Breaking News! Brett Favre is retiring. Again. Let's hope this time things go a little bit more graceful.
In case you are wondering “Brett Who?”, I am talking about football. American football, of course; twenty two overdressed men and a rugby ball. With Ryan being from Wisconsin, our allegiance is to the Green Bay Packers. Wisconsinites, also known as Cheese Heads (just like the Dutch!), really love their Packers. I was THIS close to being one of those wives with a portrait of former Packers quarterback Brett Favre (it is pronounced Farve) hanging above the mantel piece, were it not for two things:
1. Brett retired last year too, and then pulled a Heintje Davids (Dutch singer who kept coming out of retirement). It turned rather ugly when the Packers didn't want him back. Very embarrassing incident in an otherwise very impressive career.
2. I no longer have a mantel piece.
Brett was relocated to the New York Jets in real life and his Packers portrait to the laundry room. He was left behind when we moved. Ryan informed me this morning the renters have relocated him again. He now resides over the stove in the kitchen. Nice and warm, albeit greasy.
To say Americans love sports is an understatement. I wonder sometimes if their love of competitive sports accounts for their competitive nature or if it is the other way around? Either way, it pales in comparison to their love of sports statistics, most of which involve Brett Favre these days. The result of a very long career.
I must admit I love to watch the game, too. (So does Lola. She walks up to the television and tells them off if they're not playing well. I think. I don't understand her but she sounds like she means it. Hand gestures and all.) I understand the basic rules and that helps a lot.
And it's fun to root for a team. I miss watching the speed skating championships in the winter and cheering on the Dutch. Even with Americans in the competition, there is just no interest here. It's not broadcasted on any of the dozens of sports channels. The only occasion I had to root for the Dutch was during last year's European Soccer Championship. Which I did, once I got into the habit of watching early in the morning.
Sunday before last was Super Bowl Sunday. No Packers though, they did not make the play-offs. (But Bruce Springsteen was there for half-time entertainment! I was happy.) The last game of the season was played by the Pittsburgh Steelers and the Arizona Cardinals. With Ryan's parents trading in Wisconsin for Arizona during the winter months, we adopted the Cardinals.
The Steelers won. They are now the Champions of the WORLD. Modesty is a vastly overrated virtue (JKG).
11 February 2009
10 February 2009
Groundhogs & Other Reliable Forecasters
I guess the Punxsutawney Groundhog, the most famous of groundhogs (no idea why), was right after all. Six more weeks of winter lie ahead of us. It was supposed to be a LITTLE snow mixed in with the rain today. At least, that is what the weather guy told us yesterday. And it was repeated on the radio this morning, on my way to work. You probably don't believe me anymore when I insist snow is rare in Western Washington, do you?
To add insult to injury, now I am sick. Because the continuous sneezing was wearing me out, I decided to make it a short workday today. That was probably a wise decision, considering the amount of snow that was coming down. Slipping and sliding I slowly made my way home. I had to make a little d-tour half way there because my car would not oblige when I wanted to make a right turn onto South Bay Road. Too much snow. Had to make a left turn instead. Or end up in a ditch.
The snow forced me to ignore every single STOP sign on the way. The downhill ones because I simply couldn't stop, the uphill ones because I needed to keep my momentum going. I am getting better at driving in the snow, though. I no longer move like a little old lady. I just keep telling myself to drive at a steady pace, not too fast, not too slow. Just pretend you're riding a bicycle through the sand. Let the car find its own way. And that works. I made it home safely.
And now I am going to bed. With a great big box of tissues to keep me company.
To add insult to injury, now I am sick. Because the continuous sneezing was wearing me out, I decided to make it a short workday today. That was probably a wise decision, considering the amount of snow that was coming down. Slipping and sliding I slowly made my way home. I had to make a little d-tour half way there because my car would not oblige when I wanted to make a right turn onto South Bay Road. Too much snow. Had to make a left turn instead. Or end up in a ditch.
The snow forced me to ignore every single STOP sign on the way. The downhill ones because I simply couldn't stop, the uphill ones because I needed to keep my momentum going. I am getting better at driving in the snow, though. I no longer move like a little old lady. I just keep telling myself to drive at a steady pace, not too fast, not too slow. Just pretend you're riding a bicycle through the sand. Let the car find its own way. And that works. I made it home safely.
And now I am going to bed. With a great big box of tissues to keep me company.
08 February 2009
Nijntje!
Twice now have I turned on the television and found myself transported back to Holland. The first time was a little over a year ago and a nasty surprise. Picture this: you're working out at the gym, pushing your own weight with your legs. You look up at the row of television-sets suspended from the ceiling, when all of sudden, without warning, Peter R. de Vries appears on screen! Dutch self-proclaimed crime solver and reporter. Very annoying man. He claimed he had solved Natalee Holloway's murder and was advertising his show during which The Truth would be revealed. Right.
Yesterday morning was a much more pleasant experience. Nijntje! Or Miffy, as she is known here. Lola loves Nijntje, we read her books frequently. She didn't feel the same about the cartoon though. After the initial happy recognition, she quickly became bored with the bunny and moved on. She doesn't care much for watching television. She prefers playing with her nipples.
Yesterday morning was a much more pleasant experience. Nijntje! Or Miffy, as she is known here. Lola loves Nijntje, we read her books frequently. She didn't feel the same about the cartoon though. After the initial happy recognition, she quickly became bored with the bunny and moved on. She doesn't care much for watching television. She prefers playing with her nipples.
07 February 2009
Who Am I?
Earlier today I went to the bank to make a deposit into my account. It's a joint account, in the names of Ryan J. and Johanna V. N. Johanna V. N. does not exist. The bank knows this. But our checks and my debit card say so anyway.
All my life I have been Hanneke van H. I was never that crazy about Hanneke but it has been a part of me since birth. My mom loves the name. I was named after my paternal grandmother and things could have been much worse. I could have been called Annie.
The Dutch tradition of giving a child a so-called 'calling name' is unknown here. I find that most Americans do not see how Hanneke has its roots in Johanna, my official name. I am not sure why. It seems obvious to me. And if you have no trouble saying Jack to someone named John, or Dick to Richard, why is Hanneke instead of Johanna so strange?
Another problem is the fact that I have two middle names. The second name rarely makes it because most automated systems only allow for one middle name. Sometimes I can squeeze an M in there, mostly I am Johanna A. Americans don't do initials only like the Dutch. They always write your first name in full. I like that.
Of course, I had to go and make things extra complicated when I got married. I hyphenated my name. I opted for Van H. - N. I should have gone for straight up N. Even remaining Van H. would have been easier than adding N. to my name. And not in front of, like the old days. No, I had to be all emancipated and attach it behind Van H. Johanna A.M. Van H. hyphen N. doesn't fit in ANY computer system.
But the greatest difficulty concerning my name is its pronunciation. Whenever I use my supermarket club card, for example, my name is printed on the receipt. The cashiers have been instructed to thank you for your business using your name.
"Thank you, Mrs..." and then it goes quiet. "How do I pronounce your name? Would you like carry-out service?"
I even changed my name on my resume to Johanna N. - Van H. Just to ensure fear of mispronouncing my name does not scare potential employers off. A thoughtful albeit unsuccessful strategy.
Mostly I go by Hanneke N. these days. And that works fine although quite a few people believe my name is Monica. I tried Johanna N. on for size once, but it didn't fit. I answered the phone with it, hoping it was an invitation for a job interview, and my sister burst out laughing on the other end. Haven't done it since. It just doesn't roll off the tongue right.
I did attempt to change my name. I went to the Social Security Office to request an official change of name. They cannot help me. Because I am a resident, not a citizen, Homeland Security has to okay it first. And since Homeland Security is not even convinced I entered my marriage in good faith - evidently having a child does not count as proof - I am not going to bother with a name change. I am too busy gathering evidence of my legitimacy.
Maybe that's the reason they are requiring additional documentation. I didn't lose Van H. and that caused suspicion. Or perhaps just confusion.
All my life I have been Hanneke van H. I was never that crazy about Hanneke but it has been a part of me since birth. My mom loves the name. I was named after my paternal grandmother and things could have been much worse. I could have been called Annie.
The Dutch tradition of giving a child a so-called 'calling name' is unknown here. I find that most Americans do not see how Hanneke has its roots in Johanna, my official name. I am not sure why. It seems obvious to me. And if you have no trouble saying Jack to someone named John, or Dick to Richard, why is Hanneke instead of Johanna so strange?
Another problem is the fact that I have two middle names. The second name rarely makes it because most automated systems only allow for one middle name. Sometimes I can squeeze an M in there, mostly I am Johanna A. Americans don't do initials only like the Dutch. They always write your first name in full. I like that.
Of course, I had to go and make things extra complicated when I got married. I hyphenated my name. I opted for Van H. - N. I should have gone for straight up N. Even remaining Van H. would have been easier than adding N. to my name. And not in front of, like the old days. No, I had to be all emancipated and attach it behind Van H. Johanna A.M. Van H. hyphen N. doesn't fit in ANY computer system.
But the greatest difficulty concerning my name is its pronunciation. Whenever I use my supermarket club card, for example, my name is printed on the receipt. The cashiers have been instructed to thank you for your business using your name.
"Thank you, Mrs..." and then it goes quiet. "How do I pronounce your name? Would you like carry-out service?"
I even changed my name on my resume to Johanna N. - Van H. Just to ensure fear of mispronouncing my name does not scare potential employers off. A thoughtful albeit unsuccessful strategy.
Mostly I go by Hanneke N. these days. And that works fine although quite a few people believe my name is Monica. I tried Johanna N. on for size once, but it didn't fit. I answered the phone with it, hoping it was an invitation for a job interview, and my sister burst out laughing on the other end. Haven't done it since. It just doesn't roll off the tongue right.
I did attempt to change my name. I went to the Social Security Office to request an official change of name. They cannot help me. Because I am a resident, not a citizen, Homeland Security has to okay it first. And since Homeland Security is not even convinced I entered my marriage in good faith - evidently having a child does not count as proof - I am not going to bother with a name change. I am too busy gathering evidence of my legitimacy.
Maybe that's the reason they are requiring additional documentation. I didn't lose Van H. and that caused suspicion. Or perhaps just confusion.
06 February 2009
The Tour - Part I
Ryan and I do not entertain much at the moment. I am sure this doesn't come as a surprise to anyone. Consequently there are not many people that have seen The Barn. I have been receiving more and more requests for pictures of the inside. Time for the Grand Tour, in petite form.
We will start off with the kitchen. We originally considered a SIEMATIC kitchen, but we changed our minds. Instead we went for a genuine 1935 Wedgewood Gas Stove, with the original spice jars included, readily converted for use with a propane tank. An awesome yard sale find!
It has four burners, an oven that we don't know how to use and two warming drawers if you can get the oven to work. I am very happy to be cooking on gas again. And I love the look of it. We think it fits the barn perfectly. It is in very good shape, considering its age. If you click on the pictures, you can take a closer look.
I found a nearly identical stove online, completely restored, and called the seller for information on the oven. I wasn't very smart about it, though. Rather than expressing an interest in buying the stove and requesting information, I explained I owned one too but did not know how the oven worked. Too honest for my own good. The seller was not very helpful. And there are not too many manuals from 1935 around anymore...
The open shelving unit serves as a pantry. Unfortunately my daughter knows exactly where on the shelves her favorite foods are (at the moment dried cranberries, multi-colored goldfish crackers, and pretzels) and simply squeezes in behind the trashcan to grab them. Of course, I have moved them out of reach, but that does not stop her from wanting them. We will at some point need to invest in closed shelves. Or cupboards.
To complete our vintage kitchen theme, we found a 1920's icebox on Ebay, made by J.B. Van Sciver, descendant of Dutch immigrants.
It leaks however, and we turned it into storage instead. Our friend Royce offered us the use of his spare fridge and freezer which we gratefully accepted. It has locks on the doors that will undoubtedly come in handy when Lola figures out how to open the fridge. She already knows, but she respects a closed door still. Not for long, I am sure.
This concludes the first part of the tour. Give us some time to reorganize and clean, and we will show you more in the near future.
We will start off with the kitchen. We originally considered a SIEMATIC kitchen, but we changed our minds. Instead we went for a genuine 1935 Wedgewood Gas Stove, with the original spice jars included, readily converted for use with a propane tank. An awesome yard sale find!
It has four burners, an oven that we don't know how to use and two warming drawers if you can get the oven to work. I am very happy to be cooking on gas again. And I love the look of it. We think it fits the barn perfectly. It is in very good shape, considering its age. If you click on the pictures, you can take a closer look.
I found a nearly identical stove online, completely restored, and called the seller for information on the oven. I wasn't very smart about it, though. Rather than expressing an interest in buying the stove and requesting information, I explained I owned one too but did not know how the oven worked. Too honest for my own good. The seller was not very helpful. And there are not too many manuals from 1935 around anymore...
The open shelving unit serves as a pantry. Unfortunately my daughter knows exactly where on the shelves her favorite foods are (at the moment dried cranberries, multi-colored goldfish crackers, and pretzels) and simply squeezes in behind the trashcan to grab them. Of course, I have moved them out of reach, but that does not stop her from wanting them. We will at some point need to invest in closed shelves. Or cupboards.
To complete our vintage kitchen theme, we found a 1920's icebox on Ebay, made by J.B. Van Sciver, descendant of Dutch immigrants.
It leaks however, and we turned it into storage instead. Our friend Royce offered us the use of his spare fridge and freezer which we gratefully accepted. It has locks on the doors that will undoubtedly come in handy when Lola figures out how to open the fridge. She already knows, but she respects a closed door still. Not for long, I am sure.This concludes the first part of the tour. Give us some time to reorganize and clean, and we will show you more in the near future.
05 February 2009
04 February 2009
Company Benefits
The advantages of working in an online store are plentiful. Flexible hours, flexible office, and every day is Casual Friday. And, if you happen to own one, you can bring your dog to work. Ryan and I are cat people, and our cat doesn't care for dogs. He therefore never accompanies me to work.However, Bello Modo has a Company Dog, Chewy. On days like today, when I am at the store all by myself because Pam and Shelly are in Arizona for two bead shows, he checks in on me on a regular basis. He is a very gentle dog, a bit needy even. A typical case of a 'my bark is worse than my bite' dog.
Until he gets a ball. Or a stick. Once he has it, he does not let go. He totally loses himself in play. You are in great danger of losing a body part, I have been told. So earlier today, when he wanted to play outside, and I wanted to be outside too on account of the glorious weather we're having (the Groundhog got it wrong, it almost feels like Spring!), I was very careful not to put my hands anywhere near his mouth. Fortunately, all you really have to do is pretend to make a move for the ball. He'll take off and run like he's being chased by the Devil. And since he's a little out of shape, he wears himself out in no-time without too much effort on my part. Which is good because I am a little out of shape too.
Afterward, Chewy passed out in his bed in the back of the store where he snored up a storm. And occasionally farted. He's such a charmer.
03 February 2009
Rough Night?
I have been going back and forth between two photos and two titles. I just can't make up my mind. So you get them both.
02 February 2009
In Sickness And In Health
My child has the sniffles. I picked her up at daycare last Thursday with a runny nose, a sore throat, and a mild fever. Aside from the copious amounts of snot coming out of her little body, her symptoms have passed. Straight onto my husband. Now he suffers from a sore throat, a mild fever, and a runny nose. Between the two of them, they have gone through four large boxes of Kleenex with Lotion in four days. The occasional complaint about his aching body notwithstanding, Ryan is dealing with it pretty well. For a guy.
Lola has been very good about it too. Until this morning. I understand me attacking her nose with a baby wipe to get the crusty bits off, was not pleasant. But every time I wiped her nose, she would have a meltdown. When I ran outside for a minute to get some firewood and wouldn't take her with me, she had a meltdown. When I turned my back to do the dishes (no small feat in the barn, I tell you), she had a meltdown. Mommy was about to have a meltdown of her own. All I wanted to do this morning was get the dishes done and start dinner before I went to work.
I finally gave up. I told Lola, in English for some reason, I had had enough and I was taking her to Carla. I would drop her off, return home and do my darn dishes in peace and quiet! When we got to Carla's house, she was happy again. Inside she took off her boots and her socks and walked up to Carla with her face tilted, inviting her to wipe her nose. After Carla had cleaned it, Lola said: "All done!" No protesting, no crying. I could not believe my eyes. The Big Faker! I told her so, too. Then I bent down to give her a kiss and say good-bye. Do you know what she said to me?
"Peace."
She gets that from her dad.
Lola has been very good about it too. Until this morning. I understand me attacking her nose with a baby wipe to get the crusty bits off, was not pleasant. But every time I wiped her nose, she would have a meltdown. When I ran outside for a minute to get some firewood and wouldn't take her with me, she had a meltdown. When I turned my back to do the dishes (no small feat in the barn, I tell you), she had a meltdown. Mommy was about to have a meltdown of her own. All I wanted to do this morning was get the dishes done and start dinner before I went to work.
I finally gave up. I told Lola, in English for some reason, I had had enough and I was taking her to Carla. I would drop her off, return home and do my darn dishes in peace and quiet! When we got to Carla's house, she was happy again. Inside she took off her boots and her socks and walked up to Carla with her face tilted, inviting her to wipe her nose. After Carla had cleaned it, Lola said: "All done!" No protesting, no crying. I could not believe my eyes. The Big Faker! I told her so, too. Then I bent down to give her a kiss and say good-bye. Do you know what she said to me?
"Peace."
She gets that from her dad.
31 January 2009
25 Random Facts
I passionately hate chain emails. Especially the ones that promise you your every wish come true if you forward the email to at least seven other people. If you don't, the opposite will happen. Your life is going to suck. Forever. Or something to that extent. I always, without fail, break the chain. Live dangerously! (Maybe that is why I am living the American Nightmare at the moment, rather than the American Dream? Hmmm...)
There is this thing currently going around on Facebook where you write 25 random facts about yourself, tag the people that are somehow connected to those random facts (and have a Facebook-account), and then it's their turn to write 25 random facts about themselves. Someone was just telling me about it earlier this week. And what do you know? I log in to Facebook and I have been tagged. It's my turn.
What do I do now? I really enjoyed Sheila's list of random facts and it seems only fair I also make an effort. But is fairness an issue here? What about my hatred of chain mail? Who do I tag? I was thinking about the following solution. I will make my list, publish it, but perhaps not tag anyone. But that's silly, really. Then it's just a list of random facts. I have my weblog for that.
Oh, what the heck...!
So, aside from despising chain emails, what other random facts can I convey about myself?
1. The only time I came close to having a pen pal was with Mats Wilander's older brother. I can't remember his name, actually I think it might be Ingmar, but my dad dubbed him Pete. Whenever there was tennis on the television, he would ask me: "Heard anything from Pete Wilander lately?" He kept this joke up for years. Long after Mats Wilander's career ended.
2. I am a firm believer in love at first sight and listening to your heart. It doesn't make for an easy path necessarily, but most definitely one worth following.
3. Because Dutch is not really the most un-useful language to be fluent in, globally speaking, I was once determined to learn Gaelic. I even went so far as to purchase the book AND the cassettes for Teach Yourself Gaelic. When I moved to the US, they didn’t make the cut.
4. I am half a thesis shy of a Master’s Degree in Cultural Anthropology. And no, I can’t finish it because the Dutch higher education system has changed and I missed my window of opportunity. I am a wanker. (Two facts for the price of one.)
5. Amsterdam will always be the most beautiful city in the world, but I do not miss it. I really love living the country life. I want to have chickens! Of course, being a mere ten-minute drive from downtown Olympia probably disqualifies us as country folk. But I can pretend.
6. I once sang Battle Hymn of the Republic on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial.
7. The day of my 40th birthday lasted 25 hours. I met Ryan that year, got married, and conceived Lola. I am not too big a fan of ‘life begins at 40’ because it ignores the previous 39 years, but I cannot dismiss this. My life as I know it began at 40.
8. I can type with ten fingers. Totally self-taught!
9. I fantasize about one day having a great big house with a wrap-around porch and having our entire family come and spend the holidays with us. I would decorate each guest room with its own Christmas tree. Very Martha Stewart.
10. My first car was a 1969 Fiat 500L. Cream colored, very cute. Until my purse was stolen I actually walked around with a picture of my car in my wallet.
11. I fall deeper in love with my daughter every day. She is the most beautiful, cutest, funniest, smartest, sweetest girl I have ever met. There is no one like her. And I am NOT prejudiced.
12. I wish I were a better photographer. More specifically I would like to do more in black & white. But having a digital camera makes me lazy. It’s so easy!
13. I haven’t seen my sister and my nephews since I left for the United States. That is far too long. They have become dudes and she has become an aunt since then. It is so cool be an aunt.
14. One of my best friends and I owe our friendship to Bruce Springsteen.
15. We were also THIS close to becoming Huey Lewis groupies. If that had actually happened, you would NOT be reading about it.
16. I have never been admitted to a hospital in my life. (Knock on wood.) I was not born in one and I did not give birth in one.
17. Last week I succumbed to the pressure of working in a bead store and purchased beads, cord, and a kumihimo disk. This is a dangerous development. It can be very costly to work in a place where you really like the merchandise and get an employee discount, as my co-worker can confirm.
18. I am eleven years, four months, and four days older than my husband. This is only apparent when we talk about music. Whether it’s about my awesome eighties record collection or Ryan lecturing me on the proper way to flip a record. “Honey, I was flipping records when you were sh***in’ your pants.” (This is not my line. This is what Ryan thinks I should have said that time, and I agree.)
19. I prefer driving a car with a stick shift, rather than an automatic. It’s just more fun that way. As long as you’re not stuck in traffic.
20. Occasionally I give in to my inner dork and google myself.
21. The most decadent thing I have ever done was fly from Amsterdam to Miami for the weekend to join three of my American Junior High School friends and celebrate our birthdays in Key West.
22. I would kill for a dishwasher. No, a washing machine. No, plumbing. No, …
23. The way Ryan and I got together is double cliché. We were set up at a wedding. Best thing that ever happened to me. Hands down.
24. To prepare for Life In The Barn, we watched Braveheart. Now those were rough times! I am pretty sure my Gaelic would have been better than Mel Gibson’s, though.
25. I do not count my blessings often enough. And they are plentiful.
Tag! You're it!
There is this thing currently going around on Facebook where you write 25 random facts about yourself, tag the people that are somehow connected to those random facts (and have a Facebook-account), and then it's their turn to write 25 random facts about themselves. Someone was just telling me about it earlier this week. And what do you know? I log in to Facebook and I have been tagged. It's my turn.
What do I do now? I really enjoyed Sheila's list of random facts and it seems only fair I also make an effort. But is fairness an issue here? What about my hatred of chain mail? Who do I tag? I was thinking about the following solution. I will make my list, publish it, but perhaps not tag anyone. But that's silly, really. Then it's just a list of random facts. I have my weblog for that.
Oh, what the heck...!
So, aside from despising chain emails, what other random facts can I convey about myself?
1. The only time I came close to having a pen pal was with Mats Wilander's older brother. I can't remember his name, actually I think it might be Ingmar, but my dad dubbed him Pete. Whenever there was tennis on the television, he would ask me: "Heard anything from Pete Wilander lately?" He kept this joke up for years. Long after Mats Wilander's career ended.
2. I am a firm believer in love at first sight and listening to your heart. It doesn't make for an easy path necessarily, but most definitely one worth following.
3. Because Dutch is not really the most un-useful language to be fluent in, globally speaking, I was once determined to learn Gaelic. I even went so far as to purchase the book AND the cassettes for Teach Yourself Gaelic. When I moved to the US, they didn’t make the cut.
4. I am half a thesis shy of a Master’s Degree in Cultural Anthropology. And no, I can’t finish it because the Dutch higher education system has changed and I missed my window of opportunity. I am a wanker. (Two facts for the price of one.)
5. Amsterdam will always be the most beautiful city in the world, but I do not miss it. I really love living the country life. I want to have chickens! Of course, being a mere ten-minute drive from downtown Olympia probably disqualifies us as country folk. But I can pretend.
6. I once sang Battle Hymn of the Republic on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial.
7. The day of my 40th birthday lasted 25 hours. I met Ryan that year, got married, and conceived Lola. I am not too big a fan of ‘life begins at 40’ because it ignores the previous 39 years, but I cannot dismiss this. My life as I know it began at 40.
8. I can type with ten fingers. Totally self-taught!
9. I fantasize about one day having a great big house with a wrap-around porch and having our entire family come and spend the holidays with us. I would decorate each guest room with its own Christmas tree. Very Martha Stewart.
10. My first car was a 1969 Fiat 500L. Cream colored, very cute. Until my purse was stolen I actually walked around with a picture of my car in my wallet.
11. I fall deeper in love with my daughter every day. She is the most beautiful, cutest, funniest, smartest, sweetest girl I have ever met. There is no one like her. And I am NOT prejudiced.
12. I wish I were a better photographer. More specifically I would like to do more in black & white. But having a digital camera makes me lazy. It’s so easy!
13. I haven’t seen my sister and my nephews since I left for the United States. That is far too long. They have become dudes and she has become an aunt since then. It is so cool be an aunt.
14. One of my best friends and I owe our friendship to Bruce Springsteen.
15. We were also THIS close to becoming Huey Lewis groupies. If that had actually happened, you would NOT be reading about it.
16. I have never been admitted to a hospital in my life. (Knock on wood.) I was not born in one and I did not give birth in one.
17. Last week I succumbed to the pressure of working in a bead store and purchased beads, cord, and a kumihimo disk. This is a dangerous development. It can be very costly to work in a place where you really like the merchandise and get an employee discount, as my co-worker can confirm.
18. I am eleven years, four months, and four days older than my husband. This is only apparent when we talk about music. Whether it’s about my awesome eighties record collection or Ryan lecturing me on the proper way to flip a record. “Honey, I was flipping records when you were sh***in’ your pants.” (This is not my line. This is what Ryan thinks I should have said that time, and I agree.)
19. I prefer driving a car with a stick shift, rather than an automatic. It’s just more fun that way. As long as you’re not stuck in traffic.
20. Occasionally I give in to my inner dork and google myself.
21. The most decadent thing I have ever done was fly from Amsterdam to Miami for the weekend to join three of my American Junior High School friends and celebrate our birthdays in Key West.
22. I would kill for a dishwasher. No, a washing machine. No, plumbing. No, …
23. The way Ryan and I got together is double cliché. We were set up at a wedding. Best thing that ever happened to me. Hands down.
24. To prepare for Life In The Barn, we watched Braveheart. Now those were rough times! I am pretty sure my Gaelic would have been better than Mel Gibson’s, though.
25. I do not count my blessings often enough. And they are plentiful.
Tag! You're it!
Mr Positive
Last night, right before we went to bed, Ryan was looking around in the barn. When I asked him what he was doing, he said he was looking at the wall, at the structure of the barn. I get that. I like to look at the structure too. It will be a shame almost to cover it up eventually.
I especially like the ceiling. The beams, the cross beams, and the studs that hold it in place. The only thing I am not too sure of, aesthetically speaking, is the ceiling boards. They say 'This Side Down' on them. Quite clearly. When I mentioned this to Ryan, he replied: "At least people will know we got it right. It would be so much worse if they said 'This side up'..."
I especially like the ceiling. The beams, the cross beams, and the studs that hold it in place. The only thing I am not too sure of, aesthetically speaking, is the ceiling boards. They say 'This Side Down' on them. Quite clearly. When I mentioned this to Ryan, he replied: "At least people will know we got it right. It would be so much worse if they said 'This side up'..."
25 January 2009
24 January 2009
Denglish
I speak Dutch with Lola, everyone else English. As a result Lola speaks Denglish. She says "ja" in Dutch but "no" in English. She says "bye-bye" in English but "hallo" in Dutch. Actually it's "hawwo." She has some difficulty pronouncing the L. She calls herself "Wowa." S’s are also pretty problematic. At least when they are located at the end of a word. She can say "I see..." but not "poes". I thought "Sandman" would be a bit ambitious so I call the cat "poes" around her. Whenever she sees him, it's "Ha poef." His cue to take off. She loves him so, he still doesn’t feel the same. Alas.
Lola repeats everything I say these days. In the morning we drink a "kopje koffie" (a cup of coffee) - well, I do, she drinks milk. She can't have coffee until she's four. But she can say it. (I don't know where the four comes from; you'll have to ask my mom about that, it’s her rule.)
We have funny conversations with each other. I told her during a diaper change "You stink," to which she replied "I know." Ryan feels I give her more credit on her language skills than she deserves. He will often ask her silly questions just to emphasize that her answering the question correctly does not mean she actually understands it. He claims she says "Ja" to everything.
"Are you going to climb the Empire State Building?"
"Ja."
"Are you going to party with your friends?"
"Ja."
"Is dad funnier than mom?"
"No."
My girl cracks me up.
When she drops something or makes a mess, it’s "Oh Lola!" In a painfully high pitch. When she finds something it's "A-ha!", "Boing..." when she falls. "All done," she'll declare when she's had enough of whatever it is she's doing or eating. Occasionally, when I point out there's a big pile of food on the table rather than on her plate, she'll act all surprised. Where did that come from? We are currently working on "I love you."
"I wuv you."
"I lllllllllove you."
"I wuv you."
Those darn L’s.
For a long time I was convinced Lola's first words would be "Bless you" because of the amount of sneezing going on in our house. No. When she started talking, she said the usual first words for a child; da-da, ma-ma, aardbei (Dutch for strawberry). But this morning, when I sneezed, she said it. It may sound different than when I say it, but I heard it loud and clear.
Ah-choo.
"Bwev you."
Lola repeats everything I say these days. In the morning we drink a "kopje koffie" (a cup of coffee) - well, I do, she drinks milk. She can't have coffee until she's four. But she can say it. (I don't know where the four comes from; you'll have to ask my mom about that, it’s her rule.)
We have funny conversations with each other. I told her during a diaper change "You stink," to which she replied "I know." Ryan feels I give her more credit on her language skills than she deserves. He will often ask her silly questions just to emphasize that her answering the question correctly does not mean she actually understands it. He claims she says "Ja" to everything.
"Are you going to climb the Empire State Building?"
"Ja."
"Are you going to party with your friends?"
"Ja."
"Is dad funnier than mom?"
"No."
My girl cracks me up.
When she drops something or makes a mess, it’s "Oh Lola!" In a painfully high pitch. When she finds something it's "A-ha!", "Boing..." when she falls. "All done," she'll declare when she's had enough of whatever it is she's doing or eating. Occasionally, when I point out there's a big pile of food on the table rather than on her plate, she'll act all surprised. Where did that come from? We are currently working on "I love you."
"I wuv you."
"I lllllllllove you."
"I wuv you."
Those darn L’s.
For a long time I was convinced Lola's first words would be "Bless you" because of the amount of sneezing going on in our house. No. When she started talking, she said the usual first words for a child; da-da, ma-ma, aardbei (Dutch for strawberry). But this morning, when I sneezed, she said it. It may sound different than when I say it, but I heard it loud and clear.
Ah-choo.
"Bwev you."
20 January 2009
Hail To The Chief
With tears in my eyes I am watching history being made as I write this. Barack Obama's inauguration as the 44th President of the United States stirs up strong emotions. The election of the first African-American president is a 'gloriously wonderful' event as I overheard a woman say to a reporter this morning. It inspires, brings joy, and gives hope. It makes me believe that change is possible, that adversity can be overcome. I am so very proud of my new country.
But the most wonderful part is that this is Lola's normal. And that is as it should be. And to prove just how normal; while watching television this morning, she spit up on me, fell off a chair, and fought me ferociously during a diaper change. Life is good.
But the most wonderful part is that this is Lola's normal. And that is as it should be. And to prove just how normal; while watching television this morning, she spit up on me, fell off a chair, and fought me ferociously during a diaper change. Life is good.