Fourier Analyst

Diet, Curse, Loathe

2010-08-17T21:58:00.003+02:00

Don't get me wrong, I enjoyed Liz Gilbert's bestseller! It was a great summer read and I of course used it as an excuse to indulge myself in Bar-B-Q, Prime-Rib, Tex-Mex, Dr. Pepper and Pecos Cantaloupe! I consider Texas my "Italy" in terms of being a food mecca!

And I admit to having adopted some of her great phrases:

"That’s the thing about a human life-there’s no control group, no way to ever know how any of us would have turned out if any variables had been changed". (As a scientist, this one appeals to me and I use it regularly now to try and keep from second-guessing myself all the time!)
"Some days are meant to be counted, others are meant to be weighed." (Again, I guess it is my scientific bent, but this one gives me a very definite image and helps me gain perspective!)
And this one sums up my life philosophy in a much more poetic fashion than I could ever come up with: "Tis' better to live your own life imperfectly than to imitate someone else's perfectly."

The last one gives the reason why following her journey is all wrong for me. Oh I would love to spend a year in narcissistic self-indulgence. And in fact 4 months is likely far to short a time for me to achieve any of the goals that she set for herself on each of her quests. But the paths she chose are definitely not for my feet to trod, at least not at this point in my life.

So I have set out on my own quests and am in the process of laying the groundwork for my own journeys. And yes, the first one also involves the intake of food, but not the indulgence as it seems I have already been doing much too much of that. I don't expect to have near as much fun as Liz did, and I make no promises as to the inspirations I might encounter on my quests. But in the end I do hope that my path will lead to as happy an outcome, though I harbour no hopes of ever achieving a best seller or having Julia Roberts playing me in a movie!

However, should some miracle occur, I have always been told I look a lot like Meryl Streep...

Memorial Day (Music Monday)

2010-05-31T12:41:00.002+02:00

It's been a long time since I have played this game, but this just seemed so appropriate...

"Let Them In, Peter"

(Sorry I can't upload videos, you'll have to go to the link).

In memory of all those who have served, you are in our prayers.

The Sound of Glass Breaking

2010-05-12T16:04:00.004+02:00

You might not hear it. The US is a long way from Europe, and the ceilings there seem to be made of some high-tech bullet-proof glass. But maybe one day, and hopefully in my lifetime...

I was 14 years old before I really became aware of the social prejudices in the society I lived in that would (try to) keep me from following my dreams. I wanted to be an astronaut. And at that time the surest path to achieve that goal was via the military. When I learned about the Civil Air Patrol (basically a civilian version of ROTC), I joined at 13. I was one of the few girls in the group, and therefore I participated in all the activities that were set up for the guys. It was really pretty cool! And one Saturday an officer from the Air Force came and gave a lecture about the Air Force Academy. That was exactly what I thought would put me on the path I had chosen to follow. So imagine my shock when I went up to the recruiter afterwards with some questions and was told that it was not open to women.

I didn't believe him. Surely this was a joke. I questioned him further and he was obviously becoming uncomfortable. Some of the adults in our organization were trying not to laugh, as they were already familiar with my strong personality and would have never dreamed of telling me that something was not possible because I was a girl. In the end he advised me to contact my Congressman as I would need his support in any case to get into USAFA. But I came away from the conversation bewildered and angry. I just found it hard to believe that my gender would be considered a handicap and would prevent me from doing something like getting a good education. Unfortunately, it was not the first time I would encounter such limited thinking.

On 7 October 1975 President Gerald R. Ford signed legislation that allowed women to enroll for the first time in all of the nation's service academies, including the Air Force Academy. More than just glass came crashing down that day! It was a bit late for me, but I was pleased to see others getting that opportunity. Since then women have been breaking through various barriers, including this past election when we had a very serious contender for the nomination to run for President of the United States.

But there is a "glass ceiling" that still exists that keeps women from filling more than 15% of the seats as directors on the boards of various corporations in the US. In Europe, the figures are even lower, with single-digit percentages in most of the countries here.

That is about to change! The boardrooms of European corporations are being mandated legally, and are being pressured socially, to add women to their governing organizations. While companies and governments have seen a large influx of women in their ranks, the upper management echelons have resisted changing the status quo for the last couple of decades. Therefore social legislation is being implemented to help overcome the corporate resistance.

I admit, I don't understand why men are so reluctant to accept women into positions of power, but I have personally encountered it ever since I entered the workforce. And since companies have not been able to achieve the balance on their own, in Europe there are a number of laws that have recently been passed that will mandate this change. While I do understand the pitfalls of such "Affirmative Action" initiatives, I also know that without them change will not be forthcoming. Norway has led the way with legislation in 2003 that required state-owned and publicly traded companies to increase the average number of women from 7% to at least 40% by 2009. The average now is around 44%! The Netherlands has a similar law that will take effect in 2016. Spain also has passed such legislation and France is set to do so soon. In other countries the threat of gender quotas has been impetus enough to cause companies to be more pro-active in making changes on their own.

It won't be easy. Because of social traditions and cultural segregation, there are some countries where male domination in many professions will mean shortages of qualified female managers. Many companies will use this as an excuse, even when the evidence for such shortages is not present.

And men just don't get it. My own DH is complaining about the pressure to hire more women in his own organization. He gets no sympathy from me. We have daughters who will be entering the workforce in the next decade. I think he will change his mind if he sees them encountering the same limitations and barriers that I often came up against.

The US does not have such a legal mandate at the moment. But I do believe the pressure to change will come. Women make up over 50% of the workforce, and more women are earning college degrees than are men. There are fewer and fewer professions that can be considered as exclusively male, though there are still many male dominated areas of study. There is still a gender gap in terms of earning ability, and engineering and computer science are still predominantly male bastions, but there are now equal numbers of women earning business degrees and both the "hard" and "soft" sciences are starting to see a gender balance in the student body.

Of course with more women in positions of leadership, it does not mean we will have a perfect world. My DH points out some of the more recent public failures of women directors in various high level positions. But women should be allowed to fail, just as men have done from the dawn of civilization. Our society needs the balance that a female perspective will bring, not only in the boardrooms, but in the ways companies generally operate. Social responsibilities, environmental concerns, and moral obligations need to be given as much weight in decision making processes as is currently given to business objectives and financial targets.

I sincerely believe that a broader and more balanced perspective would have prevented the risk taking decisions that eventually led to collapse if Lehman Brothers had been Lehman Sisters or even Lehman Siblings. It's too late for me, but I am oh so glad that the glass is breaking now and that my girls will have more opportunities in their futures.

Oh look Corporate America! Is that a crack I see up there?

Sinter Klaasje kom maar binnen...

2009-12-03T17:21:00.005+01:00

For who are not familiar with the Dutch tradition of SinterKlass, I refer you to some of my earlier posts where I went into much detail to explain some of the background of this very important family festival here in the Netherlands (Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V and Part VI). As part of the tradition, starting in October you already can find the small cookies that the Zwarte Piets throw and/or pass out by the handfuls. These little cookies are also found in small bowls at the checkout counters of all the shops and stores as part of their otherwise non-existent customer service!

But the real fun comes not just in eating these little crunchies, but in making them yourself. For many years I was a volunteer at school helping youngsters measure out and make their own treats. As requested by a former ex-pat who got addicted to these yummies, I share here a recipe for Pepernoten. But my peronal favorite is not the traditional peppernoten, but the spicier, sweeter Kruidenoten which I already blogged about. And when you are tired of the cookies, but have a lot of leftovers still to use, there is the ever popular Kruidenoten Tiramisu that I also included!

Pepernoten

110 GRAM/4 OZ. SELF RAISING FLOUR

60 GRAM/2 OZ. BUTTER

50 GRAM/2 OZ. BROWN SUGAR

25 GRAM/1 OZ PANCAKE SYRUP

1 TBSP Kruidenoten Spices *

Melt the butter and dissolve the sugar and pancake syrup. Take the mixture off the heat and stir in the other ingredients. Mix well, put the dough in the fridge for two hours. Roll it out en cut out small squares or circles, using not more than a teaspoon size of dough. Bake 15 minutes at 175 degrees Celsius/350 degrees Farenheit.

Pepernoten are the original Sinterklaas-related cookies, though they have been replaced by Kruidenoten in popularity. They look the similar but taste blander. Kruidnoten are crispy like Speculaas, whereas pepernoten have more or less the same consistency as gingerbread.

30 GRAMS/1 OZ. CINNAMON
5 GRAMS/1 TSP GROUND CARDAMOM SEEDS
10 GRAMS/ 2 TSP GROUND GINGER
10 GRAMS/2 TSP NUTMEG
5 GRAMS/1 TSP WHITE PEPPER
5 GRAMS/1 TSP ANIS SEED
5 GRAMS/1 TSP CORIANDER SEED
10 GRAMS/2 TSP GROUND CLOVES

This spice mixture can be varied if you do not have all the ingredients, 20 grams/4 TSP of allspice can be substituted for cloves/white pepper/anis/coriander.

It's Not Easy Being Clean...

2009-10-13T09:57:00.000+02:00

Having been raised on a farm in Texas, I grew up thinking that dirt was a good thing, as the quality of the soil directly affected the crops and therefore the family income! I played with mud instead of Playdough. Sweat was natural and odors were common. And dust was a fact of life and we just never got too bothered about it. Only as I got "citified" did things change somewhat, to the point where I was advised by my children's doctor to NOT bathe them more than 2-3 times a week or less as they both had very sensitive skins and were better off with their natural protection. However, as my husband will testify, I still don't get too bothered by dust...*sigh* I will never make a good German "hausfrau".

But while I am not the cleanest of housekeepers, I do know a lot about cleanliness, indeed some things I wish I didn't know... (keep reading at your own peril!!)

The human body is home to over 1000 different kinds of bacteria. In fact, there are more germs on your body than the population of the United States. We actually have more bacteria living on us than there are cells in our bodies!

Housedust is composed of fibers from carpets and textiles, mold and plant spores, food and plant fibers, dander and skin flakes from people and animals, insect and spider parts, pollen, small bits of paper, household insulation and foam backing from carpets, and other minute particles. Dust mites feed off of dead skin cells and of course their excrement also makes up a component of dust. It is this substance that is one of the most common sources of allergens and what people refer to when they say they are allergic to "dust".

Sorry to disillusion some of you, but there is no "5-second rule" when it comes to dropping food on the ground. Bacteria need no time at all to contaminate something, all they need is contact!

And yes, in theory you can catch some diseases by sitting on a public toilet seat. Such locations have been found to have both common and unfamiliar strains of bacteria such as E.coli, hepatitis A, streptococcus, staphylococcus, and shigella, as well as strains of common cold and flu viruses and sexually transmitted organisms. But if your immune system is healthy and you always wash your hands afterwards, then you are at very little risk. Most disease-causing organisms cannot live long on the surface of a toilet seat and the chances of contamination to your buttocks or thighs could only occur if you have an open wound when sitting on one, and even then it is very unlikely.

Killing all bacteria, however, is actually less healthy as most of the over 1000 species of bacteria that make their home on the human body are beneficial to us in a mutual relationship -- we keep them alive and they keep us healthy. Despite some advertisements to the contrary, the more bacteria free you are, the more vulnerable you are to disease.

Another reason not to invest in anti-bacteria soaps, is that they have been found to be no more effective at preventing infection than regular soaps. In fact, those products containing triclosan actually can alter hormone levels and reduce libido.

Recent studies of children have shown that those who had an "overly hygienic environment" during their early years (up to age 10) were more at risk to develop asthma and eczema as well as more prone to allergies as they got older. One of the theories behind these results is that the young immature immune systems need to be challenged on a broad scale in order to build up a flexible pathogen resistance.

The origin of soap was actually a waste product of wood ash and animal fat that was polluting the Tiber river coming down from Mount Sapo. Women found it aided in getting their clothes clean when they did the laundry on the river's banks.

And early anti-bacterial substance that was used by Egyptians as well as Aztecs was urine. The key chemical in it, urea, was actually effective in treating cuts and burns as it kills bacteria and fungi which are the major sources of infection.

The founder of the Methodist church in the 1700's, John Wesley, is the author of the famous quote "Cleanliness is next to Godliness." but he was actually referring to clothes, not personal hygiene.

Society was not always so picky about personal hygiene. In Roman times, the sweat, dirt and oil that a famous athlete or gladiator scraped off himself was sold to their fans in small vials. Roman women reportedly used it as a face cream.

The medieval saint, St. Lutgard's saliva was believed to heal the sick, as were the crumbs chewed by another saint, St. Colette. A man sent from England to the Netherlands for St. Lidwina's washing water, to apply to his afflicted leg. The water from St. Eustadiola's face- and hand-washing was reported to have cured blindness and other illnesses.

Austrian men would place a handkerchief under their armpits while dancing and when it had soaked up their sweat and scent, they would use it to wipe the face of the woman they were courting, believing she would be aroused by the odor and fall in love.

King Henry IV was one of the first royal monarch's to try and move his society towards more cleanliness as he insisted that his knights bathe at least once in their lives during the ritual of knighthood. The rest of society, however, remained firm in their beliefs that bathing was unhealthy. Queen Elizabeth I was regarded as a model of cleanliness in her time. She declared that she bathed once every 3 months, whether she needed it or not. Actually the custom of daily bathing is something that has become common only after the 1950's.

Monks of an offshoot of the Hindu religion in India, the Jain Dharma, are forbidden to bathe any part of their bodies besides their hands and feet. Their belief is the act of bathing might jeopardize the lives of millions of microorganisms.

If you eat a lot at fast food restaurants, you might want to skip this factoid! Recent investigations have shown that the ice machines in fast food restaurants have more bacteria and higher concentrations of harmful bacteria than the water in your toilet bowl (assuming you keep your toilet reasonably clean). Fresh toilet bowl water is not necessarily contaminated and pets drinking from the toilet bowl may know more than their owners about clean water!

Most infections are transmitted by people handling something with germs on it and then rubbing their eyes or putting their fingers in their mouths or touching food that then goes in their mouths. Actually the mouth has a lot of natural defenses against germ attack. "Mother's spit" is not as unsanitary as it might seem as saliva is a natural anti-baterial fluid!But our eyes have very little natural protection.

One of the most contaminated objects in hospitals are TV remote controls! They are worse than toilet handles and are believed to be a major contributor to the estimated 90,000 annual deaths from infections acquired in hospitals.

Sufficiently grossed out now? Thought so! I will therefore refrain from the various facts about dental hygiene and lavatory practices except to refer back to back to last week's Tidbits: NASA spent over $23 million dollars designing the toilet for the Space Shuttle which uses suction technology of 860 liters per minute so that it will work in zero gravity (part of the reason why positioning oneself on the seat is so important). Still, I think that is an awful lot of money for a toilet that sucks...

Yes, NASA is bombing the Moon, no, they are not after Osama Ben Laden...

2009-10-07T18:06:00.004+02:00

This week, Friday, 9 October, 2009, NASA will send a missile into the Moon at twice the speed of a bullet. As part of the LCROSS (Lunar CRater Observing and Sensing Satellite) mission, scientists have selected a target close to the Moon's south pole. At this time the plan is to target crater Cabeus A, but the exact location is still being determined based on data and information that scientists and mission controllers are gathering as the satellite approaches the moon.

This mission was launched back in June and is part of an ongoing program that NASA has to try and find any water ice that might be trapped in crater shadows. The Moon is primarily an airless, dusty/rocky desert and about the only place where water could be trapped is in areas that do not receive any sunlight. Water is a critical component in making any manned moonbase project a success. Transporting water and other goods from Earth to the moon's surface is expensive. Finding natural resources, such as water ice, on the moon could help expedite lunar exploration.

The missile impact is expected to be so powerful that a huge plume of debris will be ejected. Just as the impact of the Shoemaker-Levy comet fragments into Jupiter revealed a lot of information on the compostion of Jupiter's atmosphere, scientists hope hope that water ice or water vapour will be ejected in the cloud that is thrown up from the impact. As the ejecta rises above the target crater’s rim and is exposed to sunlight, any water-ice, hydrocarbons or organics will vaporize and break down into their basic components.

Following the missile, another part of the spacecraft will be taking pictures and analyzing the ejecta for evidence of water. The instruments include two near-infrared spectrometers, a visible light spectrometer, two mid-infrared cameras, two near-infrared cameras, a visible camera and a visible radiometer. The spectrometers analyze the breakdown of the ejecta materials into their basic components. The infrared cameras will help determine the amount and distribution of the water vapor and the visible camera will tract the location of the impact and the debris plume.

All this will take place in just four minutes and then this craft itself will crash into the Moon itself, producing an even more spectacular explosion. What is interesting about this is that this second explosion should be visible in the 10-12 inch and larger telescopes of amateur astronomers! The projected impact at the lunar South Pole is currently: Oct 9, 2009 at 4:30 a.m. Pacific Daylight Savings Time, which is 9 hours behind Central European Daylight Savings Time of 1:30 PM. So we in Europe won't get much chance to have a peak, but if you get up early enough in the US, depending on where you are, you might be able to see it.

Otherwise, NASA will be providing a live broadcast of this event starting at 3:15 AM PDT which can be seen online: www.nasa.gov/ntv. Additional information on the LCROSS mission can be found here: www.nasa.gov/mission_pages/LCROSS/main/index.html.

No, this is not an attack on an alien base on the moon. Nor is it a misguided attempt of Obama's administration to root out a new Al-Qaeda hiding place. It is not vandalism or scientist's frustration with the lack of funding for space science. It is a valid and useful experiment and a good way to find information without the expense and hazards of a moon landing to bring back samples to Earth.

And while there is some controversy about such an experiment, it should be noted that this is not the first impact by spacecraft on the moon. This past June, the Japan space agency, JAXA, sent its robotic probe, the Kaguya spacecraft, on a controlled impact into the moon after the completion of its mission and the exhaustion of its fuel supply. As this happened on the dark side of the moon, there was not a reach chance to view the ejecta from the impact, but there was a brilliant explosion that was caused purely by the energy of the impact and it was viewed by a number of astronomers with some spectacular images captured by the Anglo-Australian Telescope in New South Wales.

And in 2006, ESA's SMART-1 concluded its scientific observations of the Moon through a small impact on the lunar surface. This kind of conclusion to a lunar mission has actually been common through the years and scientists have watched them closely, gleaning what additional data they could from the debris of such impacts. Observatories around the world have conducted fast imaging of impacts and of the associated ejected material, and spectroscopic analysis, to try and find hints about the mineralogy of the impact areas.

However, this "accepted practice" has not caused the controversy in the past that this week's mission has raised, with some folks exaggerating the impact crater size as being up to 5 miles, others stating that it "...is contrary to space law prohibiting environmental modification of celestial bodies." And even some folks worried about it triggering potential "...conflict with known extraterrestrial civilizations on the moon as reported on the moon in witnessed statements by U.S. astronauts." *sigh*

In truth, there is no actual explosives on board, and the impact vehicle is just the upper stage of the rocket that launched the mission in the first place. It is estimated that it will excavate a crater approximately 20 meters wide and almost 3 meters deep and more than 250 metric tons of lunar dust will be lofted above the surface of the moon. It is not expected to be a spectacular explosion. Though at this time it is unknown about the kind of response we can expect to get from the lunar aliens... (this last sentence is just a joke!!!)

Why I Should Be Glad I'm NOT an Astronaut...

2009-10-06T00:01:00.000+02:00

OK, I admit it, I am an über-geek. However, for most of my adult life I have been in a position to explain very technical things to non-technical persons (laypeople). Thru the years I have acquired a broad base of factual knowledge that I constantly add to. This comes in very handy at social occasions when stimulating "small talk" is appropriate, and also makes me very good at playing Trivial Pursuit.

As I kind of use this blog as a conversation with yawl, my "Dear Readers...", I decided to start a little project I am calling "Tuesday Tidbits" in which I will be posting a collection of what I consider are interesting facts on various subjects. If you also want to play along, drop me a line and I will mention it here. And if I can get inspired, I might even come up with a cool button to go along with this.

Today, I give you some of the facts that I use to help me overcome that twinge of regret at "the road not taken", namely "Why I should be glad I'm NOT an astronaut..."

It stinks. Literally. And we are talking nausea-inducing smells sometimes. While the current ISS is not nearly as bad as the old Russian MIR space station, and after an hour or two the sensation wears off, those first few hours can be very hard. Where do the smells come from? Well along with the outgassing from plastics and synthetic materials, you of course have a mixture of various body odors from astronauts who have not really had a good shower during their entire tour of duty and who have only one set of clothes. And of course various lingering food odors, and the residue odors after the food has been "processed" by the bodies of the various ISS personnel. (See below where I talk about the toilet). Oh yes, there are fans and scrubbers and additional oxygen is added, but just ask any sailor who has served on a submarine...these devices are far from perfect! Yes, the human nose is adaptable and very few visitors to the ISS will really complain about the small inconvenience this poses, but the fact remains...it stinks!

At some point in time, everyone who travels to space gets space-sickness. The space docs know this is caused by the inner ears being confused by the lack of gravity and the visual cues also being mixed up. Sometimes it is not only nausea, but also headaches and loss of body and limb sense. Can you imagine not knowing where your arm is? Seriously, it doesn't sound like fun. I mean I've been on dates in college where the guy claimed to not know where his hand was, but I think this is a bit different...

Weightlessness may make the scales go to zero, but it makes you look fat. We are talking serious bloating here. Fluids shift upwards and towards your extremities, sinuses congest, faces get puffy, we are talking some of the worst symptoms of PMS here. Not attractive!

In addition, weightlessness causes bones to lose calcium and increases the chances of forming kidney stones. Here I am already fighting osteoporosis on the ground, and outerspace would do even more damage in a very short period of time. Not only that, it causes muscles to atrophy and the heart to shrink. Can you imagine how much extra exercise those astronauts have to do to combat those problems. (I hate exercise by the way, so this really is a negative for me!!) The fact that one gets taller (up to 2 inches or 5 cm!) is some compensation, but it only lasts while you are in space.

Sleeping arrangements are kind of odd. Most astronauts attach their sleeping bags to the wall of their little cubicle. Except there are only 2 cubicles and usually a minimum of 3 crew members. The odd astronaut(s) out are allowed to attach their sleeping bags anywhere inside the space station. Astronaut Susan Helms slept in the huge Destiny Laboratory Module by herself while she was living aboard the International Space Station. Some of the shorter astronauts, who of course do not suffer from claustrophobia (something astronauts are screened against), have even made a nice little nest for themselves in the larger storage drawers.

While the astronauts are scheduled for 8-hours sleep periods, their circadian rhythms are often thrown off by the 16 sunrises per day. Shuttles command crews have even more difficulty when they try and sleep in the cockpit with bright sunlight and warmth entering the cockpit every 90 minutes, though sleeping masks do help. The good news is that most snorers are reported to stop snoring while they are sleeping in space.

It is a good thing that most astronauts don't snore in space, as all noises are heard while living in such cramped quarters. At least those that are above the ambient noise level which has slowly been rising as more and more experiments and equipment is installed on the ISS, although some improvements have been made. All ISS astronauts used to have to wear earplugs all day, but now are only required to wear them 2-4 hours per day. That did not stop two ISS crewmen from suffering permanent hearing loss during their 6-month stay that ended in April.2006, as reported by Russian authorities, though NASA refuses to comment on the health of individual astronauts. The living quarters of the ISS is the noisiest module, with current goals in the sleeping cubicles at a maximum of 50 decibels (dB) and in the work area of 60 dB. Decibels are measured on a logarithmic scale, meaning 60 dB is 10 times louder than 50dB. For comparison, most window air conditioning units or washing machines or your electric toothbrush operate at noise levels of around 50 dB, while phones, alarm clocks and vacuum cleaners operate at around 60dB.

While there are some funny videos of ISS crew members eating in space, in truth it is more of a chore than a pleasure. While swallowing in zero gravity is not really a problem, getting some flavor into what astronauts swallow has been. Salt and pepper spices in liquid form have been included. All food is canned dehydrqted or otherwise packaged so it doesn't need to be refrigerated. In fact, there isn't anything served cold on the ISS, it is either heated or served at room temperature, nor is their any fresh fruits, vegetables, etc. Most things have some sort of sauce on them so that they will stick to a spoon, a fork is not needed. And of course the antics of squeezing things from plastic pouches and maneuvering food from containers to mouths requires a lot of concentration. It is not a good idea to have bits of dinner floating about in the space station...

Which brings us to the next topic...going to the bathroom in space. NASA did make an attempt a building some sort of waste elimination facility into its space suits, which meant a fitted condom attached to a waste packet for men and a molded gynecological insert for women...but it gave up and passed out diapers to all. Both the shuttle commode and the ISS have bathrooms, but using the toilet requires that crew members precisely align themselves in the dead center of the seat. A mock-up of the toilets is used during astronaut training, complete with a built-in camera and personal technician to aid in viewing the video to assist in training all the crew members on how to position themselves. One would definitely have to lose one's modesty in order to become an astronaut... Oh, and I guess I should also mention that just recently, while the ISS was boasting of its largest complement of crew members, 13 in total, one of the two toilets failed. It came close to being a real crisis before they got it repaired.

While zero gravity may at times be fun, returning astronauts report extreme difficulty in moving and controlling their arms and legs after touchdown. But the biggest adjustment comes for crew members who have spent longer terms in outerspace who say they have to remember that when they let go of objects, they fall!

And of course there are the dangers no one wants to talk about, like radiation. Radiation inside the ISS, as on the former Russian space station Mir and the Space Shuttle, is actually released by the materials that make up the vehicles and is caused by the cosmic rays colliding with the hulls, releasing secondary particles. While the exposure of a crew member spending around 3 months time in this environment amounts to the equivalent risk of someone on Earth getting radiation from natural sources in one year, it is therefore deemed an " acceptable risk". The problem is, that the effects of this kind of radiation on the body are not well understood. And there is not clear way to translate the estimated radiation exposure into the increased risk of cancer. One study puts an estimate of a 20% higher risk of dying of some kind of cancer, and a number of crew members who have spent 6 months or more in this kind of environment have already shown chromosomal abnormalities. It is therefore impossible for authorities or even the crew members themselves to make an informed decision about the potential damage their job may be doing to their health. Sounds pretty risky to me...

And then the biggie, the vacuum of space. Now science fiction movies like to show people exploding. Actually, you wouldn't explode, unless you were holding your breath, in which case the sudden depressurization would cause your lungs to rupture. But lack of oxygen in your blood would be what kills you, and that would take about 2 minutes, and you would probably be conscious the whole time. Of course it wouldn't be pleasant, as water on your tongue and eyeballs would boil away (not from heat, but from the lack of pressure). Scientists know this from and experiment where a space suit failed and the tester was exposed to near vacuum for 15 seconds. Thus far there have not been any ruptures to the ISS and it has had a number of hits from micro-meteors which have damaged several systems, but nothing critical...thus far.

So, once again I have talked myself out of any regrets about not following that career path. I'm glad I wrote this down, as sometimes I do have to go back and read it to remind myself, especially about the camera in the practice toilet...!

Tune in next week for "It's Not Easy Being Clean..."

The Way It Goes...

2009-09-14T13:27:00.004+02:00

OK, I guess it is about time I "come clean" and admit that behind all the geekiness, buried beneath all the layers of "Domestic Goddess", prior to the addition of DDs and DH to my life, even before my "Excellent European Adventure", I was....a rock chick. I will give you minute to digest this and allow you to form your own mental images of this as, thankfully, there are very few pictures of this time. Oh, there are a few polaroids that show the purple streaks in the long blonde hair, and the leopard-print jacket (that I still own BTW, though it has been used as a Halloween costume a couple of times by the kids). And no, I did not wear a dog collar and did not go in for piercings. I was more New Wave techno-rock than hardrock or metal (think Devo rather than Rolling Stones). But I was very much a part of Dallas's Deep Ellum alternative culture scene in the late 80's, going as far as being not only a groupie to a number of bands, but even worked as a roadie and a back-up singer! In fact, one evening at the 500 Cafe, I was onstage for a couple of sets after Edie Brickell and the New Bohemians. If I ever figure out the the connection between Paul Simon and Kevin Bacon, I will have my 6 degrees!

While I am sure there is some bad video in which I can be seen, I am not in possession of it, and most of the photos I have are ones where I was holding the camera, so I can't even show you me onstage. And the one album I was on only came out only on vinyl, and I am listed as an "Executive Producer" rather than back-up singer (meaning I loaned my electronic keyboard and was a go-fur, critic, adviser, cheerleader, tamborine player AND back-up singer!). And even if I could show you such a video clip, I am not sure I am as brave as fellow geek/blogger Jeff. I'm sure at some point my DDs will take a look at this blog and I am not sure if I am ready to endure their peals of laughter at their Mom's wilder days. And so I chicken out and provide you with this link, showing T-4-2 in their post FA days when they actually had a contract with Columbia and made a couple of CDs and went on tour and everything.

So as my contribution to Soccer Mom in Denial's

I give you T-4-2 performing "The Way It Goes". I used to sing and play in this one, but not in this video. I let your imagination run wild! Now I will go skulk away in embarrassment...

09-09-09

2009-09-10T13:49:00.004+02:00

The world did not end yesterday, despite what predictions you may have seen on YouTube. I waited until it was "today" all over the world before announcing this, just in case. While I have never bought into numerology or astrology, the significance of this calendrical anomaly has caused me to stop and think a minute.

It represents the last set of repeating, single-digit dates that we'll see for almost a century(next one is January 1, 2101).

No matter how your culture writes the date, in the Gregorian calendar, it is the same all over the world. (In Europe for example we write date-month-year, in the US we write month-date-year, in some computer programs, data is sorted year-month-date.

Lots of folks got married yesterday. I mean LOTS of folks, all over the world. No excuses for those husbands to forget their anniversaries!

A few lucky children in the world turned 9 years old yesterday. Some of them even got their pictures in the paper because of it. How cool is that!

Apple iTunes 9 was launched yesterday. This new version supports Blue-ray technology. I know a number of technogeeks are celebrating.

All 13 albums of the Beatles were digitally remastered and released yesterday. Anyone got €200 to spare (about US$ 300) ? Now for me, this is reason to celebrate! And the video game the Beatles Rock Band was also released, for those who want to try and imitate these legends.

The significance of the number nine should also be examined. It is known that if 9 is multiplied by any other number, from 2 to 9, the two digits of the answer will add up to nine. For instance, 2 x 9 = 18. 18, made up of 1 and 8. (OK, yes, I am a math geek.)

Tim Burton released his new film "9," an animated tale about the apocalypse, yesterday. It is supposed to be the next cult hit.

In some cultures 9 is lucky, but in some it is just the opposite. For instance, in China, nine is associated with long life due to its similarity in pronunciation to the local word for long-lasting. While in Japan, the word for nine is a homophone of the word for suffering, so the number is considered highly unlucky.

One thing you couldn't do yesterday is look for LOLcats. It was declared A Day Without Cats. But you can find them again today!

Numerologists (please note, these are not scientists!) believe that mystical significance or vibrations can be assigned to each numeral one through nine, and different combinations of the digits produce tangible results in life depending on their application. As the final numeral, the number nine holds special rank. It is associated with forgiveness, compassion and success on the positive side as well as arrogance and self-righteousness on the negative. I have not yet heard their self-congratulations on how right they were...

Google, in its new tradition of creating logos for various occasions, marked the event at 9:09 in the US with a special logo . Some folks consider this further proof that Google is run by aliens.

Some biblical mystics also weighed in on this date as being very auspicious, as it is the upside-down number of "the beast" - satan = 666.

Internet marketing got a "boost" yesterday. Not sure if this is a good thing, but Stompernet has reduced its membership fee from $800 to $1.99 per month.

There was nothing significant that I noticed in my life yesterday. but if you had something in yours, please let me know.

My Dark Side...

2009-09-08T09:34:00.006+02:00

OK, I guess it is time to share one of my dark secrets. I am a closet goth-metal fan. Well kind of. At least I am a fan of one band of this genre, Evanescence and their lead singer Amy Lee.

So, as one of my long-missed entries into Soccer Mom in Denial's

I give you "Broken", which she does with Seether. Gloomy I know, but like singing the blues, it somehow makes me feel better... (sorry you have to go to the link yourself, I still have figured out how to embed a video!)

Letting Go...

2009-09-06T13:48:00.003+02:00

Summer is over. Maybe not officially. Maybe not according to the weather in your area. But here, the rains and winds have arrived, and the only soft fruits available on the markets are some pale, imported strawberries and hard but not very sweet nectarines. We are fortunate with our blackberry bush in the backyard that will keep giving my DDs their daily snacks until November. But they ripen more slowly as there is less sunlight on a daily basis now.

The change in this part of the world is very noticeable. Already there is a chill in the air and leaves have started turning and falling in anticipation. I am cold already! For a little while longer it will still be light in the mornings when we get up, but that will not last. We get a short reprieve with the change from the Daylight Savings Time, but as it doesn't occur until the last Sunday in October, (25th October this year) it almost seems like too little too late. By the end of this month it will get darker and darker in the mornings, dawn arriving almost an hour later than it does now.

And as if the weather, the length of days, the lack of soft fruit selections and my aching bones were not enough to indicate that summer is gone, the kids have started back to school! While I have actually thought I looked forward to this (as do so many Moms!), somehow this year I am a bit melancholy. You see this year DD2 started in middle school. She was so excited and has taken the change in venue and routine as a new adventure. Unlike with DD1, she was not at all afraid and not lacking in confidence in any way. In some ways she is a lot more mature than her older sister.

And that, I guess, is my source of anguish. I have lost "my baby". She appears to be wiser and smarter than I think of her. Her favorite phrase lately is "I know Mom!" And she does. And I knew this day would come and have tried to prepare myself. But I find myself mourning for the loss of her childhood just as much as I do the end of the long, warm, lazy summer days...

My Granny, my mother's mother, used to say, "Raising kids is a series of little deaths and letting-go's". I guess she knew what she was talking about.

Can she bake a cherry pie...

2009-06-09T18:48:00.004+02:00

Well I now consider it official, summer is on its way. Despite the fact that I still need a sweater because the Dutch weather is basically cold! And despite the fact that my allergies tell me it is still in the middle of spring. Today I found the sign that tells me that warmer, sunnier days are definitely on their way...cherries! Beautiful, dark and bright, rich, florid-, scarlet-, crimson-, claret-, magenta-, vermilion-, titian-, maroon-, garnet-, wine-, cardinal-, burgandy-, ruby- and camine- red-colored fruits, fresh from the orchards. It used to be that strawberries were my heralds of summer. But nowadays it seems with the innovations of greenhouses and artificial environments, those berries can be found almost year-round. And something is lost in them. Rarely these days do you find a container of strawberries that exude the essence of the sun they have captured.

But cherries are still grown on trees, in orchards and still need sunlight to ripen. And that sun, even though it may shine in a different time zone (the ones I found today I think are from Israel) not only turns them those luscious colors, and sweetens them with a natural taste that can't compare to any chemical flavorings that science can come up with, but it also sends a promise...warmer days are coming!

I did think about baking a pie, but a kilo doesn't seem to last very long around here. Maybe I need to go to the market again tomorrow...

Home is Where the Heart Is

2009-06-04T13:44:00.003+02:00

There come times in the life of every ex-pat when you get so "homesick" that it could almost be diagnosed as depression. I use the plural here, because it happens more than once, and each time is different and calls for a different "cure".

For new arrivals who are just settling in, the first bout hits about 6 weeks into their new adventure. That's about when the "new" wears off and the supplies from home start to run out and suddenly there are the cravings for familiar favorite foods or TV programs or toiletries or even toilet paper! Kids are whiny and cranky but usually easily distracted by a special treat or outing and they will usually recover within 24 hours. Adults generally need a good "moan" (to use the British term) where they can bend a friend's ear about how ridiculous they find the rules/food/TV programs/prices/traffic/weather/etc. in their new home. With this remedy allowing them to vent their frustrations, they too can recover in a day or so. If, however, their friend happens to be back "home", the the remedy will only prolong the suffering as they will not really get the release they need and often will end up feeling even worse after such a conversation. So the tip here is: If you are feeling homesick during the first 3 months of your ex-pat status, DO NOT CALL HOME!! Instead find another ex-pat who has been here a bit longer and pour out your heart. I promise, you will feel better for it.

Subsequent bouts of homesickness will occur over the next 18 months, but generally none will be as severe and during these times it will often help to touch base with the folks back home to find out that you are not missing as much as you thought you were. Some families even return for a visit during this time and find out that they have already adapted to their new ex-pat lives so well that they have things they really like about living in their new country. In fact, this can be a fairly idyllic phase, allowing the ex-pat to appreciate the things about the new life while still cherishing a lot about "home". If departure for home occurs at this time, it will be with a small amount of relief, few regrets, and a lot of good memories. Most of the frustrations will get lost in the mist of time and chaos of new adventures and there will generally be no lasting bad impressions.

However, after about 2 years in a foreign land, an ex-pat starts to find that things they have been a bit irritated about or disliked slowly become true annoyances and points of contention. It usually starts out slow, with a build-up of frustration over a number of small things, but at some point it becomes a real rage accompanied by tears, curses, angry tirades and outbursts often at some undeserving target and it is not really as recognizable as "homesickness" until one gets down to the real root cause of the anger and discovers the pain. In the depths of one of the meltdowns, the sufferer will inevitably utter the phrase "I want to go home..." at which point it becomes clear: Phase 2 Homesickness is in full manifestation.

For those ex-pats who can see the end of their exile coming within a year or so, such an interlude can usually be suffered through with the promise of relief circled in red on a calendar. Kids can be helped by getting to actually count down the days until they know they will be back on familiar territory. Adults can be ameliorated by mass quantities of alcohol and/or chocolate, and phone calls to friends and family where they make plans for when they have returned to the fold.

But there are those ex-pats who face a longer term of re-location, possibly with no definable end in sight. For these poor suffering souls, the "homesickness" can take on new depths and can last for up to a month. While the standard remedies mentioned above do provide some relief, they are not sufficient. A higher level of intervention is required, namely: "Find home where you are." By this I mean that those cravings that have been suppressed, those longings and the feelings that you are missing out on "life", those deep urges for your "native culture" need to be met in some fashion. I have a few suggestions for this:

Find other ex-pats from your home country, preferably some familiar with where you were living, and spend some time with them.
Eat comfort foods you grew up with. This may mean paying the high prices for ingredients that you find in ex-pat shops (I mean $3.50 for Kraft macaroni and cheese?!!) but consider it as medicine rather than food.
Have your family and friends back home send you care packages including the local newspaper, Sunday comics, books, magazines, favorite cereals and candy, special treats that you have been missing.
Put together photo albums of your ex-pat life including pictures of things that are so different and unusual that the folks back home would not believe it without seeing it. As an alternative, you can blog about it some of your experiences or write in a journal or newsletter home. Taking yourself out of the experience to look at it as an observer will help to relieve some of the tension that has built up from living it.
Watch TV programs from your home country. Search them out on the internet, or rent video compilations. Even if all you can find is local news programs online, get yourself a good dose of your home culture and daily life. If you can't find TV, then read newspapers from home or magazines or watch an old movie you saw originally when you were home. Indulge yourself, get immersed in it, recall the feelings of being "home". And if all else fails,
Go somewhere else for a while. Take a long weekend or a week vacation in a different country. Experience anew the uncertainty and frustrations of a foreign country and you will come back to appreciate how well you have adapted to your adopted home.

A word of caution here: Despite how tempted you may feel to run back "home" to try and relieve your symptoms, this solution usually will only backfire and cause your misery on returning to your ex-pat life to be compounded. So while a trip to a different country can help, a trip to the home country will usually only make things worse and cause the homesick period to last a lot longer.

After more than three years as an ex-pat, the bouts of homesickness come at random and sometimes unexpected intervals, but primarily they are mild and can be headed off with one or more of the suggestions above. But...

Every once in a while, something will happen to trigger a very serious episode where thoughts of just chucking everything and running back to your "old familiar life" become almost overwhelming. And even after living overseas for over 23 years now, I find myself succumbing to this sickness and thinking totally irrational thoughts. And the really ridiculous part is I have lived as an adult overseas now for longer than I have lived as an adult in what I still somehow consider "home". But there is no explaining that to one's heart.

The trigger for this, ironically, was our quick trip back home to visit family during the May break. We only had 13 days, and that was already taking DD1 out of school for 3 days. But after traveling time and jet lag there were only about 10 days and despite cramming in an activity or visit almost every day, it wasn't enough. I barely got to gab with my best girlfriend, I didn't get to visit more than 15 mins total with my sister-in-law, I was limited to a lunch visit with my best guyfriend and his family and a quick overnight trip to see my favorite cousin. I feel like I hardly had any time with my Mom. And of course because I was traveling with my family, I did not get to overindulge (like 3 or 4 times) in eating my favorite foods, or have a chance to just gab and gossip without being constantly interrupted, or do any real shopping (the trips to Walmart to stock up on necessities and groceries with family in tow DO NOT COUNT!!). And it rained almost every day so I did not even get to experience the usually warm Texas weather. In short, despite being "home" I did not get to feel "at home". It was, like all vacations for mothers accompanied by their families, a short period of intense stress and chaos and with very little downtime.

And instead of feeling like I was recharged by my visit, I came back uneasy and irritated and mad at all the daily life irritations that I usually just ignore. I hate the traffic. I can't find anything that I want to cook or eat. I absolutely despise the weather and can't seem to get warm enough, despite it already being June. There is nothing I want to see on TV. I can't even stand the songs on the radio. And I am so tired of speaking a danged foreign language I cannot tell you. I find myself becoming stubborn and critical of everything and almost paralyzed at starting anything. I don't sleep well at night, and I am tired and cranky during the day, and I am generally just a miserable person to be around these days.

So I find myself following all my best advice, indulging in moan-fests, eating comfort foods, catching up on American sitcoms on the internet (including programs I don't really follow regularly but have heard about), pouring over US magazines that I rarely even glance at on the newsstands, and still I find myself angry and depressed and frustrated and generally just hating my life.

Therefore I have finally "broken the emergency glass" and booked a trip back home, alone, for 3 weeks, did I mention by myself? Now if I can only hold out until 10.July without driving everyone around me crazy, maybe I will recover enough to come back and I won't have made everyone so mad here that they will actually be glad to have me come back.

"...If you’re traveling with a child, place your mask on your face first, then assist your child.”

2009-05-30T22:02:00.003+02:00

"...put on your own oxygen mask before attempting to help those around you." If you have ever travelled on an airplane, you have heard those words or other similar emergency instructions. And if you are like me, you have listened to them and known they made sense. And Oprah has had various shows counseling the wisdom of such advice in other situations, the message being "Look after yourself first so that you can be in better shape to take care of others."

But whoever wrote those words obviously was not a mother. Sorry Oprah, I know you mean well, but until you have been a parent, you don't know what you are talking about. Or maybe you do, as I don't know the sacrifices you would be willing to make for your 4-footed babies.

It isn't just the daily interruptions: answering questions while we are on a phone call, missing our favorite TV programs in order to calm last-minute homework meltdowns, interrupting our bath ritual to stop a squabble between siblings, letting our kids have the last cookie or finish the ice cream telling ourselves we don't really need the dessert, forgoing that pair of shoes for ourselves so that we can afford to give our offspring that wardrobe item that would break our budget.

But tell me what mother, what parent for that matter would deny their child blood, bone marrow, kidney, lung liver, skin.... anything that could be given that would help their child in need. The costs in money, health, emotional distress, job security or anything else be damned.

We all do it. We consider it part of the job as a parent. You give yourself to your children and pay no attention to the toll it takes. And even when you do know, when you realize that you are on your last nerve, you are draining your batteries, that what you are doing or what your child is putting you through is raising your blood pressure, aging your body, greying your hair, making you a nervous wreck, driving you crazy...do you stop?

I don't know how you answer that question for yourself. I know that everyone has their own limits. But for me, as long as I hold out hope that whatever I am doing, all that I am going through, all the frustration and stress and worries and tantrums and breakdowns will eventually lead to a better life for my child and a light at the end of the tunnel (even if I can't see it), means that I will sacrifice myself, my health, my sanity, my self esteem, my happiness whatever it takes.

And make no mistake, dealing with a teenager means you sacrifice a lot. Dealing with a troubled teen means the cost can be very dear. Which is to say that my health is suffering. Weight problems, blood pressure issues, fatigue, listlessness, mood swings, low resistance to every germ and virus that comes around, etc. And while I know what causes it, and what I need to do about it, I have not yet gotten to the point where I can "put on my own mask first".

I know I need to. I plan to. One of these days I will. Soon. I promise. But right now I just don't come first. I blame Mother Nature.

Getting back on the horse...

2009-05-27T18:47:00.004+02:00

I know. I've been gone. A while. Sorry. It was a lot longer than I expected. But tbh I just have not had the energy to do more than hold my life together with chewing gum and baling wire (at least that's how we fix things in Texas and that's how I feel like I've been surviving so far).

But if a life crisis has drawn me away from blogging, a mini-crisis has drawn me back. You see, I am losing one of my best mates here. And while we have not had the almost daily interaction that we once had as she already left me once to move a 40+ min drive away, I did get to see her on a regular basis and now I face the prospect that this will no longer be the case. And believe me I am kicking myself that I did not make more of the time in the past year to avail myself of her physical presence. Most of you readers know her just from the virtual world. I was blessed to play with her IRL. And believe me, you come away with your face hurting from smiling, your sides hurting from laughing, and your perspective on the world slightly askew just because she has made you see things in a different way.

One of the things she has opened my eyes to since I have known her is just how much my life here as an ex-pat is different from what it would be in the US. Her blog has basically been about her own experiences here and I identified with her a lot and also saw so much more of how I have adapted to my surroundings after 20+ years overseas. Some things are very frustrating and are part of the usual rants that ex-pats share when they get together. Others are very unique and enriching experiences that add so much to our lives.

So while I can in no way follow in the footsteps of my dear Jenn, one of the things she has taught me is that maybe I too have "Something to Say...".

So if you are here my dear readers.... "she's back!!"

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Out of the mouths of babes....

During our recent visit to Texas, my Netherlands-born children made some very astute observations about how different it is to the country they live in.

DD2 said, "Mom, in Holland they have their flowers in the fields but in Texas they have them on the sides of the road and in the middle." For those of you who have not experienced Texas in the springtime, you don't know what you are missing!

DD1 observed, "In the Netherlands and Germany you can always tell which buildings are the churches, they are always decorated and built different. But in Texas they all look like the Walmart." While she is not completely correct in her observation, her comment is a lot closer to the truth than I had realized. I didn't point out to her that Walmart is often where families go on Sunday instead of church...

DD2 asked, "Mom, how come the cows in Texas are only one color?" Tbh, this is something I would have never noticed!

Missing...No Action

2008-06-13T23:29:00.001+02:00

Yes, I am still here. Thanks for asking. Hugs and lovely thoughts to all those who have sent messages and prayers my way. I just stalled out and crashed for a bit.

There came a point in the crises where I have had to do everything I could not to lose it. The energy to rant and curse and fight just ran out, the tears dried up, and numbness and shell-shock set in. I've been going through the motions and doing the daily tasks and yet felt there was no real "life" to any of it, although unfortunately, this is my reality.

My friend Jenn's post kind of brought home to me why I have had such trouble talking about this. While in my daily life I can put on a mask and make the small talk and attempt to follow normal social conventions, in this blogsphere I use the anonymity to allow for honest, unvarnished openness. And for a while now the pain of the various struggles has been such that I could hardly bear to look at it myself, much less share it with others.

I am ok. We are ok. But finding the new "normal" is taking some time. I will be sporadic in the posts for a bit. I have lots I want to say and share and happier times to cheer myself and others on with. But the energy levels are still pretty low.

But summer is coming. It seems to take forever in this part of the world. But it is, like healing and acceptance, inevitable.

Warmest heartfelt wishes to you all. Thanks for not forgetting about me!

Where Life's Entropy Has Stalled Me...

2008-03-15T13:37:00.002+01:00

...Limbo.

Can't find words for what's going on? Maybe just one will do! Come play along at Jenn's place!

I don't want to talk about it...

2008-03-14T12:24:00.000+01:00

As part of the diagnostic process for DD1, we are making the rounds of the various "experts". So far, not counting the school doctor and the family doctor, I have seen 5 different specialists. And we are not through yet. Some of them meet with DD1 by herself, some with DD1 and myself, some with just me or DH, and some with all 3 of us.

And while they all have their own specialization and different items to focus on, and we have now filled out 3 different ratings questionnaires, for the most part they all have the same general kinds of questions. These cover not only DD1's problems, behaviour, childhood, friends, social life, etc., but also babyhood, pregnancy, health and..., and ..., and.... And then of course you get into my biography. And DH's biography. And family medical history.

Invariably, at some point in these conversations, there will be something asked that brings me to tears. It's not that hard these days I admit, with everything we have going on. But still, I wonder if all these folks are putting together a picture of our family that says "Poor kid. Dad is pretty calm but Mom is an emotional wreck. No wonder she is so messed up."

As the "primary caregiver", I am the one who has most of these appointments, even though DD1 has the problem. At least that's what I think. She, of course, has a different point of view and thinks that I am the one with the problem and she should be left alone. The thing is, since I am the one doing most of the talking with these folks, I am starting to doubt my own sanity...

Generally I am pretty talkative. I usually have something to say. (You may have noticed this if I have posted comments on your blog!) But all of a sudden I am all talked out. I feel like I have brought every skeleton in my and my family's closet out in the light. By now these people know most of our deep dark secrets, even ones we had almost forgotten.

And unlike on my blog, there is no anonymity. I sit in front of them and answer their questions and tell the tales of incidents I have tried to erase from memory and put behind me. And now my everyday reality is filled with confronting and thinking about things that I would rather not.

And this is not a healing process. They take their notes, hand me a tissue and go on with their questions. There are no hugs. No kind words of support. No sympathies and similar stories exchanged. No one to tell me it will be alright. So far they have not been judgmental. But of course I look back on my parenting mistakes and my offspring's meltdowns and feel despair and shame and defeat.

Some friends have advised that I get some sort of medical intervention for myself. But I am afraid that if I go down that road before we've gotten the solution for my beloved daughter, then I will be too tempted to not come back to reality. My reality is not pleasant. There are some days when it is hardly bearable. I long for my pillow and covers and an alternate reality.

So if I am only lurking these days, please forgive me. I do read on occasion and cry and laugh and enjoy my blogging world. But if I'm not commenting or blogging then please know, for the momment, I have nothing left give.

I've not talked about it here because right now, I don't want to talk anymore.

The experienced traveller

2008-02-29T07:55:00.000+01:00

CableGirl has a great game that lets us all take a ramble down memory lane. And I do have some stories that are not really SOS, but definitely memorable, so I'm playing this week. For a walk in someone else's shoes, check out her blog.

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I had been in Munich (München in German) for over a year, and had not done all the traveling I had originally planned, primarily because I was spending time with my German boyfriend. But there came a holiday weekend in early Spring when he was going off to visit his family and everyone else I knew in town had plans. So I decided to take an overnight train to visit Florence.

Of course my mother would have had a fit at the thought of me traveling by myself to a country where I did not know anyone or speak the language. And friends had warned me of problems on the overnight trains and pickpockets, etc. But of course, I was 29 and invincible. So off I went!

The trip was uneventful, except for being slower than I expected. On the German side it was a high-speed train, but in Italy I think it turned into the milk run. Literally. We stopped at every little station and seemed to load some sort of freight on, but very few people. This went on all night long!

Finally I arrived in Florence or Firenza as it is called in Italian. I booked a hotel room via the tourist bureau at the station. It was within walking distance and set out to wander around and find it, getting a bit lost but seeing wonderful sights at every corner. I got myself checked in and went exploring. Of course I don't do anything unprepared so I had a couple of guide books that I followed and it was glorious. Looking back now, with the perspective of many years of a full schedule and parenthood, I really squandered the leisure time I had!

I walked slowly, lingered over lunch al fresco, got lost and backtracked and had no real destination. I did not try to find the best times to visit the museums as it did not matter that I had to stand in line for hours. And while I did see most of the sights on my list in the 4 days I was there, I ran out of time and did not see everything. But I figured I would come back another time. Little did I know it would be with 2 kids, DH and my Mom and her walker in tow. The two trips cannot be compared!!

Of course I visited the museum where Michaelangelo's David is housed. In those days they did not have to search your bags, and cameras were allowed so you could take your own pictures. I took a lot of photos, but later realized I would have done better to spend my money on the postcards! But at some point I decided I wanted a picture with me in it. So I asked an English-speaking couple and they were happy to oblige. I wanted a picture of myself admiring David. And so I posed in profile, with my chin pointed slightly up in order to lengthen my neck for a more flattering image of myself. I smiled a serene smile and held the pose without realising where my eyeline was directed. Yep, just as the camera clicked, it dawned on my that I appeared to be closely examining David's privates. Needless to say, while this is a very flattering picture of me, it was not one I used on my Christmas cards. In fact, I think there is only one copy in existence!

I had a fantastic time and did not at all regret making this trip on my own. My Italian phrasebook got me through most situations, and I was adopted by a waiter in the restaurant near my hotel where I stopped to dine more than once. He could not believe such a "stunning beauty" was on her own. Of course he flirted outrageously, which I'm convinced is a genetic trait in Italian men. And when I would not go with him he tried to fix me up with his cousin! But he was not offended when I turned down all offers and the third time I was there he took over my ordering and brought me the most wonderful dish that was not on the menu: chicken breast cooked on a bed of asparagus and covered with baked over Parmasean cheese with Tagliatelli noodles. That with a wonderful local Soáve and perfect Italian Spring weather made for a truly memorable meal.

Finally it was time to go home and I headed for the train station with just under an hour's time to spare. The station is smaller than the one in Munich and so I was not surprised when they did not yet have my destination listed on the departure board. I spent some time looking through the gift shops there for any last minute souvenirs I might have missed. Thirty minutes prior, still no train bound for Munich/München. I looked at my return ticket and saw that the track was listed so I headed on over to where it should come in. There was a train there, but it was bound for Monaco. But of course I was an experienced traveler and knew that in Italy, things did not always go according to schedule, so I wasn't worried when at 15 mins. prior to departure, there was still no train to Munich and the train to Monaco was still on the track.

Now I knew that Monaco was in a different direction from Munich, so this could not be my train. I checked the departure board to see if there were any other trains going to Germany, as I knew (again the experienced traveler) that sometimes they listed the end destination for a train that might be stopping at the destination you were traveling to. No trains to anywhere in Germany.

Now I was starting to get concerned. At 5 min. to departure time, I started looking for a conductor. I found one on the platform closing the doors to the Monaco train. I asked him about the train to Munich. Of course he did not speak English or German. He tried to put me on the Monaco train. I showed him my ticket. He nodded insistently as the conductor on the end of the platform was blowing his whistle to indicated the train was about to depart. I took a leap of faith and jumped aboard.

Good thing too. In Florence (Firenza) they call Munich Monaco. To quote Mark Twain, "Those foreigners have a different word for everything!"

What I thought when I read Jenn's Singular Saturday...

2008-02-23T11:47:00.003+01:00

...Aww.

Yeah we are silly, but that's what the weekend is for, right? Wanna play too? Check out Jenn's place!

25-year-old me would never imagine...

2008-02-22T17:27:00.000+01:00

"5 Things I Never Pictured In My Future When I Was 25 Years Old."

Okay, I have been wanting to play Flashback Friday ever since CableGirl started it. But I have been having a hard time getting my mojo back and blogging more regularly. We seem to be operating in crisis mode around here much of the time, and I am tired of blogging about that. So I came across this meme when I was visiting Greeblemonkey and I thought I might combine the two..

"What would my 25 year old self be most surprised about?"

I am surprised to find how hard it was to answer this. I was a pretty astute 25 year old and kinda figured I would be married (again) and eventually have kids. I was communicating on the DARPANET (the US Defense Department Network that eventually became the Internet) with colleagues around the world, and not only about business, so while I did not necessarily predict blogging, it would have been a natural extension to my life back then.

However...

1. I never expected I would be living in Europe. And I don't think I really knew where the Netherlands was! UK, France, Germany, Italy, yeah. But Netherlands-Belgium-Luxembourg (the call it Be-Ne-Lux for a reason) I would have been fuzzy on.

2. I never expected I would not always have a career. I had worked so hard on my degree and had plans to keep going (which I did). I was doing really great in a male-dominated field that was really taking off (early Silicon Valley days). And I just figured I would combine marriage and career and motherhood the way many women of my generation were already starting to do. And though I have really only been out of the career mode for less than 5 years, there are now some tax and insurance complications which make going back to work much less attractive financially, even though the kiddos are at a point where I could logistically swing it without too much disruption (or so I tell myself). But we sat down and did the numbers a couple of months ago and it would end up costing more if I went back part-time and it would only provide a small benefit if I went to work full-time. And quite frankly, it just is not worth it. So I am now in the process of mentally adjusting my self-image to one of no longer of being a career woman. And that is really something I never expected to do.

3. I never expected that music would no longer be a big part of my life. It was for so many years. It paid the grocery bills when I was in college. It was my social life when I was 25, playing groupie and roadie and back-up singer to a techno-pop band. And I was singing in the church choir on Sundays. Nowadays it is DD1 & DD2 who do most of the singing. And when the rare occasion occurs that the spirit moves me and I sing along with some of my favorites, they no longer sit enthralled but complain that the neighbors or their friends can hear and I am embarrassing them. (sigh)

4. I never expected I would be in such poor physical condition at this age. I had no idea that I would lead such a sedentary lifestyle playing chauffeur to kids. Plus the fibromyalgia has really put a cramp in my routine. I have a lot of work to do...

5. I never expected I would be known as the "Creative Mommy". My whole position has been that I am not about to spend the outrageous amounts for the pre-packaged parties and crafts when I can come up with something equivalent by using my imagination and what I could find on sale. And I figured out the trick to the fancy birthday cakes is extra icing (it covers a lot of errors). And now I find myself with the reputation as the Mom who throws the best birthday parties and I often get calls from desperate mothers who find out they cannot get the date they want for the pool/bowling center/tennis club/horse paddock or jungle gym, so what to do with a houseful of elementary school kids? Now if I was known as the "Cheap Mommy", that would not have been so unexpected!

Well I may be stretching the "Flashback" definition, but it really took me back to try and figure out how my perspective has changed. I promise to do better next time, but if you want to see how others have told some of their tales, check out 42 (she's a real hot number!!)

Good Night Moon...

2008-02-18T18:34:00.003+01:00

Thalia's Child from Musings from a Muse gave me this award:

She said, "This woman's brain intimidates me..." Now I'm not quite sure that is a compliment! I don't really want to intimidate anyone. If anything, I try and help explain science to the layman/woman because I don't think it should be intimidating. But I will accept the award in the spirit that it is given and will be passing along my nominees in a future post. (And BTW, thanks Thalia's Child, it is nice to get blog bling!)

But I have heard comments from others who think I am pretty brainy. "Whiked smaaht" as SMID would say! So now I guess I have a reputation to maintain. Therefore I will tell you about the upcoming total lunar eclipse.

This is happening on Wednesday night (20-21.February.2008) and will be visible from most of North America as well as South America, Western Europe, Africa and Western Asia.

A total lunar eclipse is pretty special. Lunar eclipses only occur during the full moon, and while there is usually one of those a month, because the Moon's orbit around the Earth is tipped 5 degrees compared to Earth's orbit around the Sun, the Moon does not usually pass through the Earth's shadow. But about 2 - 4 times a year, it does pass through all or part of the shadow, and an eclipse occurs.

Now maybe you will hear some talking head on the TV speak about partial eclipses, umbral and penumbral shadows, and you'll think "Huh"? This is just fancy scientist talk. The Earth's shadow is actually composed of two cone-shaped parts, one nested inside the other (see diagram below) . The outer shadow or penumbra is a zone where Earth blocks some (but not all) of the Sun's rays. In contrast, the inner shadow or umbra is a region where Earth blocks all direct sunlight from reaching the Moon. In fact, so little light is blocked during the penumbral lunar eclipses that they are not really visible to the untrained naked eye. But scientists love using big words that no one understands, so one of them might mention this. Ignore this discussion.

More common events are partial lunar eclipses. This is where the Moon passes through only part of the Earth's umbral shadow. That means you see a the Full Moon which gets a "bite" taken out of one side that slowly grows bigger and then gets smaller. There will be a partial lunar eclipse visible from parts of Europe on August 16th this year.

But you really should try and view all or part of the eclipse this week if the weather in your area permits. Some of you in the western US or Australia might have had an opportunity to see the total lunar eclipse in August last year. But another total eclipse will not occur until 2010. So set your alarms or stay up late and hope for good weather!

Here is a table of the viewing times for your locations:

Total Lunar Eclipse of February 20, 2008
	North America					Other
Event	AST	PST	MST	CST	EST	GMT	GMT+1h	GMT+2h
Partial Eclipse Begins:	04:43 pm	05:43 pm	06:43 pm	07:43 pm	08:43 pm	01:43 am*	02:43 am*	03:43 am*
Total Eclipse Begins:	06:01 pm	07:01 pm	08:01 pm	09:01 pm	10:01 pm	03:01 am*	04:01 am*	05:01 am*
Mid-Eclipse:	06:26 pm	07:26 pm	08:26 pm	9:26 pm	10:26 pm	03:26 am*	04:26 am*	05:26 am*
Total Eclipse Ends:	06:51 pm	07:51 pm	08:51 pm	09:51 pm	10:51 pm	03:51 am*	04:51 am*	05:51 am*
Partial Eclipse Ends:	08:09 am*	09:09 pm	10:09 pm	11:09 pm	12:09 pm	05:09 am*	06:09 am*	07:09 am*

* Event occurs on morning of February 21, 2008
The UK and parts of western Europe are on GMT time. The Netherlands, Germany, etc. are on GMT +1. This means I'll be getting up about 4 AM (yawn!).

So what is so special about a total lunar eclipse? Won't it just look like the Moon going through all its phases within a short space of time? Yes it will. Kind of. Maybe. You see the direct light from the sun will be blocked by the body of the earth. But sunlight also passes through the Earth's atmosphere and bends. So just like dawn and dusk are not completely dark, even though the sun is still below the horizon, some light from the sun will reach the moon and the shadow will not be completely dark. Thus the shadow from an eclipse is not like the "phase" of the moon because no sunlight is shining on the dark part of the moon when it is not "full". (This is a trick question for kids in science, when they say that the dark part of the lunar phase is the shadow of the Earth blocking the Sun from the Moon!)

So what can we expect? The most beautiful total lunar eclipses are when the Earth's atmosphere filters out the blue portions of the sunlight and only allows the redder portions of the light to come through. So we could see a "blood red moon". In some earlier times and cultures this was a portent of evil or misfortune or the approach of a terrible event. I don't doubt that there will be something that occurs in the coming year that might be linked back to this event. In fact, I will even predict that someone will make this link! Check back with me in a year and I'll be happy to say "I told you so"!

If the Earth had no atmosphere, then the Moon would be completely black during a total lunar eclipse. But it can actually take on a range of colors and even change during the event. It can range from yellow to orange or red to dark brown. It will depend on how much dust, pollution and clouds are present in the atmosphere. After the volcano on Mount Pinatubo in 1992, the December total lunar eclipse was dark brown and almost black.

Now while I have you out looking at the sky, let me point out a couple of things: "Orion" is the most visible of constellations in the winter night sky and is one that almost everyone can find! Just look to the southeast. It should be one of the first constellations visible after sunset. After you find the three bright stars in his belt and the 3 more hanging down that is the scabbard for his sword, look down to the right for the bright bluish star that is his knee. This is the blue supergiant star Rigel. If you look above the belt to the left at his shoulder you see the reddish star which is a red supergiant star called Betelgeuse. Following at Orion's heels is his faithful companion, the constellation "Canis Major" which has the brightest star in the night sky Sirius. Sirius is actually a double star which is visible in small telescopes.

And of course you should look for Mars, which is the reddish object shining brightly just above
Orion. Through the course of the night Mars and Orion descend toward the western horizon.
Saturn is visible as a bright yellowish object in the late evening in the southeast sky.

Never Enough...

2008-02-16T12:16:00.002+01:00

sleep....Z-Z-Z-Z-Z.

Don't get caught napping and missing the fun! Come and play here!

Never Give an English Pop Quiz on Valentine's Day

2008-02-14T10:32:00.005+01:00

Pop Quiz: Answer the following question with as many appropriate adverbs or adverb phrases you can think of.

How do I love thee?

Answers: An awful lot, really, a hell of a lot, endlessly, joyously, very, more, sweetly, with every fiber of my being, more than I love Mimmaw and Pawpaw, soon, hugely, gladly, sleepily, immensely, tragically, more than anything in the whole world, loudly, silently, dearly, suspiciously, too, suddenly, absolutely, very much, daily, profusely, tomorrow, unexpectedly, happily, patiently, tenderly, greedily, recklessly, obnoxiously, swiftly, immeasurably, madly, kindly, angrily, nearly, rarely, enormously, endlessly, quite, far, passionately, infinitely, boldly, fabulously, oodles and boodles, defiantly, selfishly, a whole bunch, gracefully, a great deal, successfully, more than a warm bucket of spit, endearingly, smittenly, foolishly, more than a sharp stick in the eye, yearningly, almost, faithfully, exactly, carefully, bravely, adoringly, cautiously, sentimentally, quickly, repeatedly, deliberately, rapidly, overwhelmingly, safely, enthusiastically, doubtlessly, carelessly, wildly, easily, fondly, rightfully, unconditionally, politely, well, swiftly, promptly, doubtfully, seldom, shyly, lucidly, fiercely, smartly, elegantly, unbearably, sometimes, ardently, zealously, thoughtfully, wearily, speedily, awkwardly, roughly, seriously, even more than that, reverently, monstrously, silently, reluctantly, smoothly, perfectly, terribly, anxiously, horribly, often, painfully, stealthily, poignantly, quickly, tenderly, deeply, badly, devotedly, dangerously, weakly, weekly, too much, softly, solemnly, warmly, regularly, mysteriously, excessively, poorly, merrily, powerfully, truthfully, innocently, loudly, courageously, blindly, intensely, vehemently, sadly, frantically, sternly, vivaciously, fervently, not, hungrily, perfectly, stirringly, rudely, more than I can say, considerably, loyally, nervously, accidentally, truly, always, only.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Happy Valentine's Day!

Early Signs of Dementia...?

2008-02-14T08:01:00.004+01:00

It is almost Friday. I had completely spaced out about the Haiku Buckaroo Two Contest.

And while I have managed to come up with a few e-mail haikus, they don't count if they are not on my blog, and maybe you have missed them so for the sake of true public embarassment, I share them here. (If you don't want to spoil your image of me, please skip to the next blog in your reader!)

I'm so far behind...
Cannot think about contests.
Haiku is too hard!

Okay, so this is
My "Haiku Excuse" entry
Does it qualify?

I'll forward to Les.
She'll understand won't she?
I'm a bad blog-friend ;(

Why even bother?
Jami's better anyway.
Oh, she's not playing?!

Happy Valentine's!
Tired brain going Hai-ku-ckoo.
Why do I do this?

Second Impressions

2008-02-13T21:02:00.001+01:00

Conversations Monday morning.

DD2: "Mom, are you going to a party?

"No. I'm going to see someone at the airport."

Later, downstairs...

DD2:"Mom, what are all those things in the bag on the table?"

"Those are some presents for my friend."

DD2: "I knew you were going to a party!"

DH:"You're getting dressed up and putting on make-up to go to the airport?"

"Yes, I want to look nice and make a good impression."

DH: "But she has seen you already."

"Yes, but I was in my usual Mommy outfit and did not do anything to my face when I met her because I didn't know I was going to be seeing her for the first time. And I believe that second impressions are as important as first ones."

DH: "She's not going to recognize you."

The air temperature in the room suddenly drops 10 degrees as I give him one of my I-can't- believe-you-just-said-that stares.

DH "I guess I should not have said that."

"It's okay. Second chances are also important."

DH: "Well, you look very nice sweetheart."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ever have a friend who could insult you, question your honesty and integrity to the world and still make you laugh?! I don't know how SMID can write any sort of trip report that would be at all interesting and coherent. For my part it went like...

Jenn showed up at the bagel shop with SMID in tow. After recovering from shock, I hugged her. And then we ate and talked until the waitress threatened to have us evicted because there were 6 groups lined up waiting for our table. Then I took them on a tour of some of my favorite quirky statues and monuments. And we walked and talked and walked and talked. They took a lot of pictures. I mean A LOT.

Then we went to my house for a cup of tea. And we talked. And then we went to the beach and they took a lot of pictures and we talked. And then we went to a restaurant and ate and talked. Then back to the beach and we looked at the stars and talked. And then I took them to Jenn's house and we talked and looked at some photos. And on Monday I met SMID at the airport and we talked until it was time for her to board her plane.

And when I say talked it also included laughing, giggling, teasing, anecdote telling, interrupting, talking over one another, sputtering and snorting laughter, family photo showing, gossiping, complimenting, complaining, a little moaning and bitching, interrogating, guffawing, chuckling, and lots of comments and high praise (at every opportunity and lull in the conversation) for Jenn's new boots (be sure and ask her about them!).

So when you see the photos and are all envious about the wonderful sightseeing tour she had, don't be fooled. It was a gabfest. It could have taken place anywhere. We were so tuned in to one another it is a wonder that any of the photos are in focus! We had a blast (yeah I know, I'm dating myself with that phrase)! I just hope it was worth the jet lag! And AG has earned himself demi-god status in my book.

Okay, now I want trip reports from other blogger meetings. And you can't fool me. Good food, wine, tasteful settings, exotic locations, none of it means anything when it comes to visiting with your friends!

Strangers on the Net...

2008-02-11T20:06:00.001+01:00

My second entry into ...

(an inspiration of SMID) !!

(Sung to the tune of Strangers in the Night, apologies to English lyricists Charles Singleton and Eddie Snyder)

Strangers on the Net, exchanging emails,
They had never met, but knew such details
Of each others lives and common points of view.

Something in those blogs was so inviting,
And those lovely photos were so exciting,
They started a blog that now is run by two.

Strangers on the Net,
Two busy mothers they were Strangers on the Net,
Up to the moment that they said their first hellos, little did they know,
Amazing Guy would play a part,
A trip to Holland was in the cards.

And

Now they're truly friends, blogging together,
Photos without end, comments about weather.
It gets better yet for Strangers on the Net!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

We had entirely too much fun!! Have you ever met someone that you felt you had known for ages? That's how I felt when I first met Jenn-in Holland. And that's how I feel about SMID. I was going to meet Jenn for a shopping-and-gossiping afternoon. And she showed up with a friend in tow!! Whee-hee! We had a blast. And she brought along some sunshine, which we haven't seen here in a while. My face hurts from the smiling and giggling we did. And those 2 shutterbugs went crazy on the tour I gave them of my favorite photo ops (it seems we all share a sense of the odd and absurd!) Want to see what we saw? Check out their photoblog in the coming weeks (a pair of those shoes in today's photo are gonna be mine!!).

And of course check out the other links on this fabulous Music Monday!

How Much I Knew about the Red Boots' Road Trip...

2008-02-09T23:36:00.000+01:00

Clueless!!

Jenn-in-Holland is full of surprises. So is SMID!! For more surprising words, come play with us here!

Inertia

2008-01-26T20:32:00.000+01:00

Inertia is defined as "the tendency of matter to move uniformly at a constant velocity (in a straight line at a constant speed)." Isaac Newton's First Law of Motion talks about inertia more specifically. It states that "A body at rest tends to remain at rest; a body in motions tends to remain in motion at a constant velocity, unless acted upon by an outside force."

As I have been trained as a scientist and engineer, I tend to think about life in terms of the various scientific and engineering principles that I have learned. While some folks joke about "gravity" getting them down, I just blame it all on Newton's First Law.

Picture my husband coming home. The kids are fed and homework is done, but they are basically vegging out in front of the TV. The dishes have not been done. Of the 10 household chores on my list, only 3 have been completed and the rest have seen half-hearted attempts which have been interrupted. I am curled up in my reading corner with the light off and a cold towel on my forehead.

"Everything OK?" he asks.

"Yeah. Blame it on Isaac." I reply.

"First Law again?"

"It's what keeps the world spinning."

"Not really."

"I'm not going to argue Physics with you now. Too much inertia."

"I'll put the kids to bed."

This month it has seriously gotten me in its grip. I can't seem to get started on anything. And the fibromyalgia keeps flaring up. I know the most likely cause is the changing weather which plays havoc with my system. It seems the higher the wind velocity, the stronger my headache. And the more it rains, the stiffer my joints. But a part of me also knows that I am in this pattern and it is not going to go away by itself. I have to act, to exert effort, to effect change. And while the scientist part of my brain is analyzing all this, the inertia-laden rest of my body just continues on in its pattern of everyday routine and nothing changes.

So my first step is to fall back on what I know. I find I can blog about physics and science easier than I can about the on-going stresses in my world these days. So I am tempting myself out of my routine by focusing on a few of my favorite topics. I hope, dear readers, that you still find me interesting, and hopefully not too boring. And maybe you can learn a little something as well as have a laugh at my expense. As a bonus, I promise (inspired by the incomparable Leslie) a future blog about the "Physics of Sex".

Want a short lesson on Inertia? Check out this YouTube cartoon (4 1/2 minutes)!

The Geeky Gal is Back

2008-01-21T20:25:00.000+01:00

I am a geeky gal. (This should be no surprise readers, see my blog title! Read my profile!) So when one of my favorite bloggers came up with the brilliant plan to set aside a day for reading, I was making big plans. You would not believe the stack of books next to my bed. Just a random sample: Micheal Crichton's "Next", "Dublin" by Edward Rutherfurd , "Planet Earth" (companion book to the BBC/Discover series), "Science and Philosophy" by Alfred North Whitehead (1948), and the one I finally settled on "Ideas and Opinions" a collection of writings by Albert Einstein. I chose the latter because it is a collection of his letters and writings on various subjects and I thought I could read sections at a time and not get too caught up. I forgot about my own tendency to obsess about reading anything I pick up cover-to-cover.

However, the best laid plans...etc. So while I have started this book, and even managed to read for a full hour on the appointed day, I am far from finishing. So this is no real book report. And it is heavy going. Not because of the geek stuff, though the latter chapters about his contributions to science do promise to be too much for the layperson. No, what I am most moved by is the realization that such a great mind and gentle soul were almost trapped and snuffed out by the fanaticism and hatred that was Germany in the 1930's and 40's. It is amazing that he got out. It is horrifying to think of the other great minds and talents that did not. It is moving to read his humility when he was already in his lifetime a revered and lauded personality. It is admirable that he still maintained his strong pacifism when so many of his relations, friends and acquaintances perished at the hands of the Nazis.

I am so humbled by his writings. And while I expected this to be the case when it came to his mind, I am surprised that this is also the case with his heart. He writes with tender emotion and such wisdom that I finish a passage in tears and find I have been holding my breath for far too long. So I share with you here, in his honor, some of my favorite quotes from Albert Einstein himself:

"The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious. It is the source of all true art and science. He to whom this emotion is a stranger, who can no longer pause to wonder and stand rapt in awe, is as good as dead: his eyes are closed."

"As long as there are sovereign nations possessing great power, war is inevitable."

"The Lord God is subtle, but malicious he is not."

"Any man who can drive safely while kissing a pretty girl is simply not giving the kiss the attention it deserves."

"Something deeply hidden had to be behind things."

"Any intelligent fool can make things bigger, more complex, and more violent. It takes a touch of genius -- and a lot of courage -- to move in the opposite direction."

"I am not only a pacifist but a militant pacifist. I am willing to fight for peace. Nothing will end war unless the people themselves refuse to go to war."

"Science without religion is lame. Religion without science is blind."

"You cannot simultaneously prevent and prepare for war."

"Anyone who has never made a mistake has never tried anything new."

"A man's ethical behavior should be based effectually on sympathy, education, and social ties; no religious basis is necessary. Man would indeed be in a poor way if he had to be restrained by fear of punishment and hope of reward after death."

"Science is a wonderful thing if one does not have to earn one's living at it."

"The secret to creativity is knowing how to hide your sources."

"Humiliation and mental oppression by ignorant and selfish teachers wreak havoc in the youthful mind that can never be undone and often exert a baleful influence on later life."

"The only thing that interferes with my learning is my education."

"Peace cannot be kept by force. It can only be achieved by understanding."

"We can't solve problems by using the same kind of thinking we used when we created them."

"I know not with what weapons World War III will be fought, but World War IV will be fought with sticks and stones."

"The release of atom power has changed everything except our way of thinking...the solution to this problem lies in the heart of mankind. If only I had known, I should have become a watchmaker."

"Not everything that counts can be counted, and not everything that can be counted counts." (Sign hanging in Einstein's office at Princeton)

And the best one of all, in my humble opinion:

"Two things are infinite: the universe and human stupidity; and I'm not sure about the the universe."

You gotta admit, the guy gives you a lot to think about!!

Missing...

2008-01-15T22:37:00.000+01:00

...in Action
Sorry. It has been hectic. It has been stressful. And to top it off I have only just gotten over a 10-day fibromyalgia headache. Not only did I not feel like moaning about it, but looking at the computer screen only made it worse, so I haven't even been lurking. Reading e-mails was about all I could possibly manage. Replying was often too much. I will soon do so to those of you who sent personal queries about my absence. I am better now. Not 100%, but better.

...all the Fun.
Reading was not much better. And my brain was so fried that I found I could hardly remember what I had just read. The only good side is that I get to catch up on all the lovely book reports about the Day to Read that was the brainstorm of the lovely SMID. I owe her one and feel very jealous that I could not take part. But I am sure there will be a next time.

...the Point.
Blogging is something that had become part of my daily routine. And I had some specific things that are close to my heart that I wanted to write about. But somehow I have gotten sidetracked by, well...Life, that thing that happens while we are busy making other plans. I am hoping that things will settle down a bit soon and I can again address some of my favorite topics like science, astronomy, and various ways to make sense of all the chaos around us!

...Link.
Well actually, many links. Singular Saturday. Soap Opera Sunday. Music Monday. Day to Read. And so many fun memes, awards, interviews, challenges, questions,... (sigh). I need to get back into this, but am afraid I will have to do it slowly. And I have a lot of reading to catch up on!

...all of You.
Thanks for the lovely e-mails. It is nice to be missed but I do feel somewhat guilty for not replying sooner. I feel a bit disconnected and kinda lost, but I am confident that as soon as I start reading and commenting I will also be hearing back from you all.

In Search of my Inner Elf...

2007-12-23T18:45:00.000+01:00

I am really not ready for Christmas this year. Oh the presents have been bought and mostly wrapped. The tree is decorated and we have a few lights up in the kitchen and decorations placed around. I have put Christmas cards through the mailbox, and survived the various holiday events at the kids' schools. Christmas music has been on the stereo since Thanksgiving. But still I am feeling like the Grinch.

I look at my list and realise that yet again the Christmas newsletter to friends and family has not been written to go into the cards. And though I got away with the joke of "Merry Christmas, er...oops!" in the Easter greetings once, really it is not even funny anymore. And when so much of the news is bad you don't even feel like talking about it for fear that it will be such a depressing missive that no one wants to read this time of year. So how do I explain all this in the short note included in the Christmas greetings? (sigh) Go to the next item on the list.

Christmas baking has never been my forte. Okay, baking and cooking are not skills I brag about. I am great at chemistry, which generally prevents any major disasters in the kitchen. But it is not something I do for fun. However, my children love it and I have made the preparations, but still the spirit has not moved me. Besides, I insist that the house be thoroughly cleaned prior to taking on a task which itself will require a major clean-up. So that's what I have been working on all day. Now I am to tired to take on such a major task so maybe it will be something for tomorrow. Back to the list.

Christmas crafts. This was started at the beginning of December, and some cards and decorations were made. But it hardly puts a dent in supplied I have collected and really the kids got on with it by themselves without me having to do more than referee and nag about clearing up. However, since then they have hardly touched the stuff and now I am making the "Tired Mommy" decision and relegating all the supplied back to the storage from whence they came. Finally, something I can check off the list! But of course not without some twinge from a guilty conscience.

Delivering presents round to friends. Now this is something I can get into a bit. Unfortunately as I must drive, I don't get to partake of the wine/eggnog/gluhwein etc. But I can share in the fellowship and I find this does start to thaw the winter chill that seems to have taken over my mood. For some reason this year everyone seems to be tired and run-down. We all joke and moan and commiserate. And I get fussed at for breaking the promises we made not to do any gifts. But I had to do one basket for a friend and it was just easy to go ahead and do 5. And yes, I got a bit carried away and seemed to find the perfect little something that made each gift personalized. But it was the only fun I had in terms of buying for Christmas so all the recipients laugh and grudgingly accept that this was "therapy" of the retail nature and all is forgiven.

There it is. The spirit of giving. That's what has begun to revive the memories of merriment. The thaw in my heart has begun and I am starting to relax. Now may be the time to get out the DVD of "A Christmas Carol" and gather the family round. I might even get a few cards written while settled on the couch in front of the TV.

It won't be a big family holiday, but a small one with hubby and the kids. And in the evening of the 25th we will get together with friends and their kids and the accompanying chaos. On the 26th we will travel to Germany for a visit with in-laws, returning in time to celebrate the New Year with other friends and of course fireworks. The weather has thus far co-operated with some lovely cold days and spectacular frosting of trees and plants, although very little snow has covered the ground and the roads have not been too bad for driving.

I shouldn't complain but I do. It has been a hard year. And the coming one promises to start with further difficulties. Still I have good friends and good blog-friends and that is really what Christmas is all about.

Merry Christmas to you all. I hope you too can find your "Inner Elf" and enjoy the holiday as it is really meant to be celebrated, in the love and warmth of good company, friendship and affection. And here's hoping that the New Year brings joys to temper the sorrows, warmth to ease the coldness that seeps in from the dark corners of the world and hope that somehow in some small way we can all help to make things better.

Peace

Trouble Comes in Threes...(Update)

2007-12-14T06:15:00.000+01:00

I know, I seem to have disappeared from the blogsphere. I have hardly been near my computer lately except to e-mail the school about DD1's absence. You see, the third "crisis" finally showed up. What started out as a cold and developed over a week or so into the "crud" has finally manifested as full-blown pneumonia. And as this is my first experience with an almost-teen being ill, I am afraid I have not handled it very well. She vacillates from not wanting to be talked to or touched to crawling into my bed or lap and needing to be held and rocked just as she did when she was 3 years old and sick. And of course we have the battles about trying to get her to eat/drink/take medicine/measure fever/dress warmly/take a bath/cough hard/ blow her nose/go to the doctor/etc. (sigh)!

So finally when she felt bad enough to let me take her to the doctor it was of course in the evening and we had to get to the night-clinic. I felt so guilty when describing her symptoms to the doctor because she obviously thought I had waited too long to come. How do you tell someone who has obviously never had kids, much less a prickly pre-teen, that in between bouts of fever and really feeling sick, she was complaining about being bored, working her way through all the computer games and DVDs, asking if she could ride her bike outside, talking on the phone to friends about being at school the next day, and so on? And even when her fever was so high that she was shivering under the covers and I had to hold her for almost an hour, she was absolutely insistent that she did not need a doctor. Unfortunately DH was traveling, so there was no way I could man-handle her into the car by myself if she did not want to come voluntarily. So I sat sheepishly in front of the doctor who informed me that a virus or flu usually starts out with a fever that goes away after 3 days or so, but as she had already had a cold for more than a week before she got the fever, this was obviously an infection and that it was very important that she take all her medicine, drink fluids, rest, stay warm, and try to cough to clear her lungs. As if I had not been trying to do these things for the past week. Nonetheless, my own feelings of inadequacy have now been supported by a medical authority. I am officially now a "Bad Mommy". Maybe I need to design a button for my blog...

I have to laugh or I would just collapse in tears. The other news is also not so good.

My FIL has now had the second surgery in this round of his bladder cancer and the news is not good. They are recommending that he have his bladder removed. This is a hard operation on anyone at any age, but for man of 81 it comes with ominous overtones. It is especially disheartening for him as shortly after he was diagnosed over 2 years ago, his own Brother-in-Law, who is younger than him, got the same diagnosis. But his BIL's course of treatment involved the immediate removal of his bladder. He went downhill from that point on and died 6 months ago. So for my FIL, in his mind removing his bladder is basically a death sentence. But his doctors are telling him that not doing so is just as bad. So my DH is under a lot of stress trying to cope with our homefront issues and support his parents as well.

And the progress in diagnosing DD1 is going so slow, as is the case wherever there is socialized medicine. We have now completed the psychological evaluation, which only confirmed what I already knew about her. First of all, the mental evaluation shows she is "gifted" and very intelligent, almost off the scales for the tests they were using for her. However, emotionally she is behind girls her age. But that is not an unusual combination. All the other evaluations show she is not ADD or ADHD, though she has some concentration problems. And while she has often expressed she "wants to be a boy", she has no body issues which would indicated some sort of trans-gender issues. If there are other sexual issues that contribute to her stress level, it is still to soon to tell. Because of the pattern of behaviour, hormones definitely have some contribution. But clearly there is a chemical imbalance and as the stress builds up she gets more hostile and irritated until we have a meltdown complete with the kind of temper tantrum she used to have as a 2-year old. The trouble is it comes with the ugly back-talk and threats of a teenager as well as the physical strength and violent temper. At times I think instead of a psychiatrist we need an exorcist.

But we have now the preliminary diagnosis of Obsessive-Compulsive-Disorder showing a number of symptoms including the self-harming behaviour of pulling out her hair. She now has pulled out almost one-third and my biggest fear is that this will progress to an even more severe pattern. So we now have our first appointment with a child psychiatrist on 17.January. I am hoping that the holidays don't bring any more stress. I am not sure if I can handle it.

But at least I know what number 3 was and am not so worried about any more bad surprises. I know it is a silly superstition, but for me it does seem to have a pattern and somehow I am comforted by this. And I call myself a scientist...

Who is Coming to Your House? (Part VII)

2007-12-04T15:41:00.001+01:00

Hij komt, hij komt, de lieve goede Sint...

This is the last in my series about the tradition surrounding SinterKlaas here in the Netherlands. For more information, please look for my posts under the same title over the past month: Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V and Part VI.

Tomorrow is the big day here, and preparations are well underway in most places. At school they have already had visits by the Piets, many of whom left a big mess behind. One of the things that some classes get to do, if their school has access to an oven, is to make their own "kruidenoten". Kruidnoten are a sweeter, harder version of the pepernoten and I actually find them tastier. Kruidnoten are crispier like Spekulaas or ginger snaps, whereas pepernoten are more like gingerbread. Pepernoten have a more bread-like texture and are more complicated to make. This is an easy, fun recipe for Kruidnoten and I have used it when I helped out many classes through the years. So if you are curious, or just want a fun activity for the kids, I have translated it to ingredients more familiar to the US:

Kruidnoten
50 grams (1 3/4 oz) butter
100 grams (1/2 cup) brown sugar
100 grams (1/2 cup) white sugar
1 Tablespoon milk
250 grams (1 cup) self-rising flour
Spices:
1 teaspoon ground nutmeg
1 teaspoon ground cloves
1 teaspoon ground cinamon
1 teaspoon ground aniseed
1 teaspoon ground ginger
Mix all these spices together until well blended before adding to the rest of the mix.
NOTE: If you have access to commercially mixed "Speculaas kruiden" (spices) then you could use 2 3/4 teaspoons of that instead of the individual spices listed. Allspice can be substituded for ground cloves/aniseed/ginger.

1. Cream the butter and sugar together, then add the spice mix (or spices).
2. Add the flour and milk, mix together until well blended. Sometimes, this means you need to get in there with your hands!!
3. Make very very small marble sized balls of dough and place them on a flat baking sheet with enough room to allow them to spread out and rise a little.
4. Bake for 10-15 minutes at 160 C (320 F) until golden.
5. Let cool until they harden. Eat and enjoy!!

Now I admit to having a weakness for kruidnoten. And especially as they are on sale very cheap after 5.December, I have a tendency to go overboard. Thus I often find myself around Christmas with more than I can eat and the days of throwing at children have already passed. Thus it was great fortune for me to find this recipe that goes well for SinterKlaas, but is also perfect for Christmas get-togethers.

Sint-Tiramisu
I usually double this recipe as it goes very quickly! But you may want to try it first and some portions may need adjusting depending on the ingredients.
250 g (8-10 ounces) kruidnootjes (Instead you can use ginger snaps, German spekulatius, Swedish "pepper-cookies" or similarly spiced hard cookies spiced with cinammon, ginger, nutmeg or allspice.)
100ml (1/2 cup) strong espresso coffee -cooled
3 egg yolks
100g (1/2 cup) sugar
1 packet vanilla sugar (1 tsp vanilla extract)
250 g ( 8oz) ) mascarpone cheese (This may be difficult to find in some areas and may also be rather expensive so one of the following substitutions can be made: 1. 8 oz of softened cream cheese combined with 1/4 cup whipping cream, whipped until smooth or 2. ricotta or cottage cheese combined with 3 tablespoons sour cream, and 2 tablespoons sweet cream, whipped until smooth.)

Beat together yolks, vanilla and sugar in a large bowl with an electric mixer at medium speed until thick and pale, about 2 minutes. Beat in mascarpone until just combined. Lightly butter a large flat-bottomed glass serving or baking dish and line the bottom with about half of the kruidnoten. Pour half of the espresso coffee and let it soak into the cookies. Add about half of the mixture, spread evenly over the cookies. Distribute the remaining kruidnoten over the mix and pour the remaining coffee over the cookies. Add the rest of the mix, spreading evenly until all the cookies are covered. Cover the dish with cling-film and let it sit in the refrigerator for 3-4 hours. Before serving, I like to sprinkle cocoa powder over the top.

Now while I love-love-love the original Italian tiramisu, I find this as an acceptable substitute during the holiday season!!

Who is Coming to Your House? (Part VI)

2007-12-03T11:03:00.000+01:00

The songs that are sung to welcome SinterKlaas and Zwarte Piet into our celebrations are a big part of the Dutch tradition. On Jenn's blog you can see a video of one of the songs. There are sometimes different versions of the old standards with some rap versions making the rounds the last couple of years. Whenever you see Sint or if he is coming, or maybe you'll see one of his Piet-bands making the rounds, it doesn't matter, you will always hear singing! And the tunes are kind of catchy so they are not hard to learn! But of course if you don't speak Dutch, then these don't mean a lot. Therefore I give you some of the translations I have found of some of the most popular songs. But please note, these are not literal translations, but rhyming songs that have a similar meaning to the Dutch songs. This makes it easy for the ex-pats to take part in the celebration with their own English versions (Sint of course understands English, unlike many of the Piets).

Click on the titles of the songs to hear a recording of the music only and try to sing along yourself! And with this I make my first entry into:

Wanna hear more tunes? Check out Soccer Mom in Denial. In fact, have a good look around 'cuz Allison's always coming up with cool stuff like this!

Enjoy!! Only 3 more days until SinterKlaas!

Source: "Saint Nicholas in Holland", Het Parool, Theo Ramaker

Sinterklaas Kapoentje

Sinterklaas Kapoentje
Gooi wat in mijn schoentje,
gooi wat in mijn laarsje
dank u, Sinterklaasje.

Nicholas I beg of You

Nicholas I beg of you
Drop into my little shoe
Something sweet or sweeter,
Thank you, Saint and Peter.

Sinterklaasje kom maar binnen

Sinterklaasje kom maar binnen met je knecht.
want we zitten allemaal even recht.
Misschien heeft u wel even tijd,
voordat u weer naar Spanje rijdt.
Sinterklaasje kom maar even bij ons aan
en laat uw paardje maar buiten staan.

En we zingen en we springen en we zijn zo blij,
want er zijn geen stoute kinderen bij.
En we zingen en we springen en we zijn zo blij,
want er zijn geen stoute kinderen bij.

Good Saint Nich'las

Good Saint Nich'las is in Holland once again
With his horse and Peter from sunny Spain.
And even if he can't stay long,
We hope he'll stop to hear our song
Dear Saint Nicholas the door is open wide,
For you and Pete to step inside.

And we're singing, voices ringing, and our hearts rejoice.
'Cause the Saint loves all good girls and boys.
And we're singing, voices ringing, and our hearts rejoice.
'Cause the Saint loves all good girls and boys.

O, kom er eens kijken...

Meisjes:
O, kom er eens kijken,
wat ik in mijn schoentje vind.
Alles gekregen van die beste Sint.
Een pop met vlechtjes in het haar,
een snoezig jurkje kant en klaar,
drie kaatseballen in een net en een letter van banket.
O, kom er eens kijken,
wat ik in mijn schoentje vind.
Alles gekregen van die beste Sint.

Jongens:
O, kom er eens kijken,
wat ik in mijn schoentje vind.
Alles gekregen van die beste Sint.
Een bromtol met een zweep erbij,
een doos met blokken ook voor mij,
en schaatsen en een nieuwe pet
en een letter van banket.
O, kom er eens kijken,
wat ik in mijn schoentje vind.
Alles gekregen van die beste Sint.

O, come have a look at...

Girls:
O, come have a look,
at what I'm finding in my boot
Dropped through the chimney,
Yet no speck of soot!
A doll with pigtails in her hair,
Her dress as white as Saint's own mare,
A sugar bunny sweet and quaint.
We thank you, dear old Saint.

Boys:
O, come have a look,
at what I'm finding in my boot
Dropped through the chimney,
Yet no speck of soot!
A jumping jack with woolly head,
My name in letters of gingerbread,
A book with pictures and some paint.
We thank you, dear old Saint

Zie de maan schijnt...

Zie de maan schijnt door de bomen,
makkers staakt uw wild geraas.
't Heerlijk avondje is gekomen,
't avondje van Sinterklaas.

Vol verwachting klopt ons hart,
wie de koek krijgt, wie de gard
Vol verwachting klopt ons hart,
wie de koek krijgt, wie de gard

Bright December moon...

Bright December moon is beaming,
Boys and girls now stop your play!
For tonight's the wondrous evening,
Eve of good Saint Nicholas Day.
O'er the roofs his horse unshod
Brings us gifts or else the rod.
O'er the roofs his horse unshod,
Brings us gifts or else the rod.

Zie ginds komt de stoomboot

Zie ginds komt de stoomboot
uit Spanje weer aan.
Hij brengt ons Sint-Nicolaas
ik zie hem al staan.
Hoe huppelt zijn paardje
op het dek op en neer,
hoe waaien de wimpels
al heen en al weer.

Zijn knecht staat te lachen en roept ons reeds toe:
"Wie zoet is krijgt lekkers,
wie stout is de roe!"
Och lieve Sint Niklaas, kom ook eens bij mij,
en rijd toch ons huisje niet stil voorbij.

Look here comes the steamer

Look, there is the steamer from far a-way lands.
It brings us St. Nich'las, he's waving his hands.
His horse is aprancing on deck, up and down,
The banners are waving in village and town.

Black Peter is laughing and tells ev'ry one,
'The good kids get candy, the bad ones get none!'
Oh, please dear St. Nich'las, if Pete and you would
just visit our house for we all have been good.

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I hope you are enjoying this series and learning a bit about Dutch culture. Tomorrow is the last one and I will be sharing my favorite recipe for using leftover "pepernoten" (but don't worry, it also works with ginger snaps, and "Spekulasius". Or if all else fails, I include a simple recipe to make your own Pepernoten!

Who is Coming to Your House? (Part V)

2007-12-02T16:39:00.000+01:00

This post probably doesn't really qualify as being a true "Soap Opera", but as I truly hate to miss the fun at "Soap Opera Sunday", I beg the indulgence of our fearless and brilliant leader 'Twas Brillig and her partner in ~~crime~~ fun Walking Kateastrophe.

For real soapy stories, be sure and read the posts of the other players in our on-going Sunday series by visiting this week's hostess Kimberly of Temporary? Insanity and seeing who else has joined the fun!

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This is one of the last in a series of posts I have been writing about the December traditions found in the Netherlands as they compare to Christmas in the US as well as UK and Germany. Look here for Part I, Part II, Part III, and Part IV.

With my multi-cultural family I have an "unusual" perspective which has come with its own challenges! My daughters started out in a Dutch daycare and later began in a Dutch public school. But of course we visit DH's family in Germany regularly and occasionally also make the trek back to the US, even managing a couple of Christmas visits. And of course our social circle includes not only Dutch, but many UK, Italian and other ex-pats from different countries.

So how do you explain to curious and intelligent children the differences in all the traditions and still keep the magic and wonderment of Christmas and the local traditions alive? How do you as a family teach some of your native culture to children when their friends are raised with a totally different tradition? The choices are sometimes hard and even heart-breaking. As a parent you don't want your children to be left out of the fun and you don't want to spoil things for them or their friends by debunking the whole drama. And surely SinterKlaas/Santa would not leave someone out just because they are from a different country/culture? But how do you explain that Sint comes on 5.December in the Netherlands, St. Nikolaus on 6.December in Germany, and Father Christmas and Santa Claus on 25.December in the UK and US? And what about their French and Italian friends, who comes to see them? Or is there a different one in every country? So why can't we celebrate 3 times with 3 times as many presents? Or if it's the same person, then why does he talk and dress so differently? And where is Zwarte Piet in the US?

In the Netherlands and in Germany, where exposure to US and UK culture has brought the man in the bright red suit with white fur trim to these countries, they refer to the visitor on 25.December as the "Christmas man" (Kerstman in Dutch, Weinachtsmann in German). He is not generally referred to as St. Nicholas or Santa Claus as these names are so obviously similar to Sankt Nikolaus and SinterKlaas. In the Netherlands they have gone so far as to pretend that Sint and Santa are competing against one another in some television commercials. In some families the story is that they are brothers, with Santa working in different countries and at times coming to visit Sint. This also explains why they look so much alike!

But neither of these explanations would completely satisfy my tri-lingual offspring who are tuned into the differences in the cultures. So in order to keep the myth and magic alive as long as possible in all the cultures they were exposed to, I thought up the following story, adding details as more questions came up through the years. It proved to be very effective as DD1 embellished some of the explanations as she tried to show off her knowledge of the whole affair to her less-informed younger sister! Any ex-pat families facing a similar dilemma are more than welcome to adopt this story into their family traditions.

Here is the story I have told my daughters through the years:

"You see SinterKlaas started coming over to the Netherlands from Spain a long, long time ago when he heard how good the Dutch children were from the sailors who visited his land. He brought along oranges and his faithful servant Zwarte Piet (Black Peter) and his wonderful white horse Amerigo. SinterKlaas saw that the Dutch children were so much fun, that he stayed to celebrate his birthday with them on 6.December. But instead of wanting presents, because he was such a generous and kind man, Sint wanted to give presents to the children. And thus the tradition was started of bringing presents to the Dutch children, riding around on his horse with Piet, and letting Piet climb down the chimney to put the presents beside the hearth. The soot from the chimneys made Piet even darker than he was, which is why he is now so black.

However, Sint learned quickly that not all the children in the Netherlands are nice, and some of them are quite naughty and don't deserve presents. For these children, Sint leaves a reminder that if they don't behave they will not get any presents. But how does he know which children are naughty and which ones are nice? Well, he comes with Piet to the Netherlands a couple of weeks early and starts to update his list. And Piet goes around peeking into windows and listening down chimneys to see if the children are behaving or if they are being rude to their parents or fighting with their brothers and sisters.

And the children through the years started leaving notes for Sint outside the door where they left their wooden shoes at night. They would ask for something special and thank Sint for their presents from the previous year. And sometimes they would leave him drawings and pictures because they know Sint really like such things and took them back to Spain with him to decorate his home there. And as thank you for the drawings Sint started leaving oranges and sweets for the children in their shoes.

However that was long ago, and since then there are a lot more children in the Netherlands, Sint started having to come the night before on 5.December so that by 6th December all the children in the Netherlands would have presents. And because he is magical, Sint made his horse and Zwarte Piet magical too, so that they are able to get into the smallest chimneys and fly up to the tallest roofs. But of course that is a lot of work, so the children started leaving carrots and hay for Amerigo, and sometimes even cookies or a cup of chocolate for Sint and Piet. And after a while it got to be too much for just one Piet, so Sint started to get more and more Piets to help out so that now each Piet has one special job and sometimes more than one Piet are tasked to do the same thing, like go around the markets and schools and see how the children are behaving. At some schools, the children even leave breakfast for the Piets who look into the teacher's records to see what they are saying about how the kids behave at school.

Now the children in some of the other countries also heard about Sint, and asked him to come to their country. So Sint and Piet also started visiting in Belgium. But the Piets did not know how to speak German and got lost on their first visit to Germany and had to ask a poor old farmer for help. This man, Ruprecht, was dressed in rags and a dark cloak and was a bit scary looking, but he was a good and honest man, and he helped Sint out in Germany. So ever since, Sint leaves the Piets to go back to Spain when he is through in the Netherlands, and on 6th December he comes to Germany and goes around with Knecht Ruprecht as his helper there. Knecht Ruprecht looks out in December for Sint to see which children have been naughty and nice in Germany. So the children in Germany should be aware when they see someone on the street in December who looks kind of raggedy and scary, as it might be Knecht Ruprecht who is taking notes! In Germany, they are a little more formal and maybe they don't know him so well, so they call him Sankt Nickolaus instead of his nickname Klaas.

After he finishes in Germany, Sint goes to some other countries in Europe bringing toys there. In each country he has a different helper because he needs someone who knows his way around and who speaks the language to help him out. And other countries also have different names for him and of course Sint speaks the language of each country he visits because he is a very clever man.

After Amerigo has jumped up to all the steep roofs in the Netherlands, he is pretty tired, so Sint lets him return to Spain with the Piets. But Sint uses a sleigh in Germany, which is especially useful in the places where there is lots of snow this time of year. In some other countries he gets around other ways, using a Vespa motorbike in the narrow streets of Rome and other cities in Italy and a donkey in the steep, winding village roads out in the countryside. And sometimes Sint has to change clothes because of the weather and because he wants to be recognized by the people there.

Of course the children in the UK and US also heard about Sint and wanted to celebrate as well. But by then Sint was so busy that even with all his magic he could not be everywhere at once for his birthday. So instead he decided to treat the children when they celebrate the birthday of Jesus on 25.December. So after he finishes his rounds in Europe, you start seeing him in the US and UK where he is making his lists of the naughty and nice children there. Because these are very big countries, Sint enlisted the help of some magical elves who have a workshop at the North Pole. There they make the toys that Sint then brings to the children. Only in the US they call him Santa which is "Sint" in English. And in the UK, they call him "Father Christmas", not because he was Jesus' father, but because he helped to make the Christmas holiday so special as it is today.

Because there are so many children in the US and UK, Santa or Father Christmas needs a magical sleigh to help him get around. And this is pulled by the flying reindeer that we have heard about. And even though there is a time difference between various parts of the US, Santa has to work very hard in order to get all the toys delivered by the morning of 25.December. So he wears more of a working uniform instead of the fancy clothes he usually wears in the Netherlands and Germany. And in some places like Florida and Arizona where it is so warm, he might even wear shorts and sandals!

So even though sometimes in the Netherlands they don't recognize Santa is Sint because he is dressed so different and they might hear him speaking English, we know he is the same person. And he of course knows you and that is why wherever you are, he will bring you presents. So if we are in Germany on 6th December, then Sankt Nikolaus will visit. And if we go to America for Christmas, then Santa will leave you a present there. Now it might night be very big, because he has already left you something on 5.December at your home in the Netherlands. But even if you have already gotten a present, you will still get something so that you know that Sint looks out for you wherever you are."

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Only 3 more days until Sint comes!!

Look for two more entries to come under this same title, including my first "Music Monday"!

To A Stressed Mom, she's Worth Her Weight in Gold:

2007-12-01T17:18:00.000+01:00

Babysitter!

Don 'cha wanna come play with us? Just say "Hi!" to Jenn!!

Who is Coming to Your House? (Part IV)

2007-11-30T18:46:00.000+01:00

While SinterKlass celebrations at Dutch schools, as well as at the sporting and activity clubs the kids may be part of, are rowdy, rambunctious, active affairs, on 5 December, "Pakjesavond", the celebration at home in most Dutch families is more of a family gathering, similar to what we celebrate with Thanksgiving and Christmas in the US. Often times there is a fancy meal, everyone is dressed up, and it is one of the few times that a whole family, including aunts, uncles, grandparents, etc., get together. Businesses usually let out a couple of hours early, shops are closed, and schools get out at lunch time (usually after a morning-long celebration with Sint and Piet). And while Sint may bring presents for the younger kids, the adults and older children are not by any means left out.

A big part of the SinterKlaas tradition involves poems. These accompany the presents and are usually slightly teasing in nature. The presentation of the gift is also important. After Sint or Piet knocks on the door to leave the sack of presents, it is taken inside and opened, usually by the host or hostess. Then presents are handed round and everyone admires the wrapped gift and often makes an attempt to guess what is in it. Then in a specified order, either older to youngest or vice versa, everyone reads the poem that he has received aloud before opening the present. For the younger children these are simple and are usually admonishments to do better at school or not fight with their siblings or pick up their rooms better. It is amazing how SinterKlaas just seems to know about their naughty behaviour! But of course he also knows about their heart's desire and sometimes includes special presents that may not have even been on their wishlists! The adults and older children also get gifts. Sometimes these are exchanged with one another, sometimes they also come from Sint. But in any case there will be a poem, and it is likely to have some hidden or even obvious meaning, often related to the present itself.

As much work goes into the writing of these poems and the jokes and comments that accompany the presents than goes into the presents themselves. In fact, often the presents are not really very big or expensive. But the appreciation of it goes into the effort that was put into its presentation. This is the true nature of the holiday. And at school the children are trained early in this understanding. From 3rd grade on in most dutch schools, the children draw names of someone in their class and are charged with getting a "surprise" present, to cost not more than around $5.00. But they are asked to keep the identity of the person they are making the present for a secret. And more important, they are asked to wrap the present up in a special way. Sometimes it is wrapped to represent the recipient's favorite hobby, for instance a microphone for someone who likes to sing, sometimes it looks like a toy (this year we saw a hockey stick and several Lego bricks), or maybe it looks like something to do with the holiday (a candy or a shoe).

DD2 made her Surprise this year into a replica of Sint's steamboot, complete with a funnel with cotton wool steam coming out and little flags. I should have taken a picture, but forgot. The teacher promised to do it next week before they open the presents, and I'll try and include it then. DD1 is still in the process of wrapping her Surprise present. She is giving a book on secret codes, and is putting it in a "safe" complete with a combination lock. But that is not all. Older children (5th grade and above) are required to make up poems to go with their presents. DD1's includes a riddle with the answer giving the combination to the safe. Other poems may be in the form of limericks. And in Dutch language classes, the poems themselves are required to be in Dutch! This sounds like a lot of work. And it is!! Therefore many large department stores have in-house poetry writers to help their customers come up with suitable rhymes to go with the presents they have purchased in-store. And there are books and guides and even computer programs to help with generating the poems. And of course websites!! Don't believe me? See for yourself: here, or here, or here, or here, or...

The point I want to make is that this holiday is not just fun, but it something very special and treasured by the Dutch and others in neighboring countries that share in this celebration. The SinterKlass holiday represents the best qualities of caring for one another and spending not just money but time and thought in selecting a gift. The real difference in this holiday from many other celebrations, at least one that many families try and uphold, is that it is not about the materialism that seems to be taking over our societies these days. But it is about the thought and energy we put into it ourselves. I have been complimented in comments on my blog about my efforts in making this holiday special for my kids. Really it is very little as compared to what other Dutch moms do. My rhymes are clumsy and our celebrations have not been very fancy as we continue to make Christmas our big holiday. Nonetheless, I felt and still feel it is important that my kids understand the culture they are growing up in, and so I have tried to capture some of the spirit of this holiday.

When I hear DD1 wistfully longing for another visit from Sint, joined by DD2 who then goes on to say "Remember when..." I know that I have had some success in this endeavor!

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Please join me for my next blog on our "Soap Opera Sunday" when I tell the story I have told my children for years about how Sint and Santa are the same person!! How can this be you ask? Stay tuned...

5 more Days to SinterKlaas!!

Who is Coming to Your House? (Part III)

2007-11-27T07:51:00.000+01:00

This post is part of a series I am writing to help my readers understand the difference between what is normally celebrated in the US during December vs the traditions one finds in the Netherlands and surrounding countries. Here you can find Part I and here Part II. And of course, there will be more stories in this blog leading up to 5.December, under the same title.

Warning! This post reflects the culture found in the Netherlands and may therefore be a bit shocking to the "politically correct" culture found in the US! That's just how it is here folks!!

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While I have given you the background on SinterKlaas, whose persona is not unfamiliar to American culture, and yes, ostensibly he is the "star" of the show, the show itself and all the build-up to Sint's arrival is done by the Zwarte Pieten (Black Peters). In the Netherlands, Belgium and Luxembourg, Zwarte Piet is Sint's helper or companion. We don't have elves here! The history behind this is that he was a servant or squire who helped Bishop Nicholas on his travels. The early legend is that he was a young, black slave named Peter that Nicholas had rescued and freed. He chose to stay with Nicholas rather than go out on his own. Other versions have it that he was a young page who got a black face because he was the one to climb down the chimneys and so he got covered in soot!

In other cultures, the figure of Nicholas has different helpers. In many parts of Germany, this is a dark figure called "Knecht Ruprecht" which translates as Servant or Farmhand Ruprecht. In some instances the Saint and the Knecht play "good & bad" roles with Nickolas handing out treats while Ruprecht threatens to beat the children with switches if they don't behave! My DH grew up with the tradition that on 6.December, along with a small present from Sankt Nickolas, the children received a bundle of switches that are tied together with ribbon and hung with various chocolates and candies. Children were often admonished that if they did not behave, then all they would get is the bundle of switches! In the US you can hear this reflected in some of the tales about Santa Claus.

In other European countries, this helper has a similar role but different names: Krampus (in Austria, Hungary, Solvenia, Croatia and some surrounding reagions), Klaubauf (in southern Germany), Pelzebock, Pelznickel, Belzeniggl, Buzebergt, Rumpelklas, Bellzebub, Hans Muff, Hanstrapp or Drapp (in various regions of Germany, Austria, Switzerland, northern Italy, eastern France and countries bordering Germany), and Le Pere Fouettard (Northern France). In most instances these companions are portrayed as ugly or comical figures, some even having horns and resembling a demon or devil. They often carry a rod or staff, sometimes a scythe or sword, or a whip or bundle of switches. And they all carry the sack for Saint Nicholas. In some incarnations, the companion is dressed in rags or all in black, while in others he is dressed like Nicholas, but has a darker complexion and dark hair and is unkempt compared to Nicholas. In some regions, however, Nicholas is accompanied by a young angel, a blond sweet-looking child or young woman. In the Czech Republic this is Anděl (Angel).

Depending on the region, "Nicholas Day" is celebrated on the 5th or the 6th. In some areas, he arrives at the door and the children are summoned to perform a poem or song before they are given their presents. It may be that the companion reads a list of the things naught children have done or is angry and mean and telling the children they deserve no presents. But while this can be scary, it is also fun for many children and they look forward to the show every year, practicing what they will say to convince the visitors that they deserve a present (which they always get in the end!).

But the Belgium-Netherlands-Luxembourg (Benelux) region is unique in its tradition of Zwarte Piet and this character is cherished as the biggest part of the Nicholas celebration. Through the years, especially since WWII, the legend developed to include more than one companion. Thus we have "Zwarte Pieten" (plural). All of them are named "Piet", and wear a colorful costume reminiscent of a Renaissance European page including pantaloons, ruffled collar, feathered cap, long stockings, buckled shoes (although nowadays replaced by sport shoes) and black gloves. But each has a different function and role to play in the ever-expanding drama that is the feast of SinterKlaas. Of course you have the main helper Piet (HoofdPiet), but also one in charge of the presents (PakjesPiet), one in charge of the poems (GedichtePiet), Piets in charge of Sint's horse Amerigo (PaardePieten), and of course dancing Piets, singing Piets, the Piets in charge of handing out/throwing the candy and cookies (StrooigoedPieten), etc. One of my favorite characters is MuziekPiet who is the lead singer and in charge of making up new songs for Sint. Funny, but instead of the usual Piet costume, he has a hairstyle and outfit resembling Elvis in his Las Vegas years!

But all of the Zwarte Piets are black! No, not African-American! No these are black-faced characters and even those actors of darker complexion wear the black make-up! While there has been some controversy over the usage of blackface, and every year you can find discussion forums on the political correctness of this character, all efforts to change this have not been accepted. In 2006, one of the main TV stations in the Netherlands tried to introduce rainbow-colored Piets in an effort to get away from this stereotype. Viewers stayed away in droves and a parade hosted by the TV station with all different colored characters was booed by the public. The whole idea was dropped very quickly.

Whereas in the US you may have someone dressed as Santa Claus collecting on a street corner, or even a street band of Santa Claus musicians, in the Benelux this is a role for Zwarte Piet. As Sint can't be everywhere at once, oftentimes you will only see Piets who then will collect the drawings and lists and be sure and bring them to Sint. One year DD1 was not at all impressed with the SinterKlaas we had met on the market. She informed me very knowingly that he was not the "real Sint", but just a helper dressed up like Sint as she was aware that SinterKlaas could not be everywhere at once. But, she informed me, the Piets were real. Thus she was not at all concerned that her drawing would not make it to the real SinterKlaas. Many schools have a day when Piets comes to visit and collect the drawings and wishlists from the children, leaving behind treats and small presents. Funny enough, though, these Piets often get a bit rowdy playing with the children's things and leaving behind a big mess at school. My daughters were outraged at these RommelPieten (messy Piets)!. And of course before the children were allowed to eat their treats they had to clean up the mess! At many schools every year there is some sort of theme around SinterKlaas and company. One year, one of the Piets had fallen in love with one of the teachers. Everyday the school received a love note with a clue as to which teacher it was. There were internal polls taken amongst the children as to who they thought it was. One class even made a bar graph showing the results. The speculation grew every day. One of the younger classes was very upset as they were sure it was their teacher and were afraid that she would go back to Spain with Piet and they did not want her to leave. They wrote a special letter to Sint and were relieved to learn with a personal letter from him that is was not their beloved teacher.

Dutch television has a special program each year with news about SinterKlaas and reports about all the various activities and dramas around his visit to the Netherlands. My daughters still insist on watching this every evening, though they really have outgrown SinterKlaas now. My blogfriend in Belgium, Goofball, reports that they have a different story there with Sint arriving in their country at a different location.

Now you have to understand the characters of ZwartePieten. Many of them are young and rather naughty. This stems from the original legend where they were naughty children who were put in Sint's sack and taken back to Spain! And they are very acrobatic (for the most part) as they are the ones who climb down the chimney and carry the sack of toys and treats. So of course almost every school gym lesson in November at some point has an obstacle course for the children to follow in order to earn the PietenDiploma! In the street parades and at the markets you will see a number of Piets handing out candy and pepernoten. But in some places they actually throw the candy, hence the term "Strooigoed" (stuff you throw). Especially at the school visits where the children perform for SinterKlaas, the Piets can be quite rambunctious and at times Sint has to calm them down. But it is all in good fun and the kids are usually quite happy to let the Piets join in their dances and throw candy at them. And whenever they see one on the street, the call to him by name yelling "Piet! Piet!" and are guaranteed a smile and a wave as if they are personally recognized. I have heard funny tales of Dutch children on summer vacation in Spain who, upon seeing a black person on the beach or street, have called out "Piet! Piet!". And in areas familiar with Dutch vacationeers, the child was usually rewarded with the same big smile and wave, thus confirming their identity!

And while in the US you find Santa hats and outfits, for the most part in the Netherlands the children all want to dress up as Piet. Well of course! You get a really colorful costume, and you can choose whatever color you want. Oftentimes it is satin or some soft material, though the fancier ones include velvet. The ruffled collar is not always pleasant, but simpler costumes leave that out. And you get a great cap with a feather. Many schools have craft activities where the kids make their own feather cap. But best of all you get to put on black makeup! Some kids are content to just a few smudges on their cheeks, but others go all out with their entire face and neck covered in black. Topped off with a curly black wig and a cap, the sight of the white eyes and bright smiles (sometimes with missing teeth!) from such shiny black faces is comical and touching at the same time. And of course there are one or two who will dress up at Sint. But you get to have a lot more fun as Piet! No wonder the parents no longer threaten their children about getting put into the sack and sent off to Spain. Kids in the Netherlands love ZwartePiet and many would jump at the chance without hesitation! I know of several teenagers who relish their role every year as a "helper", spending money of their own to embellish their costumes.

So while he may be a bit outdated, and definitely on the naughty side with some of his antics, and he is certainly not politically correct and is definitely a stereotype, I can't help myself, I love ZwartePiet! I would definitely go off to Spain with him!!

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So there you have the tradition as celebrated in the Netherlands, but I'm not done yet! Look for future blogs with this title to see how I combined the traditions of the Netherlands, Germany and the US into one story for my girls. And I will be posting a recipe (not something I often do) that includes what to do with all those extra pepernoten!!

Who is Coming to Your House? (Part II)

2007-11-25T16:30:00.000+01:00

This post is part of a series I am writing to help my readers understand the difference between what is normally celebrated in the US during December vs the traditions one finds in the Netherlands and surrounding countries. But today is also ...
For more information and links about this great blogfun, visit 'Twas Brillig and company and have fun reading all their great stories. In keeping with the theme I am currently writing about, today I give you tales from my family's experience with SinterKlaas and his helpers.

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As I reported earlier, SinterKlaas is now in the Netherlands, and this legendary figure is also the source of the character we know in the US as "Santa Claus". Like the Saint Nicholas we know in the US, SinterKlaas is a benevolent old man who loves children and even though he wears the clothes of a bishop including the mitre and cape, his festival is celebrated all over the country by people of all religions, ages and backgrounds.

Although based on a real Archbishop of Myra, Turkey, who lived from 271 AD to December 6, 342 AD, part of the legend of today's SinterKlaas is that he is alive today and visits the Netherlands to celebrate his birthday! The other 11 months of the year he lives in Spain. So when he arrives in the Netherlands, you suddenly start seeing in the shops the "apples from Spain" which are actually oranges or mandarines. These are also popular treats given to children in their shoes which they place by the chimney or door along with a carrot or apple or hay for Sint's faithful steed Amerigo. Children also place their wishlists and drawings for SinterKlaas in their shoes. At times you will see Sint in the market in the center of town, accompanied by his faithful helpers (more about them in a later post). Children often line up to shake his hand and give him one of their drawings. And as SinterKlaas is a big fan of music and dancing, there is always a lot of that going on. I think there may be as many SinterKlaas songs as there are Christmas caroles! And every year there seems to be a new one added to the repertoire!

From the moment Sint and company arrive in the Netherlands, children have the opportunity to place their shoes every night by the door in the hopes of getting something (in some families he only comes on the weekends) Often this is a small treat, candy, sweet, piece of fruit, or toy. Sometimes it is something more useful such as school supplies, socks, a warm hat or gloves. But of course very special "SinterKlaas treats" are the pepernoten which are small, hard, round spice cookies (about the size of a large cherry). In flavor they are reminiscent of Gingersnaps or cinnamon cookies. Other treats are various marzipan sweets that come in all different shapes representing luck and various objects associated with this festival. And of course...chocolate. Remember the Dutch were the merchants who brought chocolate to the world, so of course this is an important part of the festival. Tradition has it that every child received a sweetbread that was shaped into the first letter of his or her name. But through the years this has slowly been replaced by chocolate letters in various manifestations. We have not only the typical milk chocolate, but also dark, white, hazelnut, mint, crispy, etc. And in families where the first names often have the same letters, the children often write to Sint to ask that their whole name be spelled out in chocolate letters (Sint doesn't usually go for this!)

In addition to the nightly visits to leave the smaller presents, on the day/afternoon/evening of 5.December, SinterKlaas often makes a personal visit to the children. Sometimes this occurs at school at a big party, sometimes at home in the presence of the assembled family. Of course to arrange such a visit, parents have to book months in advance! Most usually get a neighbor to put the sack of toys in front of the door and knock very loudly. For years we did this with our neighbors who had children older than ours.

One December 5th, when DD1 was 6 and DD2 3&1/2, I had my DH put them in the bath while I got the sack of toys out of the car and arranged for a neighbor to come and knock on our door. While I was outside, who should be walking down our street but SinterKlaas and one of his helpers! They had just finished a visit with one of our neighbors and were on their way to their next appointment. But as they saw me putting the sack by the door, they very kindly asked if they should knock for us!! Well of course! So I quickly got the kids out of the bath and into their robes in time to answer the door. And Sint and Piet brought in the sack and stayed for 5 minutes to take photos. Both girls were very reserved and shy, as I would expect them to be around any stranger. But what an impression! The whole experience was greatly expanded upon and embellished in the telling the next day at school. And of course especially as the presents they found in the sack were somehow exactly what they had wanted and asked Sint for and included some things they had not asked for but quickly fell in love with. The next year they were so excited during this period that every dark figure on the street must have been a Zwarte Piet.

But by the time DD1 was 8, she was starting to already have doubts about SinterKlaas. I had a very good and convincing story to cover the differences between SinterKlaas and Santa Claus (upcoming post), but some classmates at school and older children were telling her there was no such person and that it was the parents that brought the toys. That year I happened to be class Mom and therefore on the morning of 5.December I brought the girls to school and helped out at the party. Therefore I was at school the entire time.

So imagine their surprise when we returned home in the afternoon to find pepernoten and candy strewn throughout the hall, leading to a sack of toys in the living room! In fact, the trail went all the way up both sets of stairs into the top bedroom where I have my office. There were even candies on top of my desk in front of the window which was slightly open! The only possible explanation was that Sint and Piet had visited while we were out because there was no way anyone else could get onto the roof on the third floor and in through the window. And no one else would leave such a mess behind! And since my DH was traveling and did not return home until the evening, and the girls had seen me at school the entire day, the knew it could not have been their parents! So DD1 became a firm believer having hard evidence that she shared with anyone trying to convince her otherwise.

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Future blogs with this title will include more information about Sint vs Santa, Zwarte Pieten, my cover story for the cultural contradictions and my favorite recipe containing pepernoten!

What I Felt When Tasting Pumpkin Pie for the First Time in 15 years or so:

2007-11-24T14:03:00.000+01:00

...Bliss!

Jenn lets anyone play in her backyard, so come join the fun!!

Who is Coming to Your House? (Part I)

2007-11-23T18:53:00.000+01:00

As my good friend Jenn has already told you, the Netherlands and surrounding regions are in full swing to prepare for the upcoming family holiday, the "Feast of Saint Nicholas". "What is this?", you may ask, if you are not familiar with Dutch culture. And how does this compare to Santa Claus? And as a parent with multi-cultural children, how do you reconcile your own traditions, with those of your adopted home? In other words,"Who comes to your house?" For the answer to these very good questions, gentle readers, I provide you in the coming weeks various historical tidbits and trivia, along with stories from my own experiences here and how I dealt with the cultural clash/crisis. I hope, in any case, that it allows you to appreciate your own traditions and to celebrate along with us!

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The tradition of "SinterKlaas" in the Netherlands actually pre-dates the Anglicized version of Santa Claus. In fact Dutch settlers brought the tradition with them in the early 17th century and it morphed through the years into the version most Americans know today. Clement Moore's poem " A Visit from Saint Nicholas" (you know, the one that starts out 'Twas the night before Christmas...) was first published in 1823. Christmas wasn't even a holiday in the US until 1870! Thomas Nast, a cartoonist for Harper's Weekly magazine, was inspired by Moore's poem and did a number of drawings that helped establish the image we have of the current "jolly old elf". And of course, you've probably heard about Coca Cola's contribution to the popular culture with its advertisement campaigns starting in 1931.

But the Dutch have remained faithful to the original "Sanct Herr Nicholaas" tradition that developed slowly from the 11th century, and today's Sinter Klaas wears the Bishop's clothes, miter, ruby ring and staff that are appropriate to the saint around which the legend has arisen. In the Netherlands, as in Belgium, Luxembourg, and parts of Germany, the celebration is on eve of the feast-day and is therefore celebrated on 5.December. However, the actual feast-day is 6.December (Catholics may know this as the feast-day or name-day for Nickolas), which is the anniversary of his death. So while many protestant parts of Germany celebrate on the 5th, the predominant Catholic regions celebrate on the 6th of December.

While Father Christmas in England and Santa Claus in the US have helpers who are elves and a workshop in the North Pole, in Holland SinterKlaas arrives by boat. And just as in the US you see Santa Claus and his helpers in various locations prior to Christmas day, in the Netherlands he arrives usually the second weekend in November, on a steam-boat from Spain! Harbor towns all along the coast of the Netherlands compete for the honor of receiving the much revered holy-man, and every year the celebration of his arrival is accompanied by a big party with television coverage avidly watched by children all over the county. In the weeks following his arrival all the other cities in the Netherlands welcome him into their locale with their own celebration. If they happen to have a canal in their town, then he may arrive on one of the smaller boats. Various elementary schools also welcome him and he has been known to arrive on various modes of transport including rowboat, coach, motorcycle, limousine, bicycle, horseback, and even with the friendly help of a local policecar or fire truck.

While in the US Santa Claus visits the children at their homes with the aid of a sleigh and eight magic reindeer, SinterKlaas makes due in the smaller country of the Netherlands on a magical white, grey-spotted horse named "Amerigo". This sure-footed beast is capable of jumping to the highest of roofs to carry the packages that are magically transported down the chimney by Sint's helpers. And for those who are not blessed with a fireplace, simply leaving your shoes by the door will guarantee that you will not be forgotten!

And while children in the US receive presents only on the 25th of December, Dutch children can actually receive a small gift or treat in their shoes every day from the time SinterKlaas and his helpers arrive in the Netherlands, and then the larger presents in a sack on 5.December! No wonder the kids love him so much!! And believe me when I tell you many a parent has used the threat of SinterKlaas and his helpers possibly peeking in the windows to help modify a child's behavior, especially in the evenings when any shadowy figure on the street could potentially be a "Zwarte Piet"...!

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More on Santa Claus vs. SinterKlaas, the helpers in various countries, my own childrens' experiences with "de goede Sint", and my own story to explain these various cultural contradictions in the upcoming blogs of with this same title!

What We're Doing Today...

2007-11-17T20:23:00.001+01:00

maintenance.

Computer, lawn, desk, house, etc...

Wanna play? Just ask Jenn!

Me, me, meme! (III)

2007-11-13T08:31:00.000+01:00

I am not very good at the "Meme" games that you find on many blogs. In fact I still owe Robin of Around the Island one from way back in August (I didn't forget!). But as I have been struggling with so much drama on the homefront that I've already blogged about, and I am a bit at a loss for my usual enthusiasm and inspiration, this meme from The Real Life Drama Queen hit me at just the right moment, so here goes:

A. The rules of the game are posted at the beginning.

B. Each player lists 6 facts/habits/secrets about themselves.

C. At the end of the post, the player then tags people and posts their names, then goes to their blogs and leaves them a comment, letting them know that they have been tagged and asking them to read your blog.

My Facts:

1. I have trouble accepting compliments. My first reaction is to deny whatever nice thing is being said about me and provide ample evidence to the contrary. In fact that was originally what this blog was going to be about. You see Jen in MI of A2eatwrite awarded me this lovely blog-bling:

with the comment "...for her comforting words and loving demeanor and her use of "Darling" in her comments! And also for her courage in sharing difficult times with us through her blog and showing us that there are many routes in life and we can overcome adversity."

I wanted to tell her how wrong she is and what a true b**ch I can be. But then I know also how hard I am on myself and that the best thing to do when you get a compliment is to beam and blush and say "Thank You". So I am doing my best to beam and blush and overcome my dig-my-toe-in-the-ground, "Aw shucks" reaction. Thanks so much Darlin' Jen! It does make me feel a wee bit special to get such lovely bling and I will do my best to live up to it. And also a "Thank You" to Anno as I just know she was thinking of me for this award as well! I can only say "back at'cha " ladies!

And now the good part where I get to name some of my nicest blogging buddies, only...most of them have already been named by someone else. Fortunately, a few could stand to be named again so I award:

Rebecca James, my lovely Ozzie blogbuddy who is so nice that she can't even be rude when it is absolutely called for (see this post)!

Robin of Around the Island, a blogbuddy in Israel who is so nice about all her frustrations as a Mom that she puts my rants to shame. She is a wonderful example of what I try (but often fail) to live up to. She has great suggestions and links as well and is a truly fun read.

And my lovely "southern" neighbour at Goofballsworld as she is always leaving such funny, encouraging comments and I am dying to meet her in person someday!

2. While I pride myself on being a bit of an ~~egghead~~ intellectual with respect to my sense of humour, I have a very silly weakness for ... "light bulb" jokes! I collect them! I think they are hysterical. For instance: How many psychologists does it take to change a light bulb? Only one, but it takes her a lot of money and a long time and the light bulb really has to want to change. How many Zen Buddhists does it take to change a light bulb? Two, one to change the bulb and one not to change the bulb! Oh I could go on, and I probably will in another post!

3. I have small feet. I wear size 5 1/2 shoes. In Europe this is size 35-36. Problem is adult shoe sizes over here start at size 36-37. I have to look for shoes in the children's departments. Last year I found a great pair of boots that were very reasonably priced and comfortable and fit me well. I almost bought them, until I realized that just above the ankle was an emblem of a bunny! (sigh)

4. I (almost) have "absolute pitch". Almost, because to have true absolute pitch you need to start training very early on to be able to determine whether a note is a half tone sharp or flat and be able to sing any note that is requested on command. I started training in high school when my choir teacher discovered this. But at age 15-16 I found this really boring and did not continue. While this ability is great when you are in the musical world and can make some use of it, it is at times a pain in the "real" world. You cannot imagine the number of times I have had to run from the room or hit the off/mute button on the Radio/TV. There are some pop songs and singers that I just cannot stand to listen to, and unfortunately they seem to be some of the more popular ones. And it took me a long time to understand why the London Philharmonic Orchestra version of a classical piece appeals to me less than the Berlin Philharmonic Orchestra version. Turns out the British tune their orchestra (you know when the first chair violinist plays a note that everyone then plays on their instrument when they are first starting) to a different note (A4 = 440 Hz) from the Germans (A4 = 446 Hz). While either tuning system is perfectly acceptable, and the musical performances are both equally good, the British orchestra just sounds "wrong", not flat or sharp, but not "right". And it bugged me for years before I learned what the difference is. Now I can listen to their recordings and know that it is "okay" and still enjoy the music (After all, we're talking about only 6 Hz difference here!). But I still prefer performances by the German orchestra and other orchestras that have the same tuning. Weird I know, picky, nonsensical. Just one of the little quirks in my life.

5. I have a "somewhat" photographic memory. I can't tell you verbatim what is written on a page or what page it is on, but I can tell you about where something is in a book or magazine (front, middle, back) and on a page (top, bottom, middle) and if there is a photograph or drawing nearby. It has never really helped me in school as I don't have the true recall that will tell me exactly what information is written. Just a vague collection of content and where it is located. It does at times help when I am searching for something I have read, but otherwise is basically a useless ability. Like number 4 above. Weird, and somehow gives me the impression that I am second- or third-best in a category but not really good at anything!

6. I am lousy at names and worse a remembering numbers. At least in terms of brain-vocal connection. However, I can remember a phone number by how it sounds when I dial it and sometimes my hand knows it even when my "brain" doesn't. For instance, I can dial some frequent numbers on the phone without looking. But I cannot possibly tell you what number I have just dialed. And I can hear when I have mis-dialed a number. Another almost useless ability. (sigh)

Now this actually not the first time I have played this kind of game. So if you really are interested in knowing more about my "strangeness", hop on over to this early post from my very first meme, or this one where I do 8 more "interesting" things! I do think the first one has some of my best answers! (Snort Warning! Do not eat or drink around the computer while reading this post!!) And that's it guys. I'm telling you I'm not that interesting!! Don't ask me to do this again!! But I do know a couple of folks who are very interesting and as they are also playing "NaBloPoMo" they might can use this as a(n) ~~substitute~~ excuse for inspiration:

My great friend Jenn-In-Holland at Something to Say... who is welcome to substitute interesting photos for facts if she wants!! Same challenge to her partner-in-blog (check out their Looking Into photoblog) Allison at Soccer Mom In Denial. And another of my favorite writers, who doesn't usually do memes but could use the excuse as a personal favor to me, is our lovely SOS originator 'Twas Brillig.

Something Old, Something New, Something Borrowed...

2007-11-11T00:24:00.000+01:00

And yet another installment of ....

I have been a bit heavy with my last story and I apologize here for this. But this time I flashback for another funny (true) tale from my past.

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While I have used this blog in the past to write about my wedding, I did not mention the adventure that involved the preparations for said day. And yes, this deserves its own SOS!

As I had mentioned, we got married in a civil ceremony in the city where my husband was born and where his family still lives. As neither of us is really into organized religion, we did not opt for the additional church wedding which is where the bride gets really decked out. However, since this was to be the only ceremony we planned, I wanted to wear something special for the day and as suits were a fairly common attire for me at work, I decided to wear a pretty dress. Great compromise, until I just could not find anything that really worked for me. Either too formal or too flashy or too casual. I decided I would wait until I got back to Texas to look for something there. As part of the planning, however, I indulged myself and picked up a German bridal magazine. While looking through it I found the perfect dress! A simple A-line, sleeveless shift with a lace cape overlay. And the magazine included the pattern for the dress!

Now I am not a seamstress, but knew that my Mom would help out and so this was the plan. The next good fortune came when I was walking over the local market and came across a stand selling the most beautiful bolts of lace. I fell in love with a simple cream-colored soft lace and bought the fabric on the spot. Back in Texas 3 weeks prior to the wedding I found matching cream-colored crepe for the dress and satin-like material for the lining and I was off. Now the comedy of errors that represents my sewing skills began. But I did not do too bad and only had about 3 meltdowns and tearful tantrums that required my mother's skills to rescue me. I am sure she rues the day she ever taught me to sew. But in the end it worked out fabulous.

How hard could it have been, you ask? Well, for you novices, crepe and satin are very hard to keep in place when cutting and sewing and tend to slip and slide all over the place. And both materials unravel like crazy so you have to be careful with the strings or else end up with bunches and pulls in the fabric (which I did on numerous occasions). And the pattern, while simple, had an elegant trick to it. The skirt had a "lily hem" which was shorter in the front, hitting just above my knee, and long in the back, dipping down to mid-calf. Trying to get both sides symmetrical was harder than it sounds. Oh, and of course the instructions were all in German!

The cape was also harder than it appeared to be initially. We're talking a circle with a cut on one side and a hole in the middle right? Wrong. It too was shorter in the front than in the back, which made it asymmetrical and called for very great care in cutting. I think I pinned the pattern six times before I started cutting. I even made a newspaper version that I tried on and adjusted before I took scissors to fabric. The cutting of lace is a nightmare in itself. And it had only two seams along the shoulders, but in order to sew it I had to use a layer of tissue paper in between and sew it together, then carefully tear out the tissue paper! AARRRGGGHH!! What had I gotten myself into? It finally got done and all that remained was to hand sew a thin satin ribbon around the neckline and add buttons and ribbon loops up the back. It was optional to add satin ribbon around the cut edges of the lace and so I left out that option. Dress finished!

Fast forward to the night before the wedding. When I looked at the dress hanging there I was not happy with the edges of the lace where it had been cut. So I decided to hand sew the ribbon along the edge. Now figuring that the radius of the cape was about 2 feet, that means 2piR is the length of the hem I would need. That's over 12 feet! In very poor light. The night before my wedding. I obviously had lost my mind!! But in fact it helped to calm the pre-wedding nerves and I actually finished by about 2AM.

As if that wasn't enough drama. My parents and I were staying in a hotel downtown while DH was with his family. As I was only in town for 2 nights and we were to return to Holland the day after the wedding, I only had a small suitcase with the basic necessities with me. And of course what I needed for the wedding. Following the tradition, I had "Something old" - a monogrammed lace handkerchief from my paternal grandmother who shares my first initial, "something new" - pretty new pearl earrings, "something borrowed" - I was going to wear my mother's fancy watch, "something blue" - a hand-sewn blue garter from my best friend back in Texas, "and a lucky penny for my shoe" - actually I had two, a US penny from the year I was born from my Dad and a new German pfennig from the year I got married provided by my future father-in.law.

I was all set...until the next morning. As I was packing light, I had thought to wear the bra I had been wearing the night before. Only when I got dressed for dinner I had decided that the black bra looked better under the dark outfit I was wearing. And I didn't pack a white one for under my wedding dress! Granted I was wearing a slip and the dress was lined, but still there was a shadow that I could see and I was afraid a strap might show as the dress was sleeveless. CRISIS!!

My Mom to the rescue. She had an extra white bra with her and while I am shaped very differently, it still worked well enough! And in the rush I forgot to put on her watch. So guess what my "something borrowed" was!!!

I don't usually do pictures, but this result deserves to be seen!

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For more lovely SOS Tales, please check out our hostess this week Jenn-In-Holland at Something to Say:About Life in the Netherlands. And for previous and future installments, be sure and look at 'Twas Brillig and Walking Kateastrophe who surely deserve the ~~blame~~ credit for starting this addictive fun!

Before I Got Out of Bed...

2007-11-10T10:16:00.000+01:00

afflicted

Check out Jenn-in-Holland for more wonderful words!

Hand Me Downs...

2007-11-05T06:36:00.000+01:00

I was waiting on the school playground to pick up DD2 when I noticed a little girl playing who was wearing a sweater just like one of DD2's. I was about to tell her that and let her know that it was one of DD2's and my favorites and that it was really pretty. Then she ran to her mother who was in the circle of moms I was chatting with and I realized it wasn't like DD2's sweter, it was her sweater that I had passed on to my girlfriend a few months ago. It was shocking to realize that indeed, DD2 was much too big for that lovely sweater and it was getting some good wear on my friend's daughter. I complimented her and she said, "Yes, I got it from DD2. It's my favorite!"

In the next minute I noticed out of the corner of my eye a little blonde head wearing a T-shirt I had seen many times on Jenn-In-Holland's daughter. In my mind's eye I flashed on her and then realized I was looking at my own DD2 who had grown into Jenn's daughter's clothes. How could it be that my little one was now such a big girl? (sigh)

I love hand-me-downs. Not only do they appeal to the "ecology nut" side of my nature, but seeing familiar clothes brings back such lovely memories of other young bodies doing similar or different things. For me, there is no sigma attached to hand-me-downs, only love.

Pitiful Parents Anonymous

2007-11-04T12:22:00.001+01:00

Yes the SOS players now have button! 'Twas Brillig and Walking Kateastrophe have outdone themselves in their efforts to provide us a place to play on Sundays. Need to know more? You can visit them or this week visit our Soapy Hostess Thalia's Child. Don't miss out on the fun!!

My post this week is about a real-time Soap Opera. This might end up being an on-going story for some time, but I hope it won't have weekly updates!!

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"Good afternoon. I'd like to welcome you all to Pitiful Parent Anonymous. Our first speaker today is Fourier.Analyst."

"Hi, my moniker is FA and I'm the parent of an OCD child. It has been about 12 hours since my last meltdown with her."

"Hi FA", the group responds.

"It is so hard watching your child struggling with something you don't understand and can't imagine. You can't protect them. You can't make it better. No amount of tears or hugs, no amount of understanding or patience, no amount of long, calm (as possible) discussions, nothing leads to any answers, solutions, or relief. And even when you finally acknowledge this is out of your hands and needs to be dealt with by a professional, you are given the information that it might never be really fixed. And that the process to discover what might work will be long and full of dead ends and solutions that don't work.

And so you go on with daily life, trying to get back to some sort of normalcy. But then that unfortunately includes the everyday nagging that seems to cause so much stress. Still, you maintain the requirements of clean clothes everyday, some semblance of body hygiene, regular semi-healthy meals, rudimentary efforts at keeping the chaos out of the living room and the rest of the house, a daily effort at doing homework and an occasional stab at clearing a space in your child's bedroom. And with these come the expected adolescent temper tantrums and vocal responses that grate on nerves and stretch parental patience.

Moans and complaining sessions over coffee with other Moms tell you that this is typical behaviour, but you know that there is a difference. The level of hysteria that comes from a simple question or request is beyond a "normal" response. The escalation into screaming fits, and destruction of property, followed by sullen silences and hiding and the discovery of more wads of hair from an already brutalized head, no, this is not normal. But I'm tired of crying every day, and am sure to do so if I talk about it any further. And so I just nod and sigh and drink my tea without going into further details.

My close friends know the gory details. We hug and cry together, laugh when possible and change the subject when it all just gets to be too much. I'm smart enough to know this is not all my fault, despite how much she tries to tell me it is. I know she doesn't really hate me, though this is very hard to believe when she is screaming it with such conviction. I know she doesn't want to leave home, though I fully expect running away from home to be one of the next escalations of the pattern of behaviour. And I know she doesn't want me to leave and would be sorry if I suddenly died and regret forever her last words to me.

It is taking its toll on the whole family, but most of all on me. My own Fibromyalgia illness makes my body very ill-suited to handling the stress chemicals that are released so often. I am in physical pain for so much of the time that I don't even notice anymore unless it steps up a level. Everyday tasks leave me exhausted and while exercise is the best medicine for me, I can hardly get the strength to get the kids where they need to be and can't even face the prospect of a workout. I am on the verge of tears so much of the time I don't dare face gym buddies I have not seen for a while who would certainly ask how I am and where I've been. And I have been known to have to leave in the middle of yoga class, on days when things were going fairly well, to cry in the bathroom just from the release of tension from holding myself together that I was not even aware of.

So it is a daily struggle that I am resigned will result in more of the same. We are currently on the merry-go-round of specialists who can advise on the treatment that is needed. But it is a slow process in an already over-burdened medical system. She's not yet considered a real danger to herself, though she is clearly on that path if we don't intervene soon. So we have another appointment next week to be followed by a course therapy and very likely a referral and another period of waiting before we finally get on the pharmaceutical roller-coaster and hopefully eventually find some stability.

The hardest part for me as a parent is not the current reality, though I am struggling with that burden. But knowing that this is an ongoing problem that my beautiful child will struggle with for the rest of her life. It is not how I imagined her future and while I know that for the most part she will have a normal, happy life, I worry about the periods of torment. These are the thoughts that keep me from sleep. These are the fears that tear at my heart. These are the struggles that make me shake my fist at fortune and curse the gods who have placed such a trial on one so innocent and full of promise. And at the times when I have exhausted myself with of these thoughts and finally manage quieten my mind, the small "I told you so" voice comes out reminding me of the doubts I had about my ability to be a good mother.

I know I am in the middle of the "grief process". I have battled through the denial of the problem and acknowledged that this is out of my hands and needs professional help. I have raged the "Why me?/Why her?/What did we do wrong?" theme to until it no longer needs asking and I know that there are no answers. I have negotiated all the various efforts to make things better and tried to let things go on without any parental intervention until I realized that this was only leading to more chaos in her life and more stress in mine. There is no bargaining with this condition. It will not wait until after test week or take a break during family vacations. It is here and now. I guess I've reached the stage of depression. It all looks bleak and scary ahead and I am just very, very sad.

But on the other side of this will be acceptance and I'm working towards this. There are worse problems in the world. And I am amazed to hear from other women I admire and believe are living examples of "SuperMom" that they too have been down this path and there is hope and help on the way. So I tell you this tale of my struggle to cope one day at a time and more than ever how fiercely I say the prayer that closes every PPA meeting:"

God, grant me the serenity
to accept the things I cannot change;
the courage to change the things I can;
and the wisdom to know the difference.

"The Serenity Prayer" by Reinhold Niebuhr

Singular Saturday - The New Game in Town!

2007-11-03T15:55:00.000+01:00

Fretting.

We're following the leader! 'Cuz all the Cool Kids are!

Trouble comes in Threes...

2007-10-29T12:19:00.000+01:00

I know I have been AWOL this past week. There's just been so much going on and I am only now getting around to posting about it. I hope to be more regular in posting, and I have been lurking and commenting occasionally, but as you will see, I have been otherwise occupied...

I have never really been superstitious. I don't believe in astrology or any other mystical ideas, although the idea of karma for bad acts coming back and biting you does quite appeal to me. But one thing I have noticed in my life is the "action of 3". For instance, whenever we go on a trip, I will usually forget 3 things. Often they are small things, but once I have realized I have forgotten something, then I won't rest until I remember what the other 2 things are.

Trouble also comes in threes it seems, at least in my life. And this past month has hit us with two major things, so far...

My father-in-law was diagnosed two years ago with bladder cancer. He had two surgeries and chemo and has been in remission ever since. Until his check up a couple of weeks ago. So he's had another bout of surgery and will undergo a second session again in a couple of weeks. It has understandably caused some major stress in our family.

But the second crisis is what has me most concerned. About a year ago, DD1 pulled out all her eyelashes. It occurred in a couple of hours while she was reading a book and I was cooking in the kitchen. Needless to say we were horrified and started the round of doctors and ophthalmologists to come up with a vague conclusion that she had allergies and they caused her to rub her eyes and pick at her eyelashes. Only trouble is, the lashes never seemed to grow back

I knew that there was something more going on, so started the process to get a referral to a child psychologist. We finally got the referral but it took 3 weeks before we got the first appointment. And then 2 weeks ago I noticed a spot on DD1's head. She said that some hair had been pulled out when she was climbing a tree. Yeah, right. And then the spot got bigger and we found wads of hair she had been pulling out. Pulling out herself!! After confronting her with the evidence she finally could not lie anymore. And that was just the beginning.

Trichotillomania. That's the name for the condition. It affects between 3-5% of the population, usually female. And it is not uncommon that it starts in adolescence. It is a form of obsessive-compulsive disorder. And there are various forms of treatment. But no guarantee of success.

The past week the kids have been home for vacation, and DD1 has been working on a project for school that is due next week. Instead of being a break from stress, we have had some major "flare-ups" and now DD1 is missing about 20% of her hair. It looks terrible and there is no hiding it. And since her school does not allow for hats or hoods to be worn during class, she is going to have to deal with the attention from her classmates. Wednesday, when we have the appointment with the psychologist, cannot come soon enough.

So those are the two crises. And while I'm not superstitious and I don't want to be pessimistic, I am just dreading what comes next...

Fully Booked...

2007-10-17T11:01:00.000+02:00

I truly believe that you should not judge a book by its cover, but you can find out a lot about a person by learning what they read.

I have a confession to make. I don't read very many books. That's not to say I don't own over 1000 on my very own, and not counting the shelves of my husband's and both daughters' private stashes. Books fill the shelves in almost every room in our house. Books "To Read" are stacked dresser-high in two piles beside my bed. I scour second-hand bookstores and go overboard on on-line ordering when they have free-shipping to my neck-of-the-woods. My suitcases push the maximum allowed luggage limits when we return from the US because of the books I am bringing with me. Books are my favorite thing to give and receive. Instead of stickers, as soon as they were old enough to read, my girls started earning books for good marks on tests and extra-good behavior. And I read voraciously. But for the last several years my reading has been more focused on periodicals. I read all the periodicals that come into my house cover-to-cover. So every month my reading includes Texas Highways, Smithsonian, Discover, Scientific American, National Geographic, 4-5 Time magazines, and 3-4 telecom/datacom/computer periodicals. Plus the weekly Dutch national newspaper on the weekend and the 4 local free newspapers that come through the door every week. And of course the advertisements, which is the only way to know what to shop for as there is a limited supply of the specials and you need to be there the first day for a really good deal! And on occasion I treat myself to an O Magazine, and/or Good Housekeeping, and/or Ladies Home Journal, just to appease my domestic instincts. Some months I indulge in a magazine swap with other English-speaking ex-pats and I get British versions of domestic magazines as well as tabloids from the UK (which I generally just skim through). And some months I get behind. (I am still on the July issue of NatGeo!) Some are appropriate for reading while on the elliptical trainer so they suffer a bit from being stuffed in the gym bag. But I absolutely cannot do more than 5 minutes on the walking or biking machines without something to read!

And while I have been surfing the web since before it was world-wide (I was on the DARPA-net back in 1979!), I only discovered blogging this summer and now I read dozens on an almost daily basis. Seriously, I have over 70 blog sites under various bookmark folders!

So, I really have (convinced myself I have) a legitimate excuse for not reading books. So why do I feel so embarrassed when I have been picked (honored?) by Anno for the Book Meme? Because I love books and I want to be able to play and contribute to this wonderful list. I want to sound witty and erudite and insightful. I want to wax poetic and appear sophisticated and deep. I want to hint at my witty sense of humor and intrigue at the depths of my philosophical mind. But instead, as I answered these questions I feel I come off dull and snobby and much too academic and one-sided (sigh). I guess we cannot always live our best life. So here, dear readers, is the unvarnished F.A. as given to you by the Book Meme....

Total Number of Books
Over 1000. If I took time to actually count I would a) get caught up in reading one I had forgotten I had or meant to read a long time ago, b) be depressed at how many we have and berate myself (again) for not being able to part with them and therefore c) not get around to writing this blog!!

Last Book Read
Actually I am not quite finished, but it is one book I have actually picked up to read in the last year: Planet Earth, the book companion to the BBC series. Gorgeous, breathtaking photos, inspiring text that stirs up my travel lust, and heartbreaking facts that really bring home the loss we would face if we don't get the current environmental disasters under control.

Last Book Bought
Ha! It wasn't for me, it was for my Mom. And it isn't even out in print yet! But it sounds great and will be a late Christmas/birthday present for her when it comes out in the US in April. It is Shakespeare's Wife by Germaine Greer.

Oh, you wanted to know the book I bought for myself? That was Present at the Future: from Evolution to Nanotechnology, Candid and Controversial Conversations on Science and Nature by Ira Flatow (the voice on NPR's "Science Friday". It has some great essays based on his interviews with various scientists through the years (the one on why the bubbles sink in a newly poured pint of Guinness, even as the head goes up and why champagne quickly goes flat when there is lipstick on the glass makes for great party small talk!). It is being published this month and I can't wait to read it (I just hope it doesn't end up on the "To Read" pile for too long ...).

Five Meaningful Books
All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten (Uncommon thoughts on Common Things) by Robert Fulghum. If ever I get too stressed and caught up in the fast pace of life and think I just can't cope, I read one of the essays in this book or the others he has written. I am guaranteed a laugh and perspective. What more can you ask from a book?

Gödel, Escher, Bach: An Eternal Golden Braid by Douglas Hofstadter. Guaranteed to twist my mind into thinking about the world in a different way. I can literally feel the neural pathways stretching to reach further in my brain as I try to fathom how such geniuses came up with their brilliant insights. It makes me feel very small and at the same time expands my mind and opens my consciousness. Can't get more meaningful than that!

A Brief History of Time by Stephen W. Hawking. This slim volume addresses some of the largest concepts in science - the fundamental questions about the origin and end of the universe around us. He reviews and explains in relatively simple language the theories and discoveries that shape the current scientific thought. And the book became a bestseller which is a real achievement in the realm of physics!

The Tao of Physics by Fritjof Capra. Another physics book that made the international bestseller list. Instead of exploring the very large concepts, this one looks at the puzzles of quantum theory and the smallest known particles and was one of the first to make a link with Eastern mysticism. While it is a bit difficult to read for the layperson, its influence on the scientific community was profound to say the least. It sparked a number of controversies and criticisms but also opened up new ways of thinking and talking about science that has made these topics more accessible to many young people.

Sophie's World by Jostein Gaarder. I originally purchase this for DD1 but of course wanted to screen it first. I became so engrossed in the journey this book took me on that I determined to fill in the large gaps in my education and read up on the philosophers I had previously only heard of. (That was the plan anyway, and explains a number of the books in my "To Read" pile). The book takes a 14-year-old girl on a journey of discovery through the history of Western philosophy. It is accessible and interesting for young teens and should be required reading in all schools!

I know, a somewhat cerebral list that leaves me appearing rather one-dimensional. I'm afraid that is kind of how things are in my life right now. Too many books, too little time... But I do know a few other players who might have much more interesting lists. The shelves I want a peek at include Jenn-in-Holland (who somehow seems to manage to read more in one month than I do in a year), Gunfighter (who also reads extensively and does great book reviews, so I know he will have something interesting), Leslie (who has such a great sense of humor that I just know she has something fun on her list), and Robin (who has such a different life from mine but so many similarities that I just want a peek at more!). Anyone else want to play? Consider yourself tagged!!

It's Not Easy Being Green...

2007-10-14T19:38:00.000+02:00

Today is Soap Opera Sunday, and Monday when a lot of us do our blog reading is Blog Action Day, so I thought I would take advantage of the regular readership and combine my post for these two great actions (and maybe generate some new S.O.S. readers in the process!). For those of you unfamiliar with S.O.S., please check out the blog of 'Twas Brillig for the rules and other links (our other hostess Walking Kateastrophe is sitting out this week). They are (in)famous for the "recycling" of various tales of romance, drama, heartbreak, mayhem, and various (environmentally friendly) sudsy tales and provide all the links on their blogs. And for those of you unaware of Blog Action Day, this action co-ordinates bloggers around the world to think and write about a single important topic. In this, its inaugural year, the topic is the environment. And what, dear S.O.S. readers, could be so dramatic about the environment that it would generate such a soapy tale? Just read on...

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Several years ago when DD1 was in the Dutch equivalent of first grade, her class got involved in a project to help "Save the Environment" and each child came home with a contract that they were to sign that committed them and their family to doing one extra thing for a whole month to reduce the amount of waste that their family contributes to the environment. While this sounds like a great principle, it created a major dilemma for us as we were already doing almost everything we could to reduce the amount of waste we generate. The contract came with a few simple examples that we had already been following for years:

Paper recycling - including the brochures and free newspapers, old envelopes, receipts and financial papers that have been shredded, etc. We even took this a step further and re-used gift wrap at least once before putting it in the old-paper bin for recycling. And already for 2 years we had been supplying the school with "scrap paper" for drawing, etc. as my husband collected the cover-sheets from computer printouts at work which had only 3 lines on one side of the paper!
Glass recycling - food jars, wine bottles, cosmetics containers, etc. Again, we had been doing that for years. And taken it even further by re-using glass jars for leftover sauces and condiments in the fridge. And I had the previous month supplied the school with 2 dozen small jars of similar size and shape for use in one of their art projects!
Composting - putting coffee grounds, potato peels, banana skins, with leaves and grass cuttings to be decomposed and used on the garden. In our village, every other week the "brown bin" is collected where all the decomposable waste can be put in. And every summer there is an announcement telling the families when they can pick up their 2 free bags of fully decomposed compost mulch for use in their gardens. We have always been very conscious about what we put in the compost bin and this container is usually fuller than the regular trash bin collected on the alternate weeks.

But the idea of the project was to do something more. I wrote a nice letter to her teacher explaining how we were already doing all that we knew how to do and the next afternoon received an even nicer note with a few suggestions of additional things that she thought we could do:

Clothes and textile recycling - at various locations there are containers that accept clothes, shoes, linens, etc that are re-used, recycled or turned into rags. First of all, our family is a big proponent of hand-me-downs. My kids grew up loving to get clothes their cousin or older friends had worn. And when they were small, I shopped the second-hand stores for many of their jeans, jackets and playtime wear. And I have never thrown any item of clothing away if it could potentially be re-used by someone. Even old sheets and dishtowels become rags and floor clothes. And I have a pile of jeans and T-shirts that are used for patching knees and will eventually become a quilt (following my grandmother's tradition). The final stop for any clothes that cannot really be re-used is the recycle container where they can be turned into rags or filler.
Books - Holland has a number of second-hand stores that accept books. Books that are damaged can also be put in the old paper recycling containers. You should realize I have trouble parting with any of my books and my children have inherited this pack-rat tendency. And I am very familiar with the local second-hand bookstores as I shop there regularly and have on occasion also sold them books. In other words, we do not throw away books. We even pass magazines on to friends and others we share with the school for use in their crafts.
Toys - Many playthings are that are still in good condition can be donated to charity organizations for re-sale. Again, been there, done that. In fact, I am greeted by name at the local toy re-sale shop. The love getting the US toys and English language books as it offers something different they can sell in their shop!

We were at a loss for an additional idea. We already recycled the water we used for boiling eggs and used it for watering plants. We save our dish washing and clothes washing for evenings and weekends when the electricity and water burden on the networks are less and costs are lower. We have always used environmentally friendly cleaning products. We carpool and bike when possible. And we even took recycling a step further. I have always been known at school as the "Mom to go to for help with crafts". I have collected small bottles and plastic lids, glass containers, toilet and paper towel rolls, photo film canisters, CD's, wooden popsicle sticks, plastic shopping bags, buttons, fabric scraps, even an old mosquito net that has been cut up and used for several different costumes. We rarely use plastic or aluminum foil and almost never buy canned soft drinks or tins of vegetables. We even collect the plastic covers that our magazines come in and use them for storing small items such as toys, rubber bands, etc. A couple kept in the pocket or purse are handy for use at the market when buying vegetables and the standholders are happy to not have to provide them. And plate of leftovers can be stored in the fridge overnight inside one of these bags. I have two collapsible bags with handles in my purse that I use when shopping. I have given a number of them as birthday and Christmas gifts. My kids take their own drink containers to school and I buy fruit juice in larger bottles that are returnable.

And we have always been very careful about chemical waste. Used batteries are stored for when the "Chemical Car" comes to collect about once every two months. This vehicle, operated by the village, also collects any old household rest products such as paint, cleaning fluid, insecticides, aerosol spay cans, old medicines, and small electrical appliances and disposes of them responsibly. We have always used re-chargeable batteries or used an adapter instead of disposable batteries. And vinegar is one of my favorite cleaning products for cleaning glass and removing grease! Where possible we use CFC light bulbs and we turn off lights and electrical appliances when not in use. We use cloth hand towels instead of paper and coffee mugs instead of disposable cups (even at work!).

We have even adapted our gift-giving as often times there is really nothing we need or want and it is difficult to find something to send overseas friends and family. So instead we have a number of websites (listed here) where we can give to a charity in someone's name and they will receive a card describing their gift and how it helps. DD1 loved "adopting" a dolphin one year. One of my favorite gifts from my last birthday was a goat!

In other words, we have always been a very ecologically conscious family and have adapted our lifestyle as far as possible to try and live what we believe in. So when this project came along, it created a major drama (appropriate for S.O.S.) in our family to try and come up with something more we could do to meet the requirements of the contract our daughter wanted to sign and set a good example for her. She was in floods of tears at the thought of being the only one who could not put down something on the contract and my explanation that we were probably the most ecologically-minded family at the entire school did nothing to comfort her! Finally a search on the internet turned up a new (old) idea: re-using eggshells! My husband then remembered his grandmother used to do this!

Almost every Sunday, we each have one or two eggs. And until then we had been putting the eggshells in the brown bin with the other compost. But I read that eggshells were a good way of adding a natural calcium fertilizer to the soil, and this was a good way to help prevent the moss from growing in the garden. All you need to do is dry the eggshells and grind them down to a fairly fine powder...

So this was our solution. We bought a small metal mortar and pestle and it became DD1's task to grind up the shells for use in the garden. Our solution was well-received by her teacher and classmates and in later years when she was in the throes of the "Harry Potter" craze she referred to this task as her "Potions" homework! And we have noticed a significant reduction of moss in our garden!

It's not a big thing, but it is one more small thing that allowed us to need less fertilizer for the grass and still have a nice lawn. And it made my daughter happy! But Kermit did know what he was talking about with the song "It's Not Easy Being Green..."!

I hope I have in some small way helped you to think about the environment and ways you too can "Reduce your footprint"! And I wish you all a great S.O.S. and Blog Action Day!

Laying on of Hands

2007-10-09T15:05:00.000+02:00

For my birthday, which was way back in April, birthday blog coming soon.... Anyway, one of the presents I received was for a facial from a lady I had not heard of. Apparently she is a well-kept secret in our little village and her location is something you would pass by without looking into. Now I know why she is such a secret! No one wants to share for fear that they may not be able to get an appointment! I booked at the end of summer and was a bit surprised that I had to wait 2 months, but figured she might be taking vacation or something and was not bothered.

So this afternoon, I went along expecting the usual treatment routine. Now you should know that I am not really into make-up and skin care and the whole beauty regimen. I do scrub-up pretty good on special occasions, but other than moisturizer and lip gloss, I do not go to much trouble on a daily basis. I have given myself the occasional mask and scrub and overnight cream, and yes I have started noticing the laugh lines are deeper and there is a crease in my brow demonstrating how often I use raised eyebrows as part of my expression. And every couple of years I go to a beauty salon and get a deluxe treatment.

So today I was expecting the usual round of steaming, scrubbing, cleansing, mask, moisturizing, hot-towels and cool eye pads and that I would come out shiny and polished and fresh. But today was different.

It started with the usual steam and light scrub. Then a nice smelling facial cream was smoothed on my skin. And then was heaven. I have had, on occasion, massages where I did not want the end to come. But for the most part, treatments I have had have come nowhere near the Biblical description of the healing power associated with the "laying on of hands". Until today. I cannot begin to describe the various techniques of small circles of light pressure and butterfly-light finger taps combined with strokes along the small muscles and gentle contact on accupressure points. Time did not fly by, it seemed to stand still. I think I forgot to breathe, though the automatic nervous system kicked in and I didn't pass out. For a good 40 minutes or so I experienced the ever-changing variety of techniques developed by Elaine in her 27 years of experience. She has treated burn victims and people with various scars and skin problems and developed her own method of stress relief via massage and she definitely knows what she is doing.

I could feel the tension releasing in my brow and the crows-feet starting to develop around my eyes have been shooed away for a while at least. I not only look younger after her treatment, I feel younger. I had my eyes closed during the massage and when I opened them it was as if I was seeing a new world.

And then she started the cleansing regimen. After cleansing the massage lotion off with the usual steamed towel and a light astringent, she applied a moisturizing cream using large make-up brushes! The feeling of the brushes over my skin with its heightened awareness was a delicious sensation. After a cup of tea and a chat, she finished the treatment with a scalp and shoulder massage to get the blood circulating. I left after 90 minutes feeling more relaxed and energized that I have felt in months. And I thought of 3 people I was dying to tell about this wonderful treat, knowing they would love it as much as I do.

And then I thought of how long I have had to wait to get this first appointment, and I'm now going to have to battle some very selfish instincts before I can share...!

Newbie Parents' First Night

2007-10-04T09:07:00.000+02:00

There has been various talk of children, babies, diapers, etc. on some of the blogs I regularly read, so I was inspired this week to tell one of my favorite diaper experiences. And yes, as are all my Soap Opera Sunday stories, this is very true. New to this blog and don't know what an S.O.S. story is? Well you are in for a treat if you will just hop over to either 'Twas Brillig or Walking Kateastrophe, and follow their links to all the other players and their sudsy tales! Other of my tales are found under the S.O.S label on this page.

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Prior to the birth of DD1, I did what every professional woman does I am sure, and bought a number of baby books and read up on the experience. I also visited the new Moms in my neighborhood, oohed and aahed over their offspring, and listened to stories of deliveries and doctors visits. I talked to girlfriends with children and heard how their lives had changed, and knew it would be the same for me. I was as prepared as was theoretically possible.

I entered into my final month of pregnancy feeling strong and confident and looking forward to the remaining 3-4 weeks, knowing that the "due date" was not an exact science and fully expecting my firstborn to procrastinate coming into the hard, cold world as long as possible. After all, her father was a world champion procrastinator and had not yet set up the baby bed and rest of the furniture.

So of course, our little bundle of joy/frustration/surprise set the pattern of contrariness which she continues to follow (her 12th birthday was Friday), and was born 3 weeks early! I don't really have a horror story so cannot really participate in the great Gyno-Fest "From Behind the Stir-Ups" that is currently being hosted by our lovely 'Twas Brillig and Amy from the Butrfly Garden. Childbirth in the Netherlands is considered a natural experience and over half of all births are in the home. I read one year the percentage was a high as 77%! And the Netherlands ranks as one of the countries with the lowest infant mortality in the world. So while you may see your OB/GYN for pre-natal care and check-ups, you can also book with a mid-wife and see her at the same time. And insurance will cover the costs for both! The theory is that if something goes wrong with the home birth, you would have a back-up and your records would be in the hospital system in case you had to deliver there. And encouraging home births is cheaper for the insurance companies and they are no fools! As an alternative, you can choose to deliver in the hospital but you are not required to stay for any longer than is medically indicated! (Flash to the future, DD2 was born around 3 AM and I was home with her be 10 AM. It would have been sooner but I had to call and wake up hubby to come back and get me!). But I digress...

DD1 was a "complete breach" birth, which means she was born butt first with her feet up by her ears. (I told you she was contrary!) She was a vaginal birth, no Cesearean, which horrified my mother to learn about, but I was very pleased. (Again, the Netherlands has a fairly low rate of C-sections as they are used only when deemed medically necessary!) Due to a potential lung infection and the fact that she was a breach birth and "early", not premature, but not a good birthweight, they kept us both in the hospital for 2 nights.

Finally we were released home on a Saturday morning and were visited shortly afterwards by the "kraamhulp". This is a home nurse who comes everyday for up to 10 days after the baby's birth. Her duties are to look after the mother and child, taking temperature and blood pressure, monitoring how much they both sleep and eat, and excrete and noting this in the charts. She also does light housekeeping and cleaning, prepares meals for the mother and any young children, changes and bathes the baby, helps teach these skills and aids with nursing and feeding the baby and getting both mother and child settled into their new routine. She is present for the first doctor's home visit and reports on any problems she has noticed. And in general helps give new parents the information and training they need in caring for their newborn.

After our helper, Jenny, had visited and helped us change the diaper, we were left to the first afternoon and evening at home as a "family". As DD1 had been a bit jaundiced and was still a rather low birth weight, we were cautioned to notice and make sure that she was nursing enough and urinating regularly. So after the first time of nursing her by myself (success!) we both went upstairs to change her diaper. And we found that it was completely dry. No worries, so we put her to bed and a couple of hours later she was crying again to be fed (we started on a 3-4 hour schedule). Everything went smoothly, but again, the diaper was completely dry. Now the inexperienced motherly concern is coming on. But I did not let myself panic until after the next time I nursed her. Still the diaper was dry. By now it is midnight and I am not about to sleep through the night without getting her checked out by a doctor. My husband's cooler head prevailed and instead of rushing us off to the hospital, he had me call the night service of our family doctor. The doctor on the phone listened to my rundown of DD1's birth and history, and the list of the complications including the jaundice, and concerns and my description of the problem as my voice cracked from the barely controlled rising hysteria I felt.

The doctor listened patiently and then asked me what kind of diaper we were using, cloth or disposable? "Disposable." I replied. "Well," he said," In my experience, these new disposable diapers are so efficient that they may seem to be perfectly dry when in fact, they have absorbed quite a bit of fluid. Take a fresh diaper and put it on the baby scale and weigh it. Then weigh the diaper you have just taken off the baby. If there is more than 100 grams of difference, you can be assured that your baby's kidneys are functioning as they should be. If not, call me back and I will make a house call."

Of course, there was no house call necessary. Funny, how all the books and preparations still did not cover this "emergency"! I don't think I have ever felt more stupid!

Happy Weekend and enjoy the rest of the S.O.S. stories!

To Hell in a Handbasket...

2007-10-01T07:46:00.000+02:00

One of the things that Jenn-in-Holland and I unfortunately share is our attitude towards the lack of respect and out-of-control behavior of the youth that are in the urban communities in Holland. I cannot tar all Dutch youth with the same brush, and I suspect that behavior in the more rural areas of Holland is more observed and therefore more controlled. But in the area known as the "Randstad", which is a triangle of communities bounded by Amsterdam-the Hague-Rotterdam, the behavior and total disrespect for people, property, environment, etc. is appalling to the point of being shocking. And what is even worse is the attitude of adults, teachers, parents, and even the local law enforcement. It is more than just a "les affaire" attitude, as when confronted with the mischief of children/youths the adults responsible shrug it off with a "let kids be kids, why make a big deal of it, there's nothing you can do so just accept it" mentality that is pervasive across the social spectrum.

It is evident on Dutch school campuses, where children are left to their rough physical games and bullying has become such a social problem that educational classes are held that require parents and students to attend. But part of the responsibility should also lie with the teachers who do not interfere with the games and set rules and boundaries that the students are held to. At the Primary school where my kids attend, the International Stream is a department encompassing slightly less than half the school population. Dutch and International kids mix during recesses and lunch times. And there have been confrontations and cultural issues as well as personal space problems. But the attitude of the Dutch teachers is to "let the kids work it out", with no guidance or example being given by the adults.

It seems that the bigger the city, the bigger the problem. The graffiti and trash in the city centers is simply disgusting. And it cannot be blamed on the population density alone as there are comparable size cities in neighboring countries of Belgium and Germany and the differences are quite striking (and almost nauseating). The Dutch like to label themselves as being tolerant, with lenient attitudes about prostitution, smoking and soft drugs. But this "toleration" is taken several steps too far when the communities turn such a blind eye to the beginnings of real anti-social behavior. And the blame here lies with the parents who do not supervise where their children are after dark or question why they have spray paint on their hands and clothes. I guess it would interfere with the "freedom of expression" that kids are encouraged to have.

Possibly we have experienced more problems in my family because we are foreign and especially with my husband being German. But it makes my blood boil when I hear 7- and 8-year old children yelling at my girls in Dutch "I hate Germans! Filthy Germans go back to your own country." and other such things. I guess I should have realized how it would be already 20 years ago when we booked a vacation via a Dutch tourist agency. We of course ended up in a hotel and on bus tours with Dutch nationals. With our limited language skills, it was obvious that we were foreigners and my husband has an unmistakable German accent. He was confronted by a man in his 60's who demanded of him "Ik wil mijn fiets terug", which translates as "I want my bicycle back" It seems taht during the Nazi occupation, the soldiers limited the mobility of the Dutch population by confiscating all modes of transportation, including and especially bicycles. This man's anger at this outrage was directed 40+ years later at my husband simply because he was German. I guess the infamous Dutch toleration extends only to Dutch citizens. How can we blame the younger generation for their attitudes when this is the example they have from their grandparents?

Tonight my anger is stirred up by the regular neighborhood terrorists. I know that is a strong word in this day and age, but it defines how I feel. We live in a fairly "upscale" neighborhood in one of the "wealthiest" villages in the Netherlands (which basically means that the housing prices are over-the-top outrageous). Our house is an end house in a row of 4 connected houses. We live on a corner and have an exposed brick wall at the side of our house. Unlike some of our neighbors, we did not choose to put a fence around our house and front yard. Instead we have a kid-friendly lawn with grass in front and on the side of the house. It makes it easy to park next to the house where the sidewalk is only 1.5 feet wide. You are able to fully open your car door and get in and out without banging your car door on a fence or into some bushes. And our front lawn provides no barrier to the door and there is no wall in front of our kitchen windows.

All of these apparently make our house an irresistible target to the neighborhood children who love to ring doorbells and run away. A rather "harmless" game, except that often I have to descend 2 flights of stairs to answer the door, and it doesn't happen occasionally, and the kids don't stop at doing it once. No, they keep on doing it until you come out and chase them or contact their parents. We have tried the strategy of ignoring the bell, going so far as to disconnect the doorbell one time. This led to the escalation whereby apples, tomatoes and eggs were thrown at our house. We even had to gall to go away on vacation therefore leaving the door unanswered, only to come back to find that eggs and dog excrement had been thrown on our front walls and left to dry in the summer heat. Despite high-pressure steam cleaning, the evidence of this calling card is still visible years later.

There's one teenager who lives a block away around the corner. He is serious trouble-in-the-making. Whenever his parents have a party, and he has friends over, their favorite activity is to come and disturb our peace. My kids are in bed usually by 9PM. This kid is usually just getting started. So the doorbell rings, and rings. Trash cans are knocked over. Balls are kicked and thrown against the side of the house. Bushes and plants are tramped on in their effort to run away when we do come to the door. It happened again last week in broad daylight. After the third ring on the door, I got my keys and ignored the teenagers who were running away. I went, for the 10th (or more) time, to call upon this boy's mother. I make a big show of coming up her sidewalk, slamming the gate to the fence she has in front of her windows, ringing her doorbell loudly several times in order to be sure she would have to interrupt her conversation with her friends. When she answered the door, I asked her if she knew where her son was. Her reply was "I guess he's at your house again." When I assured her he was, she said she would call his mobile and get him to come home. No apology. No outrage or shame on her part. Just matter-of-fact why-are-you-bothering-me irritation. Unfortunately, she did not reach him before he and his buddies had started writing obscenities on the side wall of our house. This time it was chalk. Next time it will likely be spray paint. As I returned home, the teen, who is already taller than me, got in my face (as in two inches away) and started yelling that I was going to be sorry for bothering him (obviously his mother had called). I yelled even louder, causing some of my neighbors to look out of their windows. I wanted witnesses. As my husband was out of town that week, I did not take it any further, but simply took pictures and added them to the documentation we have of these kinds of events.

Why do I bother documenting it? Why have I not called the local police right away? Well I used to, whenever things were getting out of hand. One of the last times, the operator I spoke to was obviously looking at her computer and she said "Well, it seems you have made a number of complaints and called us on several occasions. Is this really necessary?" Since then I have only called once and that was to alert the police and fire department about the boys setting fire to the old Christmas trees on the sidewalk in front of our house at 2AM. I now have a list of phone numbers of most of the parents of the offending kids. I call the Moms when the nonsense starts up. If they are not home, I am sure to call during dinner time and keep calling until I get an answer to let the parents know that their child is again disturbing my family.

Last week a new family moved onto the block, with a little boy between the ages of my 2 girls. This afternoon he was playing with some of the other kids and they of course got him to be the one to ring the bell. I did not see him clearly the first time. But I did the second time. I immediately confronted his mother who called him home. He showed up later with his big sister and denied ever doing it. But I had seen him from my kitchen, when I was standing where he could not see me. His sister defended him. I told them both that he was lying and that this was not acceptable. I had seen him clearly. I saw the label on the back of his jacket when he ran away. But he still denied it. And his sister did not believe me. And I am sure his mother, who could not be bothered to come and speak to me with him, also does not believe me. So there's another new little terrorist what has made us a target.

And yes, terrorist is the right word. Here's a common definition: "One who systematically utilizes violence and intimidation to achieve personal, religious or political objectives, while disguised as a civilian non-combatant." I think that
describes very well the situation we are finding ourselves in with these hooligans. And I know it will only escalate. The cars have been vandalized with scratches, broken antennas and mirrors. But it is only a matter of time before it gets worse. We lock our bicycles inside the garage, a luxury Jenn doesn't have. But when the girls have been riding outside and left their bikes on the playground, they have been stolen and ridden off right in front of them. The mother of one of the two boys responsible said "It was only a joke, he didn't mean anything." The other one wasn't home. He son was left to play on his own. What can you expect from children if this is how the parents are?

I am angry. I am frustrated. I feel helpless and isolated. My husband travels often and I have young children. I refuse to be so intimidated that I cannot leave my house. But at the same time, the doorbell ringing 6 times at 2 AM gets my heart beating fast and I can't get back to sleep. Firecrackers thrown under the car and in the trashcans make me stay alert to any night noises in the vicinity of my home. As much as I don't like to admit it, at times I am afraid.

We are getting a fence. I have told my husband we need to add the "Texas touch" to it and include barbed wire. I am only half-joking about this.

Pistol-Packin' Mimmaw...NOT!

2007-09-30T11:12:00.000+02:00

Now we all know that every good Soap Opera series has a gun storyline in it. So this week I thought I would oblige with a true story about my maternal grandmother! Don't know what Soap Opera I'm talking about. Well you just have to tune into 'Twas Brillig and Walking Kateastrophe to find out and read the other stories that make this sudsy game so much fun!

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The Panhandle Plains of Texas is a lonely country, even in this day and age. Nighttime photos from outerspace show very little light pollution, except along a couple of major highways. Daytime driving often means miles and miles with no other vehicle on the road.

In the Depression era, this part of the state was even emptier. Farms were large and spread out and required neighbours and hired help during work-intensive periods to get various jobs done. But in-between times the daily chores were ususally managed by one man and his wife and kids. Such was the case with my grandparents. My grandmother's day was full of the kinds of chores that women these days cannot even imagine. There was no telephone or television. And at that time they only had a generator to operate the water well pump and provide electricity. No microwave. No refrigerator! Not even a gas stove! Miss Ruby, as all the folks called her, did her canning and preserving and cooking on a wood-burning stove.

At some point during this time, my grandfather had to take the cotton harvest to be ginned (have the fibers removed from the seeds and husks) and sold. He would be gone for about a week. As the time for him to leave approached he became more nervous about leaving his wife and 2 young children alone on the farm. He'd heard news from neighboring farms about drifters passing through and stealing from these isolated homesteads. A loaded shotgun was always kept behind the door in case of "snakes and varmints" (four-legged as well as two-legged varieties). But Daddy Rob was going to be taking the shotgun with him on his trip, a necessary precaution as he would be carrying cash for selling the cotton crop.

Miss Ruby was not worried. She was very independent and had traveled many a road and spent many a night alone on the farm. But the day before he left Daddy Rob came home from a trip to town with a small pistol. And argument ensued. One of few between my grandparents (that we know about anyway). Miss Ruby was not having such a gun in her house. End of discussion. But Daddy Rob was insistent. He was trying to show her how safe it was and demonstrate how to shoot it. He emptied the bullets from the pistol chamber and then showed her how to stretch out her arm and lock her elbow to steady the gun. Miss Ruby was adamant. She was not having the gun in her house. But Daddy Rob persisted. "It's perfectly safe", he said, lowering his arm, "See",and he pulled the trigger to show her how easy it was to fire.

The gun went off. One round was still in the barrel. It left a small hole through the wooden floor of the kitchen. Miss Ruby did not say a word. Neither did Daddy Rob. He left the house with the pistol which was never seen again. His trip was uneventful as was Miss Ruby's week without him. The subject of a gun in the house never came up again.

But for the remainder of the time they lived in that house, Miss Ruby refused to let him fix the hole in the floor!

15 Possible Reasons Why Everything Seems to Be Going Wrong for So Many Of Us Lately...

2007-09-28T09:03:00.000+02:00

1. Scientists are admitting that a mysterious illness is the direct effect of a meteorite that hit a village in Peru last week. As there are hundreds of meteorites that enter the Earth's atmosphere every day, it may be that more of these are carry this "ET-flu". No wonder we seem to be suddenly struck "overnight" by something...

2. The standard kilogram weight that is the basis of the metric system is shrinking, and physicists have no explanation. But as science knows, matter cannot be created or destroyed, so if there are more things that are losing weight, it might explain why so many of us are unexplainably gaining weight. It has to be going somewhere....

3. Something is causing the Earth's rotation to slow down, so much so that an extra second was added to the clocks in 2005 and scientists predict that another second may be needed in the next year or so. Scientists do not know what is the cause of the Earth's slowdown, but if it is big enough to have such an effect on an object as large as the Earth, think of what kind of effect whatever it is it may be having on us lowly Earthlings...

4. At the latest reading, the carbon dioxide concentration in the global atmosphere is 381.91 parts per million, 1.6 ppm higher than this time last year and over 100 ppm higher than the pre-industrialization level. (Source: National Oceanic & Atmospheric Administration) Not even considering the increasing levels of pollutants in the air, and the local variations in urban areas where the levels are even higher, this is evidence that there is less pure oxygen for breathing. No wonder our brains don't seem to be working properly...

5. The World Health Organization has released research showing that " ...depression impairs the health state to a substantially greater degree than many other diseases...” including diabetes, arthritis, and other chronic illnesses. And since scientists have also shown that stress is a major contributor to depression, it is no wonder that Moms these days are suffering!

6. New studies show that "Exercise releases a bounce that bras cannot handle..." This was found to be true for flat-chested women as well as those who are well-endowed. And the excessive "mammary movement" causes not only short-term aches and pains but also long-term breakdown of breast tissue and be "...damaging to the limited natural support system." So now even exercising is bad for our health...

7. Two new research papers report that " ...men are happier than women." A lot of the difference has to do with job satisfaction and with the limitations that family and motherhood duties place on women's career choices, as well as the extra hours women put in to tasks involving running a household. I don't know of any woman who would be surprised by these findings.

8. New studies about learning and memory skills show that our brains work better in the evening than in the mornings. In fact, our brains abilities improve throughout the day. Now I have a scientific proof as to why I am not a morning person!

9. Forbes magazine blames our "bad feelings" on too much coverage of bad news which distorts the real picture. Okay, I'll go along with that. But where do we find the "good news" channel?

10. Meanwhile the UK's Guardian newspaper blames our collective depression on greed and jealousy. It seems that the media these days shows us how everyone else is living better than we are and we are therefore not satisfied with what we have. Not sure about this one, but I'm not yet rejecting it as a good excuse.

11. The European Union blames the current "collective depression" on a "spiritual deficit" within its boundaries. Along with other issues it talks about a "cultural identity crisis". While I don't fit into its specific criteria, I can definitely identify with many of the issues it talks about. Nothing like being an ex-pat married to an ex-pat from a different country with children who have no specific cultural identity...

12. A best-selling author has a new book out on Toxic Success. In his book he " ...identifies the major psychological syndrome of the modern era: fragmentation caused by too much electronic, video and computer stimulation." Yep, sounds like some of my problems. Does this mean I need to give up blogging?

13. From a medical perspective, there are more than 84 different types of sleep disorders, all of which can cause symptoms of depression, lethargy, malaise, etc. I think I have at least 6 of them...

14. An then there's the astronomical phenomenon that we are slowly approaching, Winter solstice. The fall Equinox where the days and nights are of equal length was passed on 23.September. From now until 22.December, the days get shorter and hours of darkness longer. The effects of this on the general population have been documented over centuries. "The depressive psychological effects of winter on individuals and societies for that matter, are for the most part tied to coldness, tiredness, malaise, and inactivity. Winter weather, plus being indoors causes negative ion deficiency which decreases serotonin levels resulting in depression and tiredness. Also, getting insufficient light in the short winter days increases the secretion of melatonin in the body, off balancing the circadian rhythm with longer sleep." Couldn't have said it better myself.

And finally, for those fellow Fibromyalgia sufferers...

15. New scientific research has confirmed that "Fibromyalgia sufferers do not respond to traditional painkillers". I've been saying that for a long time. Now there's proof.

No wonder I am having such trouble lately. I think I need to lie down now...!

If you want to visit other Friday Fifteen entries, check out this site!

A "Feel Better" Message

2007-09-24T19:51:00.000+02:00

This is a feel better message that will mean the most to those of us who make up the "Jenn-in -Holland" fan club. If you don't know her, she's to blame for my being in the blogging world. I don't think I would have found it without her.

Jenn is currently "under the weather", that's why she is not blogging at her usual rate. She'll tell you "it's just a cold", and it is probably nothing to worry about. But as Moms we all know that it never is "just" anything! Not with 3 kids and a job and a hubby (no matter how wonderful and self-sufficient he is). Our lives are full of multi-tasking and split second decision making and levels of stress and physical, mental and emotional demands that may be "low-level" on the cortisol (stress hormone) scale, but are constant and don't let up, even for illness.

And of course she will drag herself into work, because that's what we do. We get on with it, ignore ourselves and our bodies and give everything we've got. And she'll survive this. In fact she'll do great. She won't miss a deadline, she will meet her commitments, and she'll be there to cover for colleagues who can't just "get over it". Because she never does anything halfway.

She doesn't think of herself as "SuperMom". None of us do. Nonetheless we put super-human requirements on ourselves and we often do manage to "save the day". Jenn's like most of us. Doing the best she can, giving her all, kicking herself when she thinks she's slacking. I've been reading a lot of blog posts lately that show Moms doing the same thing to themselves.

So this is a "Feel Better" message to my dear friend, and to all of us who are stressed and suffering from the malaise that seems to have invaded the cosmos recently. I am working on a list of reasons as to why so many of us are so affected right now (check out the coming Friday 15!).

But for today, if you feel up to it, let your thoughts and good wishes go out to Jenn! And if you are not up to it, I give you the same advise I gave to her - "Take a walk. Get outside and notice the beginning of fall. Look at the leaves, the sky, smell the air. Give yourself a break!"

Back in June, before I started blogging, I was inspired by Jenn's poetry and left the following comment on her blog. You might have missed it as it was a later comment, so I put it here. Not the best in terms of poetry, but it does say a lot about how I feel about her.

My Friend Jenn...

My friend Jenn writes a blog that I could have authored, only she does it better.

My friend Jenn makes me smile, makes me groan, makes me laugh, makes me cry, sometimes all at the same time.

My friend Jenn makes me a better mother ‘cause she sets the bar so high but is honest about her failures.

My friend Jenn is a superstar, but also the best person you could ever have in the audience.

My friend Jenn awakens the green-eyed monster in me, and then feeds it homemade cookies.

My friend Jenn is so different in her background that I was scared to get to know her.

My friend Jenn is so similar in her spirit that she is the sister I never had.

My friend Jenn sees the beauty in the chaos, so she can come to my house anytime.

My friend Jenn makes me feel like such a good friend, I want to add it to my resumé.

My friend Jenn is only twenty-six, which is cool because I am only twenty-eight. Too bad our bodies are so confused about their ages.

My friend Jenn doesn’t really know how great she is, so I have to tell her sometimes. That’s not easy to do when your are as competitive as I am.

My friend Jenn lives too far away, I don’t get to see her everyday. But I do get to read about her life. A small compensation, but still fun.

My friend Jenn has so much energy she makes me tired watching her.

My friend Jenn makes me so proud that I can call her

My friend Jenn.

(Sat Jun 09, 11:07:00 AM 2007)

I hope you all are coming out from under the fog, as I am (slowly) and that we will all feel better soon. Especially you my friend!

Geek Humour

2007-09-22T18:56:00.000+02:00

Dear Tech Support,

Last year I upgraded from Boyfriend 5.0 to Husband 1.0 and noticed a distinct slow down in the overall system performance, particularly in the flower, gifts and jewelery applications that had operated flawlessly under Boyfriend 5.0. In addition, Husband 1.0 uninstalled many other valuable programs, such as Romance 9.5 and Personal Attention 6.5, but then installed undesirable programs such as Golf Clubs 4.1, NBA 3.0 and World Cup 2.0. And now Conversation 8.0 no longer runs and House Cleaning 2.6 simply crashes the system. I’ve tried running Nagging 5.3 to fix these problems, but to no avail. What can I do?

Signed,
Desperate Housewife

Reply:

Dear Desperate Housewife,

First keep in mind: Boyfriend 5.0 is an Entertainment Package, while Husband 1.0 is an Operating System. Try entering the command C:\ I THOUGHT YOU LOVED ME and download Tears 6.2. Don't forget to install the Guilt 3.0 update. If those applications all work as designed, Husband 1.0 should then automatically run the applications Jewelery 2.0 and Flowers 3.5. But remember, overuse can cause Husband 1.0 to default to Grumpy Silence 2.5, Happy Hour 7.0 or Late Night Beer 6.1. Late Night Beer 6.1 is a very bad program that will create SnoringLoudly.wav files.

Whatever you do, DO NOT install Mother-in-Law 1.0 (it runs a Virus in the background that will eventually seize control of all your system resources). Also do not attempt to reinstall another Boyfriend program. These are not supported applications and will crash Husband 1.0.

In summary, Husband 1.0 is a great program, but it does have a limited memory and cannot learn new applications quickly. You might consider additional software to improve memory and performance. I personally recommend Tasty Food 3.0 and Hot Lingerie 6.9.

Good Luck,

Tech Support

The Rain Must Fall...

2007-09-21T08:15:00.000+02:00

In the midst of my own haze of pain and struggle to get my sluggish mind and body moving, I am faced with a pre-teen crisis. I knew this was coming and that the homework tantrum from the previous week was only a preview. We now are in the midst of full-blown Middle-School Meltdown.

It is heartbreaking. And at the same time a necessary step on the way to adulthood and independence.

But it is not, and I believe never was for anyone, easy. Nevertheless, that offers no comfort to an almost 12-year-old who hates her body, despises the boys in her class which she labels "stupid", chafes at the various rules and responsibilities that are new and confusing, longs for independence and at the same time will not admit that she is a bit scared.

I watch as she frowns over her homework, knowing full well it takes a lot of energy and effort to "put a kink in the gray matter" (something I learned from a doctor-friend about how a brain develops). I hold her a minute longer when she gives me a good-night cuddle and after a moment's struggle to break free, she relents and settles into my arms for some respite.

I give what soothing advice and comfort I can, but I know it falls on deaf ears. All my Mommy-wisdom will not change how she feels. She is unique with her own problems and inner demons she must conquer alone. All I can offer and know it will matter is my love, my belief in her, my assurance that no matter what, she has a soft place to land on if/when she falls.

And then she is off, out of my presence and I am left with my prayers to whatever gods are listening that I am more than willing to accept more pain myself if it will ease some of hers.

If only it were that easy...

After posting this, I went and read my friend's blog and found that she too is on this same path. Her entry is so much more eloquent, I urge you to read it yourself. The pains we share as parents form such unspeakably wonderful and poignant connections.

The Blues - Colored Grey...

2007-09-17T15:37:00.001+02:00

There are times when my insides feel like the outside.

Usually this is a good thing when the weather is warm and sunny, or when spring brings its first gentle breezes as opposed to the bitter cold winds of fall an winter.

Today we are having one of our first real dreary fall days. The sky is grey. It isn't really raining hard, but it is just drizzling down so that everything is wet and the air is damp. And it's the kind of cold that catches you off guard, where your jacket is too thin, and you should have worn a scarf. It's just plain miserable weather.

And so are my spirits - grey, damp, gloomy, cold, miserable.

And the change in the weather has also accompanied a fibromyalgia flare. It isn't as bad as they can get, but I just feel yucky, like I'm coming down with the flu. But I know it's fibro rearing its ugly head because of the specific joint pains that I get. And I am so tired I can barely drag myself out of bed.

So I am lurking. Which suits how I feel. Ghostly, barely present, but not completely out of the picture. I enjoy reading all my blog-friends and love hearing from you, but right now I am feeling sorry for myself so I'm just hunkering down for a bit.

I will be back soon, and am trying to write about better times. Jenn-in-Holland is nagging me (again!) about blogging about my birthday. I will get even, however, by making her put in her 2-cents as well. And there are even pictures, which will make it an even more special blog (for me!).

So don't worry. And please don't forget me. I'm still here, but I'm probably in bed right now...

Short Chemistry lesson

2007-09-15T08:31:00.000+02:00

Three late-evening school meetings, a homework meltdown, general autumn malaise and a fibromyalgia flare have limited my time in the blogging sphere this week. But I could not miss out on Saturday Silliness! Don't be intimidated by the scientific bent of this story, it is still pretty easy to understand. Get all the terms down and impress your friends!

****************************************************************************
The following is an actual question given on a University of ILLINOIS chemistry mid term. The answer by one student was so "profound" that the professor shared it with colleagues, via the Internet, which is, of course, why we now have the pleasure of enjoying it as well :

Bonus Question: Is Hell exothermic (gives off heat) or endothermic (absorbs heat)?

Most of the students wrote proofs of their beliefs using Boyle's Law (gas cools when it expands and heats when it is compressed)or some variant.

One student, however, wrote the following:

"First, we need to know how the mass of Hell is changing in time. So we need to know the rate at which souls are moving into Hell and the rate at which they are leaving. I think that we can safely assume that once a soul gets to Hell, it will not leave. Therefore, no souls are leaving. As for how many souls are entering Hell, let's look at the different religions that exist in the world today.

Most of these religions state that if you are not a member of their religion, you will go to Hell. Since there is more than one of these religions and since people do not belong to more than one religion, we can project that all souls go to Hell. With birth and death rates as they are, we can expect the number of souls in Hell to increase exponentially. Now, we look at the rate of change of the volume in Hell because Boyle's Law states that in order for the temperature and pressure in Hell to stay the same, the volume of Hell has to expand proportionately as souls are added.

This gives two possibilities:

1. If Hell is expanding at a slower rate than the rate at which souls enter Hell, then the temperature and pressure in Hell will increase until all Hell breaks loose.

2. If Hell is expanding at a rate faster than the increase of souls in Hell, then the temperature and pressure will drop until Hell freezes over.

So which is it?

If we accept the postulate given to me by Teresa during my Freshman year that, "It will be a cold day in Hell before I sleep with you," and take into account the fact that I slept with her last night, then number two must be true, and thus I am sure that Hell is exothermic and has already frozen over. The corollary of this theory is that since Hell has frozen over, it follows that it is not accepting any more souls and is therefore, extinct......leaving only Heaven, thereby proving the existence of a divine being which explains why, last night, Teresa kept shouting 'Oh my God.' "

THIS STUDENT RECEIVED AN A+.

Happy Weekend!!

Drivin' 'Cross Texas

2007-09-10T08:38:00.000+02:00

Since I had a hot new car (see previous post) my Dad wanted to take a trip to visit his Mom and sister and her family. They lived in Texas as well, but if you know Texas, you know that it is the size of a medium size country (in fact, several small countries can fit inside it!). So from where we lived it was a good 8-hour drive. We set out early in the morning, making good time on the wide Texas highways. After a stop for lunch, I let my Dad take over driving. Now really, this car was a man's dream car. When you pushed down the accelerator, it responded and handled great speed with ease.

Unfortunately for my Dad, Texas is not Germany, and there are speed limits. So on a long stretch of road, where there are few cars and a fairly barren landscape, it is really easy to lose track of how fast you are going. Which he did. And of course there was a state trooper with nothing to do who happened to be parked under one of the few shade trees that were alongside the road. Dad did not see him in time, and knew that he had been caught speeding.

Sure enough, the trooper came up behind us and flashed his lights. Dad stopped and got out of the car to give the trooper his license (this was before the days before law enforcement was afraid of people getting out of their cars). He also needed the registration, and I got it out of the glove box and went to give it to him.

Now as we were traveling in Texas during a pretty warm late spring day, I was wearing shorts and a tank top. I had not received the nickname "Legs" in college without reason! The trooper asked me if it was my car and I said yes. He asked about the engine size and I gave him the specs. He joked with my Dad about how easy it was to speed in a car like that! I got back in the driver's seat while my Dad was still talking to the trooper.

The way my Dad tells it,"That trooper admired her. He admired the car. He was smilin' ear to ear. Musta made his day. And he still gave me a ticket!"

At least he did knock off some miles from his actual speed so the ticket was not so expensive.

Hot Wheels!

2007-09-09T10:19:00.000+02:00

Now you might not think that the experience of getting a new car is something that would not fall in the category of "Soap Opera Sunday". Ah dear readers, you would be mistaken. And after you have read through this drama, be sure and check out the other stories found in this weekly event sponsored by the lovely 'Twas Brillig and the ever charming Walking Kateastrophe.

I had recently moved back to Texas and was enjoying the financial freedom that came with my new professional career as an electronic engineer. Maybe it was the influence of all the testosterone that came from working in a primarily male environment. Maybe it was the effect of the California lifestyle. Or maybe it was just that I needed a flash car to go with my sexy status of single female professional. Whatever the influence, I decided I needed a new car, and by "new" I meant brand new. You see up to this point there was no one in my immediate family who had ever purchased a "brand new" vehicle. Yes we had bought cars that were new to us, but usually they were "gently used". And all the vehicles I had owned and driven were "less-than-gently used". I wanted something new. I wanted something fast. I wanted something hot. And I finally could actually afford it!

So I did my research (this was prior to the Internet). I poured over Consumer Reports. I searched through car magazines. I visited the new car exhibits at the Texas State Fair. And I fell in love. She was a Camero Berlinetta

And of course I had to go for the full sports package with spoiler, etc. Now you need to realise that a sports car does not count as a sports car if it is an automatic. Plus the automatics were not rated very highly in the consumer tests. I visited several different car lots and did not find the one I wanted or in the color I preferred. So I calculated what price I should have to pay, and went to the larger dealership in the area and ordered exactly what I wanted. A 5-speed, V-8, 5-liter, sports package in metallic beige with dark brown interior. I probably paid several hundred more than I should have, but it was a reasonable price and I did this all by myself. It would be about +6 weeks before I could pick up my new car, but I knew it would be worth the wait.

I enjoyed the build up by "talking shop" with the guys at work. When I described what I had ordered and pulled out the brochure, they were all impressed. Various options were compared and discussed, the merits of the Berlinetta vs. the Z-28, 4-liter vs. 5-liter, etc. In the end I received the grudging admiration and some little bit of envy from my colleagues. Finally the day came to pick up my car.

Up to this point I had been driving a loaner from my Dad. An automatic Ford station wagon that had seen better days. But it got me where I needed to be, if I remembered to keep adding a can of oil every 2 weeks. It had been about 8 years since I had driven a standard transmission, but I figured I would pick it up again quickly. I had even taken a test drive in a similar model and had done fine. So after receiving the call that my car was ready, I went by and picked up my brother and we drove to pick up my car. The plan was to pick up the Camero and both of us drive over to my Dad's to show off my new baby!

My brother accompanied me on the inspection of the car, pointing out a missing screw and a few minor details that were noted on the record for the first servicing. After signing the final papers, I was handed the keys and I drove my lovely new toy very carefully off the parking lot. The take-off was a little rough initially, but I got it in gear, though in truth it helped that the parking lot exit was an incline that allowed me to coast into first gear. My brother followed behind and we managed to make it through the downtown without even having to stop. I barely even got it out of third gear.

Just outside the city limit, I caught the first red light. It was long and therefore the car was at a complete stop before the light turned green. And as is to be expected, as I tried to engage the gear, the car stalled. I was not flustered and started the car and tried again. And again. And again. And again. And then the light changed. So we waited through the next red light and I tried very carefully again. The car jerked forward, and stalled. By this time the guy in the car behind my brother hit his horn and changed lanes and sped on by with various colorful descriptions of my driving style being uttered at the top of his voice. I tried again. And the light changed again. Once again it turned green and I very carefully got the car in gear and it moved about 3 feet before it died.

I looked in the rear view mirror and saw my brother in the car behind me, resting his forehead on the steering wheel and shaking his head. I got out of the car and handed him the keys...

Needless to say he left me in the dust as he worked the kinks out of my little speedwagon. My Dad never failed, whenever he was around someone who admired my car, to tell the story of the first ride home. Of course the fact that my legs were barely long enough to push the stupid clutch petal all the way to the floor to disengage the transmission before they got it corrected, and that it took three service visits requiring clutch adjustments before the gear engagement was considered optimal, are conveniently left out of the "typical woman driver" story!

Nonetheless, I did love that car. And she does feature in future SOS stories...!

Men...!

2007-09-08T00:21:00.000+02:00

Sorry but today I am generally irritated by those beings possessing the defective "X" chromosome. So since it's my blog...

Guy gets on a plane and finds himself seated next to a cute blonde. He
immediately turns to her and makes his move. "You know," he says,
"I've heard that flights will go quicker if you strike up a conversation
with your fellow passenger. So let's talk."

The blonde, who had just opened her book she had been looking
forward to reading on the plane, closes it slowly and says to the guy,
"What would you like to discuss?"

"Oh, I don't know," says the guy. "How about nuclear power?"

"OK," says the blonde. "That could be an interesting topic. But first
let me ask you a question. A horse, a cow, and a deer all eat the same
stuff--grass. Yet the deer excretes little pellets, the cow turns out a
flat patty, and the horse produces muffins of dried poop.
Why do you suppose that is?"

The guy is dumbfounded. Finally he replies, "I haven't the slightest idea."

"So tell me," says the blonde, "How is it that you feel qualified to
discuss nuclear power when you don't know shit?"

***********************************************************************

This was sent to me as a "public service message" for women to understand men better.

Because I'm a man, when I lock my keys in the car, I will
fiddle with a coat hanger long after hypothermia has set
in. Calling AAA (or road service equivalent) is not an option. I will win.

_________________________________________

Because I'm a man, when the car isn't running very well, I
will pop the hood and stare at the engine as if I know
what I'm looking at. If another man shows up, one of us
will say to the other, "I used to be able to fix these
things, but now with all these computers and everything, I
wouldn't know where to start." We will then drink a couple
of beers and break wind, as a form of holy communion.

_______________________________________________

Because I'm a man, when I catch a cold, I need someone to
bring me soup and take care of me while I lie in bed and
moan. You're a woman. You never get as sick as I do, so
for you, this is no problem.

_______________________________________________

Because I'm a man, when one of our appliances stops
working, I will insist on taking it apart, despite
evidence that this will just cost me twice as much once
the repair person gets here and has to put it back
together.

___________________________________________________

Because I'm a man, I must hold the television remote
control in my hand while I watch TV. If the thing has been
misplaced, I may miss a whole show looking for
it.....though one time I was able to survive by holding a
calculator.....(applies to engineers mainly).

_______________________________________________________

Because I'm a man, there is no need to ask me what I'm
thinking about. The true answer is always either sex,
cars, sex, sports or sex. I have to make up something else
when you ask, so don't ask.

_______________________________________________

Because I'm a man, I do not want to visit your mother, or
have your mother come visit us, or talk to her when she
calls, or think about her any more than I have to.
Whatever you got her for Mother's Day is okay; I don't
need to see it.

_______________________________________________

Because I'm a man, you don't have to ask me if I liked the
movie. Chances are, if you're crying at the end of it, I
didn't....and if you are feeling amorous
afterwards....then I will certainly at least remember the
name and recommend it to others.

_______________________________________________

Because I'm a man, I think what you're wearing is fine. I
thought what you were wearing five minutes ago was fine,
too. Either pair of shoes is fine. With the belt or
without it, looks fine. Your hair is fine. You look fine.
Can we just go now?

_______________________________________________

Because I'm a man, and this is, after all, the year 2007,
I will share equally in the housework. You just do the
laundry, the cooking, the cleaning, the vacuuming, and the
dishes, and I'll do the rest...... like wandering around
in the garden with a beer wondering what to do.

(deep sigh) Happy Weekend!

15 things I Say to My Daughters. Every. School Day

2007-09-07T08:01:00.000+02:00

Yes, school has now started here as well, and we seem to be back into the same old routine...

1. Good morning! Did you sleep well?

2. Can you please pick up the clothes you left piled on the chair/floor /bed?

3. Have you eaten your breakfast? Did you drink your milk?

4. Please put you dirty dishes in the sink!

5. Did you brush your teeth? Be sure and wipe you face, you have something around your mouth.

6. Is that what you are going to wear today? Is it clean?

7. Do you have all your books? Well, then get them and put them in your bag now!

8. Did you finish your homework? Do you have your homework in your bag?

9. Have you packed your lunch? Do you have your snack?

10. Did you put your drink in your bag? Is the lid closed tight?

11. Do you have your bike key?

12. Please take a jacket, it can rain later. And please brush your hair. Well then brush it again.

13. No you have to wear your bike helmet. I don't care that other kids are laughing. I want you safe. Even if it messes up your hair. Just tell them that your mean old mother makes you.

14. I love you. Be careful. Have a good day!

15. What did you forget now?

(sigh)

If you want to visit other Friday Fifteen entries, check out this site!

What Did You Learn...?

2007-09-03T16:51:00.000+02:00

Ah, back to school...and the inspiration to today's Monday Memories.

When I was first going to school, there was no kindergarten or pre-school program that made for an easy transition into the education system. My parents impressed upon me that I should pay attention and work hard. And when my Daddy arrived home that evening, he asked me "What did you learn in school today?" I did not have an answer for him, and did not realize that he was teasing me a little bit. But still he said, well, I want you to think about it and tell me tomorrow what you have learned.

So the next day I was trying to figure out just what I was supposed to be learning. But as it was a bit chaotic with everyone being assigned desks and materials and books and being tested on how much they can read and write, there were not real lessons. When my Daddy go home he first asked me about what we did. I told him about my desk and where I was sitting and the books I received. And then he asked me "What did you learn in school today?" I had to think a minute, but this time I had an answer," I learned how to stand in line!"

He laughed and laughed at my answer, he was so surprised. And this tale has been told through the years to all school age children in the family!

One Step at a Time...

2007-09-02T15:17:00.000+02:00

This is Part V of my series for Soap Opera Sunday (go to these links for Part I, Part II, Part III and Part IV). Thanks go to 'Twas Brillig and WalkingKateastrophe for the inspiration to set up such a great forum for blog writers to share their stories. You can find a variety of entertainment every Sunday when you check out their links!

Finally the end of the story. I'd love for it to be as dramatic and heroic as it deserves to be, but in truth I could not have done it any different at the time. There were many small steps and some big ones. And while it took several years to get to this point, getting out of it happened faster than I had imagined possible. That is why this portion of the story has so much detail and I don't consider it my best writing. But for me it is important to point out all the small steps that led to the conclusion. I truly believe there are others who are also stuck in problems that seem impossible to solve. But like any big project, it can be accomplished one step at a time...

********************************************************************************
I had to get away. ... But where to go? (The first step.)

While getting the cash that I had put aside, I noticed on the desk the recent bill from the department store where we had an account. Along with the bill was a flyer announcing their new travel department with special air fares. One caught my eye - Phoenix for only $79 round trip! A plan formulated in my head. I could go and see my Air Force buddy! I immediately got on the phone to him, but there was no answer. It was still late afternoon on a Thursday and he might not be home. So I called the number listed for the travel department and got a very friendly young woman who was happy to look up routes and give me the travel information I needed. Friday was a holiday and there were no flights then but there was a flight leaving that evening in 2 hours and the airport was only a half-hour away. And yes I could pay with credit card and pick up the tickets at the airport! The only problem was that the Sunday return flight was fully booked but I could return early Monday morning. I took a deep breath and booked the flight. I couldn't think any further than that. It just seemed the right thing to do. (The second step.)

So I followed my impulse, and got my things and got in the car to go to the airport. On the way, I started having doubts. My dad's apartment was on the way to the airport, and again, on impulse I drove by and saw his car there. I parked and went to see him. I told him I was going away for the weekend and that I was on my way to the airport. He offered to drive me so that I wouldn't have to pay any parking fees. I hadn't even thought about paying for the parking! I really did not plan anything! I thanked him and we got in the car and drove to the airport. On the way, my Dad asked a few questions, but he never brought up BF. I learned later that he could see the mark on my cheek where I had been hit and that was all he needed to know. At the airport, he said I could call him at work if I needed a ride home, and that if I could to let him hear from me during the weekend so he'd know I was okay. And he handed me $20. He called it "Emergency money." Tears welled up in my eyes but I could not give in to crying or I wouldn't make my flight. I picked up my tickets and got on the flight. (The next step.)

Once airborne, again I had time to start to think about what I was doing, and how crazy and impulsive it was. I was again on the verge of tears when the flight attendant came by with soft drinks. She must have noticed how upset I was because the next time she walked by she stopped and leaned over and handed me a bottle of white wine. She said it was left over from first class and would I like it. I thanked her and took it. I did not usually drink anything and since I had eaten little that day, the alcohol went straight to my head. I relaxed and felt suddenly at peace with myself, something that I had not felt for a long time.

In what seems like no time at all, we were arriving in Phoenix. I got my bag and went to a phone to call my friend. No answer. I thought I would give it some more time, but now really was becoming aware of what I had gotten myself in to. I went outside to enjoy the fresh air and sat on my suitcase a little ways from the entrance. Every 15 minutes I would go inside and try to call again. In between I would people watch. About a half hour after I had started this routine, another young woman came out carrying her suitcase and wiping her eyes. I watched her as she walked away and sat down on her suitcase on the other side of the door. The next time I made my phone call, she brought her case over to where I was with mine and asked if I would mind watching it while she made a phone call. I said not at all.

Over the next hour we exchanged stories of how we found ourselves stranded at the airport. Her long-distance boyfriend was supposed to be picking her up, but was by now almost 2 hours late. And she could not reach him (Remember, this is in the days before cell phones!) When her friend did show up a short while later, the sun was already going down, and I was starting to realize I needed to make other arrangements. The boyfriend kindly offered to drop me off, and I asked if he knew of a cheap hotel close to the airport. He said he did and I got in to go with them. My new acquaintance Cathy vetoed the first hotel when she saw the state of the pool (apparently a major indicator of quality in the western states!). The next one however was family friendly and so they helped me check in. It was even having a special 3-nights-for-the-price-of-2, which I went ahead and accepted. By this time I was really starting to doubt spontaneous decision to depart. The boyfriend, Bill, then insisted on taking us out to dinner and Cathy would not take no for an answer.

We went to a nice Italian restaurant and I was captivated by the interaction between Cathy and Bill. Cathy was really pissed at Bill for being so late. He in turn had a good excuse as he'd had a flat tire in the midst of a big traffic jab. Phoenix was undergoing a mass exodus of folks going away for the long weekend. And the spare for the sports car he drove was no suitable for the drive to and from the airport, so he had to stop and get the tire repaired and replaced before he could pick her up. He'd called the airport and had her paged, but she of course could not hear it while she was outside. Cathy was still pissed and raving at him, and Bill was understanding and gentle and let her go on without any angry reaction on his part. Eventually she calmed down and it was all good between them. I was amazed to see how well he understood her and how anger was just not something they let mess up their relationship. Watching them like this, I realized that this was something I was desperately missing in my life. I needed to be accepted as I was and not bullied and raged at. And I needed to be able to get angry and let off steam when I was frustrated without being fearful of the consequences. (Another step.)

They dropped me off at the hotel, giving me both their phone numbers and making me promise to call if I needed anything or was in Phoenix or Los Angeles (where Cathy lived) again. After making another phone call to my Air Force buddy (R), I went to my room. I closed the door and when I went into the bathroom I noticed myself in the mirror. This was the first time in possibly more than a week that I had really looked at myself. I was shocked at what I saw. Even making allowance for the horrible fluorescent lighting, there was no doubt I was in bad shape. My skin was pale and sallow, there was a dark bruise under one eye that spread down my cheek, my hair was limp, as was my posture. But worst of all, my eyes had a haunted look that made me almost not be able to even recognize myself. I was repelled and frightened by what I saw. I knew then, very clearly, and almost for the first time, something had to change. (A big step!)

Falling asleep that night, I realized that this would be the first time since my car accident that I had really been by myself. The next morning it hit me very clearly in the form of a small panic attack. I was alone. No one really knew where I was. I was in a strange bed in a strange city and had just spent a night by myself. This was something I had not done for 3-and-a-half years! But just as the panic started to rise and threaten to take over all my thoughts, a voice in my head said "So?" And I stopped. I realized that I had survived the night, that I still knew who I was and where I was, and that it did not matter if anyone else knew because I did. (Another big step!)

And then the tears came. I spent the day on an emotional rollercoaster. At one point I called BF who then raged at me, demanding to know where I was and that I come home immediately. I told him that things between us had to change and that I would come back when I felt I could trust him not to hurt me again. (A very big step!) He was even more furious and started to threaten and scream even more. I hung up and did not call back. I called my Dad to let him know I was okay and said I would call again when I was coming home. And then I went out to sit beside the pool and did not talk to anyone for the rest of the day.

Changes were taking place that I almost could not cope with. While it felt good to be quiet and alone, something I had not realized how much I had missed, it was also very scary. I don't really know why, but probably some of the leftover memories of getting lost right after my accident had something to do with it. But slowly through the day I felt better. Again I think the brain cannot really handle being afraid and being brave at the same time. It had to choose one course of action, and this time I chose to be brave. When I had really made that choice consciously, then from that point on I wasn't afraid again. And ever since, I have rarely been afraid of anything (except spiders!).

I took a walk and ended up being out for hours, almost getting lost. But it didn't worry or scare me this time. I reveled in the beauty of the desert city I had never seen before, marveled at the glorious sunset, and was enormously pleased that I was able to find my way back to the hotel by watching the planes landing at the airport! Another call to R still went unanswered. I spent another night alone, and slept in perfect peace. (A small step.)

Saturday came and went without my speaking to another soul. I had bought a novel that I read without really engaging my brain. I lounged by the pool, took a nap, took another walk, watched TV, and then took another walk out into the dark desert to see the stars. I must have been there for hours as I was quite cold when I finally came back. I went to bed without even trying to reach R. (A small step.)

I spent Sunday again with some emotional ups and downs. There is something to be said for being trapped with yourself for a period of time that you can't alter. There was no going back that day for me, even though at times I had in mind to do so and accept whatever BF chose to do to me. But by the time the sun started to set, I was calm and determined and not about to go back to how things were. (Another step.)

What is important to say here is that while was not going to accept the way things had been, I had not decided to walk away from BF or my marriage. These were small steps towards independence. If anyone had told me that in taking them I was asking for a divorce, I might not have made them. I could not think that far ahead. I could only deal with the present. It's an important distinction because fear of the future is what traps so many women in bad relationships. And if I had looked down the road at my own long-term future, it would not have been a path I could have followed at the time. Instead I was looking at just what was ahead and around the next corner and no further. Just like on horses, these emotional blinders kept me on the path and unafraid. I sometimes think that counselors at women's shelters fail to realize how important it is to focus on the small steps and let the big ones come of their own accord.

At around 8 PM, I made one more call to try and reach R. I realize now how the Fates were looking out for me in so many ways. His news came as a shock. He had been away in Las Vegas with an old friend of ours who was now also living near Phoenix - my ex-boyfriend (X). They had just returned and were surprised and thrilled to know I was in town. Because I was leaving the next morning, they decided to come over right away and get me. When I hung up the phone I was stunned.

I had not thought about X since the day before my wedding when I had to throw all his letters and memorabilia in the trash. I had not heard from him or known how to get in touch. R had mentioned something about it when I first talked to him, but I didn't have any information and did not think about it any further. In 20 minutes they were both there in front of me and all the emotions and silliness of our high-school days came flooding back. We went to X's apartment and drank wine and talked late into the night. X had to work the next day so he went to bed. R and I stayed up and talked further and he probed gently about my home situation. I wasn't ready to talk about it, so he let it rest. However, he had the next day off and convinced me to call the airline and see if I could get my flight changed. Thank goodness for 24-hr. customer service at airlines! It was possible for no extra charge, and so I postponed my return until Tuesday afternoon. (Another step!)

I slept on the couch, R in a sleeping bag on the floor (tough Air Force soldier!). We got up with X before he left and had breakfast together. X was very pleased I was staying over another night, and when I didn't notice had a quiet word with R to arrange to be alone with me that evening. I spent the rest of the day with R, touring around Phoenix, visiting the base where he was stationed, talking about flying and his career plans, and finally what I was going to do. I said I wanted to finish my degree, especially as I was getting so close to finishing, but after that I had not thought about anything. R would not accept this. He started lecturing me as only a close friend can. And by the end of the day he had helped me to figure out how to pick up my old dream of becoming an astronaut. (Another big step!) When we met up with X later that day, R then said he had to take off, but would call me before I left for the airport.

Suddenly I was alone with X, and while everything had been easy and comfortable when R was around, I was now nervous. We went out to dinner and when we came back we went for a walk. It took a while of small talk and awkward silences, but finally X blurted out that he had never stopped loving me and wanted to know how I felt about him. I guess knew on some level this was coming, but still I did not know what to say. I had talked the previous evening about the car accident, but I had not really gone into the memory loss or how it had affected me. When we got back to his apartment, I told him the rest of the story, outlining what I have told in this blog. I left out the abuse, but he could pick up on some of it from what I said and how I acted. And then he took me in his arms and said something that I held onto for many years. "I can wait." He kissed me gently and held me for a long while. (Someone took a step, but I'm not sure it was me!) Then he went to bed, and I lay on the couch thinking through everything that had happened over the last 24 hours. I don't remember sleeping, but morning came quickly.

While he went to work, I pack my suitcase and wrote notes to him and to R. He came back at lunch to take me to the airport, dropping me off as he had to get to work. I still had time before my flight and I talked to my Dad and tried to reach R, but there was no answer. I sat reading a magazine and looked up when my name was called. R arrived to see me off! He gave me a big hug and then looked into my eyes and said, "I know you're not ready now, but when you are, X is not the only one who loves you." He kissed me with a passion that showed me how serious he was. They called my flight before the shock had worn off! (Another step I was not sure I had taken!)

Wow! What a lot I had to think about on the flight home. But what I really had come back with was the courage to face BF and know that whatever happened, I was going to be okay. (Another big step).

What happened next was almost a blur it happened so fast. When I got back home, BF did not want to talk, but I insisted. I said that things had to change, and he agreed. He then told me since I had left him, that I should be the one to move out. I did not even realize I had left him, but in his mind I had. So I got more of my things, and went to my Mom's. As it was summer I was able to find an apartment near the school campus. I had already applied for a school loan and this came through in time for the Summer semester. I was able to get another job on campus and still work some part-time assignments at my office job.

BF filed for divorce and by August it was final. He was out of my life and after one last meeting to sign the papers I have never seen or spoken to him again. I don't know where he is. I haven't looked. I don't want to know.

I think this qualifies as the end to this story! But dear readers, there are more SOS stories to come, fortunately not as tragic, but still full of drama! Such is the life I lead...

Beauty is in the Ear of the Listener

2007-09-01T08:52:00.000+02:00

A German, an Italian, a Spaniard, a Frenchman and an American were at a meeting together and during the break they decided to enjoy the lovely summer weather in a local outdoor cafe. As they sat drinking their wine and beer, a butterfly landed on the table where they were sitting.

They all were still for a moment, observing it, when the Frenchman was suddenly inspired. "Ze French language, she is so poeteek! We call zis delicate creature 'Papillion'! (pronounced pa-pi-on). Is eet not a wonderful name?"

His companions agreed that indeed this was a beautiful word for the insect. They all toasted "Papillion!"

The Spaniard, not to be outdone, said, "De Spanish language is also very descreepteeve. We say 'Mariposa' which is also a very bootiful word." And of course this was received and praised and toasted by all present.

And the Italian, in some false modesty, admitted that while his language was also very beautiful, the word "Farfalla" did not quite do justice to the loveliness of the being currently gracing their table. His companions were quick to disagree and another round of drinks was bought to toast this lovely language.

The American, knowing that English did not have the same poetry compared to the other names, defended the sound of "Butterfly" that while nonsensical in translation, still managed to roll off the tongue and was a fitting tribute to this wondrous masterpiece of Mother Nature. And his companions agreed and they all tried out their new words "Butterfly, Mariposa, Papillion, Farfalla" and with every utterance the others cheered and toasted and drank their beers.

Their German companion, however, had become increasingly silent during this discussion. When they all slowly noticed this, they became quiet and drank their beers with introspection. Finally, the German slammed his drink down on the table and asked " Und vat is wrong vit SCHMETTERLING ?!"

I laugh every time I read/hear/think of this joke. My husband has never been able to get it! And I think that's even funnier!

15 Links to Help Change the World

2007-08-31T10:33:00.000+02:00

One of my favorite bloggers is a bit frustrated with the world she is currently dealing with and complained about the lack of sites where she can read about people who are trying to improve the world. I have a number of sites that I visit that do talk about efforts to help the world that I will be writing about in a future blog. But for this week's Friday Fifteen, I thought I would share with you some sites where YOU can make a difference.

For my last "round" birthday, I requested and received a number of donation gifts that made me feel I was "giving back" to the world. And at my girls' school they also have various donation drives where they give to charities, but in a specific, visible fashion. I include these sites here, along with others that have similar aims. Almost all of these sites also include a gift card (some via email) or a newsletter, poster or some other small token that you can send to the gift recipient.

So here is my list of links that allow you to help make the world a better place, one gift at a time...

1. Trees for the Future This is a great gift for a class or school, or for anyone concerned about the environment. As part of the funds that the PTA gets from the recycling of old paper, we go the next step and actually purchase trees. The last time we raised over $100 we were able to purchase a forest! Along with the certificate, the recipient gets regular newsletters and materials that can be used in class for a lesson on reforestation projects. This is also a great site to use as a resource for school reports.

2. Care for the Wild International I have not yet found an equivalent site in the US, but this UK site also will send materials and gift certificates to the US for a slight charge. What I love about this site is that you can choose the animals that you want to "adopt". DD1 is really into dolphins and fierce animals, while DD2 is more into the cuddly -looking favorites. And don't forget rhinos and elephants!. Don't forget to figure that you must convert from British pounds to US Dollars, or you may end up spending more than you planned.

3. Oxfam International Located in a large number of countries in the world, this is a fantastic site for families. Not only do they have donation gifts at every level for almost any occasion, but their sites are full of information about various projects all over the world. Great resource for school projects as well as a fantastic gift site. I received a number of presents from here for my last birthday (chickens, a can a worms, a goat, ...)! Check out their "Unwrapped" section!

4. Project Concern International Focused on prevention of disease, famine and clean water, this site has a number of different projects that might speak to a family's special interests. Check out their "Gifts of Life" Catalogue.

5. Changing the Present Especially for those interested in agriculture and education projects with values from $10 to $150. This site also has information about the tax deductions you can get with your donation.

6. International Child Care As the name implies, this site is focused on projects for children. It even shows how $0.25 can help to feed a child. Great use of children's allowances where they want to make their own contributions.

7. Educate the Children Focused on the women and children of Nepal, this is a great choice for a family that wants to put its focus on a specific country.

8. Heifer International You might have heard about this site on the Oprah show. It involves the gift of a calf or goat (or other livestock) that allows a family to feed itself.

9. Universal Giving Focused on education, you can donate a school, computers, education for one child etc. gifts start at $10.00.

10. Carbonfund Want to offset the carbon impact of a party, wedding or event? Or even just ease your conscience and offset your own carbon footprint? This site allows you to calculate your impact and to contribute to a fund used to plant trees and other activities to compensate for carbon output. Great was to educte kids about our environmental impact.

11. Humane Society Want something closer to home? This site is for the Franklin Humane Society in Michigan. It has a number of different gifts that allow for the care and feeding of animals at the shelter. But I'm sure your local shelter has some similar kind of set-up, even if it isn't online. Even if you can't care for a pet in your home, you can still show your love of animals in this kind of donation.

12. Global Giving This site has a number of different projects and allows for selection by region, topic, project, or donation level. Great variety of projects and levels to choose from.

13. Alternative Gifts International Want to see what you can get for the price of a take-out meal or a pedicure? A great variety of projects with cost comparisons that bring the message to heart.

14. Network for Good Similar to many of the other sites, but with "gift baskets" associated with specific projects including familiar charities such as Habitat for Humanity, Red Cross, etc.

15. One World is Enough And if you really want to give a gift that someone can hold in their hands, these fair trade gifts ensure that a good portion of the sales price goes to the craftsperson. Some great ethnic clothing gifts!

Happy Weekend!!

If you want to visit other Friday Fifteen entries, check out this site!

A Day at the Beach

2007-08-30T09:54:00.000+02:00

I look up from my magazine and scan the the waters near the beach for my girls. I spot them jumping in the waves, chest-deep in the ocean. The waves have carried them further down the shore so that it stretches at my heartstrings to have them so far away. I watch them at play, wondering that they can stand the cold North Sea waters. I remember splashing and playing just as they do, but then it was the warm Texas Gulf. I could not bring myself to join them today, barely getting my feet wet before running out of the cold waters. But they were born in this country and this is their "native shore". I consider going down to call them back closer to me when DD1 looks over at me and sees me watching. She waves her arm at me and I wave back. DD2 looks up as well and cannot see me from this distance. DD1 points and she too waves and I wave back. The tension on the heartstrings eases and I give them their freedom.

A short while later they decide to come back. I watch them, seeing them from a distance as I don't when they are close by. DD2's legs are almost as long as her sister's despite their two-and-a-half years age difference. And DD1's legs are almost as long as mine! Her figure is starting to develop and I am shocked to notice once again just how lovely she is. They are growing up so fast. Suddenly a wave a panic washes over my heart and grabs me by the throat. I realize in only a few years, I will not be able to watch them when they come to the shore or go out with friends. Then there will be boys and smoking and drugs and... No. I stop myself. I can't worry about those things now.

As they come towards me I pick up their towels to hand to them to dry off. But no, they don't want the towels. The both throw themselves down on the warm sand and roll around in it like puppies until they are covered. They proceed to play "sand monster" and take turns burying each other in mounds of sand, then rising up and chasing around. I admonish them that they will not only have to rinse off before they get back in the car, but that they will have to rinse off outside at home before they can come in and bathe!

And then I sigh with relief and think to myself "There's still time."

The "Perfect" Aphrodisiac

2007-08-27T10:34:00.000+02:00

Nod to Soccer Mom in Denial whose SOS inspired this Monday Memory!

My husband is German-Italian. I like to think I got the best of both worlds (and I really do at times!) This means he loves food by definition, and of course Italian food is very high on his list. So, shortly after we were married, I decided to try out my Mother's recipe for Italian Spaghetti Bolognese (tomato meat) sauce. As she learned it from an Italian lady when she was living in Baltimore, I was pretty assured it would be authentic enough to be a big hit. So I spent the afternoon chopping up fresh ingredients.

I was feeling pretty confident shortly after I started cooking as the delicious smells had my new husband coming up from behind me while I was cooking to nibble on my neck and steal something from the cutting board. Midway through the preparations, my Daddy called and I bragged to him that I thought I had found the perfect aphrodisiac to use on DH!

Dinner was a great success! Wine and candlelight set the atmosphere, a lovely fresh salad and loaf of French bread the accompaniments. DH ate two very large helpings of spaghetti slathered in my sauce. He raved about it. He kissed me lavishly as he helped to clear the table, and I promised to meet him on the couch as I finished putting the food away. I was terribly pleased with myself. My Mom's recipe was now my own and it appeared to be living up to its earlier promise!

I finished up quickly in the kitchen, slipped into the bedroom to put a little more cologne behind my ears. And went to the living room to join my lover on the couch.

He was sound asleep. With a very satisfied smile. No amount of nuzzling could wake him up or arouse him in any way. I had to finally resort to a hard shake and a very loud voice. He woke up enough to give me a big hug, thank me for a lovely dinner, and head off to bed. I quickly joined him with my hopes still not completely dashed, but he was snoring before I finished getting undressed!

Throughout our 19 years of marriage, this recipe has been one of his favorites and it has had the same effect. Every. Time...