Life: Idiotropic

Faces: Bronze, stone, and plastic... all ladies, and all unique. The doll was special in her placement at the antique stall among a hunter's trophy and an old wooden hat form. The bronze is part of an almost full sized statue near a water fountain... count her fingers. She has more than 5. And the lady in the garden has seen better years, I'm sure, but among flowers, a maiden is always at home.

I spent 6 1/2 hours today at the Tongeren antique market wandering among the treasures, admiring, and questioning the extraordinary and the strange. Utilitarian can be beautiful and fun, so my eye fell on a variety of old coffee grinders and scales today as I compared prices - some decent and some extreme. One vendor saw my Canon and started a lengthy conversation about cameras, lenses, and macro photography. He likes to photograph flowers and bugs in the morning when the dew if heavy and the bugs are slow.

No visit to Tongeren is complete without a visit to Babs, so we stopped and spent a few minutes with her over a glass of wine.

All in all a good day... I found several things that I would love to have in our home when the dollar doubles in value and several things that I did take home today simply because I liked them and they were a good deal.

May be you've heard of "The Bite" events as in Bite of Portland, Bite of San Francisco, etc... where some of the best restaurants put of tents and serve small portions of some of their star dishes. Well... tonight Kirk and I went to the Preuvenemint - essentially The Bite of Maastricht with 31 food booths ranging from caviar to Korean, Dutch to Italian, coffee, gelato and so much more... it was amazing.

Music played all day and into the night from the stage in the Vrijthof that was surrounded by enormous hanging floral arrangements and dozens of sunflowers all around the stages edge. We heard American rock and roll, German folk music, and French ballads while we were there. People crowded around the stage to watch with small bottles of wine topped with these funnel shaped tops making it easy to drink straight from the bottle. Couples dance at the event entrance. It was crowded, but not uncomfortably so... I enjoyed the sun, the ambiance, and the people watching.

These weren't just booths. Some set up with to-go style food that you could walk with or eat at outdoor patio areas near by and others set up mini restaurants complete with stylish tables and chairs, decor similar to their restaurants decor, flowers, and one had a chandelier and branches with floral vines hanging from the elevated tent ceiling. Atmosphere changed completely from booth to booth and it was really fun to see. We started with Korean - something Kirk misses from his time in Osan. He greeted them and said goodbye in Korean and for our interest, Kirk got a free bit of extra kimchi. It was relaxed and casual. From there we went to Moods with tall white tables - modern and shiny like patent leather and long benches that were soft round cylinders of black leather - sheek and modern. Kirk had a delicious Thai curry soup. I had scampi with sundried tomatoes and salad (a taste in a very small cup with an over sized toothpick to eat it - no fork). From Moods we shared a scoop of sangria sorbet served on balsamic vinegar marinated strawberries and mascarpone cream. Wow. A phenomenal flavor combination.

After moods we had Thai - chicken sates in peanut sauce and lumpia served from a stand with only outdoor seating. A patisserie caught our eye, so we did a quick stop there to taste some too-too decadent desserts served in tiny clear bowls. Then we went to Tom Miessens with bright wine themed art on the tent walls, tall round tables, and large silver bowls filled with ice and chilled champagne bottles. We each had a glass of wine and shared a cheese plate served with good bread and strawberry jam and I learned that those overly stinky cheeses are delightful when paired with a thin layer of sweet jam. The combination makes each part better.

Full, but with 5 coupons left, we toddled toward the ice cream tent, but I just couldn't bring myself to order ice cream. I was too stuffed and didn't want to feel heavy. So we opted for coffee at Coffee Lovers - the perfect end to our afternoon out. The coffee was perfect and mine was served, happily, in a real, full-sized, coffee lovers ceramic mug. A nice touch of class and the perfect comfort food.

Tiara got her new finalized schedule today (she's in 8th):

Period 1 Language Arts
Period 2 US History
Period 3 French 2 (High School Class)
Period 4 Spanish 1 (High School Class)

~The above classes constitute an "A" day. Each class meets for roughly 90 minutes. She only has these classes on A days.

Period 5 Algebra 1 (High School Class)
Period 6 Integrated Science
Period 7 Health/PE (alternating quarters)
Period 8 Seminar - a study hall/reading time which ends up being extremely valuable. This is the time all the teachers are available to meet with students. Students can do homework, get extra help, make up exams and go to their teachers with questions.

~ Periods 5-8 are all 90 minute classes that Tiara has on "B" days. A days and B days alternate all year, so she only has, for example, French, every other day. It works. She likes it.

So far she loves all her classes.... either because the teacher and class are wonderful, or she has a friend in that class. :)

Still at AF North International School... she'd stay 'til graduation if that were a choice. A great school. I love that it's completely fenced in, has a gate with guards, and, of course, that it's international. I think the mix of cultures is enriching.

Of course, the little girls are getting international as well. Arianna has an Italian girl in class this year who didn't speak a word of English a week ago when she started. Luci's in class with a Danish girl and Spanish girl who both attended last year and speak English very well. Elise will go next week with a bunch of Italians. (Love those parties - great food!)

Yes, I still have them. My life really is so much more than cultural tidbits, social events and recipes. The kids are the laughter in my days. So here, they are in all their glory... from lost teeth to biking solo, Tiara's first day of 8th grade, Arianna's first day of 2nd, and Luci's first day of 1st. Elise will start next week.

Arianna lost one tooth the week before the hospital and the other the day I had my surgery. Her smile now is absolutely adorable and I think she knows it. She's smiling extra, I think, just to show off her stunning grin.

And now, suddenly, both Arianna AND Luci can not only ride their bicycles without training wheels, but they can do it confidently. Kirk's taken them twice to Burg Trips to ride. The last time they rode 8 miles! Even little Luci kept up! Amazing!

Tiara had her first day of school one day ahead of the others. This is one of her many self portraits and one that she took that day. My grown up 8th grader - she's happy to be back in school and so far, likes her classes quite a bit.

Luci and Arianna started 1st/2nd grade the next day (last Tuesday). They were both excited and happy. Their bus is bus 5 - a city bus that is used by the Americans for this school. The kids were greeted by Dr. Emerson, the principal. I need to ask what was written on the card. He had that held up for all the kids - and he was wearing a large red clown nose.


Finally... from today. Elise saw the poor little mouse trapped on Tinny's basement stair, threw her full bowl of (thankfully) dry cheerios in the air and ran inside to me crying and screaming that she saw a rat and she was scared it was going to run up the stairs and bite her. Arianna and Luci joined the onlookers while I threw down two cheerios for it to much on. We could hear the crunching as he ate them. He was cute.

I got a Keds box and scooped him up in that. He stood up on his hind legs and sniffed when he saw me. Adorable. We took him to the back yard, sat in a circle around him giving him space, and watched him nibble on weeds, sniff, poke his nose up here and there, and burrow through the grass near us for about 5 minutes until he finally ran off into the neighbor's yard. Mice are fast. I couldn't get good photos. But he could have easily come from a Beatrix Potter book. Quite a dashing fellow. You see the Cheerio? Look below and slightly right and you'll see his beady black eye. It really did look like a single shiny glass bead. So perfect.

In my first post-op week at home I was home feeling as if I were under house arrest and teasing Kirk about it though I do appreciate his care of me. Instructions said no driving for two weeks which he interpreted as no sitting in a car in any way, shape, or form for at least two solid weeks. The little girls did vacation Bible school and my big girl enjoyed her last week of sleeping in.

On Thursday, Kirk went back to work... and you know the saying... "While the cat's away..."

I was well behaved, mostly, but resting gets boring. In the afternoon I heard Tinny come in and talk to the girls, so I went down to investigate. "Tinny was looking for you." So, I went through our courtyard to her place and instead of finding Tinny, who was at another neighbor's house looking for scissors, I found her niece, Alicia, tying ribbons around roses.

12 red roses sat in the bucket in Tinny's sink bound together for something later. 12 large white roses laid across the table in tangles of bright yellow wired ribbon, their ends already cut on a nice diagonal. So, looking for something to do and thinking that the tying of ribbons was well within my allowed activities, I sat and helped tie pretty yellow bows on the remaining roses neatly trimming the ends. When that was finished they brought in 14 gold luftbalons, big, helium filled, and clinging to the ceiling. That's when the fireworks came out. Yep. Fireworks and balloons. We took what seems like a really long time, paining our fingers by twisting the ends of large sparklers onto the balloon string in two places so that each balloon had two sparklers hanging from it. Some only held one, so just about the time we had finished poking ourselves with those thick wires, Tinny found a box of small sparklers. And we all three immediately took off all the big sparklers and put the small ones on. It was finished. I went home and Tinny promised to ring my door bell so I could come and take pictures of the balloons. Spaeter. Later. When it's dark.

15 minutes later the doorbell rang. It wasn't dark. I didn't see Tinny, but Finny was outside with another couple I didn't know. The tall man linked his arm in mine and invited me, Elise, and Luci (who had come outside too and without shoes) to come to the party. Ok. I ran inside quickly, told Tiara where I'd be, slipped my sandals on, and went. The party was at the house at the opposite of row of houses we live on - a whole 20 feet away. The side yard was set up with a large tent under which about 8 long, narrow tables with benches were set. People filled most of them already drinking and talking with each other. I sat down at one, then scooted into the end as people began to fill it. Finny, Kirt (the old man who lives in the house by us), Tinny, the hairdresser (Tanya), the couple in the big house (Paul and...), and the man with the white dogs sat at my table.

Tanya and Paul spoke a bit of English but everyone was friendly and tried to converse with me making me feel a lot less of an outsider. Young girls walked around serving drinks. Elise and Luci had Fanta. I shared theirs. Tray after tray of broetchen halves went by with mettwurst (raw ground pork) with onions, schinkenwurst, salami, cheeses... all with a thick smear of butter. The kids at some. I waited. Tiara was home cooking dinner.

We talked about wine from the Ahr regions. Tanya asked where I was from and I learned that almost everyone at my table had a relative somewhere in the states. The man with the little white dogs folded his napkin into triangles and then held it up like a bikini and everyone laughed. He started a conversation with me about ouzo. Strange, but ok. I can talk ouzo.

Kirt is the man next door who lives alone with his miniature pony, Bonzai. He's 79 with dark skin. Short with slightly tired shoulders. He is rarely seen without his thick cigar and he drinks schnapps - and only schnapps claiming that a shot in the morning and a shot in the afternoon has kept him healthy for years. This is the man who still stands on top of his ladder with a chainsaw to trim his 8' hedges and stood on top of his new awning when he was building it. May be schnapps is a health food. So Kirt sat at the end of the table listening, contributing just a little, and smiling with unnaturally white, perfect (I suspect false) teeth the entire evening, a cigar cocked out of one side of his mouth allowing him to continue to drink shot after shot of who knows what. Someone would take the bottle. He'd jovially yell, and one of the girls would fetch it for him. Tinny told me later that the men carried him home at midnight. She was walking back from his place at 9 the next morning checking in to make sure he was ok.

I left to check on the kids after a couple hours, but within a half hour the doorbell rung again... it was time for the singing. 12 school friends had gathered. Can you imagine??? You're old enough to celebrate your 50th wedding anniversary and 12 of your closest school friends are there singing? It's amazing. People stay in these villages for a lifetime.


Two ladies dressed up as the anniversary couple. Alicia played the small boom box inside the old fashioned looking crank organ and turned the crank as if she was playing it. The school friends had their white roses to give and we all sung "Rut Sin De Ruse" loudly until our lungs couldn't take it anymore. I don't know if it was badly typed or some strain of old German, but the spelling isn't what I've learned.


Soon the sparklers came. The school friends all gathered in a circle and lit the fireworks letting a few balloons go at a time. Then we all gathered (even me) in a half circle singing another well known song to the couple of honor. Soon after (it was around 10), I went home.

I heard Tinny come home after 11 laughing loudly with her friends. The party continued until midnight. That was the only portion that I was a part of, but the celebration continued. A 50th anniversary is a special thing in a small town.

On Friday the Mayor of Geilenkirchen came to their house to bring a gift from the city and to spend an hour visiting. Then in the evening there was a special anniversary mass at the church in Gillrath.

On Saturday all their family and friends gathered once more - this time for dinner at Haus Hammacher. It was a very nice dinner, Tinny said. She was there for about 6 hours.

She came over before the party to show me this balloon. It was a gift from 3 neighbors - the second neighbor to their left (Tinny), the second neighbor to their right, and the second neighbor in front of them. They put a wedding photo inside then filled the balloon and over 200Euros in 5 Euros bills, confetti, and smaller balloons.

It's tradition, says Tinny. It's beautiful.

Got sprung from the hospital "early" Sunday afternoon after 5 days instead of the suggested 10. Have spent a couple days trying to "behave myself" by not working too hard. It's not my cup of tea.

And, sadly, sitting too long in my office chair just hurts - a sure sign that I probably shouldn't be doing it. And, I have an article due Monday which kind of takes priority over the blogging thing...

So, I did take notes - lots of them - partly out of my need for memories and details of the curious hospital stay, and partly out of complete and total boredom.

That being said, the notes will be put together into something readable in the near future along with photos of Arianna's new smile and Luci fearlessly riding her bicycle without training wheels.

:) T

P.S. I can't sweep, vacuum, load the dishwasher, bend over much, drive, or pick up much heavier than this cup of coffee, but I CAN push down the button on Tiara's camera, and so, out of boredom, curiosity, and the fact that my coffee ended up on the mid-floor windowsill and I was too tired to walk up or down a flight of stairs, I started a funny little game of taking pictures of my coffee. This is what I saw reflected in my coffee today. It's a brass colored lamp on our mid level stair landing that our landlord says in "original," but, the house was built in 1907 when electricity in this way probably wouldn't have been here and not with this wiring. So, may be original means after the war - after they returned from Saxony to find their house a mere shell with the windows and doors blown out from the heavy bombing that occurred here. Rats and ash covering the floor. There's a story here. I may tell it in my next cup of coffee.

I actually have some things to report... a lovely brunch with friends from which I have a new recipe to share... an incident with a lost wallet and meeting the Dutch man who found it... and an experience with the local hospital which I will have more to add in the next week or so.

Tomorrow I'll be heading to the hospital in Heinsberg for a hysterectomy which has been a long time coming and will fix all the nit-picky gripes I've had these last couple years. Here, they like to keep you a while, so it looks like a 5-7 day stay for me. Yippee. So, I'll be fine sitting in my shared room catching up on my reading and having some forced rest.

Prayers are welcome.

~Tiffany

So it's a regular Friday night and we're meeting a bunch of friends for Wall E, the new Pixar film, at the Foroxity Theatre. I love the Foroxity because there is a narrow table right behind each row of chairs, so you have a nice ledge in front of you for your popcorn, bitter lemon, or cappuccino... in Tiara's case, the Ben and Jerry's ice cream.

I have my huge purse with my little wrist purse tucked inside... I take out my little one when I go get drinks for the kids, then set it down on that convenient little ledge in front of me. The movie starts. There is no dialogue the entire first half of the movie. The kids love it, but I'm ready to pull out a book and a pen light. For a good movie I'll stay for the credits, but by the time this one was over, I was ready to bolt for the door. Elise was sleeping in my arms. I grabbed my purse, my girl, and headed out. My little red wristlet sat on the ledge in the dark.

So the next day I'm getting ready to go to Schinnen... the kids are ready, I'm ready, I have the list... it's time to grab my keys and go. Keys in hand... purse. No red purse. Gone. Checked the car. Emptied my big purse. And then the terrifying AH-HA moment happened when I knew exactly where I left it. 2 debit cards, 2 credit cards, 2 military identifications, 2 driver's licenses.

I called the Foroxity. They checked the Lost and Found. "Sorry, Ma'm."

So I went into this auto-pilot crisis management mode. Files came out, and the phone was in use. I triaged the list of creditors and called them in order of importance to protect. Canceled one, then two... Asked Kirk to call the base. I was to file a police report with the Dutch and German police, file reports on both bases, then go through the grueling process of getting new IDs. That's more painful than the credit cards.

The kids were rerouted into play mode. I spoke to the Dutch police and had the station address. Tiara was set to babysit for however long it would take for us to get this done. We were minutes from walking out the door and I thought... let's check just one more time. I called the Foroxity again and got the same girl on the phone.

A man had called the Foroxity a few minutes ago. He was Dutch. He found my purse, but since it was an American's purse and had "important papers" inside, he decided to take it home instead of trusting it to the theater staff. The theater employee was incensed. She said she yelled at him telling him they had a safe. He didn't leave a name or number. I'd have to wait.

Late that evening the base called to tell us that the Geleen police had it. The left a number which led me to another number... and I eventually tracked it down. They are closed on Sundays, but I could pick it up at 3 anyway. He spoke little English, so we spoke mostly in German, then English, and a bit of Dutch for pleasantries.

Sunday Kirk is working. I have the kids. We drive to the police station - arrive 15 minutes late. I stand at the locked door and call with my cell phone. "You're late," he says in English. "Yes, I know. My GPS took me a strange way." In German he replies that because I'm late I must hand over my oldest daughter. I paused, then laughed and he laughed too, then opened the door.

Everything is there except for 10 Euros cash. Glad I didn't have more. "Thank you." We're speaking German again which surprises me because the Dutch usually speak English extremely well. Then he tears the piece of paper that had photocopies of all of my ids. Written on the back is a name, an address, and a phone number. Mr. Schlemmer. This is the man who found my wallet and so here is his address. He lives just a few blocks away. If I'd like to stop by and say thank you. He started to draw me a map.

Is this normal?? Do people normally visit the honest folks who return lost or stolen things? I'm a woman alone with 4 daughters... but I'm in the Netherlands... it won't hurt to drive there. May be he won't be home.

We got there, parked, and got out. Followed the numbers around to 149, looked up and saw a man smoking on the top floor balcony. I waved my little red wristlet. "Did you find this?" I yelled up. "I just wanted to say 'thank you." He smiles, stands, then asks if we'd like to come up. All those safety alarms go off. What would Kirk say. Is this safe? "Oh, no thank you. I just wanted to thank you." "I'll come down." Deep breath. Tiara is worried. The little ones are oblivious, but I can see that look in T's face. And then he's there, a tall, thin, middle aged man with the darkened wrinkled skin of a smoker. Loose clothing, but not horribly dressed. Smiling. He says he found it on the floor with the contents spilling out, so he scooped it up and took it home. He invites us up again. Come have a drink.

How do I get out of this? I don't. "Ok, just for a moment. I can't stay long." The entry is filthy. It's an old disheveled building. There's a sink covered in grime and some buckets on the ground. We're walking up extremely steep narrow stairs and I'm thinking about how I could run down these with a kid tucked under each arm if I needed to. We get upstairs and he opens the door to an absolutely beautiful, completely modern apartment. And it's clean. His old dog licks us. The girls are taken with him. He points to his computer. "I tried to find your phone number on google, but couldn't find it." He tells me about his search and all the people he called to try to reach me. We make small talk about family and jobs. He has a wife and two teenage kids. They're building a large home nearby. "This is temporary," he repeats several times during our visit. I don't have a drink and don't stay long. Within 15 minutes, we were making our way again down those stairs. Thanking him again.

We turned the corner, saw my van in the near distance, and I let out a deep breath. Relief. Not that my wallet is back, but we're walking casually away from what ended up being a very benign encounter.

I wonder how normal this is. The policeman seemed to think it was routine. This is not America.

Missing my friends who I hadn't seen in a while and not able with the girls out of school to run off and have one-on-one coffees with them all, I had a "Hello Brunch" the week before my surgery to reconnect with friends, relax and enjoy a nice morning, and to swap recipes. I really honestly don't choose my friends for their cooking ability, but I kinda always luck out with friends who are not only really fun to hang out with, but could fatten me up in a heartbeat with all their treats. So, here are two recipes... one from my friend Rita - the only truly savory item at the table and one that we all wanted more of. The other is the treat that I made... a recipe from Cuisine at Home.

Rita's BAKED POLENTA WITH ITALIAN SAUSAGE,
MUSHROOMS, AND THREE CHEESES

Ingredients:
1 tbs fruity olive oil
1/2 small yellow onion - chopped
2 large garlic cloves - minced
1/2 medium red sweet pepper - chopped
1/2 lb mild Italian sausage - casing removed, crumpled
1/2 lb fresh crimini mushrooms - thinly sliced
4 C milk, broth, or water (I use milk)
1 1/4 C yellow cornmeal - preferably stone-ground
1 1/2 tbsp chopped fresh sage
1/ 1/2 tbsp chopped fresh Italian parsley
1 C Ricotta cheese
1 C Shredded Gruyere cheese
salt
freshly ground black pepper
dash of red pepper flakes or 1/4 tsp Cayenne pepper
4 tbsp butter melted
4 tbsp grated Parmesan cheese
tomato sauce (optional)

Directions:
Saute onion, garlic, and sweet pepper in olive oil. Add sausage and cont. cooking till meat changes color. Stir in mushrooms and cook for a few minutes. Set mixture aside.

Heat up milk slowly and add cornmeal, stirring briskly to avoid lumping. Cook for a couple of minutes till cormeal is very thick. Remove from heat and add herbs, red pepper flakes, and Ricotta and Gruyere cheeses. Add sausage mix., combine well, then season to taste with salt and pepper. Drizzle with melted butter and sprinkle with Parmesan cheese.

Pour mixture in a 9-inch baking dish and bake in 375 degrees for about 25 minutes. Serve with tomato sauce. (We didn't have the tomatoe sauce and didn't miss it.)

For the Crust:

• Preheat oven to 400 and coat a 9" tart pan with removable bottom with nonstick spray.
• Process 1 1/4 cups flour, 1/2 cup powdered sugar, 1/4 t. table salt, and the zest of one lemon until combined.
• Add 1 stick unsalted butter, cold and cubed (1/2 cup) and pulse until the mixture resembles course crumbs.
• Blend in 1 egg yolk and pulse until the dough is crumbly.
• Press dough over the bottom and up the sides of the prepared pan.
• Bake until golden - 12-15 minutes, then cool completely.
  

For the filling:

• Mash together one egg white and 1/2 cup lemon curd (can used purchased), then whisk in 3 eggs.
• Combine 1/4 cup flour, 3 T. cornstarch, and a pinch of salt in a separate bowl, then gradually add it to the egg mixture. Set aside.
• Bring 2 cups whole milk and 1/3 cup honey to a simmer in a saucepan over medium heat.
• Slowly temper the hot milk mixture into the egg mixture, then return it all to the pan.
• Cook over medium heat until thick and bubbly 3-5 minutes.
• Remove from heat and whisk in 2 T. cold unsalted butter and the juice of 1/2 a lemon stirring until smooth.
• Pour custard into the cooled crust, cover, and chill until set, 4 hours.
  

To finish:

• Melt 1/4 cup apricot jelly and the juice of 1 lemon together and stir well. Use this to glaze the top of the cooled tart.
• You will need 1/2 pint each of fresh blueberries, blackberries, and raspberries and a few sprigs of mint. I couldn't get raspberries, so I used red currants (johanesbeeren) instead for their bright red color. Strawberries would be good as well.
• Scatter 3/4 of the blueberries over the tart. Sprinkle most of the raspberries over the tart. Top with all the blackberries, then fill in with the remaining blueberries and raspberries. Dab the berries with the glaze and garnish with mint sprigs and leaves. Best served chilled.
  

From Saveur Mag: (I only used about 1/2 of this for the tart, so you could halve this recipe and have enough if you don't want leftovers, but lemon curd is delicious on fresh scones)

Lemon Curd - 1 1/4 cups

2 egg yolks
1 whole egg
6 tbsp. sugar
1⁄3 cup fresh lemon juice
1⁄2 tsp. finely grated lemon zest
5 tbsp. cold butter, cut into pieces

• Whisk together egg yolks, whole egg, sugar, lemon juice, and lemon zest in a medium mixing bowl until well combined.
• Set bowl over a medium pot of simmering water over medium-low heat and cook, whisking constantly, until thick, 8–10 minutes.
• Whisk in butter, a few pieces at a time, until completely incorporated. Transfer to a clean bowl, cover surface with plastic to prevent skin from forming, and set aside to let cool. Refrigerate for up to 2 weeks.

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.