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.

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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.