Life: Idiotropic

A computer would be better as I am freer to be prolific when typing, but that is sitting in a box in our van while we swelter in a third floor apartment listening to the cascading water of the pool and snatches of unintelligible conversations from other open windows thinking if we’re hot here in Paris, oh, we’ll absolutely DIE in Spain.

This morning we played a symphony out of sync, bodies in motion anxious and hurried while emotions clung to minutes drug out, held on by thread, suspended in time for as long as we could hold on. Kirk was up at 5 to load the truck and van, fuel them and clean them for our drive. I arranged the odds and ends lying about, packed a few more things, and got the girls together. We were at Tinny’s by 9. It felt strange pulling up in front of her house instead of pulling down our driveway. Three large trucks were already parked outside what was our house just a day before unloading furniture and boxes for the new tenant. It’s too fast I wanted to drive away with the illusion that our empty house would remain that way, ours and empty, waiting for our return.

Tinny had her tiny kitchen table turned around and expanded set with her best china with pink roses. She made fresh coffee and set out prepared plates of schinkenwurst, ham, broetchen and sliced bread, cheese, and 4 donuts - just for the girls. It felt too formal. Nice, but I prefer the impromptu unset snacks when time stood still. This morning Tiara and I sat picking at our food, eating, but teary. It’s hard to eat while crying. The girls talked together in English and Tinny just listed, as she normally does, absorbing it and seeming to hold onto those moments, the last time we’d frustuck together for a while. I showed her photos I’m putting into an album for her. That broke the sadness long enough for some smiles and laughter.

I’ve been hearing about the guest book for the last week. So we pulled the patio table and chairs into the garden where the children played so we could sit together and I could sign. Tiara sat on the bench alone waiting for Charlotte and Gabby. I made the little girls sign the book first dreading my turn to put pen to paper.

This is easy. I can ramble on more that you’d care to read. But I hate signing cards. No matter what the occasion. And a guest book - this guest book - it’s just too hard. Her family translates the English words written on the right side, types them for her, then glues it onto the book onto the left side of each page.

Lump in throat. Searching to find the words that can somehow quantify what Tinny has meant for our family here. Teardrops on the pages as I write. Tante plays with the girls, then we talk. Avoidance. Smiling, talking about the girls and how big they are. Can’t say in German now exactly what I’d like to say, to express the gratitude, the feeling of closeness, the feeling of family.

Tiara’s friends have come, Charlotte with a flat tire and broken sunglasses. They’re on one last walk by the windmills, but don’t take any pictures. They’re quiet too now. Sitting together. Talking a little. Picking at the grass.

Kirk is ready. The girls are oblivious to good-bye. But. I’m not ready. Tiara’s not ready. Please. Not yet.

But it’s time, so we go trying to be strong, then falling apart for that last hug. Tante and I are crying, hugging, trying to smile, crying more and hugging more. “Ich liebe Dich, Tante.” It’s all I can say, but I know she understands all that means. She always did even when I spoke no German. Somehow we could look at each other and understand. She hugs the girls and me again. Charlotte and Gabby are crying on the sidewalk next to Tante. Tante’s crying. Tiara and I are crying. Kirk pulls away in his truck and we have to follow. Can’t look back though Tiara and I both want to. We sob all the way down the 221 to the autobahn.

“Do you want to put on some music, Tiara? The Fray?”

She won’t put on the songs she likes. She doesn’t want her favorite songs to be associated with this sad moment. We finally chose Jim Brickman’s By Heart album and sob all the way to the border.

Belgium and France aren’t the same. We didn’t live there. It’s easier now driving through these countries where we aren’t leaving so much behind. Stopping once for gas, once for snacks, stuck in traffic that ends up being slow only for something on the other side of the highway - a turned semi that backs up traffic on the other side for miles in the hot sun. 10.40 toll in France.

We drove through Emanonville - a absolutely beautiful town with a chateau and old statues - in France north of Paris on the way to Serris. I want to go back there. It was killing me to be there and not have even 30 seconds to stop for a photo or two.

The girls didn’t know about Disney - the little ones at least. Tiara looked at my calendar and found out weeks ago. I drove by about 6 large Mickey Mouse signs without Elise noticing one. Kirk didn’t have as much luck in his truck. Both girls saw them and figured it out.

Our hotel in Serris is old, but nice and has Disney tickets and a free shuttle, so that made it all easy. Misha was happy to be in a small place where she couldn’t get lost. We rested a bit then walked to one of Europe’s largest shopping malls to the Place al Toscane for a dinner that I cooked. Ordered Korean BBQ hoping for something along the lines of the Bulgoki we got in OKC, and got a couple small plates of veggies and sauces and three large plates of raw meat. Huh. Not what I’d envisioned. After a long drive on a hot emotional day, I really didn’t want to sit on the patio of a nice restaurant and cook my family’s meal. We did wait a bit... hoping we were wrong, but no. I stood up and cooked up the girl’s chicken and steak while Kirk ate, then he finished cooking so I could eat. Finished up with ice cream from a stand. French vanilla that wanted to be French vanilla but wasn’t quite there and cappuccino that was a cup of coffee on a cone - delicious.

Hot and tired. Emotionally drained. 11pm and Kirk and Elise are the only ones sleeping. The rest finally sleep and I listen to a baby screaming across the complex for half the night.

Photos: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=126229&id=674507268&l=5cf91330b9

My last full day in Germany wasn't spent drinking wine and hugging friends. It was mostly errands around the base and in town. Snapping just a few more photos, then settling in to pack and prepare for the days ahead.

I didn't even get a chance to see Tante Tinny which was profoundly sad, but may be spared us a few moments of sadness.

We did make one last run for some good German ice cream at a place with an entire menu of spaghetti eis. They were out of their chocolate spaghetti eis, so I got this one without the "noodles," but with chocolate ice cream, lots of fresh strawberries, raspberries, blueberries, and red currants, and white chocolate flakes (the parmesan cheese). Delicious and filling. I'll miss berries in Spain. Who am I kidding... I'll miss this all.

Both Thursday and Friday the packers were at our house from early to late working, packing, and loading these two big trucks full of almost everything that I own - everything in our house.

It only took two days. The weekend was spent cleaning and sorting the random things left over - cleaning supplies, odds and ends.

Today I walked through my house for the last time. Seeing it as I did the day I moved in, empty and echoing. Before excited about decorating and filling a new home. Now in tears remembering all the wonderful times we've had there. It's not just a house. It's a community. It's a neighborhood with wonderful German neighbors who have accepted us and welcomed us. It's Tinny who I can't look at without tearing up.

In 36 hours now I'm driving to Paris. List of errands tomorrow includes buying Kleenex. My throat hurts just thinking about it.

Sunny and blue. Light breeze. Clouds over, light rain. Then sunny and blue again.

This is Kirmes weekend - my last sadly. So I've watched faithfully with camera poised as the parade passes by. Each year the same list of characters in their feathered hats march by. This year they all seem a bit more jovial. Laughing more, smiling, talking amongst their friends lining the street to watch the tradition continue. Tiara peers from the office window to catch sight of the queen just to see the dress she's wearing. The littles sit on the window ledge impressed by the real "queen and king" as if they were just as important as any other international royalty.

The music plays. There are some new band members - younger ones, shorter than the rest, but playing with just as much gusto.

Tante entertains the family with kuchen. An aprikosen fladen and a marzipan kuchen from the Becher bakerei and an erdbeer kuchen she baked herself. A goblet of whipped cream and plain German coffee - a little bitter for my taste, but good with cake and who could refuse Tante?

Kurt in his best clothes still carrying his cigar - as much a part of him as his right hand, I think. A permanent fixture like a teacher with her coffee mug. He puffs and smiles. 74 and still going.

Marita shows me the black paper invitations she's hand written in gold ink. 24 Juni. Her 70's birthday party will be a "Ladies Night" at the new Mercatur Hotel. She shows me asking if it looks nice. And so sad that I won't be here to join them. Ist slim. Ya. Ist immer slim. Moving is difficult on all sides.

The house is oddly quiet. 1 and 3 have left for sleepovers with friends. Luci went through multiple hugs and kisses before leaving. Arianna's at a friends house for the afternoon. Just Elise and us and a pot of minestrone soup. A moment of rest before I pack and clean once more.

And then just one more piece of cake with this lady who means so much to us. The girls have brot mit buter then go and play. And we talk and talk. My broken German is enough. And we laugh until our eyes water - a little jovial, a little sad. Her smile is infectious. Work will wait. Time stops in these moments. We'll cling to these special moments keeping them fresh in our minds even when we're countries apart.

My littlest girl graduated today from her pre-k program at the International Preschool here. She and her friends danced and sung for about 40 minutes before breaking for food and cake and playtime with friends. She absolutely glowed, smiling her biggest dimpled smile, waving at me during the songs, and watching for the faces of all her family members in the audience - quite the ham.

Next year she'll start grade 1 at the British school in Valencia. Such a big girl. I don't know who will cry more - her or me. She's still my koala.

On Monday we finally got out official orders. We should be on the road in 13 days. It was Monday that it become horribly real and harder to breathe. Excitement will find me in Spain. Now it's just loss and stress, dropping things of the list of "want to do" and throwing myself at the list of "need to do."

Seems "catch-up" is the game I'm destined to play. And here too. Have some beautiful photos from the last week or two. Will post as I have time - when I can once again breathe without the weight of this move holding me down.

Tomorrow I will add the photo - not a great photo as it was taken in a rush, but a photo nonetheless of a bird - a real, live, wild bird... IN MY HOUSE.

Because somehow it got in, possibly because I forgot to latch the window yesterday after jumping through it and so in the night the wind blew it open and it stayed open - wide open - all night. And I have no idea where bird was hiding all morning as all 5 of us girls scurried around the house loudly.

I think it was waiting for some peace. Arianna and Luci had gone. Elise and I were on our way out the door. Tiara had just reached for the key to open the front door. And from the slauchthaus, I heard the blood curdling scream followed by hysterical crying and the approaching pounding of feet. "A bird!!!" Tiara yells red faced and panicked. I didn't see her again. She went out the back of the house refusing to come back in while I went inside with Elise to figure out what to do.

I rounded the corner from the dining room to look upstairs and there it sat - right where Misha usually sits on the top step near the playroom just as if he belonged there. A moment later he flew into the playroom - great choice for me because it has the lowest ceilings in the whole house.

The bird chase probably only lasted about 5 minutes. It flew to each high point, then crouched down in a corner under the heater. I opened the window wide for it to fly out and tried to push it gently with an old puzzle board. So it flew up to the wrong side of the window and kept flying into it. Tiara was watching from the bus stop.

The poor thing was terrified. Elise was worried, but cheering me on. I was worried I'd be stuck there all day chasing a bird around my house.

Then he flew into our children's pie cabinet and hid behind the curtain. Cornered. So I grabbed a hand towel, reached in, picked him up, talked to him a second because I'd never held a wild bird like that and he was so beautiful with bright blue eyes, and then set him on the outside ledge of our window and watched him fly off into the closest tree. Poor guy. I think he's scarred for life.

When Tiara got home she asked me if I saw whether it was a girl or a boy. "No, why???!?!"

"If it was a girl, she could have built a nest and laid eggs!"

My other three all cheered and hugged me and thanked me for "saving the bird." It's probably good the middles weren't home. They would have wanted to keep it.

And... in other news, the first grade had their Vocabulary Parade today where they dressed up as their word, made a poster, and told the word and definition into the microphone on stage. Luci chose "habitat" and dressed like the Arctic tundra pulling a block of "ice" behind her with a polar bear and three penguins.

The girls had Sports Day today and competed in a bunch of different activities to the pretty cool to the fairly lame. I mean, truly, there is nothing graceful about running with a blue rubber chicken between your legs and one of the races did just that. After a while, the "running with various objects between your legs" contests get old and you just need another sport. The tug 'o war was fun and the long jump. Arianna is a really good runner - athletic all around, really, she does well at everything. Luci's a bit more dainty about sports, but still does a good job. And Elise just gives her all to everything quite proud of herself helping Arianna with the tug 'o war. AND... yearbooks went out TODAY! Which means it's OVER!

The days run together now in a ghostly blur now with so little time before we go, so instead of being my normal verbose self, I'll keep these short and let the photos speak for themselves.

This morning we spent in conversation at Funda's house learning to make her version of Kisir which is a bit spicier than Senay's. She also served Turkish coffee, tea, fresh strawberries, manti with yogurt sauce, a sweet pastry with nuts, and a break filled with potatoes. Delicious. Funda has travelled extensively and has lived in Naples, so her home is a reflexion of Europe with pottery, glass, and furniture from all over. It's beautiful.

Our evening was spent talking, laughing, and saying goodbyes amongst our IWC board members at Interni. My Italian friends surprised me with two beautiful bags from Lori's collection which meant even more since they are from a friend. I feel so blessed to have been a part of this. The women that I worked with on the board are all such amazing people. We've accomplished a lot together.

Made these with a friend today... love them. I'd forgotten how easy they are to make.

I essentially used the Joy of Cooking recipe, though when I make them again, I won't do the raspberry ones. Those are just too sweet for me, but I like the tartness of the apricot. Next time I'll make a poppy seed filling (crushed poppy seeds with a bit of sugar and may be a bit of white wine), and use that in some with or without the apricot. I think a nice mixture of chopped nuts (like a baklava nut mix) would be delicious as well.

The dough is extremely easy to work with though and takes little effort. Just make sure you chill it at least an hour. Sooner and you'll have cracking dough (which is what happened with my first batch). Thankfully, the ugly ones taste just as good.

With 30 days until our move, we all have our "lists." Lists of things to do, things to pack, things to toss, things so see, places to go...

On my littles' list was the Valkenier, a small amusement park in The Netherlands that caters entirely to little people. Not my cup of tea really - I love roller coasters and big rides, but don't like the crowds. Still, we had fun anyway and enjoyed some time just to play. It is nice when even Elise, my youngest, can go on every single ride. Their favorites were too many to count, but the clear winner was the roller coaster of apples with a decent drop that made it fun even for me. The haunted house was funny - not scary, but the kids liked it anyway. And the water slide was a hit though the lines were not worth the 5 second thrill. They left without complaint at the end of the day knowing they wouldn't be back, but we'll find something even more fun in Spain.

When I got back, we heard the tractors for a while. Since Friday there's been a fairly consistent stream of antique tractors driving to and fro along the B56 in front of our house. On Friday I'd lost count at 6 old tractors towing campers. Today I saw 3, but at least 10 more old tractors. Yesterday we saw a tractor hauling a long trailer full of people sitting around a narrow table set with beer. It's odd, but it amuses me to see just how many uses for an old tractor these people can come up with. I've seen them as tow trucks, carnival floats... it's endless. So, here's my theory. This place where I live is actually tractor heaven. Really. All the good tractors come here when they "die" knowing that they will be continually cared for, driven, and partied in for all time. Can't plow a field? It's OK. If you can haul a few bags of helium balloons, then all is well.

Random photos from the last week:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=116219&id=674507268&l=b4f74028a6

Photos from Monday:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=116583&id=674507268&l=ba0c3bf6c7

The waves of grain aren't amber here yet, but they are still beautiful. This photo is from last week which flew and swirled like our local wind taking me hither and fro and nowhere specific. I'm starting to feel a bit like this wheat - rooted, but tossed about willy nilly without anyone asking me if I feel like taking Toad's Wild Ride today. It's exhausting and really bad for my hair (which, in light of my new age, has mysteriously doubled the grey count).

A place I chose to go - today we did enjoy an Italian birthday party with a dear friend - always an honor to be included in these special times. And a delicious one. Mariella can cook anything. Today she made pasta with pesto trapaneza and a really delicious veggie cous cous.

It's just a number and though I don't really "like" the number, I'm not terribly torn up about it. I think 34 was worse. Partially because with every birthday comes that introspective personal evaluation that I almost without exception fail miserably. This year, either because I'm too busy with the move, or really just don't care at the moment, I skipped that whole self-evaluation entirely figuring, eh, it was a good year and this next one will be even better. Why stress.

May be I'm finally growing up.

Life is good. I have 4 girls, a guy, and amazing friends. I'm finally writing which is both strange and somewhat exciting. And... well, I'm moving to Spain. What more could a girl ask for.

A cake? Yep. Got that too. Alice came through with her famous, out of this world, best ever carrot cake, candles, singing, and all. So a few zillion calories later, I'm a little fluffier, but completely content to be... gulp... 35.

(The ice cream wasn't mine. I saw it prepared as I saw having coffee and gooseberry cake this morning with Kirk at Cafe Schleypen. It's Spaghetti Eis - a very traditional ice cream dessert here in Germany - vanilla ice cream extruded into long spaghetti-like strands and then covered with strawberries and strawberry sauce to look like spaghetti.)

On my list of "things to see before I move" was Dusseldorf's Altstadt. After all, it's only 45 minutes from my house and in 3.5 years, I'd only seen the airport. I'd read reviews. I'd read tourist information. It all led to me think that this area is absolutely precious, beautiful, quaint, and not to be missed.

May be. But not today. Last night Dusseldorf's soccer team won pushing them higher in the rankings. Today the celebration took to the market area and spilled into surrounding Altstadt streets with music, fireworks, and beer and beer and beer... you get the idea. After all, according to Wikipedia (which I read when I got home), "the Düsseldorfer Altstadt is known as the longest bar in the world (längste Theke der Welt)." Crammed into the streets littered with trash and beer cans are over 300 bars and discotheques. Makes sense. The music was ganz laut. And the bars were bursting with people who filled the sidewalks and streets dressed in all arrangements of red and white imbibing the local golden brew.

Without kids I could have possibly enjoyed that set of photo ops... the strangely clad German, the over abundance of beer. But it was too raucous to take photos of the area itself. Altstadt's beauty was covered in banners and so viele Leute. So, we headed to the Kö.

The Kö, just a few blocks from the Altstadt, is stunning in it's simplicity and tranquility. Once Kastanienallee, an unhappy citizen threw dung at the king, so they renamed the street Königsallee to appease him. And it feels kingly. Wide streets lined with posh cafes and high end shops divided with a long canal reflecting the old trees. This is what I was looking for. Unfortunately, the shops were closed and we were on a mission for food which I knew we'd find more of along the river.

Thinking "Portland's Waterfront Park" and finding crowds and concrete, we ducked into a place to eat (really greasy chewy food that only Elise would eat before she choked on a piece of ham), hydrate the girls and get out of the sun. We felt like cattle walking through the crowds along the hot cement gazing across the river at the pretty side - lined with lawn and bike paths, fisherman and a flock of sheep coming to the river's edge from time to time for a drink. Lucky sheep.

We thought we'd see a little more before heading home... but just as we stopped for ice cream, the music started and the first rainbow appeared. Kirk pulled the girls into the ice cream shop and I darted out just briefly to get a couple stomach turning shots of the Gay Pride parade. Time to go home. There were several images there that the girls just didn't need to see.

So... glad I went? Yeah. I would have regretted not seeing it. But, now having been there, I wouldn't go back without a really good reason. I'm sure on a weekday morning, it's lovely, but our Sunday post -soccer celebration/Gay Pride lunacy was just a bit more than I wanted to deal with. Dusseldorf can have it. I'll stick with Maastricht - prettier, quieter, and closer to home.

Here's to possibilities past and present.

The house seems quiet to me at the moment - that bittersweet quiet that happens when you're lost in a thought. (That and the children are outside.)

Sigh.

I just had a quick impromptu unexpected and absolutely delightful visit over a cup of tea with a friend who I have not seen or talked to in two years. And she lives 10 minutes away.

No fight. No disagreement. No falling out. Just one day, her life got busy and my life got busy and pretty soon we were so lost in busy that when briefly life would slow for just a second, we would turn to our separate circles and forget that we were just 10 minutes away.

It's sad. So today we shared tea and a short, but lovely chat, and now I'm moving and have to add her to the growing list of goodbyes and yet we're looking at each other after two years and thinking this feels more like a hello and shouldn't we try to connect a few more times before good bye?

I drove by another friend's house today - another woman that I met when I first got here and thought, wow, if only I could be her friend, and then, lucky me, I was, and then we got busy.

I'm starting to really get bugged by "busy." I'm missing out on some incredible people. But, today's connection is good. And instead of letting the awkwardness of time get between us, I am going to try to connect, even for a moment to these treasures - these people with which I shared momentary, but precious time.

Totally unrelated photo... one taken today as I contemplate a new project...

Great week. Feeling motivated. Perpetual progress pausing only for a moment or two with friends.

Monday I discovered an amazing little Turkish market just 20 minutes from me that has huge containers of fresh spices at a fraction of the McCormick cost, sun dried tomatoes, tahini, big bags of bulgar, Turkish tea pots. What a way to shop. Senay took me there and before we grabbed carts, we walked through together looking at things, picking up ingredients, translating labels, and sharing recipes inspired by the items on the shelf. It was leisurely, fun, and a time full of laughter. The Turkish people don't like to use a lot of frozen foods... instead, they harvest vegetables, like peppers, hang them together on strings to dry them, then soften them in water in the winter months to stuff with meat and rice - fresh summer food in winter. In the evenings of Ramadan, they have a sweet first, as they break the fast of the day and begin their meal. I like that - sweet first, healthy after. I got a few things - mostly spices that I can take with me to Spain. And a Turkish tea pot that comes in two parts. You boil the water in the top part first, add the tea, the put it on top of a larger pot filled with water and heat them together. Pour the strong tea into a glass, then add water to the glass to weaken it to your liking. Coffee and strawberry cakes in Ubach on the patio in the sun. We finished our day talking about our daughters.

Tuesday I met a friend for our good-bye coffee 12 minutes away in a town that I have never actually walked through to visit and to look for a monument to the "elastic house." It was supposed to be obvious, but it took us walking the complete circle around the lake to finally see it at the point where we'd begun hiding behind a semi-circle of rose buses. An engraved stone and a fountain in the shape of the star of David. The elastic house in Brunssum saved over 250 Jewish children in WW2, taking them in, giving them new identities, and finding families to take them in who would all of the sudden have a new "niece" or cousin living with them. It was called the Elastic house because the numbers of people inside changed so frequently and the the walls seemingly stretched to accommodate them. There's a book written about it, but it's all in Dutch. Makes me wonder how many other stories are unknown to us because of the language they're written in.

Good Dutch cappuccino with thick foam and a dusting of cinnamon. Ciabatta with brie, ardenne ham, and honeydew melon. Elise had a tall cup of frothy steamed milk beside a cup of good chocolate chips and another cup of whipped cream - a do it yourself hot chocolate.

Another good-bye to one of those friends that I will keep tabs on forever even if it's just a note or a book recommendation here and there.

Get your autographs now.

Tonight we were at a BBQ for some friends who are moving. It was dark. Everyone was talking. The music was loud - karaoke. The kids were running around. We were all outside.

Mama Mia came on as Kirk and I were talking together. We heard the singing. It was good. So we leaned over to look into the tent to see who was singing, and there was Elise with the microphone held close to her mouth singing "Mama Mia, here we go again..."

When we were leaving Elise strumming the guitar of a guy we know. He's in a band here. And Elise just stood there quietly, observantly, listening and strumming. "She has it in her," he says. "She's gifted. She has rhythm."

Which I knew. But. Wow. It's still great to hear. We sing a lot. She dances. But in Spain, guitar and piano could be in her future.

It's sad when you look back seven days and cannot remember even the slightest detail from what was just one week ago. No age jokes, please. I'm not old yet. But really, it shouldn't be so hard. Tuesday... Tuesday... nope, nothing.

Thanks to my handy, dandy calendar on the computer, I do have some memory joggers from the rest of the week. Seriously, if it weren't for my calendar and the photos that I take, I think that every day would be Groundhog's Day.

Thankfully, it's not all a blank. Last Wednesday our conversation group met at my house which is why, sadly, I have no pictures. We had strata together - one I made with stale sesame broetchen, spinach, artichoke hearts and onion. They liked it enough to have seconds. Then I made up 1.5 recipes of pie dough and made both a traditional apple pie and an apple galette. This is the second time that I've "taught" apple pie to a group of international friends and again they seemed surprised that there are no eggs in it. It turned out great - and we had fun laughing, cooking, and talking over coffee, strata, and fresh, hot pie. Apparently apple pie dough is similar to something both the Turkish and Italians use in other dishes... I have yet to figure out exactly what though... when their words begin flying in foreign tongue, I sometimes have a hard time catching them enough to stop and ask for details. Someone hand me a butterfly net.

Thursday was, um (moment to check calendar) - Oh... among a myriad of errands and cookie baking, a lovely, ever so needed, completely relaxing time with Lorella sitting at her house drinking Italian espresso, then sitting at Cafe Immendorf sipping latte machiatos and mmmm-ing over our erdbeer tortchens. Watched a group of 60's-ish men on bicycles completely clad in bicycle attire saunter in for their beer all saying "hallo" and various complementary greetings - a bunch of flirtatious older men strutting their stuff. And then just sat, relaxed, basked in the sun and the quiet, and talked. Lorella is another one of those forever friends with whom I hope to never lose touch with. She is, as she's always been, absolutely fabulous!

Our last night. My last night as president. A member's only bingo night. I had cookies, salsa, chips, stuff for our charity, and a bunch of IWC travel mugs all together. Got there early, set up, watched people jump in without question and help thinking wow... this is it... it's time. I can go. They'll be OK. And the night went off without a hitch. I was the Bingo caller which aside from a tired voice after, is actually kind of fun. I spent the night watching the crowd, catching bits of conversations, smiling at my friends aware of small inside jokes, remembering so many fond memories, and thinking about good bye. For most of these people, this night was good bye. Towards the end I thanked them for the time and the opportunity then introduced them to their new president, my friend, Francesca. Just thinking about it is sad for me. This has been the best 3 years of my life, I think. So many people, blessings, opportunities... mostly people though. I will miss the people.

Late night, early morning. Traipsing all over Maastricht with Arianna and her second grade class looking at the Roman fortifications and looking through the Museum of Natural History. Boy. It's hard to be a second grader... all that walking, all that looking, all those coffee shops, and not a minute to stop for a cuppa Joe. So sad. The kids loved the trip. We learned about Roman toilets all lined up together in a half-circle, so the kids sat down on stones set where a Roman toilet lies beneath the pavement and posed straining for a photo (not my idea - it was a boy's mom). We saw a statue of a horse that was definitely a boy. We saw the toilet in a guard post in the old wall and a statue of a bear with human hands. These were the highlights. The kids also loved the rooms upon rooms of old bones and taxidermy at the natural history museum, a place that has me thoroughly convinced that I am really more of a zoo person. We lunched by the statue of d'Artagnan, the fourth musketeer who died in Maastricht at the age of 62, in combat from a bullet to the throat. The kids shopped for tacky souvenirs - pens and ceramic "wooden" shoes. And at the end of a 7 hour day out, we finally headed home.

Exhaustion comes in the form of pizza take-out from Il Genios and a shared bottle of wine with good friends. My kind of Friday night.

Photos: 1) A large gold framed advertisement hanging on the outside wall of a restaurant in Maastricht 2) Sculpture of a extinct blue-lipped giraffe with a lady whose arm moves to pet it when the merry go round nearby turns. This was the location of several caged bears in the 60's before the people protested that it was too sad. 3) 16 second graders huddled around the statue of d'Artagnan in Maastricht. 4) Arianna posing on the bridge over the Maas river with a lovely view of Maastricht in the background - or it would be, except that it was raining and the umbrella covered all.

Tiara quote of the week: "guys are so confusing. they're moods change. they'll be like one way and then another. it's like they're PMSing or something. And they think us girls are confusing."

My rule of birthdays is that the birthday girl/boy gets to completely manage their own special day within reason. School may not be skipped, but I will cook anything and bake anything and all activities within the realm of possibility will be done. Sometimes it is a bit more challenging. On more than one occasion, Tiara has wanted me to make sushi for her. And, some cake requests have been difficult.

This year, I made cupcakes for Elise's class as this was her snack day. She had school and came home full of spunk, but just wanted to play with her new Polly Pockets from grandma - easy. Then she wanted chocolate cake, so I did heart cakes and the girls all decorated their own - easy. Mac and cheese for dinner - again - easy. And she spent the entire day playing, dancing, and singing completely contently. The challenge will be the cake for her birthday party - the one that she's oh so specific about - a round white cake with white frosting with green shamrocks all around the edge, then blue flowers with stems laying across the middle and a big green anchor sitting in the middle. Huh. Have no idea where she got this one from, but it's interesting and I appreciate that she has her own idea and isn't doing the standard cartoon character thing.

Arianna told her martial arts teacher that today was Elise' birthday, so she made a sparkler with candy attached for Elise. The Germans use sparklers for special birthdays and anniversaries. So after Elise was done with her little one, Tante Tinny came out with three more so she, A, and L could do it again. It is a nice tradition.

Anyway... the day ended with sugar overload and the opening of presents. Elise got ready for bed and triumphantly announced that she will get two wishes now because she blew out candles at school this morning AND at home this evening. Smart girl might get get those wishes!


More photos (temporary link - will only work for a month or so):
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=111832&id=674507268&l=2f8ad33d80

Mother's Day seems like a good enough place to start, keep up, and them may be possibly back track a bit and catch up. It's hard though... 4 big trips in the last month, company x2, and a move looming ahead in, oh, 50 days. Ouch. May be it's better if I don't count the days. Not enough time.

This Mother's Day was special because my mother was actually here - on her last day before her return to the states.

Arianna announced several days ago that for mother's day, I had to sleep in. She was quite emphatic about this. So, all three little girls got up early, helped Kirk cook breakfast, and insisted that grandma and I be allowed to sleep. They were even quiet. Until 9 when Arianna loudly and triumphantly stomped into my room with an exuberant "Happy Mother's Day" shout that could probably be heard for miles. Ok, ok, I'm awake now.

We had a delicious breakfast and a lazy morning - lazy for most. Kirk was busy making a hammock for Felicity - Arianna's American girl doll who just so happened to be having a birthday on the same day. It kept the littles happy and quiet as they completely trashed the entire living room all in the name of "decorating for Felicity's party."

In the afternoon we went to Immendorf to one of my favorite cafes where we sat and relaxed while the kids played. They all got ice cream. Mom and I split a strawberry cake baked in the shape of a heart for just this occasion.

We wrapped up the evening in quiet, Kirk and mom visiting while I frosted cupcakes for Elise's birthday. It was a day without a lot of pomp, but I appreciated the quiet, relaxing pace - a stark contrast to the last month and something I sorely needed. Now I'm in full speed ahead. Next time for rest, may be in 60 days or so.