New Years out here

So, what do you do for New Years if 1) you live in a rural part of the Netherlands, 2) you cannot drink yourself stupid unless you stay home. Clearly, the correct answer is loads and loads of fireworks. They are legal from 10am tomorrow to early New Years day. Though, most of the neighborhood has been getting practice in the last two days or so.

I pick ours up tomorrow. We'll have some friends over. Any alcohol party for us is by necessity a slumber party, so we can only invite over as many people as can spend the night in our house comfortably. And, since we aren't 15 any more, we don't count an air mattress as comfort. So, if you weren't invited, it was because we ran out of bunk space -- not because we don't want to see you here!!!!

Happy New Years!!!

Christmas in the Netherlands

As my loyal readers know, I am Jewish. But, just as Christmas is a national holiday in the US, it is more so here. Starting in early December. It seems to be ramping up and up (without the carols, though with the pop songs)...then 25 December comes, and we don't really see much. No caroling. The place is shut down.

We celebrated with lots of cheer at the squadron, feeding those that were working and those who didn't have another place to be for the holiday. It was amazing good fun to cook with my friends in the gigantic squadron kitchen. Eric fried a turkey (that is becoming his specialty). I made gravy and lots of noise. Eileen spent most of the day in my sling as I wandered and danced around. She explored long enough to clean the floors and dirty her outfit.

The second day of Christmas is celebrated here, so we are just now thinking about wandering off to town to recycle diapers and buy knitting supplies (not that Eileen knits yet).

Bad Mother? I think not

For those of you who have missed the series on Eileen and me and the swimming pool, let's just recap: Eileen takes lessons. These are usually the highlight of my week. We have 45 minutes of concerted play time just the two of us, where I am not trying to clean or plan a meal, or pet a cat. Just her and me in the water. We did photos there. Anyway, last Friday was graduation. We didn't make it. Eileen was sleeping. I was sleeping. The day was going to be a long one, since it was the evening of the Volkel AFB Officer's Christmas Ball. So, those of you looking for a diploma for Eileen, you'll just have to wait until we take the same class next semester and graduate from it then! -- YES, there was supposed to be a diploma for her.

Oh, and the ball was gorgeous. It was inside what looked like a 16th or 17th century (no longer used) cathedral. Flying buttresses, wall paintings, an organ...and it is now a site for formal events. Candles burning overhead. A wonderful dinner. Dancing. Yes, I danced with someone not my husband (and of course with my husband, too). And Eileen was staying nearby (within an easy walk), at a hotel, with some of the world's best and most accommodating baby sitters.

Posts seem to be slowing down

It is time to admit what all bloggers eventually admit. I am certainly capable of going full force, but this is not my highest priority and with every day longer that I am here in the Netherlands, less seems to feel alien to me.

Eileen is becoming more and more sure on her feet. I am spending my days chasing my darling daughter.

That said, the kids holiday party, flower arranging, and Christmas cookie exchange were all great fun and with me having an In with Santa this year (look closely at the photo -- do you see a familial resemblance between Santa and Eileen?). I spent the kids' party doing a bunch of Origami with lots of wonderful kids, but it looked like a ton of fun for the kids. And, of course, I wished that I had a chance to put down the paper and go ask Santa for a gift too. And then today he handed me a stack of Sondheim sheet music!!!! So, I guess this has really been an exciting season for us.

I will still try to blog at least weekly, since things still surprise me here.

Baby Steps

Some of you have heard already, we have a baby stepping out. She can take about 4-5 steps before deciding that crawling is easier. Thanks to my friends Dana and Meredith who were over when this happened (okay, Dana made it happen :-)) last Thursday. Now, family knows, so the whole world wide web can know. YEAH Eileen! Let's see where those little feet take you (Sarah: don't worry, her feet are still a normal size for her height). The current key is that she needs to have a couple of things to move from here to there, so that she can't just put it in her mouth and crawl (which is much faster than her little steps).

Oh, and for those who worried about the sleep with us here, we have had 7 consecutive nights where she slept more than 7 hours at a stretch. Does anyone know how to prevent more teeth from coming in and bothering her sleep? (Just kidding).

Tis the Season

This will be mostly a military wife post. Last Saturday night was the squadron Christmas party. This was a catered affair with buffet and drinks that were covered with the ticket price. We had a lovely time. But had to go home to a sniffly baby who was with a sitter for her first time!!! (Yes, it took 10 months to see my husband without a baby nearby -- for those of you counting...where were the wonderful Altman girls when I needed them).

Tomorrow night is a cookie exchange and then we will be having the kids Christmas party on Sunday.

The following Friday is the Dutch Christmas party.

Which is great. I am happy to participate and to help where I can. I am having a wonderful time.

That said, I am reminded of my friends over the years who have all said that we should give gifts when we want to give gifts, not on a specific calendar day.So, after months of very little role as military wife, suddenly I am very busy. Again, not complaining (actually, enjoying...truly!) so much as thinking aloud that it would be fun to have an occasion beyond Christmas for getting together with my friends from the military side of life...perhaps Arbor Day or even the fourth of July!

Dining out

The local event of the season is the Squadron Christmas party. That happened on Saturday night. For those of you who are wondering, it was Eileen's first time with a baby sitter. A smashing success...So much so that we will do that again when we go to our Dutch friend's Christmas party.

We ate, drank, were merry...and did it in a very Dutch way: lot's of smoked fish and lots of heavy meats, not too much in the veggie world, but killer potatoes. And, as in our past catered experience, the drinks (which are usually meager) kept flowing. My water glass overfloweth.

We made up for that tonight at the Thai restaurant in town with our friends the Eulers. Shelby and I did Origami and we all had yummy food. Then we came home.

Memo to all those reading this: jet lag is hard on babies...but we are finally through it.

Do I love living here more than in America

Hello all;
I am back from the grandparent-a-looza tour 2008 with Eileen. We had a splendid time. But, time and again the question was turned to me: did I like living in the Netherlands more than in the US. I must say that I treat this question the same way my husband treats the "do I look fat in this" question: gingerly!

The truth is that there are some things that I love here. I love that we leave the back door open to visitors and neighbors when we are home and awake. I love that there are horses and cows and chickens and goats and a petting farm all on my usual walk with Eileen. I will admit that at least some of those things could be had in any rural location -- even in the states. I love the opportunity to learn a new culture (again, if I moved to the right location in the US, I might have that opportunity). I love that the bathrooms are usually clean here. I love that people are pretty hard working. I love that coffee is the national libation of choice (though of course miss having decaf as an option...Eileen stays awake when I imbibe too much real coffee). I love that the fritte are better on average than in the states and that they are a side dish with even pasta meals (yes, I am still a carb addict). I love that it is vividly green here, even on days with snow. I love the bicycles and the flatness. I love that my neighbors respond to questions with "it's no problem..." and really mean it.

I am not quite sold on the idea that groceries are closed on Sundays. I am equally uncomfortable with the fact that at least one of the people who asked the question was unable to wear his kippa (Jewish skull cap) in public without a baseball cap to cover it because of local anti-Semitism.

I had promised some further asides to the "You know you are an American living in the Netherlands if..." post:

you keep looking for good chocolate based on the idea that the Dutch learned to process cocoa. (Good chocolate is born in Vienna or Belgium)

you are surprised that the best beers are either 1) imported from Belgium or 2) available in the US (Hoegarten, Groelsch, Heineken (okay, so at least one of those is the Bud of the Netherlands)).

you think that bottomless drinks would be a revolutionary option here (where drinks are about 2 Euro and about .2 Liters in size).

An American in Europe at the Holidays

As many of you know, Eric and I have access to a commissary. It is conveniently located only about 1.5 hours away from our house (okay, so I am using my New Mexico definition of convenient location). There we can almost pretend that we are not in a foreign country. We can buy the tastes of home - like canned pumpkin. Strangely, lots of pumpkin are grown here. You can even buy them at the grocery, but only fresh.

Now, maybe I haven't explained that the Dutch prepare a bunch of things up front. The luncheon meat is presliced and packaged when you arrive (no asking for special thickness or amounts). The vegetable mix for the stir fry is cut to the right size -- except the hot pepper that they let you cut for your taste -- or potatoes that are right for boiling or frying are pealed and appropriately cut or sliced. There are soup mixes of veggies that are preselected and cut for you. They also have bagged salads of various sorts. The meat comes pre-seasoned and ready to be cooked. In fact, it took me a while to find raw ingredients that were not pre-packaged and sliced, so that I could cook in my own way.

That said, their canned goods seem limited to the exotic (coconut milk, green curry paste, bamboo shoots, etc.), the pickled, and the fruit varieties. They do have some canned veggies, but they look dusty on the shelves where I shop. Most people get either fresh or frozen. They don't have canned pumpkin.

In fact, the reason I started with the commissary in this post is that we are likely to have at least one more trip down there for 1) cheap(er) frozen meats (okay, more like poultry, knowing me) in bulk, 2) canned foods: tomatoes, pumpkin, chicken broth and possibly treats for the cat, chocolate chips,...

what do you do with a visitor

My friend Carolynn is visiting. So, between naps, we have managed to wander through Den Bosch, visit the local windmill, and go to Uden.

So, I am sure we could have gone to Amsterdam. We could have gone to Eindhoven.

We could have taken a canal tour or seen museums.

Instead, we visit and drink tea.

I promise not to trap you in the baby centered world if you visit...but it is my lowest energy point.

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In other news, I see a lot of horses around here. I have been wondering what type of horse I am. I am not a Clydesdale,nor Belgian. I am clearly not a quarter horse, since my legs are not the right length. I guess, I am looking for suggestions as to what kind of horse I could be (please, I am not a pony).

The Joy of Sippy Cup

It was a drastic wake-up call today when I emptied Eileen's sippy cup of milk yet again. It tasted bad yet again. Turns out that it wasn't the milk; I have a dippy-sippy-cup. The liquid restraining device that keeps the upended cup from creating a Jackson Pollack of grape juice or other beverage on the floor is almost completely uncleanable. I boiled it was vinegar and will reserve that cup for only water from now on....Happily I have a different cup that had water in it, but is easier to clean. It has now graduated to being her milk cup.

Meanwhile, if the pickings get meager on this blog for a couple of weeks, I beg forgiveness. My friend Carolynn from White Rock NM is coming for a couple of days on Thursday. Following her visit, we will be packing for our own upcoming US adventure. Eileen and I leave a week from this coming Sunday for the US. We are getting to see the Balkin family, the Hirsch family (although I might be missing one or two cousins and of course my brother, his wife, and Eileen's cousin Isaac). Then we fly off to Boise to see Eileen's sister, Tia, Grandma Joanne, Aunt Sandy and Uncle Dax, and cousins Cortni, Carissa, and Camden. We will miss the rest of the Jacksons, but recognize how far flung they are.

Choices

My ex-husband, Anders, always talked about how many choices you had in American restaurants. Do you want a salad? What type of dressing? You get a choice of side... And, he is right, in Europe, you order your meal and it comes as it comes. Sometimes exactly as described, sometimes with a small salad or other side dish, but you certainly are not asked if you want it. He used to complain that there are really too many choices in America.

I have begun to believe that Europeans make up for those choices in their appliance options. I think our microwave has more than eight modes to it, for example, and that doesn't count just manually lowering the power output on it. Our washer dial makes roulette look simple. I think that there are about 16 choices there, different temperatures, etc. and again, that doesn't count an extra rinse or a pre-wash cycle or the ability to change the rate of the spin cycle. For reference, our top end washer that is in storage back home had about eight settings -- as I recall.

The funniest bit of all this, is that every European I have met swears by how wonderful their appliances are (our washer does get clothes really clean during its two hour cycles), but most of them talk about only using one setting. So, for most of my European friends, these are faux options anyway.

Ah well...just a strange observation!

A Bike Seat for Eileen

Yesterday I used the local equivalent of Craig's List (http://Marktplaats.nl) and my meager Dutch to purchase a used bike seat for Eileen to use on the front of the bike. Now, as soon as we have a helmet that doesn't fall from her head, she and I will look even more Dutch than we did before.

Today I have the bike seat. Sold by a woman less than 5 km from my house for less than half the price of a new seat. This is hardly used. I promise to add a picture to this post in the not too distant future.

She even was kind enough to speak English to me when I sent an e-mail explaining that I spoke virtually no Dutch. I am so proud of actually managing to function in society (sort of).

The Phone Company

We have voicemail that comes with our home phone. Not surprisingly, we haven't been able to access it due to the fact that we don't speak Dutch, and it doesn't speak anything else.

The phone company was only recently (in the last 5 years) made to cede its monopoly status. But, we use the national company anyway, much like we might have used AT&T in the States.

Like AT&T, KPN (as it is known) has a cell phone component, complete with cell phone stores. I spent Saturday night searching web sites trying to find out how to set up our voicemail and was surprised to discover a set of key strokes for setting up the cell phone mailbox that turned the instructions to English. Didn't work for the home phone.

Dutifully, Monday Eileen and I trekked over to the KPN mobile store to ask for help with our voicemail. A kind young employee told me that of course there was no English for the voicemail on our home phone - KPN is the national Netherlands phone company. When I pointed out that there as on the cell phone, he responded that home phone is a utility.

Funny distinction, since the instructions and everything else should be the same - isn't voicemail voicemail?

When I called Eric to report my findings, he said that it would be much the same in a Verizon store if we wanted the instructions in Hungarian. I pointed out that Spanish was the English equivalent in the States (second most prevalent language, necessary for at least some business, etc.) and that in fact, most phone companies published a handy guide in Spanish.

The difference between be a European Tourist and Living Here

I think that Eric and I came to the Netherlands with some preconceived notions. It is time to admit them. I will admit Eric's first, because it is both funnier to me and of course not my own notion. Eric was surprised at the number of tall, old trees here. I know that part of this came from the idea that the Europeans deforested their continent to build and to keep warm in their past, part comes from how densely populated at least the Netherlands are, and part of it comes from how often wars have been fought in this area in the recent past. Anyway, we got here and he was surprised to be driving through old growth forest not far from our bed and breakfast.

My preconceived notions stem from having come to Europe as a tourist who was staying with family when married before. It felt like I wasn't a tourist, because I was in their homes. It turns out that Europeans, like people everywhere, spend their weekends catching up on laundry, mowing the yard, cleaning the gutters, working on the car. Most do not spend every free waking moment traveling to distant cities to see the sights. I know, you guys are all shocked that I am not jetting off to Barcelona this week, Paris next, and sticking closer to home in Luxembourg the week after. Instead, we might get as far as Amsterdam or Den Bosch...and we might have clean laundry.

Other preconceived notions that have bit the dust: Europeans are more concerned about energy efficiency than their American counterparts; that a VW Beetle or other small car cannot haul a huge camper or horse trailer with a horse; that riding a horse means that your feet cannot touch the ground (they have some tiny horses here).

When we have Halloween photos, I promise to post them.

Den Bosch

My new friend Ashra and I took the babies, Dieter (aged 1) and of course Eileen (9 months) to Den Bosch today. Or if you prefer S'Hertogenbosch. I found a gourmet shop and a coffee/tea emporium and a yummy lunch. Not a bad use of a couple of hours tiring out the offspring!

Den Bosch has canals that run under the building of the city. They only offer canal tours in the summer, but I am looking forward to taking one and seeing the underside of the town.

The town edifices are older than those of Uden and Eindhoven (which were both bombed during World War II). One difference between the towns that I have visited in the Netherlands and those that I have seen in Belgium is the fact that the town square is not surrounded by guild houses (the baker's guild house, the shoemaker's guild house, the banker's guild house etc.) That might be a function of the age of the towns. I want to go slower through Den Bosch soon, because the vestiges of the guild houses might still be there.

The Child might one day sleep

Hurray and Hurrah! Eileen has managed to take a couple of daytime naps without me and is only needing me to get up two times at night -- and this is two or three days of that! Now, if I can convince her that she doesn't really need/want food from 10pm to 5am again, we would be ahead of where we were when she caught her cold.

In other news, she has discovered that she can push a small play table around the room while standing. I am calling this her redecorating phase. In fact, as I was typing, she just redecorated my coffee to the floor but thankfully 1) it was cold and 2) she didn't break the mug.

Other news...it is beginning to feel like I have my own life (sort of). Looking at the calendar it is no longer filled with just things that had to do with Eric's office. I am starting to see a light at the end of the transitional tunnel. That likely means that I am no longer in quite the tourist mode. I will try to come up with a tourist like post, though after my trip to Den Bosch on Thursday.

So, after I wrote that last paragraph, I looked out the window and saw a man riding by on a bicycle while pulling a small horse by the reigns. Hmm...maybe I am not so used to being here after all.

Saturday - Daegen's birthday

Eileen has gone to her very first birthday party for a friend. Daegen turned 1. There was cake, a pinata, games, other kids from the playgroup. Oh my goodness! A nap followed the long tearful ride home.

We had an awesome time...and it was an all-American party with folks from the playgroup that Daegen's mother formed.

Meanwhile, back at the farm (who knew that I would ever be able to say that for real?), Eric spruced up the yard.

Anyway, that is the news from here in Volkel.

Rainy days and Tuesdays

My landlord, Maritje speaks no English and my Dutch is not at a conversational level - I dropped the little that I was studying some weeks ago, before my computer died and still haven't picked it back up again. I can sometimes figure out what is being said, but usually not. She stopped by yesterday to tell me that one of the neighborhood young adults was killed by a car over the weekend and that there would be an in home activity down the road on Saturday and that we were invited. We get through these types of conversations with the help of google translate, my Dutch English dictionary and lots of giggles at poor translations.

So, we will get to see our first in state.

Meanwhile, a short digression. Here in the Netherlands, kids live with their parents until they can afford to move on. So, this kid was 24. Most kids stay in their parents' home even while attending university or trade school. In a lot of ways, the idea that your kid can continue to live with you if he/she is contributing to the household, until he/she is ready to move out makes more sense than attaching an arbitrary age to the leaving home and becoming an adult idea. I think that it leads to a more sensible transition to adulthood than sending an 18 year old away to an environment that allows them to not learn budgets, or responsibility, but 'treats them as adults.' I just don't see most kids as using college to truly transition to adulthood. But, maybe I am looking at it wrong.

Karen and Eileen - the swimsuit edition

Okay, already, I know that I never post pictures. Here, let me make it up to you! You should know that no stunt-babies were used and no babies were harmed in the making of these images.

Vienna part 2

Some other thoughts from Vienna. For the Orthodox community it is common to keep men and women separate while praying. This is done in one of two ways: the balcony or the mehitza (a curtained region that keeps the women to the side). In the old shul (synagogue) in Vienna (the only one to survive Krystalnacht), they have a couple of balconies. I have always found it frustrating not to be able to reach out to touch the Torah and to participate at will. But, this time, with the baby, I was able to watch from on high. No one could reproach me for having a noisy baby with me. Additionally, my friend Jack mentioned how noisy it is downstairs. Because the balcony was really over only the bima (the raised portion of the synagogue where the Torah is read and the prayers are led), I think that we were able to hear and see better than most of the men. I will have to revise my thinking about separation.

My other thoughts were about language. It turns out that trying to learn German and Dutch concurrently would be impossible for me. If you already know German and English, then Dutch is a relatively easy language to pick up, but it doesn't work the other way. So, since I am trying to learn Dutch, I had to revert to English in Vienna. This worked okay, as Vienna is a pretty international city -- since the UN has a portion of the city. I have to say that the Viennese knew more English than the people of Uden. One of the women in the balcony at the synagogue (who looked older than Eileen's grandmothers) acted shocked that I would even ask if she spoke English.

Beauty and Fear - week in Vienna

Eileen and I are just back from a week in Vienna. I have not digested most of the experiences. We got to see my very good friend Jack -- the Rabbi that married Eric to me. We wandered streets and took streetcars. We went to a cafe and ate pastries. We were there for Jewish holidays.

The time there reminded me that the Holocaust is not that long ago, and that the Austrians, especially, have not come to terms with their role in this. Growing up Jewish, I often was asked to stand for the prayer remembering the dead (the Kaddish) to remember the people lost during the Holocaust. Before moving to Europe I had come to the conclusion that the religious that died in the Holocaust would be uncomfortable with me remembering people with whom I was not related and had no real knowledge, while the non-religious probably wouldn't care. The Holocaust was a tragedy, and another black period in the black and gray history of being Jewish. I cannot, then, reconcile that set of beliefs with how it feels to be in Europe in a synagogue that has been restored or newly built since they were mostly vandalized or destroyed in the past 60 years. I cannot tell you how it feels to have to pass pretty heavy security, passing police vehicles, answering questions because the synagogue has been bombed in the last 20 years and 25% of the parliament considers itself to be fascist/pro-Nazi. I can tell you that it takes an amazing trust in G-d to be raising your children Jewish in Vienna (even more than Amsterdam -- where there are also security issues and that horrible shadow still looms). I can tell you that I am now standing for Kaddish at every opportunity.

But, the smudge that is the Jewish-European history (and it is much longer than 60 years) doesn't diminish the wonder and awe that I feel from seeing Vienna. If Amsterdam is a dense, sweet, fruit-studded cake, Vienna is a wedding cake -- all Baroque and imposing. It is awe inspiring. The music opportunities are just as amazing.

I'll probably write another blog post on this once I have digested the trip more. For the time being, I am only sure that it takes a person of more faith than I have to give birth to and raise a Jewish child in today's Europe. I guess we are not likely to stay on forever.

back for a day

Hello friends;
If you believe that your information with me might have been left on my old computer (hint: if you never hand wrote your address for me and if I don't have a mailing list with your e-mail on it, this likely means you) please feel free to write to me and get my new computer in shape! I lost a lot when the hard drive failed -- but it was just a computer, I would hate for it to be friends, too!

So, since you last heard from me, I went to Amsterdam for Rosh Hashonah. There I was reminded of a couple of things: 1) toddlers and Europe (especially stairs) are a scary combo (thankfully, we are upright and sidling, but not actually walking), think stairs with limited handrails, 2) World War II really changed the face of Judaism in Europe (there were only about 30 of us for the service, and from the looks of people, they were the community...there regularly, except for me and a couple of foreign exchange students from the US), 3)Amsterdam may be 1.5 hours away on a weekend, but on a weekday, especially traveling with traffic, that becomes easily 3 hours.

I discovered that there are Jews in Tilburg, much closer than Amsterdam, thanks to one of the women at the event.

Eileen has been thriving at swimming. We had underwater portraits done last week, and hope that next week we will see a winning proof that I can post of my submerged baby.

Now, I must go pack. I am visiting Vienna to see a friend from my time in NM for Yom Kippur. I look forward to seeing him, but also am already wishing that I could be home for some time with Eric. It just feels like we are always running in different directions.

Oh, and for those wondering if Eileen is sleeping, things are different, but not better. I am sure that she will be sleeping soon, though. And meanwhile, 8 months and no teeth!

Ack--- Catastrophic failure

My hard-drive on my mac went belly up. I am able to occassionally check e-mail from one of the two other computers, but I will be asking you -- friends who read my blog, to please send e-mails to me when we get me back up and running. I think that we will be ordering everything come Monday...and add on two more weeks, so after Yom Kippur I will be able to blog and will want everyone to send e-mails so that I can capture e-mail accounts again. I have a pretty good personal memory, so there is a chance that I will remember you even if you don't feel like writing to me...but it will be a new Jewish Year, so well worth it.

In the mean time, I will be blog-free. So, your clue that it is time to write to me will be that you see a new post!

Thanks for your kindness and patience.

Eileen this Fall

It is officially Fall -- or as they say it here: Herfst. I learned that from one of Eileen's Dutch board books - a gift from our neighbors. Eileen and I had a morning tromp through fallen leaves on a dreary, cool day. Then returned for a morning nap and a brew of caffeine free peach tea.

We had our physical yesterday -- finally. She is slightly shorter than average, but not much, and same on weight. The doctor said that she was way ahead on milestones. She is officially 7660 grams (16 pounds, 14 ounces) and 68 cm (almost 27 inches). This means that according to the charts, she should grow up to be 170 cm (I am 150 for those keeping score).

Dutch lunch and breakfast are remarkably the same, and usually are not served hot. Think a slice of lunch meat between two slices of buttered bread. But, with lots of tile floors and a chill in the air, I have been cooking an egg, or reheating dinner from the night before. Eileen hates socks at the moment. She is trying to learn to walk and socks make it slippery...however, they taste great and it is entertaining to watch Mom slow down to pick them up as they are flung, stripper style, one at a time from the stroller (she also likes tearing off her cardigans, though Mom figured out that buttoning them under the chin prevents that).

Time to admit that the Dutch love children, but that they do that by criticizing complete strangers in public places like grocery shops (how dare I let her shop without socks on, or amble with her down the dairy aisle with its refrigerated cases). I have found that the best thing I can do is smile and nod and thank them for their concern. Mostly, it just feels weird. I know that there are people who act the same way in the US, but usually you know them -- they don't just walk up to you in a museum and start touching the baby your are holding (usually).

Urban Planning?

Eileen and I have explored many ways to travel between Volkel and Uden (the big town-- order of magnitude bigger than Volkel). I was speaking with a friend from the west yesterday. She has been here for four years and finds Europe sometimes difficult to navigate. She mentioned that she was used to cities laid out in a grid pattern. I started to warm to the subject of 'urban planning' as I think of it: Chicago after the fire. Then, I started to think about these old cities and how they were planned to confuse enemies trying to overrun them. So, I guess I was being biased - chaos can be urban planning.

In other news, NEVER throw money at the street artists in front of the Rijks museum. One of them had money thrown at him by an American yesterday; the artist then started a bellicose scene accusing all Americans of being rude, obnoxious, and secretly bringing nuclear things into his pristine country. I wonder whether the American had to pay extra for that (and if he somehow made it seem like: 1) he was bringing in something nuclear or 2) knew Condoleezza Rice personally, so could change foreign policy if he wanted. Moral: If you must give the artist money, put it gently in his hat (and only use Euros). I do find it curious in a country that irradiates much of its dairy -- (they call it shelf stabilized) that the word Nuclear is dirtier than The Sex Museum.

Food Glorious Food

Today I had lunch with a girlfriend in Uden. You might be thinking, so what? You ate lunch with me all the time when you lived here. The big deal here is that I went out for lunch on the local economy (not in The Building -- or in the Dutch lunch room). I have done that a couple of other times, but thus far, never just to go into town and have lunch unless it was our weekly time out of the house for Eric and me (together). It seemed so much pricier here than in the States, plus, there is the making a fool of myself by not knowing the language factor. To be fair, I have gone for coffee with various friends and even with just Eileen....so maybe I am making a big deal of nothing. At the time, it certainly felt like an event...but then again, since I normally don't have caffeine, maybe that is just the caffeine talking (nice foreshadowing, eh?).

So, we went to the local tiny version of say Marshall Fields (am I dating myself?) or Jordan Marsh (am I dating myself?) and went to the terrace dining room and for 10 euro (which is really quite reasonable -- it's about $15 or so) we got cappucino and a bagel with lox. YUM!!! first bagel here. I guess I won't have to make them myself (which is good, the mixer is in storage). I am still patting my stomach (and Eileen's).
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In other news, I found some rhubarb at the local grocery and made the best rhubarb struesel coffee cake ever. I found it as a muffin recipe at Epicurious, but they needed 1/2 cup sized muffin cups. Mine were 1/3 cup sized, so I either needed to adjust everything down a bit (hard to do with eggs, but not impossible) or try to find an equivalent pan. For the record, 12 muffins at 1/2 cup are about a 9 inch square baking pan!

Around the Building

There is a building on the base that houses a small, but very full Shopette (I posted about these before...but quickly, a Shopette is where you can buy your gas coupons, alcohol, snacks, and convenience items; rent/buy DVDs; and ours will order larger things for us -- like fans or humidifiers); a chow hall (open to family members and guests who are accompanied); an ATM and cash cage; and our APO boxes--with small attached mail facility; the club; a small exercise room; and a nice little playground.

Needless to say, this is often the center of activities. Whether it is the Support Our Squadron club (which might, in another era, have been an Officer's Wives Club - except we don't have enough officers for that here), an ad-hoc toddler music and motion class, a jumping off point for going on a trip to some place.

With this central role, it is of course where most of base life happens. It figures loudly in people's good and bad memories of the place.

Eric works long days, so Eileen and I will often sneak over to meet him or someone else for lunch there. Right now, with Eric out of town (he'll be back on Monday), Eileen and I sneak over around lunch time and to pick up our mail in the middle of the day. It is an easy way out of the house, since everyone there speaks English. Though, like Los Alamos (only more so--since it is about an order of magnitude smaller in terms of population), there is no anonymity there.

It's Kermis -- not Kermit!

Traveling carnivals seem to abound in Holland. They go to really big towns and throw a really big party there -- like Uden or even bigger: Oss. They come to little towns, and have four or five small rides -- like Volkel. Kermis is what these things are called. And, they come in the late summer to this part of the Netherlands...and because this is a Catholic area, they come again right before Lent.

I stayed away from the ones at Uden and Oss, having been to the German version (which was part of the pig roasting festival -- go on, ask me what I was doing at a pig roasting festival...not eating pig). These are big, crowded, loud, and tend to attract non-locals, who might be interested in picking a pocket (though with my purse and my baby sling forever intertwined, mine might not be the easiest pocket to pick.

I have heard from friends here that you can take your child on whatever ride you think that s/he might enjoy. This includes babies. And, sure enough, at both the one in Germany and the mini-one in Volkel, there are no signs saying that you must be this tall. But, the mini one in Volkel really had mostly tame, kid appropriate rides (there were about 5 rides, and three of these were: the little airplane ride, where you go in a circle slowly, up and down; bumper cars; and a small carousel). There were the traditional Carney games (hoops, water guns...), and then there were the big tents and live music at the bars and restaurants in town.

Eric and I felt simultaneously too old and not old enough. We looked around, covered our ears from the noise, and came home (if we were older, we could have turned off our hearing aids -- and probably would have ponied up some dough for Eileen to ride the rides).

This is the perfect place to announce that I had never seen a port-a-urinal (this is a hexagonal, unenclosed thing) located on a village street, in the parking area for a church before. I guess, you drink enough, you feel confident about peeing in public.

Slowly finding my way

A good portion of my life here is filled with frustration that I don't speak Dutch. Imagine being in the States and wanting to get information a topic and not speaking English. So, for the most part, using the phone terrifies me. I spend a lot of time on the Internet with my friend Google Translate. Here is where I say that 1) having a baby who has only slept through the night a handful of times in the past three months has hurt my meager ability to retain new words, 2) Rosetta Stone may be a good program, but I need to actually use it, 3) I am trying to sign up for language classes -- but waiting until my friend Dana gets back from the States.

I met with a woman from our local baby wellness bureau last week. She was impressed by how many toys we have -- and more than that, that we have books out for the baby. She was also caught off guard by the fact that Eileen immediately started to pull up on her to grab her papers (which I had to rescue three times before I finally suggested that maybe we needed to move them to a higher surface). My path forward can be one of the following: get all wellness baby things done at the local bureau, or get shots done within the US military medical world and do the rest at the bureau. Eileen reacts very strongly (think high fever and then about a week of not being herself), so the drive to one of the med facilities with US shots is untenable unless I have another person with me. I'll figure that out.

I spent yesterday morning (here it is 5am on Saturday) at the local swimming pool in Uden. It is actually a three pool indoor complex. Lovely and large. They have a swim class for babies. Eileen loved it. But, it starts and ends with a song or three, and I couldn't keep up with the singing. I will learn...I keep telling myself that. The pool was heated to about 88 degrees. There is a huge recreation pool with different depths that we might check out tomorrow afternoon. In other news, I may have made a Dutch friend, yesterday at the swim class. We'll see.

Following where Montgomery would have us go

Operation Market Garden came right through this part of the Netherlands in the fall of 1944 see http://worldwar2database.com/html/arnhem.htm for further information about this unsuccessful campaign. I won't be pulled into a debate about Montgomery vs. Patton, as that is untenable. Instead, Eric, Eileen, and I went to Arnhem and its surrounds to look for a museum in Montgomery's HQ for this campaign. We were stopped everywhere we tried to go and noticed a ton of people on foot. Strange. This is a bicycle kind of country.

We got home and discovered that they were people participating in memorial walks (10, 15, 20, and 40 km options) for the same operation. It explains why we couldn't get to the museum. And it said that there are a ton of people who remember the campaign. The highlight for me will be next weekend, when they have a race of WWII vehicles to a bridge in Arnhem. How cool is that?

***to those of you wondering, yes, I know I lived very close to Gettysburg and never saw that battle reenacted, but the Karen of today would have liked that opportunity :-)

Wineries

Like almost all of the Americans here, we have a GPS navigator for our car. "Tom-Tom" -- who we call Tom, despite the fact that the computer voice on it is really a Brit named Kate, often tells us how to get where we want to go. Yesterday, we decided that Tom should send us to a winery. It has a winery button and Eric picked one. Kid in backseat, us in front, good classic rock on the radio...off we go.

Now I know you are thinking, I have heard of French wine, and German wine, and Italian wine, but never Dutch wine. Ah, I figured, maybe we are in for a hidden treat, after all, the history of each of these European wine areas seems to have come with the Romans (notice, the Brits are not known for their wine...so there was a hole in this hypothesis already). So, we follow where Tom sends us to a residential area in a little industrial town. No vines to be seen, no signs on houses, we had to assume that this was not a winery as we know it, but possibly a wine importer running the business from his home. Geez. We didn't knock, it was a drive-by winery search!

Fall?

Well leaves are starting to yellow here and there. Berries are turning red or black and attracting birds. The temperature feels a little cooler. It is gray and rainy (oh wait...it was that in high summer, too). I am beginning to see signs of Fall. Perhaps it is the planning that goes into the Jewish New Year -- different here, since the planning is less directed inwardly into how to make ammends for the wrongs that I have done in the past year and more frantically outward trying to find a community at all.

Eileen seems just happy as can be to stay in the house all day, but even though the socks are slippery on the tile floors and she has had the ability to remove them since 2 months, she has actually started bringing them back to me when she removes them at all to put back on her tiny frozen feet. This while learning to walk. I do make sure that we walk outdoors for at least 15 minutes a day -- no matter how gloomy. Eileen is still the toothless teether, we think -- though she awoke sticking out her tongue and would not even put it away for me to feed her the greek yogurt and banana mixture I made for breakfast - guess who got a wipe down over the kitchen sink? Maybe one or two of the six just below the surface have decided to emerge.

We seem to be settling into a rhythm of sorts. Market at least one day a week. Grocery on an intervening day. Laundry amounts to about a load a day, but I save it for two big laundry days. Coffee with local friends when I can. A major base related thing a week - though I actually missed the Italian lunch day yesterday which was to be my major base related activity. That said, I had two the week before, so I am still doing fine on average.

Otherwise, I am truly missing my worldwide cadre of friends. Thanks for checking the blog!

the ongoing adventures of Wilbur Cat

Most of my readers know that Wilbur cat is a long haired mostly Maine coon. He is about 12 years old and came to me a year before Eric and I settled into marital bliss. He belonged to Eric before that.

Wilbur had an exciting move over here and has had some fun and terrifying moments since then. Eileen LOVES Wilbur in a way that results in Wilburs hair being loved off...like in the Velveteen Rabbit only with claws.

Wilbur is not as fond of stairs and running as he used to be. He also needs a pretty regular reminder for the "not in front of Mommy" rule (no counter, no clawing furniture, etc.). This didn't used to be a problem. Also, mister skittish, finicky cat, suddenly cannot get enough wet food -- no matter how much and what flavor we feed him. This from a cat who on June 5th would only have licked some gravy off the wet food we put down. Other strangeness: no more hairballs and lots of matted fur.

We don't know if it was actually Wilbur's evil twin who got off the plane in Amsterdam, but he is cute and furry.

Six month wellness baby -- the saga continues

Yesterday we went to the primary care doctor again to try to get Eileen set up with wellness baby stuff. We still don't know how much she weighs or how tall she is (she did get her shots). Though she is now 7 months and no longer even close to 6 months. They couldn't do anything there -- no scale to weigh her, no growth charts to show how she was doing.

I was handed a phone number to an automated phone line (it answers in Dutch...duh...and there is no para Espanol button). Eventually, 9 phone calls later I decided to push a random button and see if a person answered who could help. She could and she did. She said that when we registered with our mayor there should have been a call from a nurse to set it up. Ah..there is the rub. We are not registered with the city of Volkel.

She said she would give my number and info to the nurse and would try to work the problem from her end.

To be clear, Eileen and I are registered aliens with rights to live in the Netherlands, but I did it through the NATO office in Brunsom as I was told to do. Ah, but I learn slowly!!!!

Eileen meanwhile, got to wear her clothes and not be prodded for yet another day :-)

Shoes

This post is for my good friend Christina and the rest of the Atomic Knitters.

Eric, Eileen, and I went to Helmond for dinner on Friday night. I have been watching what women wear here. Mostly they dress like people do in the States, except that the jeans are rarely blue, but otherwise pretty similar. I was expecting more spandex and micro-skirts like I remember from my time in Boston. But, just like in Boston, those are limited to the young who feel like showing off and the occasional older person who doesn't realize that she is over 50.

But, this post is supposedly about shoes. Let me say that I expected absolutely no cowboy boots -- so I am constantly surprised to see them on people. Additionally, I expected stiletto heels...and with the exception of some of those women dressed in micro skirts, I see sensible flats with an occasional pointy toed outlier everywhere I look. It is like the whole country shops at those comfort shoe places that I used to love: Echo, Arche, Naot, Reiker, Clarke, and then the occasional Chuck Taylor, Addidas, or Nike.

You've settled in...

This post is dedicated to my Grandfather Stuart (in blessed memory) and my Uncle Ken.

We have exposed brick in this house. Not just on exterior walls, but on interior walls as well. We saw this also at the bed and breakfast and I have seen it during construction projects (like houses being built or remodeled nearby). Sometimes there are cracks that run the length of the wall. It turns out that they build by concrete block and plaster more often than by framing a wall and putting up drywall here. I would guess that that means better insulation here. It definitely means that the houses would be dangerous if built on a fault line. It probably also explains the reason that the doors can only be locked with a key. Even with exposed beams, it would take something for the house to catch fire.

Other things to note: we don't have a hot water shut off valve on the sinks (those are the valves under the sinks in every modern American bathroom...we have codes about it). This means that being your own plumber could result in burning yourself.

Rewiring would be impossible, so moving an outlet is not an option. Happily all the outlets are about chest high on me which means that with the exception of the ones near the future location of the changing table, our outlets are mostly out of the reach of little fingers (until they discover step stools or pulling furniture to where they want to explore).

Kitchens in the Netherlands tend to have room for an eating table, but only one wall of cabinets, stove, oven, sink, and half fridge (disguised to look like a cabinet). We also have a dishwasher. Eric and I decided to make the low drawers and cabinets "Eileen friendly" with tupperware, wooden spoons, etc. and to use the pot rack that I had in DC for hanging day to day pots and pans.

I have taken some pictures on Eric's camera, but will need to download them and then downsize them before we post.

Teething = No Sleep in this House

This will be a short post. Eileen seems to be in full out Teething Mode. Baby Tylenol (at least in the doses allowed for her at her 4 month check up) is not allowing her to sleep. Last night I took her to 'sleep' with me. This resulted in her eating all night, and neither of us sleeping. Ah well, this too shall pass.

Eric is on shift work until Wednesday, so we are trying to let him get at least an hour of uninterrupted sleep.

Eileen has a new favorite game for the time being - taking my fingers, one in each hand, and leading me around the house.

I pulled out her roll toy yesterday. It is a wood version of the space shuttle. She had all the mechanics of it down, but needs about 2 inches to get to sit on the seat and use her legs to move her around. She even understood the handles and how to use them to steer. Very cute, but it went back to the hidden toy area upstairs until she is a little taller (like next week).

Otherwise, we definitely are noticing how far North we are. It is no longer light at 5am and in fact dawn is now clearly long after 7am (I think...it could just be really really cloudy). And, it is getting dark much earlier than the 9pm dusk that we experienced when we arrived.

Other news: since we arrived at least 3 babies have been born in the squadron. I am bringing meals for two of those families this week. Eileen and I are also hosting the new Mom and Babies group on Thursday. So, I am keeping busy!

It's Saturday -- let's all go to Schinnen

As I have probably failed to mention, Volkel is not large enough to warrant a Commissary or BX (at least the American side is not large enough). We do have a Shopette (convenience store for those who are not military) -- where we can buy fuel coupons and cigarettes (if we smoked) and junk food (let's not talk about my bad habits) and alcohol without a VAT (and Budweiser for those who miss it).

Backing up -- Commissary is the military version of a grocery; BX or PX (base exchange or post exchange) are the almost department stores that the military provides to active duty and retirees.

Schinnen is home to an Army Garrison and our closest PX and Commissary.

In Colorado Springs, I would occasionally visit the Shopette for junk food or alcohol. About once a month I would head to the Commissary in case they had a good deal on produce, cleaning supplies, or ice cream. I would hit the BX at the same time because it was there. I usually didn't buy things. When in Los Alamos, I did not bother driving to ABQ to visit either.

Here, I have already hit the Commisary three or four times...and it is about 45 minutes away from our house...and I am dragging a baby. Deals which were okay in the States are really good here: meat, cleaning supplies, paper goods, pet stuff, and canned goods are why we go.

Today we did a major stock up on those things. We will be going to Ramstein next week, mostly for BX options (see the post on Adapters vs Transformers for part of the reason) and for me to see the place -- Eric has already been there several times.

I would say that American shopping is a pretty silly thing to post about, but we saw at least 4 families and a group of girlfriends down for the day from Volkel, so the visit to Schinnen seems to be about more than just canned foods and meats. It is about community and American things with a capital A. It is about a taste of home. Reminder: this is being said by a woman who could bike to both a Subway and a McDonalds.

Jews in the Netherlands

I had a lovely talk with the treasurer of the Liberal Jewish community in Amsterdam today. I might even go there for the High Holy Days.

She told me the following story: She was visitng friends around Thanksgiving in Florida. She went downstairs the next day and discovered both a Christmas tree and a Menorah. She told me that the Netherlands is similar except without the Menorah. That said, she sounded very welcoming, so perhaps I will have a Jewish home here -- merely 1.5 hours from our actual home. Happily, they have Saturday morning services, and Kabalat Shabat services only once a month each, so I will still be able to spend lots of time with my husband when he is actually home.

Other news for those who haven't heard elsewhere: Eileen is pulling herself up, climbing up on things when she has the opportunity, sitting, and growing teeth.

I will send a picture soon.

Eric and I ordered a bunch of maple syrup for gifts from a tiny maple farm. It arrived, and the farm owners are about to get a version of Flat and Sticky Stanley with their syrup visiting wind mills and wooden clogs...

Pine, tinfoil, floral wire....sounds like 25 years to me!

Our neighbors across the street, Jan and Jolanda are celebrating 25 years of marriage. The actual anniversary is today. Last night, the neighbors (including us) gathered and made an arch. My friends Ani and her husband brought the pine trees and the greenery from their Christmas Tree field. Everyone made the tin foil roses (we think...we arrived in time to help tie the roses to the associated trees). Jan and Jolanda (and also Ani) have sold us eggs from their farm. They own the Belgian plow horse and her foal that live in the field adjacent to our house. Additionally, Eileen and I have visited some other lovely horses that also have foals and Belgian blue cows - many of whom are pregnant.

One of the things that strikes me about this land is that at least in the rural area where we live, they are much more public about celebrations that we usually are in the states. If you have a baby, it requires a large wooden sign. If you move in, or you are leaving, or you have a big anniversary, then the neighbors come and decorate and stay on for coffee.

Next Thursday, Eileen and I are going to visit my neighbor, Maryanne, for coffee in honor of her birthday. It would never occur to me to invite the neighbors over for something like that. I am glad that someone else had a birthday first. Now I know that it would be a handy thing to have the cake on hand in case someone shows up!

Perhaps, this is where I mention my observations about privacy and proximity. The average standoff distance for the Dutch in conversation or in driving is much closer than for most Americans not in a traffic jam. This means that parking spaces barely allow even European cars to open their doors. It also means that you need to stop stepping back in conversation -- this is just the Dutch way.

The Search for Community

This coming week will have the theme of searching for a community for me.

To review what I have done thus far: I have written to Rabbis in Amsterdam and Maastricht and heard nothing back, written to the USAFE Rabbi (United States Armed Forces Europe), who promptly retired and moved to Colorado Springs; I have used the ravelry.com resource to write to knitters located in the state of North Brabant -- with a 50% response rate and those mostly useless; I have joined an online Jewish study group; I have started going to the Support Our Squadron and the Mom and Baby groups within Eric's squadron; I have invited the neighbors in for coffee; I have invited many of the officers and the leadership of the squadron for dinner - and plan to continue those invitations -- please don't be offended!

I have a cadre of folk that I enjoy time with at the Squadron, but I am used to having work friends, Jewish friends, knitting friends, etc. I am feeling like I have not got that whole community together yet. I think part of that is because I am not yet fluent in Dutch. So, I spend a good amount of time feeling really lost. I think that I truly understand what it must be like to be illiterate -- because despite being able to read, I am a functional illiterate here.

Tomorrow, I head with Eric to his boss' change of command ceremony. Eric's counterparts are bringing their wives, so I will meet some other women who are in similar situations. That might be a comfort. On Wednesday, I will be driving to a NATO base to have coffee with an international wives club. Perhaps that will help me find a community.

Fun for the Kids

We have a Scouting house in the neighborhood. Eileen and I pass it often walking to and from downtown Volkel (such as it is) to our home. For the past three days it has been hosting this major jamboree marking the end of summer. The kids start school on Monday. They have made field glasses from toilet paper rolls, gone down water slides (in the 60 degree farenheit weather in their little bikinis), they have raced, swung, built things, played games. In short, they have been having a great time.

I am still learning Dutch (I take a Rosetta Stone lesson every day -- and believe it or not I am seeing progress), so I didn't understand all of what was being said, but clearly lots of fun!

Eric and I live about a long city block away from another fun spot: Billy Bird park - Hemelreijk -- I hope they don't mind the link: http://www.billybird.nl

We keep thinking that we should go there, but most of the cool stuff would be inaccessible with the baby. She loves the water, though, so we will probably go there next summer to play on the lake if nothing more.

One of the coolest ways to explore in Amsterdam is to rent a canal bike -- one of the paddle boats on the canals. Again, not really a great activity with a baby. We'll probably stick to the powered tour boat instead.

Plugs - adapters transformers and me

Well friends, I have come to believe that adapters are there to thwart me. Just because my plug fits into one, doesn't mean that we don't need a transformer. So far, there have only been two casualties -- and only one was my fault.

So, I used to have a surge protector. I carefully thought through what was to be plugged in -- my mac, maybe a lamp or two...none needed a transformer. So, I plugged in the surge protector and blew the fuse. Of course, the surge protector sensed something more than the 110 that it was designed to handle and stopped the current. Thus fulfilling its contractual obligation, it ceased to be of use.

The other one was when Eric plugged my electric toothbrush into the adapter -- when it needed a tranformer. It got really hot and then ceased to work.

Oh well...we hear that everyone does that at least once, and these were two relatively cheap mistakes (we have heard of plasma televisions, Dyson vacuums, and other things).

---- to my non-engineer/scientist friends ---

The Europeans use 220V (nominal) with a 50 Hz wave form. We in the states use 110V with a 60 Hz wave form. If you have something that has a motor in it or depends on the wave form, it will run slower here (e.g. your digital clock loses 10 minutes an hour if it depends on the wall outlet). Transformers will allow some appliances to work here -- things like the toaster oven or coffee maker. Some things -- like computers and simple lamps -- can be run off the local power (though you need different light bulbs -- ours will explode) using adapters. Some things are so dependent on the waveform to run motors, fans, etc., that they should not be used here. We left our washer and dryer in the states because of this.

Olympics via the Armed Forces Network Europe

I recognize that I am looking a gift horse in the mouth here, but I have to do a short blog about our TV. We get it for free...and we get shows that the networks might otherwise be making more of a profit on. I think that they donate them...and we don't get commercials....that will be in the next paragraph (nice foreshadowing, huh?). We get movies, a kid related network with a combination of Spongebob and Brady Bunch and a little Scooby Doo thrown in, we get sports -- even radio. All is great, except that first run and sports are shown at the same time that they broadcast in the states, so I am watching a lot of opening heats of swimming and women's bicycling, since I don't want to be up at 4am to watch gymnastics or diving. I have heard that the day after the Superbowl is considered a holiday here, since it also starts about 3am...

So, you must be thinking about how wonderful it is that I am not subjected to commercials here. But, you think to yourself, if they are showing things live, aren't there gaping blank spots in the programs? Not to worry, we have public service announcements instead...vote, think positive about upcoming moves, get family counseling, don't sexually harass, do get insurance...the options are both tedious and endless.

Dutch food??? What is Dutch food?

Eric, Eileen, and I have been trying to discover what constitutes Dutch food by looking for a Dutch restaurant. Not frequently, mind you, since restaurant meals here are a little pricier than their American counterparts. We have discovered that just as there is no such thing as a truly American meal at a restaurant (maybe pot roast at a diner...but that isn't a formal restaurant), the Dutch have the same issues.

We know that there are particularly favorite Dutch foods: pancakes, frites (which are popular everywhere), cream filled cakes, sausage filled breads, thin sandwiches, crocquettes, and of course Herring in its many and varied forms. But, most of these are at their best as street food in Amsterdam (we think...have only been there once) or at a fair. It is sort of like believing American cuisine is best described by funnel cakes -- leading you to eat only at county fairs in central Pennsylvania. In fact, most of the restaurants that we have been to have lunch menus that contain the list above, but for dinner, they might be like any nice restaurant in the US or Canada - maybe you can get frite with your dinner -- and maybe they are not from some multi-national food distribution center as a frozen product.

There are ethnic restaurants here: Shoarma, Indonesian, Greek, Italian. Even small towns have a Shoarma/Pizza place and usually an Indonesian place as well (our Indonesian place in Volkel, is actually, more like a Dutch place that serves mild curry on the chicken (kip) and mild dipping sauce for sate on their spare ribs). We can walk to a Greek place from our house -- it is toward the next town over.

So, like America, there may be no official Dutch food, but you are reminded of that by discovering that there is an ethnic place right nearby.

Eileen and progress

Well;
I know that parenting goes fast and furious. I am often chasing child now. She is crawling on all fours without the belly drag (unless tired). She has learned to open drawers and crawl under objects. Eileen continues her fascination with Wilbur cat - who is less fascinated with her since she grabbed his tail and managed a mouthful of fur.

The smallest inhabitants of our Netherlands home

Well;
I have been up for more than an hour with my allergies, so I thought that this would be a good time to slap mosquitos and blog.

Eric managed to entertain Eileen most of the night while I got the linen closet, or rather linen area in our giant storage closet, organized. I also managed to make up the guest room...except for a 40 watt lightbulb for the bedside lamp.

So, maybe I should mention the other creatures that we know are sharing our house with us. There are no poisonous anything here in the Netherlands....but our home is infested with many types of non-poisonous spiders (who never seem adept at keeping the mosquitos at bay). We sleep under mosquito netting. Eileen has two sets of netting in her room -- one on the daybed where I nurse her, and one over her crib. We have a giant canopy of mosquito netting over our bed. Eric found a single tiny field mouse in our bonus room (dead of course). We now leave that open and have Wilbur cat up there regularly...we think that the mice decamped for a field from whence they had come.

We know from the previous tenants that the spiders are here to stay....I actually have a spider towel and a vacuum cleaner that are regularly used in cleaning them out...they just keep coming back. We have hopes that the mosquitos are not likely to stay once the heat of summer is gone.

But, with all the wildlife and the smells from the neighboring farms, I feel like I am at summer camp.

That's it for now....

Weekend sees progress

Hello all;
I think it is time for my rant about the appliances in Europe. We have already replaced our dryer -- it was taking 2-3 hours for a single pair of pants. Our washer has lost its motor sensor to keep it balanced when spinning, and we have been without it for more than a week. These appliances are on loan from Schinnen. We also have a European large freezer and dishwasher. The large freezer should be more efficient than our American ones because it has coils into each shelf or drawer liner...but that means that we cannot have anything bigger than the European manufacturer wanted us to put in there -- no room for an American style turkey for example. Because we are shopping mostly from the local economy, we are not stocking the freezer the way that some families do, so that one is unplugged right now. The problem with most of the European appliances is that they run much hotter than the American ones, they take longer, and they have less capacity. I think that this has become a rant, when I merely meant for it to be illustrative. Our washer can handle about 2.5 kg of cotton. Anything else, it should be a smaller load (though they don't actually tell us how much smaller, and I don't have a washer scale). Same thing for the dryer. I think that means that I cannot wash a full set of two towels, with hand towels and wash cloths. The washer takes about 2 hours and can run as hot as 90 C. I have control of the temperature and won't set it above 60 C. The dryer is a condensation dryer, despite us having a vent hole for a dryer adjacent to the dryer. I think that that is what makes it so inefficient. I am constantly running the water tray to the sink to empty it. (Less so, now that I have to go to the base for laundry).

In other news, every box that is going to be empty is empty. All artwork is out of the boxes and we are starting to put it in front of where it will be hung. I am still looking at options for hanging things on the walls. We are missing some of the hardware from my piano and the wheels from a basement wardrobe. But, other than that all is here. Photographs will come soon.

I don't think that I have walked you through the house yet....here is the verbal rundown:
floor zero (which we Americans might mistakenly call the first floor): 4 tractor garage -- two sets of doors and two vehicles deep, large mudroom (where we have an American style fridge/freezer and laundry) with a WC off of it, vestibule to the kitchen contains a china cabinet and a large walk in pantry, kitchen, large front room with our dining table and a living room set and my desk in it (all of this space is tiled), stairway vestibule (there are other stairs from the garage to upstairs as well), large master bathroom with a bathtub so long that I can lie fully immersed on the bottom of it, large master bedroom, and another room -- Eileen's nursery.

floor one: large stairway landing with storage on one wall, other wall has a 3/4 bath, a guest room with a twin bed, then turning the corner slightly, a guest room with a queen sized bed, and a sitting room....oh and above the 4 tractor garage is a 4 tractor in floor space bonus room....and above that is even more storage (though we are storing things in the bonus room for now).

Dutch stairs are terrifying and ours don't have a handrail for at least part of the exterior of their length (though they are much less steep than at the bed and breakfast). Happily, Dutch doorknobs seem to hit me at about the sternum or a little lower, so we must just remember to close doors that lead to stairs.

We haven't yet hung our pots and pans, but I hope that that will free enough space from the pantry that I can store cleaning supplies there behind a closed door. Pictures will follow.

Scale Lengths and Costs

Well;
The price for being of a scientific bent is to start thinking of things in round numbers and imagining them as related to things you know. This goes for the oven (which of course is celsius), where 180 has become my 350. And the outside: 30 is too hot and 15 is a little on the chilly side. This goes for Eindhoven (our big city) which is about the same in population as Albuquerque and Colorado Springs. Distances are easy to convert, too. I live about as far from Vokel as I did from what used to be the Wild Oats in C. Springs (it is now a Whole Foods) or as my condo was from what Kate lovingly refurred to as Smurways (it was a Smiths last time I saw it). A comfortable 15-20 minute walk from the house.

Some things are hard to quantify though. I was at the market today with Eileen. We bought veggies and cheeses with my pidgeon Dutch...sometimes effective and sometimes not...and then stopped by the flowers stall and for 6 Euro (about 10 bucks) got three huge bunches of flowers-- sunflowers and two different colored smaller flowers whose names I didn't catch in Dutch and don't know in English - filling two vases. Most everything here is crazy expensive compared to the states -- except beer, wine, candles, and flowers. Does this make the Netherlands the most romantic country ever?

Photos at last

Here are the neighbors welcoming us to the new house!

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Some photos from the bed and breakfast (note the proximity of sleeping cat and sleeping baby)

More photos will actually follow now that I have camera and connecting cable.

Quick update

So the last post was pretty impersonal. Here is what is going on with us right now. The baby is having fun in her exersaucer, I'm blogging, and the cat is sleeping. But in a more general way, our belongings arrived last Thursday. We spent Friday in Germany at Spangdahlem AFB getting Eric's eyes checked and running errands. The weekend we cranked through the kitchen, office and master bedroom. Last night I finished the last box that was in the living room (though we still have some book boxes somewhere). We are a little shy of the half-way mark in unpacking -- but with only the laundry/mud room, garage, and bonus room over the garage hosting the things to be unpacked, the house has become almost livable.

In answer to questions that usually arrive with the movers:

1) yes, there was some damage, looks like we might get a new buffet and get my two cherry bookcases fixed.

2) we are missing a shelf from one of the book cases (maybe it was packed in a picture pack?)

3) we have a box that was actually packed for non temp storage that showed up here (I will unpack it and repack into a crate that we have)

4) we have at least one box that I titled: OOOPS I packed it again.... filled with things that we did not intend to send to the Netherlands (like two hairdryers, curling iron, curlers...), or having tried them out, realized that they won't work (like the living room drapes), or the things are extraneous (like the silverware organizer).

So, we can actually host visitors at this point. In reality, we would like another two weeks to finish unpacking, though...unless you are the type of guest who will play with the baby so that I can have my hands free.

You Know if You are an American IF.....

Since this is supposedly a form of flattery for Jeff Foxworthy, let me just say it. The cultural differences between Europe and America offer an opportunity to think about things from the perspective of "You know you're an American if..."

Here are some of the universals:
No matter how many signs and hinges and other symptoms exist, you seem to need to push at doors when you are inside a building heading to outside. (I feel like I am in the Gary Larson comic for the school for the gifted).

You keep looking for a yellow line in the middle of the road.

You expect a refill on the beverages -- at no charge.

You expect beer/wine to be more expensive than a glass of water.

You think that bicycle helmets might be a good idea, even if you are not wearing racing gear; and you think that they might even be a good idea for children.

You might want to eat outside even if you aren't smoking.

You find it an invasion of privacy to have your photo taken while driving, but not to be told whether to wear seatbelts.

You find it surprising that smoking is clearly a right, but GMO produce might be dangerous.

-----
I'll continue working on this...since this is clearly not a large list, and I keep seeing more signs that I am an American at every point.

For example, they aren't using side slings right now, so my sling marks me as an American (though my stroller and the baby bjorn do not!!!!).

Of course, I don't speak many languages, and that smacks of being an American.

Military wife? - who knew?

I have been married for more than three years now. It should not have come as a surprise that I am the wife of a LtCol, but there you have it. I have been surprised by it. It turns out that in C. Springs we mostly hung out with my friends from the synagogue and knitting and wherever else. In fact, only two friends from Eric's office ever stopped by period (one to drop a meal after Eileen came home). And, of course, the first year we were married, he spent on Ascension Island and I was still happily doing work for Los Alamos.

So, after never being a Captain's wife or even really a Major's wife, here I am at a very small unit, the wife of the Squadron Commander. That means that everyone that I know other than the neighbors, the bakery employees, and my hairdresser either works for my husband or has someone in their immediate family that works for him. It has led to some awkward moments for me.

Sometimes people are offering kindnesses to me, and I cannot tell if they are kindnesses that other people would also receive. I try really hard to not accept any help or offers...but sometimes that can be silly too. Here are a couple of examples with names and facts distorted to protect the innocent:

I am hoisting Eileen and trying to precariously balance dishes and silverware that we have borrowed from the loaner closet at the base. Eventually I notice that Eileen is sliding down the side of me and I still have about 30 yards to go to the car (I came close to giving the metric distance). I put the packages down on the ground and readjust Eileen. At that point a Sergeant offers to help. I assume that he would do this for anyone and that the chore of moving the Corelleware service for 4 is not too onerous. I accept the help.

-- side note to those who are not military -- everyone moves here from somewhere else and it always takes a while for your household goods to catch up. Every base has a loaner closet that is intended to help you get started in your home until your belongings arrive. Usually, they have dishes and some cookware, maybe a pitcher and collander, sometimes an iron, and often a pack 'n play. No bedding or towels are available, though. You are free to borrow what you need for a finite amount of time. Eric and I had packed as though there were only to be two of us eating. My parent's visit necessitated borrowing a little from the closet. --

I am sitting with Eileen and an Airman stops by and offers me some old baby cloths that she says she doesn't need. To put this offer into perspective: there are 4 babies that I know of that are expected to be born between now and mid-September. 3 of them are expected to be girls and one is undetermined...at least three of them are first children, and possibly the fourth as well. Clearly, there are many people who could use baby cloths. Thanks to my friends and relations and one very special Sunday school parent, Eileen is set until age 3 give or take an outfit. Eventually, I discover from talking to her that she intends to have more children. I offer to store the cloths in my ridiculously big home, instead of using them.

I am often offered services of offspring: my kids babysit, clean house, etc. I know that in the real world I would be jumping at good babysitters. I am still unsure how to handle these (for the time being I have said a conditional yes -- with pay -- to the occasional extra set of hands for Eileen so that I can unpack -- but with me still being the primary food source, we aren't ready to leave her alone with anyone). I am staying away from the cleaning offer. This is especially true because many of the bathroom chemicals appear to be harsher than the US counterparts....I don't want to expose someone else's children to those chemicals if it is not necessary.

I am getting used to it being a topic of gossip. I am trying to be cordial to everyone and learn names. Turns out that not sleeping makes my memory for names even worse (who knew that it could get worse). I am getting used to the idea that my parents were wrong when they named me and that my first name should really have been Ma'am. I am getting used to the idea that my coming into a room might end all conversations and cause people to stand up -- even in the chow hall. I am getting used to the idea that my asking an innocent question might take people away from their actual work and send them on a wild goose chase as they drop what they are doing to try to help me-- so I don't ask them what is in the soup, or whether they have noticed if the wireless is working, or anything else like that.

Meanwhile, the inevitable has finally occurred. Our household goods will arrive tomorrow sometime. They claim that it will only take one day to uncrate all seven crates. Yes, you read that right....we had 7 crates come with us and two go to storage.

Expect that I will be posting only twice a week until I get stuff unpacked.

Welcome to the Neighborhood

When we were to spend our first night in the neighborhood, 7 close neighbors stopped by. They erected a lovely welcome sign over our front walkway. They came in for the customary coffee and sweet (note the singular).

We had no furniture yet except a deck table in questionable condition and 5 plastic chairs that surrounded it. We had been warned about the coffee, so we had made a pot and had sweets available. But, we only 'owned' 6 mugs (four were borrowed) and 2 acrylic cups. Our landlord took a look at the lack of chairs and turned with his neighbor across the street. They returned with 2 more plastic chairs and 4 matching nice leather or naugahyde chairs (which are still in our kitchen as we await furniture). This definitely improved all, but for the folks drinking coffee from acrylic wine glasses.

The conversation was rapid in Dutch. Slow and sporadic in English. The smiles were genuine enough, though. Lot's of blushing at our own ineptitude.

This was before we had even the loaner furniture from Schinnen.

According to many of our American friends, here, this welcome is common within neighborhood confines.

Thanks to Eric's predecessor and family, they paid out our portion of the annual dues for the neighborhood association. The association throws a midsummer party (which we attended a portion of on our second weekend in country) and a santa related program in December for the kids.

Strangely, Santa (Sinter Klass) comes from Spain on December 5th. I don't have the whole story. I am looking forward to learning more about that. Perhaps, it is related to Advent. I am sort of sorry that we might be in the states and thus miss the excitement...though of course looking forward to having Eileen and her grandparents and great grandma together.

Whatever Lola wants....(or in this case, mother-in-law wants)

Well;
I had a request to talk about shopping here. Since we had a day hitting the IKEA, the Jumbo grocery store, and the Praxis hardware store, it seems appropriate to address my mother-in-law's question about shopping here. Having not lived in the US (or anywhere else) in the 50's I would guess that that is sort of where we are in some ways (granted this is from Leave-it-to-Beaver idealism, rather than first hand knowledge).

We have grocery stores that would look a lot like your standard grocery stores in the states, maybe bigger or smaller, and selling beer and wine, which might or might not happen depending on where you live. Within biking distance I can use the following chains: Em-Te, Jumbo, Albert Heijn, Jumbo, Aldi (which strangely carries the Trader Joe brand on some items), Plus, Bio (all organics), and Lijn. The grocery stores carry a lot of prepackaged prepared foods that are fresh, so you get your stir fry mix or your soup mix in the fresh veggie section. You can also pick up a prefabbed dinner complete with all the food, just to put in oven or microwave. Often these are very tasty and complete. And of course very handy, when you don't have many herbs and your sole spice is pepper. But, I miss cooking....that will be a story for when our household goods arrive (they are in a warehouse some place farther south in the country....they'll get here eventually).

Now, on top of that variety there are tons of butchers and bakers. Our baker is on the Dutch olympic baking team and an amazing baker (and really funny, posed as though a baguette is a javelin). The Dutch favor very creamy cakes. And there is a custom of open door hospitality involving a small piece of pastry or a cookie and a cup of coffee for almost anyone that wanders in your home. This can create a cultural discomfort...but that is for another post.

Beyond the butchers and bakers and the large grocers, every town has a fruit & veggie market at least once a week - even tiny Volkel. Uden has it twice a week. Often you can buy other things like flowers and fish or even bicycle stuff and clothing.

What we have discovered is that things are sold more ripe here...both local produce like the strawberries and cherries, and the imports. Consquently, I shop at least twice a week, or we cannot have fresh fruits and veggies (both of which Eileen decidedly enjoys with her rice cereal).

So, we buy for two or three days at a time.

Here is the time to say that we will start stocking up on canned goods, cat food, meats, and other frozen foods once a month at a commisary on a US faciility. We have issued in our home, beyond the kitchen fridge (which has no freezer), a standard US size fridge/freezer, and a full freezer as well.

In answer to the thought questions: IKEA is pretty much like IKEA every where, down to the restaurant, and the Swedish food, and the snack bar. Jumbo is local and smaller than some, but recently redone and a very decent grocery option. Praxis is more ACE without the helpful hardware man than like Home Depot.

I hope this answered what shopping is like, please let me know if there are details that are of interest.

We like recycling, we love recycling, how 'bout u (or je)?

Well as promised I will be trying to cover a topic or two in each blog. This one is a threefold discussion: 1) Dutch miscommunication, 2) Dutch directions to locations, and 3) recycling here.

We live in this wonderful old (or made to look old) Dutch farmhouse. It is owned by this lovely couple who are in their early 60s (we think...haven't asked them). They are willing to do almost anything to make this house better and more livable for us. But, they don't speak a word of English (okay maybe a word or two, but that is due to cognates and luck). We had asked them what we do about disposable diapers. Thanks to Rebecca Operhall we have been using diapers that we should be able to flush, but our plumbing might not deal with that well. So were we to put them in the trash or was there an alternative?

Tien and Maritje (the landlords) have a daughter-in-law who we asked, Marguerite. Marguerite gave Maritje the information about the chance to recycle diapers here. I joined Tien and Maritje for coffee...and Maritje tried to explain what Marguerite had told her.

Misunderstanding one: I thought that Marguerite was going to stop by. So I stayed well beyond my welcome waiting for her until it became clear that she was not coming.

Maritje said that I needed to go to the old folks home to pick up sacks for recycling. I asked Old Folk's home? Hoping for an address or phone number or some way to reach this mythical land. -- Misunderstanding two: Maritje tried a different tact: Old Men's home....ah, that was much better. We went back and forth with me coming no closer to an answer, except that I had a town name and that was our local town of Volkel which is pretty small. Just so you know, I have never actually gotten a street address for anything unless it was an American offering directions. This is not a unique problem with the landlords.

The next morning, I went and parked the car outside the grocery store and took the baby and walked. Past the church and before the petting farm was a building that was clearly inhabited by elderly folks. I took a chance and tried a couple of doors before finding the front door and a nurse at a duty station. She handed me two big rolls of plastic bags and somehow we managed to communicate with each other....I found that out back of the old folks home were two large barrels for incontinance and that I was allowed to take the diapers to them.

So now, twice a week, Eileen and I wander to town with a large bag of soiled diapers. Believe it or not, they do indeed recycle soiled diapers from the elderly and babies. Apparently, they have found a way to wash away the human waste and then break the diapers into plastic and pulp components.

This is better than waiting two weeks for the trash to be picked up; and it goes to the right place. I guess here is where I say that trash here is similar but not identical to trash in the US. We put the trash into one of two carts, a smaller green cart for compostable trash and a larger black cart for everything that cannot be recycled and is not hazardous by Dutch standards. Each gets picked up on alternate Mondays (next monday is green). I think that there are stiff penalties for exceeding our trash limits, but I haven't heard that officially yet.

Now in the house -- house camping

Well;
We have been in the house for several weeks. We managed to guess right using our Dutch English dictionary, babelfish, google translate, etc. We got internet and phone service in three weeks: better than most do here! So I should be able to post more faithfully.

We borrowed some furniture from the nearest US facility: Schinnen Army Garrison. We have an institutional table and chairs, couch, two upholstered chairs that match the couch and a very firm platform bed. We also have some borrowed cutlery and plates. We did this because Ma and Pa Hirsch (Grandma and Grandpa or Ken and Carol depending on your reference frame) came to visit me. They had a 5 day visit, including our first forray into Amsterdam.

Hold baggage arrived on 30 June -- a couple days after we got the keys to the house. It contained most of the baby containment devices that we owned, plus the bare minimum for house camping.


Still no photos. I will add them when we can.

Eric works long hours, but I think he is really enjoying the challenges and opportunities of the new position. Me, I should be learning Dutch. Instead, Eileen and I manage to market, go to the butcher and baker and green grocer...and navigate pretty well.

I will continue to add to this blog as time and ideas permit. My thought right now is to start focussing on parts of life here that are new to me. Some of them are new because we are in Europe. Some are new because I have never lived someplace this rural. Some are new because I have really never been truly a military spouse until now.

Installment Two

Well, since I last wrote we took and passed the driving exam. That involved a trip to the nearest other base: Schinnen Army Garrison (which is about an hour south of us). We also got to use their commissary and their PX. A PX is a Post eXchange -- sort of a department store...if I call it PX then it is on an Army base, BX (Base eXchange) is for the Air Force. It is a small, efficient base. We met the incoming commander there, and they change command the following week from Eric.

Eric is still not the commander (that happens Monday). He is busily drinking from a fire hose and trying to learn everything by then...but handling things really well, considering.

We did a walk through of the house and will sign the lease soon. We will be allowed to move on 1 July. I have heard nothing about either shipment, but will chase that all down on Monday while Eric is busy with DVs. (Distinguished Visitors)

We went to the base from which we are Geographically Separated: Spangdahlem. I know, we are actually separated from every base...but in this case, Eric's boss actually works at Spangdahlem. This means that Eileen has now been to Belgium and Germany as well as Holland.

We visited the Dutch Officer's Mess (at their invitation) and had a lovely time.

That's all I have time for now, but our e-mail address hasn't changed!

Arrival

Eileen apparently had problems with the hotel room in C. Springs (as I discovered a couple of days before we left town). She threw up on Tuesday night and any time Wednesday when we were in the room. She stopped holding any food down, so we spent the Thursday morning before we left at the Emergency room at Evans (where she had been born) just making sure that she would be okay to travel. They gave us baby zantac -- which she hates and did absolutely no good anyway (probably the doctors proscribed it to calm us down). She threw up again the morning of the flight (when I say throw up, I mean about a two+ foot trajectory), but after the exit to the airport, all became well again.

One thing that the traveling with children books failed to mention is that they really don't understand jet lag. They are awake when they are awake. There is a limited amount we can do other than try to patiently wait for her schedule to sync with local time. The cat, Wilbur, is having similar issues. This has been hard on us both, as I have not been staying at the B&B by myself during the day. Instead, I have gone to Eric's office and sat in the chow hall or the internet cafe (which strangely has neither wireless nor coffee). Eileen and I have also gone walking and shopping together. Everyone is still on best behavior.

The B&B is lovely, but I have never seen such steep stairs. It makes getting Eileen up and down them a challenge (our bathroom is downstairs and our "room" -- which is really a sitting room, kitchenette, dining room, and a separate bedroom -- is upstairs. Our hosts are the former squadron commander two back from Eric and his Dutch wife (and two children, two dogs, and two horses (who live downstairs from us)). To understand how steep they are, picture a mountain goat, now picture Wilbur cat in that pose between two stairs. I would guess that the stairs are about 15-17 inches high for each riser. Thank goodness I only had to move Eileen and Wilbur up the stairs and the bags were grabbed by the Chief (Chief Euler), number two (Maj. McGowan), and Eric.

We have visited the current squadron commander at the home that we will start renting. I apparently had failed to understand Dutch stairs. Eric is going to build a box to cover the entrance to the stairs at the bottom - as I have yet to see a baby gate that could handle floating handrails. We have a Master bedroom on the zeroth floor and another room which we will turn into the nursery. Upstairs we will put a sitting room and two guest rooms (one with twin beds and one with a queen bed. There is also the equivalent of a 'bonus room' which I will set up as a playroom for Eileen and craft room for me. Eileen will only be allowed to be upstairs in rooms with doors that are closed. There is a rail around the upstairs landing with only horizontal slats (two of them spaced about 18-20 inches apart so that Eileen could easily slide under the lowest one and plummet down a full floor). So, mostly the upstairs will be used for guests or to watch TV. Downstairs will have our bedrooms and 1.5 bathrooms, kitchen, laundry room/mudroom, garages, a large room for dining and living....it will be very nice. This arrangement has the added bonus that I will not have to clean the upstairs as often -- effectively cutting my cleaning time in half. There are no carpets anywhere except the downstairs full bath (there is a 3/4 bath upstairs which I seem to have failed to mention) and the bonus room has indoor/outdoor carpeting. If you are planning to visit, and have stairs problems, we will be happy to move upstairs for a few days and leave you in our room...depending on Eileen's age, we will either move her upstairs with us in our room or leave her in her room on the zeroth floor. After checking around at local hotels and B&Bs, almost nothing local has rooms on the zeroth floor and only one hotel in a 10km radius from our home has bathrooms attached.

I think that we will have to visit IKEA and look at area rugs as well as a queen size platform for the pillowtop guest mattress. Also, the light fixtures at the home are about the ugliest and poorest placed of any that I have ever seen. We will ask our landlords if we can switch them out.

I have already hit the grocery store. I am still getting used to trying to figure out whether I can eat something or not (I have strong reactions to Aspartame, chamomile, lavender, MSG...), but thus far I have done quite well. Grocery costs here are similar to doing all of your shopping at Whole Foods. So far, I have failed to find anything closer in costs to a Trader Joes. I also hit the local outdoor market in Uden, which reminds me of Haymarket in Boston but more expensive and without the aggressiveness in the salesmen.

I know that you all are clamoring for pictures, but 1) we don't have many yet, 2) I don't have the correct wire to get both of the photos I have taken to my mac (I do have one to get them to Eric's computer), and 3) we are holding out until we can find mini-clogs for the baby. Seriously, we have been busy and are pretty lousy about taking pictures.

In other news, our hosts had bought a bunch of baby food for Eileen. Most said 6 months or older, but there were some biscuits that looked similar to zweibok that she was old enough to try. She smeared the 1/4 cracker that I provided all over herself, but must have ingested some. So, she has now tried food. She didn't seem so very interested to try more right now, but we may let her try it again tomorrow night. I am trying to only give her food on days where we can immediately dunk both us into the bath after the experiment.

I'll write more at some point, but have to get ready for more excitement, now. We take our USAFE required driving tests tomorrow.