sensitive to noise (so how is a classroom of 26 5-year-olds a good thing?).

Tuesday was the first day of kindergarten. It was Arianna’s first day of “real” school.

I remember the first time that Tiara started school. It was such a big day. I drove her to school, walked her to her classroom, talked with the teacher for a minute, then completely bawled as I walked away. It was as if a piece of me was being torn away and it felt wrong the entire day to be without her.

Arianna is a completely different kid in every way, but I still had that feeling that this was an important day and I wanted to mark it as such by driving her to school the first day and walking her to her classroom. Tiara - my grown up 6^th grader – still wanted me to drive her to school on her first day… but did Aria? No. Of course not. Miss independent was eager and ready to jump on that bus like all the other kids. Which is fine. That is her and her eagerness and enthusiasm make her who she is.

At the bus-stop

So, at 0750 Tiara and Arianna walked out our front door and hiked those 40 feet to the bus stop to wait with all the other parents and kids. The bus arrived a few minutes later and my little kindergartener jumped on without any hesitation whatsoever. Another kindergartener got on after her. Ria was shy and clung to her mother. Arianna talked to her and sat with her and Ria felt better.

During the day I made the cone. In Germany when students start their first year of school (age 6 here), they receive a cone from their parents filled with gifts and candy. Kirk and I both wanted to make one for her as the ones in the stores seemed small and a bit boring. I’d planned on starting it two weeks ago, but life happens, so that morning, I began. Luci loved it, so I figured it would be a hit with Arianna.

At 1445, I stood outside the classroom doors with Elise and Luci at my side and a giant cone in my arms. I was the only one carrying a cone. One woman asked if I’d brought her flowers. All looked at me with puzzled expressions. Many Americans don’t shop at the German stores and if they did, they wouldn’t necessarily know the tradition. I knew it because my grandmother is from Germany and she got a cone and, Kirk, who’d lived her before also knew of the tradition.

Arianna came bouncing out of the classroom and told her teacher, “I see my mom.” All the kids that are picked up are required to tell the teacher that particular phrase before they are released. Her face was bright and she loved her cone running around the playground with it in her arms. She opened it while Luci had ballet class, then put everything back in carefully. At home she opened it all up again with just as much excitement. Later that evening she asked, “Can you make me a cone when I am six?” Sadly, no, unless she goes to a German school next year since they start their schooling one year later… but we’ll see. I’ll save that for another bog.

p.s. That girl on the left is my grandmother when she started school and got her cone. It feels good to renew a tradition.

Arianna is growing up
Lately (for the last 6 weeks) we've had a little rain (a lot). But, it comes fast and leaves almost as quickly, so we do see sun here and there. On Sunday we saw a bit of blue sky and decided to go out. With no plan and less motivation, we gathered up the herd and programmed Stella for Rheinmein, the British base just north of us.

We'd heard that they had some good restaurants and that we had privaleges at their shopping centers, so I was curious to see what was there hoping to find some fabulous British fare. The drive was only 30 minutes. During the first 15 the water came down in buckets with occasional hail. I felt bad for the poncho laden people stooped over in the fields working with the crops. One field must have had at least 20 workers in it. That was the area with the heaviest rain.
The base seemed to be in the middle of nowhere, but it is actually not far from Dusseldorf. We drove onto it and were immediately amazed by its enormity. The base seemed to go on forever and it had all of the niceties including some very nice "base houses", several clay floored tennis courts, and a very nice swimming pool. We saw both Dutch and Italian detatchments there and an American base exchange. Eventually we found the NAAFI which is our equivalent of a commissary and base exchange - basically grocery and all other goods. The prices were in Euros on most things and pounds for others. The commissary had a very nice selection of Indian sauces and some Twinings tea that I can't get at my local stores, so I'll definitely go back for a little shopping on occasion.

Although it was a nice little shopping center, I had expected more - something special and very British. There wasn't really anything that screamed Britain - certainly nothing that I couldn't live without. And, all of the toys were American toys that I could pick up at any ToysRUs (yes, they have those over here too). I think that's one of my biggest disappointments here. I had thought I was entering a modern, yet older continent. Yes, Europe is older, but all around us are things that are new and modern. It seems the appreciation of the old is not here anymore. Craftmanship is being sent out to other Eastern block nations that have cheaper labor, and, just when I think may be I can find that really special item somewhere, I usually just come across the same ol' American stuff. "Made in China" is everywhere.

Starving, we looked for "all the really tasty restaurants" that we'd heard about from friends. We only found one and it was closed. So, frustrated and starving with little ones clamboring for food in the backseat, we drove to Heinsburg for dinner. Kirk took us to a Turkish place he'd been to before. It was the typical German Turkish restaurant offering Doners (Gyros), pasta, pizza, and schnitzel. All the food was great though I've yet to be to a German restaurant.

I'd been to Heinsburg, but never to the Centrum. They have a remarkably nice Centrum with streets packed with quaint shops stemming from the very center like fingers. In the center was an ice cream shop at the base of a large hill. The hill was hard to miss. We saw it driving in with a beautiful green spired church on top of it and an old castle ruin to one side. So, after dinner we all took a walk. The church was closed, but the hill has walking trails all around it and up on top by the ruin, so the girls enjoyed the time to run and play. The church itself was beautiful especially with the backdrop of blue and fluffy white clouds. On each corner of the tower was a statue. Two scary looking gargoyles guarded the front two corners while an angel and a lion stood on the other side.


On the other side of the church along the path playground equipment was scattered around. They weren't traditional things like slides. Traditional playground toys exist here, but there are a lot of other, more creative toys here too. A lot of spinning things. The big blue disk at one point had all 4 girls on it, all shrieking and laughing and worried that they were going to fall off. My middle two lasted the longest and Luci was the fearless one smiling no matter how fast Kirk spun it. The girls played until 7 when it was time to head home.

The drive home was beautifully sunny with all the fields shimmering in the sun still wet from the rain.

Yesterday morning Tiara asked if she could pack her lunch. "No, not yet." Yesterday afternoon Tiara asked hourly if she could pack her lunch. "After dinner" was the hourly reply. Finally, after dinner she asked and got a yes. I had no idea packing a lunch could be so exciting. Apparently being a 6th grader makes everything exciting. I wonder if she'll be this happy doing her chores???

She set out her clothes after consulting with me repeatedly to make sure it looked nice, went through her backpack TWICE, and flip flopped in bed restlessly unable to sleep. I don't know if the Olympic athletes got this excited before their events. Tiara seriously could win a gold medal in nervous energy.

This morning, she JUMPED out of bed at 0600 which is quite unheard of for her (that's it, she's not related to me. NO child of mine could ever be so cheerful in the morning). She was smiling so much her cheeks hurt, but her stomach was full of over-sugared butterflys. I kept seeing her literally jumping up and down on her toes like she does in ballet, grinning ear to ear with a painfully wide smile, making this tires on concrete screeching noise, that I think was supposed to sound happy.

The bus stop is literally right next to our house, but she made me get up early to drive her to school this first day so she "wouldn't look dumb and go to the wrong place." So, I got up early, got her sisters up and ready early, drove her to school, walked her in, and before we'd even reached the door, she saw her best friend and took off. Hmmm... the whole getting up early thing quite seem so important at that point!

Other parents were there though. I attended their "first-day-of-school kick-off" consisting of a welcoming speech and introduction of teachers. When it was over I talked to some of my PTSO friends and ended up volunteering to co-chair the yearbook committee. That will be fun. That is worth getting up early for!
So, the camera came out and I started taking pictures. That afternoon I came back for the PTSO's "back to school bash" to take more pictures. The principal wore a tuxedo complete with satin cumberbund, a cat-in-the-hat tall red and white striped hat, and rose colored glasses. Tiara wouldn't smile for the camera, but her friend Krista would. The "bash" meant that the kids got out of class 15 minutes early to hang out on the playground while the PTSO handed out gummy bears to each student.

Now that the first day is over Tiara is no longer nervous, but hyper and happy. She loves her class. She loves her teacher. She is thrilled to be sitting in the front row. She is ecstatic to be in 6th grade. I think she quoted just about everything her teacher said today. Mrs. Vasko-Kingma is VERY strict, but also very kind and fun. Tiara will do well this year.
We got home and I told her about yearbook. "So you're going to be really involved this year? You're going to be at the school all the time?" She's smiling and nodding and jumping up and down. I think she's about as excited about my PTSO involvment as she is about her status as a 6th grader. Not like I haven't been involved. Homeroom mom 2 years in a row - practically lived at Bryant elementary, then homeschooled for 2.5 years... can't be more involved that that!
Anyway... a good day. And, eventful, for my eldest who has her lunch packed for tomorrow and will be springing out of bed again at 6. At least I get to sleep in a little tomorrow. Forget the worm, cover it in chocolate for all I care... I'm NOT an early bird.

Yesterday I was fixing Arianna's hair in the bathroom while Luci and Elise discussed their favorite movies. "Aria, what's your favorite movie," asked Luci. No answer. The question was repeated at least 20 times by both Luci and Elise with increasing volume and frequency without a word from Arianna until, at last, Aria could take it no longer. In a curt voice she said without flinching a bit as I put her hair into a pony tail, "Mom is fixing my hair. I will discuss it with you in a minute!" Hmmm... I wonder where she learned that one?

The good news: I'm not pregnant. Not that I would be. We (meaning Kirk) took care of that a couple years ago. But, being female, every time that I have a bout of queasiness, the first thought is pregnancy.

So for several months I've had bouts of exhaustion and ignored them. A couple months ago a doctor told me to go get my blood checked and I didn't. No time. Then last week, for the entire week, I experienced 24/7 nausea. Nothing helped. Kirk was scared. I'd tease him a little... things like, "you know, yesterday I ate half a box of triscuits. It's wierd. I haven't wanted triscuits since I was pregnant with Tiara." Yeah, comments like that terrified him. It was fun. But after 7 days, I was a little worried too. Another baby would be wonderful, but not right now, may be when it calls me grandma.

So, that took up three hours of my Monday. Tiara watched her sisters and I got blood drawn. The exciting conclusion: anemia. One week later the iron tablets are helping and the nausea is mostly gone, but my energy is still low. So, our week was a little slow with not a lot of excitement.

Tuesday we went to Pee Wees with some friends and the kids played. Tiara had a sleepover that night. Wednesday was an outing to the library to return books and check out new ones. The kids got to pick prizes for reading a lot of books - gross gooey stuff, a fish that squirts water... you know, the kind of toys that sneak into the garbage can while they're sleeping.

On Thursday we met a friend of Arianna's at the bowling ally and he, Arianna, and Tiara bowled a game. Both Arianna and Nevan were tired after 4 frames, but they finished. They had 6# balls there. Nevan used the 6# one, but Arianna wanted the 8# because it was a prettier bright pink color. During that outing we ran into three other people that we knew and Kirk showed up with a couple friends too for lunch. Yes, the bowling ally is the big American hang out around here. Sad, but true and, to their credit, they do have the best ribs and burgers around.

Friday is once again my Spanish day. I met my friends for coffee on base. Another nice time. Maria's invited the girls and I to spend a week in Madrid with her next summer. I think we'll definitely go.

This Saturday was my mother/daughter day with Tiara. We went to Sittard to shop. She wanted to get some new things for school - jewlery and socks... little things. We had lunch at the Vroom and Dreesan. She had a ham and cheese croissant. We both had a fruit cake. It was actually a marzipan cake, wrapped and baked in puff pastry, then topped with fresh fruit. Yummy, but almost too sweet. I think an entire pot of coffee would have been perfect to wash it down.

The shopping was fun. The V&D has the best sock selection. Apparently "panty" is Dutch for tights because that's how they were all labelled. Tiara turned a little pink when she realized that she was shopping for things called "panties." I looked at toys. 90% of the toys there are American which was disappointing. The Dutch toys all had unusually large heads - bodies were normal, but the heads could have been in a Macy's parade. And they weren't cute. The singing Dora sang in Dutch. Practical, but funny to hear.

Standing in line there was the most horrendous part of the day. Tiara and I both got the brutal reminder that personal space laws are different here. The Dutch (and most other Europeans) don't need it and don't give it. Usually I notice, but it doesn't bother me. This day I felt like I was in a Seattle mosh pit. The woman behind us kept scooting forward until she was almost touching us. Her bag kept bumping me. Tiara's hair was touching her. We would scoot forward and so would she. Pretty soon we had to stop because we were getting too close to the lady in front of us. I don't want to be that rude American, but really, a little breathing room would be nice. And to breathe freely without feeling the breathe of a stranger on your back... that would be nice too.

It was market day so half the square was full with produce, baked goods, and cheese venders. A semi-truck was pulling up when we went for lunch. When we came out one entire side of it was gone and a stage was there - attatched to the truck for a big concert that night. They have concerts almost every Saturday night there in the square in Sittard in the summer.

Tiara was able to do her jewlery shopping and we survived the rest of the outing. The smoke was everywhere yesterday. It seems everyone was smoking from young to pregnant to old. I did finally find a non-smoking section in the V&D... after we'd held our breath through most the meal. Smoke in Dutch is Rok. Rok in German is skirt. Not that it matters, but I'm learning.

The best part of our outing was trying out the new Beans and Bagels shop on the corner. We were the only customers at the moment, so no space issues... Excellent coffee and very tasty bagel sandwhiches served in a very tastefully done shop. We'll be back - and next time I'll see if they have a no-smoking section too.

This looks more like the Italian flag than a meal, but this was my lunch the other day. The green is cheese - very good cheese from the Sittard market. It's pesto cheese and is only naturally colored from the basil - no artificial color at all! Isn't it beautiful! The red berries are Johannesbeeren - red currants that are sold all around here. My favorite bakery makes the most delicious cheesecake with them. I've never seen them in the states, but they are tart and delicious and a staple in our fridge here.

Having enjoyed our little "film fest" last week, I rented some more.

Bon Voyage is a French WW2 film from an atypical WW2 angle. It is set in France and tells the intertwining stories of its characters. It is interesting and fun to watch. Kirk enjoyed it too. And, it is very French. What interested me most is watching the scenes in which the people debated about what should be done about the war and to see the arguements for and against the actions that the French ultimately did take. A good movie.

Character is a bit dark and long, but enjoyable. Kirk liked this one too. It is Dutch. I think I enjoyed watching the movie played out in Rotterdam more than anything. I got to see the large hooks in action - those same hooks that are so common hanging at the top of Amsterdam homes and used to haul up furniture.

Under the Sand. Don't rent it. Don't even bother to click the link and read the review. It is a film for film's sake. It is a chick flick to the core, but not in a good way. It is the dull, lingering, seeming-like-it-will-never end film about a woman whose husband dies in the first 10 minutes, yet she denies it even at the very end and fantasizes that he's there. There is no character development, no resolution, nothing. It's a dismal movie about a dismal woman who can't get over it. I'd rather clean my kitchen... and that's saying a lot.

So, here's hoping this week is more eventful. Tiara starts school on Wednesday, so there's a lot of little things that need to be done between now and then. More when there's more to say...

From the cemetary we drove back to Valkenburg in hope of finding a place to park and trying out Ron's Big Burgers - a restaurant I'd remembered seeing my last visit there. The city was crowded with large herds of pedestrians and cars everywhere. There was no sign of the horses we'd seen earlier, but no sign of parking either unless we wanted to walk several kilometers with the girls. They were too tired and hungry for that.

So, we headed to Maastricht. Kirk, Aria, and Luci had never been to Maastricht. I drove and we parked once again in the Vrijthof. This day, instead of being empty like before, the Vrijthof square was packed with people. It was the International ???? Competition. I'm sorry... I didn't write down the Dutch work to look up. It was a sport where men hurled large metal balls in rectangular sand pits to knock the other man's ball out of the way. It really looked like the Paul Bunyon version of children's marbles. But it filled the Vrijthof completely allowing no place to walk except a small band of cement all around it. The cafes were packed unlike before and people were everywhere.
Kirk led us down a different street we had not been down before and we ended up at Stokstraat again. We ate just outside that area at a little Greek place. Kirk, Tiara, and I all ordered what we thought were sandwhiches. Tiara and Kirk wanted Gyros. I wanted a shoarma. What we all got was very good Greek style spiced meat piled on top of a pile of french fries. I didn't particularly love french fries in the states... I'm beginning to loathe them here. They are everywhere. At a restaurant you'll order a steak and it will come with a side of french fries. Outside of Extra there is a booth selling french fries. Almost all meals come with french fries - anywhere. In Germany, Belgium, and the Netherlands - so far, the french fry is inescapable and just as greasy as ever. When we walked to the market in Maastricht, not only was there a McDonalds on the corner (there is one in the Vrijthof as well), but there are TWO little restaurants that sell nothing but french fries with different toppings! If people here are thinner than Americans, it is only because they bicycle a lot because is seems that french fries and ice cream are the foods of choice. Yuck.
After a less-than-satisfying dinner we took a walk to show Kirk some of the town and get photos of things I'd missed before. We walked through the Helpoort (1229), then up on the wall near it, down and over to the pedestrian bridge. The girls enjoyed watching the boats go by. I enjoyed the contrast between the old side of the city on on side of the bridge and the very modern side on the other. A singer, crooning loudly from a restaurant on the old side, filled the entire area with music as her voice bounced off the wall on the new side. It was hard to tell where the music came from. It seemed - from everywhere.


From the bridge we walked back to the Helpoort, then along another piece of wall and to the green space so the kids could run. By the Helpoort, there is a wall that curves around and meets with some houses creating a little area that is blocked in. It is a quiet little nook shaded with a tree and overlooked by a little white half-timbered house behind it. In that spot a group of friends sat at a table drinking wine, playing cards, and laughing.

The kids enjoyed walking on top of the wall and sitting on the old cannons that rested on each turret. The ducks in the pond below were entertaining as well, but tiny bladders cut that time short.


About the time we hit the green space, the kids had to use the restroom, so we started to head back. Restrooms are not easy to come by. There aren't many public ones and restaurants and stores are not as apt to allow public use of theirs unless you are a well paying customer. So, we headed back to the Greek place to use there's. If we weren't so desperate, we would have left. There I stood with Luci, Tiara, and Arianna crammed into a space only big enough for one. Tiara lined the toilet for Luci and she went. The place was dirty and felt gross just to be there. It got worse when Luci stood up and the toilet seat fell off. Poor Tiara had to pick it up for her turn to go. Needless to say we got out of there fast and all washed our hands really well. Ick. American rest stops are cleaner.

Anyway... that was our Sunday. A cemetary and a walk through Maastricht - not bad. And, Tiara and I have discovered a bunch of shops and cafes that we want to go to next time we go to Maastricht. They even have a Claires! Tiara is so happy.

Today we went to the Netherlands American War Cemetary and Memorial in Margraten, Netherlands, only about 30 minutes from our house. Yeah, everything is about 30 minutes from our house, or at least that's what Stella, our trusty GPS system tells us when we get into the car. Then an hour later, we arrive. So she's optimistic. I like that trait. In this case, it only took us about 40 minutes to get to the cemetary - so she wasn't horribly wrong.

Anyway, visiting cemetaries is not my idea of fun, but Kirk wanted to go. Germans visit cemetaries regularly - well, at least the old ones do. Tante Tinny visits the local cemtary at least once a week to tend to the stone and the flowers there. Yesterday I saw her leaving on her bicycle all dressed up with a beautiful dress on, her hair pulled back nicely, pretty shoes, a rake in one hand, and new flowers in her basket. She was heading off to the Friedhof (cemetary) where her husband and brother are buried.
We wound around the south Limburg hills into Valkenburg where we got stuck behind a parade of horse drawn carriages in which people in Victorian age costume sat all prim and proper riding through the town. We saw at least 12 carriages go by while we waited, then the police gave us our turn and we saw another 10-12 carriages lined up in the side street waiting their turn. So it was quite a big crowd. Just another 10 minutes outside Valkenburg was Margraten, a very tiny little town - and then, the cemetary. I was surprised how many people were there. Most were Dutch, but I heard German and English spoken as well. The parking lot was full.
In the front a large map stood on the side showing the movements of troops in 1944-5. This is just a small portion above, but the portion that shows the area where we live. It also shows a small white cross, representing the cemetary just to the west of Aachen or SW of the red letter "A" visible in the photo.
I'm usually very stoic about cemetaries. Not that I don't care, because I do, but I don't usually get worked up emotionally. For some reason, this cemetary got to me. Just standing there at the map made me teary. The entire place was very moving and to see so many people there made it even more touching. To see that this bit of American land - given to us "for perpetuity" as a memorial - is visited regularly, is very nice. The girls were quite, unusually so. Tiara and I walked around looking around.

It was a quiet emotional moment for both her and I until the blasting of the bagpipes at which she and I both looked at eachother and broke into laughter. A women with short curly hair and a pink shirt (SNL's "Pat" for those who know the show), stood by the tower playing the bagpipes for about 15 minutes. It wasn't what I'd expect to hear at an American Cemetary in the Netherlands, but then, expectations are often a bit off here.

In the foreground, blocking the view of the cemetary grounds behind it, is a large tower with a reflecting pool. To the right and left of the oblong pool are two long stone walls (Court of Honor)l etched with the names of the 1,722 Americans whose remains were never found.


These words are inscribed on the tower behind a bronze statue of a woman with three doves at her shoulder and a tree stump with one leafy branch to her right.

Notice the third stone back. Men of Jewish faith were buried under the Star of David. All others under the cross. I was surprised at how many stars were there - an even more personal war, may be, for those men, and a sad one.

Instead of straight rows, the crosses were placed in curves over the 65.5 acres. 8,301 Americans are buried there.

Among the many graves were fresh flowers laid at the base of many crosses. Americans are far away. I wondered who would be leaving flowers there, so fresh and cared for. When we got home later, we looked up the cemetary and read an article that said that when the cemetary began, there was a program for Dutch to adopt graves. They send photos and letters to the families of the lost and promised to take care of the graves forever. Every single grave was adopted and there were even stories of families handing down that responsibility to silblings and other family members as they could not longer go. Those actions speak for themselves. Wish so much anti-American sentiment worldwide, those are the actions, to me, that speak loudest.

From the flag pole we heard the bells eminating from the tower. It was beautiful. Having missed those tunes at our 4th celebratioon, we all stood quietly, contentedly listening to the sounds of America the Beautiful and other patriotic melodies.
Inside the tower, on the side of the graves was a small chapel. The tower was built in a special way to resonate. The visible roof above was a green metal and corrogated like cardboard. The echo created the feeling of being trapped in a bell tower, vibrating as they do in the cartoons. A bit loud for me, but intersting and beautiful to see with lights hanging down low on small wired and a large golden crown suspended in the center of them.

Today Arianna and I had a mother/daughter date, so we decided to risk getting a little wet and go rollarblading. She'd never rollarbladed before, but fits into Tiara's old skates perfectly, so we got all ready to go and started towards Geilenkirchen. Then it started pouring, so I headed in a different direction and ended up at Trips Burg where there are really nice paved, long, straight, flat trails, perfect for beginners. It was raining, but wasn't coming down too hard, so we went out. At first Arianna was just scooting along, walking on them more than skating. So, I told her to get into first position (ballet) and she did. Then I showed her how to move her feet out. Ten minutes later she was pushing me away. She didn't need me to help her or hold her hand. She fell three times and never wanted help getting up. She was great!


A teen sped by on rollarblades. I saw her coming and had Arianna turn around to watch. Her jaw dropped open and her eyes got big. She was so surprised that someone could go that fast. It's a challenge now. She wants to skate more. If you look at the larger version of this photo, you can see drips of water coming down her helmet. But, it wasn't very cold and the rain didn't bother us. After 40 minutes , Arianna got tired and wanted to go out for ice cream, so we headed back watching the baby cows along the way.

Flowers along the river where she skated. I walked along the bank taking pictures of flowers and cows. Arianna liked the independence of scooting along by herself.