Life: Idiotropic

If I could be crowned the Blueberry Queen without actually being the shape or color of a blueberry, I would gladly own the title. I love blueberries. I really love fresh blueberries. So if I can go pick them and eat as many as I'd like in the process, then I'm all for it.

Last week I found out about a little U-Pick place about 20 minutes away, so today after swimming and a rainstorm, we went, picked, ate, and, two hours later, came home with 11.6 Kilograms (25.52 pounds). (Paid 20.88Euros - ends up costing USD $1.28/pound!)

The farm itself is one of a long line of houses with a sign sticking out the sign letting us know there are berries behind those walls. The entire village is filled with growers who sell a myriad of berries along side other fruit and vegetables to anyone who stops by. This one though, is special in that it's the only one with the sign saying "zelf plukken - selbst Pfluecken." Meaning, of course, U-pick. It's writing in Dutch and German since Koeningsbusch is on the Dutch side of a border that's shifted back and forth over the years. "My grandpa started this farm over 40 years ago," explains the young girl, one of only two working there who speak English. And now her aunt owns it and the family all works together. "Do you get tired of blueberries?" "Oh no, we eat them all the time. I love them." And when I asked her how she likes them. "Fresh off the plant." Is there any other way?

My friend, Alice, was with us with her two little ones. And I, had my cumbersome 4 running along. Walking back to the field, I had strictly instructed my darlings only to pick the blue ones and put them into the bucket. "Don't eat them." But no, according to our "tour guide", we could all eat as many as we'd like. Yum. Don't have to tell me twice.

"Sophie is the one who organizes this thing." Sophie doesn't speak much English, but wears a red bucket hat that is hard to miss. She comes over to use and shows us the bush to start at, her eyes squinting part from sun and part from age, the wrinkles seeming to squish together at her eyes.

Sophie, in showing us how to pick, pointed to the green berries and shook her head no, picked a few blue ones and dropped all but one into my bucket. The last one went into her mouth and she smiled. You pick the entire bush - all the blue ones, she says. No green. Then, you move on to the next bush in the row. They are packed with berries and the blue ones fall off very easily. Some are tiny and some are the size of nickles, but they are all delicious. The kids have fun. Luci starts picking the green ones. She likes them because they're sour. Sophie walks by later, taps my arm, then shows that she's taking out the green ones from Luci's bucket and throwing them on the ground. "Kinder," I try to tell her in German, "gern greun." They like the green ones. She smiles, says "excuse me" in German, then laughs and walks to the next group.

Two hours later we walked back with 3 filled buckets and 5 filled tummies. Glad they only weighed the buckets.

Everyone was nice. One German lady to my left talked to me a little, then asked for the English words for "gesund" and "lekker." Healthy and delicious. Another German lady asked where I was from and if I'd make marmalada. No, I don't know how to make marmalade. Then her friend gave the recipe in German and she happily translated it for me. Add sugar and cook in a pot for 3 minutes, she said. "Only three minutes?" It didn't sound right. "Nur drie minuten" said her friend. "Three minutes." OK.

So, now, we've eaten a TON of blueberries. I have 12 filled quart-sized freezer bags of berries. And several containers in the fridge. If I can go back next week, I will.

No... there can not be too much of Maastricht. And, it never fails to inspire me creatively, awaken my curiosity, and to make me laugh, and laugh, and cock my head to the side in wonderment at all sorts of little things. Today was no exception. Of course, I admired the old buildings, noticed some wall plaques and details I hadn't seen before. I had a delicious coffee and bought some too-good-to-share chocolates... but today, the oddities were abundant and my friend and I observed more fashion don'ts than do's. As if getting dressed blind was in style. It was all humorous.

The not so humorous thing was the not so bright moment that I tried to adjust the quality of the photos on Tiara's camera (I didn't bring mine), and instead, reformatted the card and erased all the photos of the day. So, this coffee photo was one of the very few I took before we left. What you missed...

... a garbage truck collecting garbage on a narrow road. Not strange? Well, imagine a garbage truck about 1/3 the size of it's American counterpart. (Smart modification for tiny Dutch streets) Got that mental image? Ok. Now, paint it a solid pale pink. Smiling? And put two large whiskered Dutch men in it. One very large with a big belly large enough that it is a wonder he could fit in or get out of his little pink garbage truck. Oh yes... and he had tattoos. Yep... that's a photo I would have liked to have. Too funny.

... the others were an odd assortment of mannequin photos... one set were wearing black garbage sacks. One set had a sale sign taped to the chest and shopping bags hanging like a skirt. Some were just wrapped in random bits of plastic colored streamers. My memory fails me now... but there were about 5. All different. All strange. Too funny.

So, today was good, but hot. And now my home is a large brick oven especially upstairs where I'm sweating here typing. Yuck. I don't like to be sticky. Feels like Florida.

Time flies...

And with my camera on the fritz, I'm not taking as many pictures to mark each day as special... of course, yes, I have stolen Tiara's a few times and have a couple pix, but not many. It's sad.

This last week was filled with catch up time, cleaning, visiting with friends, swim lessons 4 mornings for Arianna and Luci, two BBQ with friends this weekend, and a bout of sun and warmer weather reminiscent of our first summer here when I whined incessantly of living in a over sized brick oven. Might be dusting off our portable air conditioning unit tomorrow before tempers fly.

Though my little darlings do something silly every day to make me laugh or hide in embarrassment, the one quote that I can still remember is from Elise who (forgive the potty quote), called me excitedly from the bathroom, "Mommy, I pooped the Eiffel Tower!!!" That's certainly not one you hear every day, is it?

The other event... a sprained arm a la Arianna... result of too much play and an unforeseen fall at a party. And an MD appt for me... found out that my two (minor) medical issues both cause irregular/poor sleep. That coupled with my two youngest who still want to wake me every night make a full night of sleep not only impossible, but not at all restful. So, I'm taking sleeping pills and feeling very Hollywood. Sleeping pills are those strange things you see in the movies... not things for normal people. But here I am... thinking I'm normal... and feeling woozy. But, I wake up feeling actually rested. Wow. Who'd a thunk?

22 July

For the last three days Arianna has come up to me asking if her not very loose tooth is ready to come out. "No, not yet," I'll say. "When," she asks. "When it's ready - soon, " I reply. It varies only slightly. This morning she asked again. It was slightly wigglier, but not much. "May be in a couple days," I said this time. She wiggled it some more. The I left. I had to meet Kirk on the base to get a new ID card. We were sitting there waiting quietly in a very small packed room. I was partly listening to the quiet conversations going on in German and French. Then my cell phone rang. "Mom." It was Tiara. "Arianna lost her tooth and when she was washing it, it fell down the sink and now she's crying and wants to talk to you." This is the kid who lost her special tooth fairy coin down the school toilet. My solution: " I'm sorry, but it's gone. Draw a picture of it and write a note to the tooth fairy and she'll understand." Then Kirk walked in. He heard the conversation and took the phone. "Have you run the water any more? Don't" When we got home later, our two 12" tall yellow rubber duckies were sitting in the sink and 4 hair bands were fasted around the handle and the faucet, so no way, no how, would anyone dare turn the water on. And, super dad saved the day taking apart the sink and fishing out that tiny white tooth from amongst the muck. Yeah! The tooth fairy came. Money was left. And Arianna has a pretty new smile.

23 July

Tonight Kirk and I went to the Dutch premiere of the newest Batman movie. It was Heineken Icone night, so with each entry we got a bag of Crokie chips and a Heineken. I don't like beer. Our friend who came with us doesn't like beer. Kirk had three. And the movie played on and on and on... with only one intermission. I've heard some people that liked it, but not me. It was brutal, horribly violent, sick, and disturbing. Children - of any age (even mine) - should not see this one. Ever. On the flip side, the special effects were cool and Heath Ledger was absolutely transformed as the Joker. That was part of the problem, I think. He was too real - too believable... and that is just too scary.


24 July

A sunny day and I'm cleaning the girl's room today attacking the dress up bins trying to weed through, try on, access, and get rid of the unusable or too small things. Elise loves the fabrics the most, wrapping herself completely in them at times. It's fun. The others had gotten bored by this time and had gone in to play legos until I filled the little pool with water.

Today brought a occasionally sunny, frequently torrential day in Maastricht where we met our Brussels friends for lunch, shopping, and a visit. Probably easily one of my favorite cities, it didn't hurt my feelings at all to go again. It never gets old and I always see something new.

We ducked in and out of stores in cadence to the off and on downpours and hot bouts of sun admiring the beauty of the buildings and hunting for a bargain or two.

The one rather wonderful discovery was a coffee shop that I'd found on my last trip, but hadn't been able to try. Stopping for just a coffee and a snack, we ended up enjoying marvelous sandwiches there and relaxed for longer than planned until the rain allowed us just enough time to run to the gelateria before its next burst. Casual and uneventful, really, other than the 45 minutes we drove frustrated in circles looking for parking that didn't seem to exist - a first for me having always found a spot in the same garage the past two years. The little girls enjoyed seeing their friend Marlene and we got to turn the table on our friends, playing tour guide to them in a city they'd never seen even though they are both European and travel often. It was fun and I, of course, got to "snap" a few more photos... after all, I have been called the "Snapdragon!"

Photos: 1) the girls one of the pedestrian bridges. 2) the view of that bridge and the Maas River from the other pedestrian bridge. 3) a window with raindrops and sunflowers 4) Kirk, Elise, and Luci 5) the old Rathaus in the market square

Interesting how things change. Two years ago I went to Amsterdam and couldn't get enough. It was absolutely magical to me then and I yearned for days when I could come to this city alone to sit on the corner of a canal bridge with a notebook and my camera to soak up the atmosphere then promising myself that it wouldn't be long 'til I saw it all again.

This morning I took the train to Amsterdam for the day and though it is still a city that I do love - a city where I could happily spend days walking, photographing, and observing from street corners, it's lost that initial magic. Now I've found other cities.

There are many parts of Amsterdam - busy parts and quiet parts... shopping and art... quiet views and crazy tourists... purity and obscenity. We began at the train station, impressive on it's own, but spewing throngs of tourists and business people alike from its doors in a mad dash to get somewhere, anywhere. And along the main street we pushed through in a rabid zig-zag past junk stores, a sex museum, and the masses of humanity stopping briefly for a flavorless sandwich to keep us going. There I saw a women I later (inspired by the art I saw) thought would make a beautiful painting... her wrinkled dark face wrapped in a colorful scarf. Dark layered clothing. And a stick she held tightly perched on her shoulder to carry her bags. I later saw her again at the train station as we were leaving. She was the same except for a single lavender mum she held in the same hand that held the dark broken stick. Interesting lady. I would have loved to hear her story.

From there we reached the large square where a sea monster and Darth Vador stood on pedestals in front of Madame Tussauds hoping for tourist's coins. Just behind that square and a beautiful shopping mall housed in what looks more like a castle, lies the canal ring - my favorite part of Amsterdam. The rest, really, is touristy shopping areas and museums... but the canal ring seems quieter to me. Quiet and serene - as long as you watch out for bicycles.

Winding slowly through the canal ring, peeking into bead shops and cheese shops, a bakery boasting a 50 year old recipe (funny to hear... 50 years isn't at all old - especially here), and a shop full of beer my husband would enjoy, we stopped here and there admiring windows, canals lined with houseboats, the blooms crawling up the sides of old crooked buildings, and the funny hooks up top that allow people to move large furniture items not up the narrow stairwells, but through the over sized windows.

Eventually, we made it to the museum quarter - today's destination of choice. I hadn't been before and my mom wanted to see the masters. We began at the Rijks - still undergoing renovations, the observable collection is smaller than it should be, but still impressive. Wow. The hand painted Delft ceramics are amazing. It's such a testament to the artist' ability to see such depth and texture created with using only layers of one color. Two large doll houses stood behind glass - one much taller than me with a step stool that would have allowed access to its rooms. They both had real silver and real Delft pottery - real linens and perfectly scaled furniture - all exact replication of their larger counterparts. The art itself interested me more than I'd expected. I love impressionist art. That is what generally moves me. Rembrandt is not a painter that I've ever enjoyed. But today, though the style isn't something that I would hang in my home, I was struck by the perfection in detail and texture that Rembrandt achieved. His fabrics and laces are so intricately done, it seems as if one should be able to reach out and touch them. The shading of the folds, the sheen of the satins, the delicate brocade patterns... all absolutely perfect.

In contrast to the high art inside was this rather chatty bubble blowing Brit, clad in a very heavy, shiny angel costume with his red lipstick and yellow teeth shining through his silver painted face. I took a photo and then he commented to the crowd that this was his job and if we are to take a photo, then do drop a coin in or he might starve. "Well, we don't want any scrawny angels, do we?" I said. And dropped a coin in his bucket giving me the freedom to be a little more obnoxious with my picture taking as I snapped a few more and a closeup as well. "Americans sure like to get their money's worth." Yes. I do.

From there, though hungry, we pressed on past a beautiful playground and small lake just a couple blocks away to the Van Gogh museum. Wow. Beautiful, touching, melancholy genius. This museum is done extraordinarily well, probably because it is able to focus solely on one artist. Set up with rooms sequentially placed in chronological order, the beginning of the room has the date period on the wall with a brief history of Van Gogh's life during that period and how that influenced his art. His early works, done in Holland, are unrecognizable as Van Gogh's without even a hint of the color and distinctive brush strokes that we see instantly as his. Those are dark - too dark. And not very pretty. Each room gets better, brighter, more fun, more recognizably him while his life and history get sadder, and he dies thinking himself a failure whose lost any talent he once had - that was the room with my two favorites - painted at a time he thought himself worthless. That struck me. There's a life lesson in that.

The other interesting thing was this - Millet had done a series of 5 paintings which Van Gogh copied. Not exact copies, of course, but he took the same sketches and did the same paintings in his own style. Two sat together on one wall - the same sketch, same subject, same placement withing the canvas, but such different styles and colors. One by Van Gogh. The other by Millet. Amazing. And how often are we discouraged to copy. But that is how we learn. So to see a master copying another master says something, I think.

Starving (or at least we thought we were starving), with feet quite in revolt by now, we quickly walked back towards the train station stopping for a delicious lunch and an unnecessary, but decadent cheesecake at a hotel restaurant in the canal district. YUM! Italian with a Dutch twist, my lasagna was not typical, not anything I would have expected, but also delicious. Surprisingly full of flavor. I wish I would have take notes then. It was sooo good, but I don't remember exactly what was in it.

See the reflection on the table? That was part of my view from my table... a beautiful old building with a wall plaque laid into the brick and geraniums overflowing from their box under the large white window just behind us.

The train ride there and back was extremely easy and fairly uneventful except for the children - Dutch and British - that rode near enough to us for us to hear and enjoy their antics. Mine were at home, so it was fun to hear others talking at those unreasonable loud child volumes knowing that they weren't mine and I didn't need to worry. They were cute though...

And then there's the Kiosk. A kiosk here is usually a small hut that serves snacks, drinks, and reading material for the ride. Usually they are place permanently at the train stations. This one sprouted legs. He wore a large "backpack" looking thing filled with coffee, a nozzle looping around to the front where he could reach it. The sign on the back showed drink and snack prices. Either side of the pack was a long stack of cups held like those at a water cooler. In front he wore a cooler just wide enough to allow him to walk down the aisles without knocking him over. It was full of snacks. And so our Kiosk with legs came up the aisle offering coffee and snacks to the passengers. Some got coffee. It was funny to see him pull out a cup, fill it with coffee, add the sugar or cream requested, and stand there in the aisle delicately stirring it with a stirring stick for an unusually long period before handing it to the customer. I would have loved to get a clear photo, but too often he was standing sideways facing a customer stirring and I felt way too obnoxious with fellow passengers watching this crazy tourist to snap one then. Just picture it... and don't forget the navy and orange blocked shirt that said "kiosk" in about 4 places.

Random Stuff...

First... today the traffic was slowed in front of our house because there was a spill of some kind. I don't know what spilled... don't really care. But what was interesting was the process by which it was cleaned. These guys were out there for well over an hour - may be even two with one big truck and the little fire van. Black powder was sprinkled liberally over the center of the road where the spill was, then the guys swept it into very neat piles near the sidewalk - meticulously. Nothing hurried. Nothing sloppy. The man by the firetruck? You can see in his hand a little wand with a reflector on both sides. Red and Green. He stood there the entire time directing traffic and inching up the firetruck as needed to keep up with the sweepers. When it was all swept into piles, they went back to where they'd started and began shovelling the piles into the back of a truck, sweeping more, shoveling, with one guy walking down the center of the street with a blower blowing the tiny granules back towards the brooms. The number on the truck - 112 - is the 911 of Germany.

Next: A German chocolate aisle. Before we move I really need to just walk the grocery store with my camera knowing that I'm leaving the country and it doesn't matter what they think. It is amazing. Chocolate is everywhere, but here, on this entire aisle, you'll find nothing but chocolate. Imagine - an entire grocery store aisle - both sides - walking down it surrounded by chocolate. The left side is the not so great stuff. The cheap stuff. The American stuff. The right side is pure heaven. Lindt, Sarotti, Lubeck, Tiamo... flavors from all over the world. Probably at least 10 different coffee flavored chocolates. Mmmmmmm. This aisle can be dangerous.

Phantasialand is a big amusement park that Tiara's been wanting to go to since, well, the first day she heard about it probably about 2 years ago if not earlier. So, today (finally), I got made good on an old promise and we spent the day there together.

It was kind of a birthday thing. And she wanted a friend along but I wasn't going to pay for a gazillion friends to go and if she invited one, then others would be upset/mad/jealous that they weren't invited (8th grade girls are sooo challenging), so she was smart and invited Tyler, a friend of hers and the son of one of my close friends. He's nice. He's not obnoxious like most boys his age. So they could just have fun without any of the teen weirdness.

Phantasialand was fun. We managed to get 11 (Tiara did 12) rides in 9 hours with a lunch break and some getting lost included, so that's not bad.

I had fun and felt kinda like part of the gang instead of the boring adult chaperon, after all, I was the one who wanted to go on the "scary" black Mamba when both Tiara and Tyler were too scared to go.

But, as young as I'd like to be, I learned that

1) A full day of amusement park fun is quite exhausting. At one point I really just wanted to sit and relax a bit - just long enough for them to stand in one line and go on one ride... but did they let me, no. I ended up standing in line watching Tiara do the flipping stomach rocking ride that both Tyler and I agreed was nauseating enough to watch let alone be strapped into. Tiara is now better known as Queen of the Iron Stomachs (my former amusement park title, sadly taken away when I reached the ripe ol' age of 30 and lost the stomach for Disneyland tea cup style rides).

2) Standing in line is a lot more fun when you're 13 and even more fun when you're 13 and standing in a large group of your peers. Standing in line with two shy teens almost a third my age trying to make conversation is, well, kinda boring. Not that they were boring. Tyler chose to keep conversation from lagging by counting Tiara's "blond moments" (she got to 21 by the way - and he got to 7) and bugging me about the French. I like everything French/France and he doesn't. But what does a 13 year old know?

3) Making out in line is frankly, disgusting. Yuck. Gross. Eeeew. In one particular line we were behind one disgusting couple who needed a small hotel room and may be some mouthwash. Happily, the line split and we went a different way just to get stuck behind an even more disgusting couple. Eeew, ick, gross. And it's really hard to avoid when you're crammed together in really tight lines without personal space.

4) Amusement park food almost always looks better than it tastes. We unanimously voted for Chinese food (what were we thinking? Amusement park Chinese in Germany!) thinking that we would have some choice in the matter. Tiara wanted rice. I think we had all though that rice with some meat/veggie thing would be good. Nope. Chinese meant really greasy egg rolls or noodles. We got noodles. Filling, but flavorless.

But, we had a great time and we got to do a lot of spinny upside down roller coaster rides that made Tiara and I scream and Tyler, who is a boy and therefore cannot scream lest his boy-card be taken away, moan. After 9 hours of that we were all (yes, even the kids) ready to go home.

That happy-go-lucky era of the milkman is not dead. It just moved to Germany where your milk man, butcher, and baker all deliver. We have BoFrost too which is a lot like Schwans. And yes, I am serious, the butcher delivers to your door if you'd like. Twice a week I'll hear a very loud cling-a-lingggggg and sure enough, out my window is the meat truck swinging open it's large side door across the street, slicing deli meats in 100 gram portions and portioning out fresh pork roasts and steaks to my neighbors. Talk about fresh. It was probably walking yesterday.

The photos above are of my bus stop, a frequent convenience stop for weary travelers in need of a toilet, and, in this case, food. This truck is one of those mixed trucks with a bit of everything and fresh eggs too which are also delivered here. I am not sure how this trailer flagged him down, but they both pulled over. The trailer driver got out with his wallet ready, the trucks side door flipped up, and the transaction when quickly. By the time the hungry shopper was back in his seat, the door was down and the food truck was on its way again.

Wish I would have gotten Arianna's face in this one... would have been a good photo... oh well... traditions are nice, comforting... and when the weather allows, we treat ourselves to a coffee and slice of cake at a wonderful cafe in Immendorf each Sunday after church. There's a lake with turtles that keep the kids happy, horses they pick grass and feed, and a playground. Top that off with 60 cent cones of delicious home made ice cream and you have yourself a perfect afternoon where the kids will play happily for hours while the adults sit back on the patio with delicious latte macchiatos and thick slices of mouthwatering German cake. Today was no exception. There was a free meal after church, but even after that, we needed the peace and quiet of our Immendorf retreat. A macchiato later, we were all relaxed. And, even in their pretty taffeta dresses, the kids still managed to climb the tree house ladder, swing on the swings, and build castles in the sandbox.

This afternoon, once the most forboding clouds gave way to spots of blue thus raising our hopes of a somewhat dry afternoon, we hopped in the van and made our way to Maastricht for a day of shopping and playing tourist. A perfect day to enjoy the July sales and walk the historic streets, we saw our share of strange today. Here's a photo montage of the fun...

A few days ago I asked Tiara what she wanted to do on her birthday. My motherly mind was thinking of something along the lines of a nice lunch out and a shopping trip to one of the nicer cities near us like Aachen or Maastricht. May be a water park with a friend... something that we don't do every day.

Her now teen mind had other ideas. "Sleep in and play with Rudy."

No, Rudy is not the hunky boy down the street. Rudy is a dog. A beautiful, well-behaved Golden Retriever to be exact (much better than a hunky boy any day of the week, I think). And, he is temporarily living in our village before he moves to Texas with his family.

So, Tiara got her wish. She slept in until 11 and had her favorite tomato cheese bread from Immendorf and a berry smoothy for breakfast. We all went to Il Genio's for a birthday lunch and then she went over to Rudy's house to play for a couple hours before coming home for her choice of dinner: chicken bulgoki ala Kirk. Berry yogurt cake from Immendorf for dessert... presents... and the day was over.

She's probably right with her choices. She's shopping now (alone) with her grandma and in a couple weeks I'll take her shopping (again, alone). So, she had a relaxing birthday without the stress of a big shopping trip with the little sisters. Smart girl at thirteen, I think.

(Drizzle? Well... a few months ago, Tiara was practicing her French in the back seat and I heard her say drizzle. What??? Drizzle. What does that mean? 13. Really? Yeah. Drizzle? No, drizzle. I wasn't hearing the difference between my drizzle and her drizzle until she slowed it down - a lot. And then it was the French word for 13 which I would type here now, but I don't know how to spell it - sounds something like tray - zah. Tiara doesn't say drizzle anymore when she speaks French, but I still like to hassle her - especially now that she's officially - drizzle.)

Today we went to a huge indoor water park where Arianna and Luci discovered the joy of the water slide and Tiara and her friend did the same - just the big version. Elise' favorite was the lazy river floating on a gigantic inner tube. Luci and Arianna loved that too. The food was good. The place was nice. But, oh, after 4 hours of that I wanted to lock myself up in a thick walled box of silence for a year. The continually high volume of noise drove me crazy.

One silly thing happened as I was standing above the lazy river looking down for Tiara and Jenna to take their picture. A couple of German kids saw me with the camera and asked me to take their picture too! So, I pointed the camera and they smiled and posed! Here they are.

Wit is lost to me at the moment. Just not mentally there, but I do want to show off my little beauties and let you know that under no circumstances are you ever to get stuck with me in a labyrinth unless you have a months supply of food and water and probably a good hefty roll of toilet paper. Really, for someone who thinks that they are somewhat intelligent, I am pathetic when it comes to steering my way out of underpruned hedges. I think this is going to give me nightmares... Little Shop of Horrors becomes The Hedge Unleashed.

And it all started out peacefully... church, a nice drive through the rolling hills of South Limburg on a sunny day (Sun, here in Germany? where did it go? Haven't seen it since Sunday.) We taxied, 15 people in three vehicles, over hill and dale and around countless beautiful old half-timbered farmhouses and arrived at a lovely 300 year old mill, home of a wonderful pannekoeken restaurant where the adults could sit and eat peacefully while the kids played at the playground. Ahh... peace and a gyro pannekoeken. Couldn't ask for more.

From there we road tested the intelligence of my Garmin pitted against the TomTom of a friend to get to Drilanderpunt in Vaals. My Garmin was the clear superior with a much better, much more efficient route, but I didn't complain. TomTom took us down tinier than one way roads that were quite picturesque and no one got carsick on the turns.

We've been to Drilanderpunt before - the mysterious Dutch hill where Germany, Belgium, and The Netherlands all join. The picture above it is us - in three countries. Pretty fun.

So we went up the tower. Elise, Luci, and I in the elevator. Arianna, Tiara, and my mom up the stairs that wind around up the outside of the tower. Arianna, about halfway up remembered that she is terrified of heights, but my mom, wearing a skirt on a windy day walking up mesh stairs, wasn't going to go back down that way, so Arianna was stuck and eventually made it. Tiara - lost her flip flop.

I was at the top looking for the other half of my family when people told me that Tiara had lost a shoe. So she comes up embarrased because everyone was staring at her feet and even Dutch people had tried to tell her, in Dutch, that she was clearly missing a shoe.

So I asked the not so obvious question: "So where's your shoe now?"

"I don't know," she replied, "I think it's either in Belgium or Germany." That's something you just can't say every day.

She did get it back when we got down so she could run through the maze with two shoes.

The maze. Ugh. Took an hour an a half and that was with help finally from someone in the tower who watched us and shouted directions as we walked along, my mother with her purse in the air so he could see where we were, and me running my fingers along the hedge to make sure I kept to the right one. Clearly not a proud moment. Tiara and Tyler, who got tired of us pretty quickly, took off on their own and made it out a full half hour ahead of us. And we had a map!

Tiara with Tyler on the bridge that we couldn't find that leads to the exit of the maze... missing shoe... Luci in front of Belgium... Elise in front of Germany...