Seasons Greetings, Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays...the joy of a Christmas card.

So, this week I have been frantically writing Christmas cards for our friends & family around the world...you know the scene, some crooning cool yule music playing, a glass of mulled wine by your side, cards scattered in confusion on the table, annoying card glitter on your hands and face and frantic phone calls to family to make sure that Great Aunt Sybil is still alive! Why? Why, I ask myself, am I spending a fortune on cards, that get (hopefully) recycled in January, and spending enough money on stamps to help a small country's debt just to say Merry Christmas to my husbands relatives that I haven't seen since we got married, friends that never even email the rest of the year and people that we met in birthing classes? Bah humbug, grumble, grumble.

We all do it, don't we? We spend time choosing the perfect card, a cutesy snowman or Santa, a snow scene sparkling with glitter or an image of a humble stable for people, many of whom, we have no other contact with the rest of the year. Also, if you live in the free world, there's the added dilemma of the photo card, what photo should I pick this year....my cats, the kids, a summer scene from our Caribbean vacation to make them jealous? Then, if you have friends in the USA, comes the question...are we allowed to say Merry Christmas? Should we say Happy Holidays or Season's Greetings just in case we offend the  mailman's political correctness? Yes, we do have the joy of sending that awful tasteless card at the bottom of the box to the friend that always sends you a personally embossed gold card, but thats not in the spirit of the season. Is it?

The Germans were the inventors of the earliest form of a Christmas card in the 14th century but the Victorians were the enthusiasts and the ones we should blame. In 1853 the first director of the V & A museum in London, Sir Henry Cole, created a standard seasonal greeting card for his friends and family and then the commercialism began! Those early cards cost one shilling ( a mans wages) so I guess he had to decide ...."a card for Auntie Ethel or dinner for Tiny Tim?" In 1840 the British postal service began & mailing became cheaper and so the tradition of card sending became affordable... and the glitter industry went into full production!

Sir Henry Cole's first card.

This year I will cut down The List, I told myself....gone are the friends from before the kids were born, out the friends that I haven't heard from the rest of the year & goodbye cousins that I never liked as a child anyway! So began the "vetting process." Hmmm, well she hasn't emailed me back since my last Christmas email, who is this person, the neighbor from 1988, etc. As I sat there I found I was unable to delete many people from that list. OK, they aren't part of my life now but they were are all part of my past & that is still important to me, and yes, maybe, the sentimental Christmas songs got to me! The cards with the news attached are important. I want to know what Mabel's kids are doing and who has grandchildren, how life is treating them, where they are moving to, even down to who's dog/horse/hamster has passed away. This information gleaned from the small note scribbled on the back or, in some cases, the mass production of a family newspaper is nice to know, and yes, there maybe a little gloating sometimes! Oh my gosh....Fred's daughter married that guy?

Therefore my list remains intact, a written testament to my past; the friends and family that remain part of my life, albeit a yearly hello. I shall continue to write my news letters and cards, surrounded by piles of grinning Santa faces and snowmen, with glitter sprinkled liberally on my hands, hair and cats, Nat King Cole singing in the background. With my very large glass of mulled wine I'll raise it and toast Sir Henry Cole, "Thanks Henry, without you I would have less friends and family... but more money!"

Wishing you all a glittering Merry Christmas/ Happy Holidays/ Vrolijk Kerstfeest/ Froehliche Weihnachten/ God Jul

http://www.history.uk.com/christmas/christmas-card-history/

Roaming Solo

This weekend I had the opportunity to travel to Paris with my husband who was working there. "Oh, you can come," he replied when asked, "but you'll be on your own all day." As if that was something new! So armed with a quote from my much loved Dr. Seuss, “Things may happen and often do to people as brainy and footsy as you,”  I set off on another adventure, this time in the wonderful city of Paris.

Tai Chi ~ Palais de Luxembourg

 Saturday started out sunny so I walked, wandering the streets with camera in hand. We were staying in the 14th arrondissement, a walk of about 30-40 minutes into the city centre. As I wandered I saw the Parisians walking home with purpose armed with their baguettes; saw children cycling to music lessons, instrument cases on their backs  and in the Jardin du Luxembourg, gardens once walked by Marie de Medici and now a favorite park of the locals, jogging/kickboxing/tai chi' all being enjoyed in the autumn sun. From that park full of life worshipping I went to the Pantheon, an old church where the distinguished French go to be buried....Voltaire, Victor Hugo, Alexander Dumas, Marie Curie, Braille, just to name a few and I was reminded of how many of the worlds great thinkers came from France.

Being a solo tourist is fine but there are times when you wish you could turn to someone and share a moment....such as when I saw this wonderful sculpture in the Pantheon of three women. It made me smile as I immediately thought of the phrase, "talk to the hand." I so dearly wanted to share this moment with someone but had to content myself with a private giggle.

Talk to the hand ~ The Pantheon

But my experience as a lone wander became more powerful when I decided to join a "free" walking tour in the afternoon. As I stood surrounded by strangers the lady next to me commented on the weather and so a conversation started. 

Her: "Where are you from?"

Me: "The UK, lived in the US for 12 years, now live in the Netherlands, and you?"
Her: " From Canada"
Me: "Whereabouts?"
Her: "Toronto"
Me: "Oh, one of my dearest friends lives there, in The Beaches"
Her: " Oh! I live there!"
Me: " Do you know Willow Ave?"
Her: "Yes"
Me: "My friend is called Bett Cole," 
Her: "You have got to be kidding me....I know Bett...she has two dogs?"   
Me: "OMG...this never happens....to actually know a person! Wow!"

We took the tour for awhile, until the rain grew too heavy to enjoy it and then ended up having lunch together. So I rounded off my wanderings chatting with a new acquaintance, in a warm cafe in Paris, over a bowl of steaming onion soup. What a great story to tell and one that would maybe not have happened if I had had a travel partner that day. We focus on each other and not on the people around us usually. This lady was a bonus as she was also interesting, a professional blogger who wrote about traveling solo.

www.solotravelerblog.com

Pont des Arts

I have other tales of interesting people I have met whilst traveling alone...although meeting someone who knows a dear friend is a first! There is the lovely young Siberian girl that I spent an hour with, on the train traveling to Munich, who was meeting her English boyfriend in Switzerland; the circus performer I met on a train going to London, and an Australian teacher I met on a walking tour of Munich. My husband has many such tales, being a solo traveler through his job. He has become friends with a woman from Las Vegas, who was traveling with her daughter, and who's photo he took in Paris...they remain in touch, and we are friends with someone in the Netherlands who's brother-in-law is a pilot with an American airline, alongside another friend of ours. 

Sunday was not a day full of amazing coincidences...well, I can't be greedy! But it was a day of more solo exploration, with a walk to Notre Dame where I stood and listened to the bells being rung for mass and pictured Disney's hunchback swinging from the ropes, a walk up the Seine to admire the bridges and Parisians taking their Sunday stroll in the sunshine and then a visit to the Musee d'Orsay. Again I missed a companion to share the wonder of the impressionist paintings surrounding me, but made do with a some quiet "wows." Martin joined me at the end of the day, before starting our journey home to the Netherlands, and we made time to watch the illuminations on the Eiffel Tower, surely one of the most iconic buildings in the world.

What did I take away from my weekend in Paris.....other than a baguette, memories of some delicious meals and the desire to return soon. I was reminded that the world is becoming smaller and that reaching out to the person next to you can provide a wonderful lunch companion or a long term friend. So next time someone smiles at you ( and you feel safe!) smile back...you never know where it'll take you or who you may meet!

A sparkling Eiffel Tower

 

Burning effigies to blacking faces....we are so un-PC!

Recently, in the Netherlands, there has been much debate about the practice of having a 'blackened faced" man as Santa's little helper and it has led me to ponder on this and a few other traditions that may not fall under the term "politically correct."

Sinterklaas with Zwarte Piets arrive in Heusden, NL

For those of you not familiar with the Dutch tradition of Zwarte Piet, let me enlighten you. Sinterklaas, the Dutch Santa Claus, arrives in the Netherlands in mid November from Spain by steam-boat, accompanied by his black-faced Moorish slave, Piet. To celebrate Sinterklaas' arrival on his white horse the Dutch, & Belgians, all welcome Piet & Sinterklaas by singing and dressing their children up like Zwarte Piet, complete with blackened faces. They are then rewarded by candy thrown to them by Zwarte Piet and his many, also blacked faced, helpers. Bear in mind that all of these "Piets" are actually white & coated with black makeup with painted red lips and afro hair wigs. Nowadays the "PC" families tell their children his face his black because of his exploits in the chimney but there is much debate every year about the racist aspect of this "blackened faced" slave. This year the UN became involved when a member commented on the slave angle of this tradition. The Dutch are divided on this issue and the racist/not racist debate continues, not least of all in my home. It is a strange throwback to a time past that, understandably, some find offensive especially as a "fifth of the Dutch population consists of people of color" according to the UK paper the Guardian. We'll wait to see how this custom survives or changes in the future.

http://www.theguardian.com/world/2012/dec/05/black-pete-race-netherlands

This debate made me wonder about many of our traditions, that are based in events from history that we, if we looked clearly at, might think are a little politically in-correct these days! Take for example the British tradition of Guy Fawkes and Bonfire Night. When you begin to explain this to non-Brits you begin to realize that it could portray us in a slightly odd way! Here we go.... James I was a Protestant king and the Catholics were not happy, they wanted a Catholic monarch. Guy Fawkes and his friends decided to blow up the Houses Of Parliament along with the king in 1605 in order to put their choice of leader on the throne...a nine year old girl! (No, her name was not Hermione!) Fawkes was a soldier with knowledge of gunpowder (ironically learned whilst fighting the Dutch in the Eighty Years war!) and planted 36 barrels under the Parliament buildings but whilst waiting to "light the blue touch paper and retire"was caught, after someone in the government received an anonymous message. During torture, (presumably the threat of being made to watch Prime Minister's Question Time), he revealed all and his fellow revolutionaries were rounded up and "hung, drawn and quartered." To celebrate this capture we now dress up a scarecrow as a "Guy" place him on a bonfire, set fire to him and light fireworks. So, yes, the British, it would seem, celebrate by burning a Catholic! Try explaining that to the Pope!

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/blogs-magazine-monitor-24818807

I guess the celebration of Christopher Columbus Day in the USA is a little controversial given that he "In fourteen hundred ninety-two Columbus sailed the ocean blue," but did not discover the New World (that was Leif Erikson) and never even set foot in North America, he was more of a Caribbean island hopper. Despite the rum punch and lazing about on the beaches, he didn't actually embrace the chilled island mentality but brutally killed and destroyed many native people. Not really an icon to celebrate either!

I am left wondering what other international traditions are similarly controversial. Is there a Viking pillager that has a national day in Norway, a convict that is celebrated in Australia or a past mafioso in Italy that gives candy out to children? It leaves me with this question, what character will future generations adopt from our culture.....and will it be "PC"?

Flights of Fancy

Do you remember when flying was enjoyable?  Really it was not that long ago!

Admittedly I am not old enough to have flown when flying was like this but I remember, not to far back, my children being given "goody bags," Virgin staff coming around with free ice creams and bars of chocolate, and those wonderful moments when you were able to dip your toes in to the world of the privileged and a get an upgrade! 

Now living in Europe I get to experience the delights of Ryan Air, Whizz Air & Easy Jet....no upgrades there! For those of you living outside of Europe you probably haven't experienced the joy of flying with these companies. Yes, the flights are cheap...if your carry-on is, “Strictly one item of cabin baggage per passenger (excluding infants) weighing up to 10kg with maximum dimensions of 55cm x 40cm x 20cm.” They are not joking, no other hand luggage, no tiny purse or handbag, no camera, no laptop...everything must be in the one bag. Ryan Air & Whizz Air even weigh those carry-ons; if they are overweight then you must remove items so you meet the weight requirement...if not you face a charge of €60. What do you do with the items? Tuck them in your pockets of course! Bizarrely, items carried in your pockets become weightless & do not affect the load the plane is carrying! This phenomenon has caused this creation of the famous Ryan Air coat, a design classic!

So here's the scene at the airport as you are about to board.... you see women ramming their bags inside the suitcase, glancing around surreptitiously to see if they are allowed to carry that book or magazine, sitting on cases to close them and people with huge bodies under coats bulging with extra sweaters and the odd hairdryer. I have, I admit, been forced to wear multiple layers of clothing on the flight just so I could pass the carry-on inspection! Those Ryan Air guys are not called "The Bag Nazis" for nothing!

Oh by the way, did I mention that there is no assigned seating on some of these airlines so once the Bag Nazis have passed you by, you then have to stand in line waiting for the plane to arrive, running shoes on, elbows out, ready for the signal that they will board you now. Then you are off, running down the straight, the crowds cheering you on, cameras flashing, the gold medal within your sights...oh, wait, that was the Olympics! Of course this is only if you want to sit together with your traveling companion or child, or desperately want your lightweight, dimension correct luggage to fit in the overhead bins. Doesn't it sound fun?

Of course long haul flights are not like this, but sadly the need for heightened security these days has meant that security checks are stressful if you are not a frequent traveller. I am a seasoned flier and dress accordingly....no belt, slip-on shoes, no heavy jewellery, no scarf, lap-top easily accessible, pockets free of change. Of course I always seem to stand by the person that has all of these things and needs five plastic trays in which to unload...& they always have liquids over 100mls!

Flying a plane costs money and, as we are aware, airlines are struggling to stay afloat! So the free chocolates and kids "goody bags" are gone and legroom on a plane seems to get less and less as they cram more seating in. I experienced a passengers response to this recently and it was not fun! Halfway through my flight from Boston to Amsterdam, I had watched my movie and eaten my delicious dinner so decided I would try to get a little sleep...I know, next to impossible but we are ever optimistic! I reclined my seat ready to cuddle down when all of a sudden the woman behind me started yelling at me, poking my arm through the gap & punching the back of my seat! "You can't do that, I have no space, put your seat up," she ranted. I turned to her and said, "I am sorry but I am going to sleep," "No, you are not allowed, I have no room." I quietly explained she should complain to the airlines but that I was going to recline my seat, only to be shouted at and told that she wouldn't let me sleep but would continue to thump the seatback! By this time other passengers were looking sympathetically at me...Oh no, she's got the nutter on the bus, and my husband was about to go all "Jethro Gibbs" on her! I was beginning to get nervous, what if she freaked out and took me hostage over seat space. I could see it in the news, "Woman held at plastic spoon point on Delta flight to Amsterdam." The flight attendant came to rescue me and explained that I was allowed to recline my seat the three inches but this passenger was not having it and continued to shout that she would not let me! Being, by this time, scared that she was a maniac, I offered to donate those precious three inches to her. "No," the attendant told me, "you must recline if you want to." Finally, the Purser came to bear on the crazy lady and she, after several minutes of shouting, was either sedated secretly with a blow-dart or just realized that she was looking at flying in restraints the rest of the way. I stayed reclined, with my hand on the call-bell, looking over my shoulder out of one eye, waiting for something to hit me on the head and unsurprisingly never did sleep! It was a ridiculous fuss over three inches but we have all been there, when that seat looms into our tiny area making it almost impossible to use the table and the movie screen is so close that its out of focus. Fortunately most of us don't have a tantrum about it, and if we do our traveling partner, aka husband, usually bears the brunt of it!

Flying used to be part of the travel adventure you were setting out on...the pre thrill, the taste of exotic exploits, the sumptuous ribbon around the gift of globe-trotting. Now, it seems to be, in many cases, the  nasty tasting medication you must take in order to experience the thrills of excursions. So please take note of the closest usable exit, be aware of falling bags when opening the overhead bins, look for the person with a sweat coated face with eight sweaters on, practice your running start when booking a flight on Ryan Air and, most importantly, check there is not a deranged woman sitting immediately behind when reclining your seat. We thank you for flying with us today and hope you have a safe onward journey!  

Home is where the heart is.....

Home is where the heart is, or so they say, but what do you do when your heart is spread between different places?

I asked myself this recently on a trip back to Massachusetts, our home for 12 years. As we flew over Cape Ann and Boston Harbor my heart swelled...we were going home. As is often the case for ex-pats you never think that the place where you have relocated will be home but somehow, over those 12 years,  Massachusetts & most particularly the North Shore, crept under our radar and here we were, longing for "home."

Fall colors in New England

What makes a "home"? Of course, our house was home because of my husband and two children but it took sometime for the area to feel like home. What made it home? Mostly the friends we made there, friends who, when you are far from home, become family, those people who are there for you in a crisis, big or small. But also the familiarity of a place, a comfort level....the stores and restaurants you know and like (Border Cafe...oh how I miss a good Mexican meal!), the haunts that please you and make you smile (Cranes Beach and Plum Island....and of course the fall colours!), the humor that you recognize and the laughter with like-minded people. On my visit to Massachusetts I reveled in the familiar sights, took pleasure in the laughter and time with friends, enjoying the collective memories that we share. Those afternoons catching up with friends,strolling on the beach or even the wandering around the mall  replenished my soul, although, in the case of the mall, emptied my wallet! .

Cranes Beach, Massachusetts

But then we are also British and my heart also lies in England, home of my birth. I am a Brit first (cut me in half and you will find the Union flag), American second and my family all reside in the UK so my heart is also at home there. I feel the joy when I drive through the English countryside; the rolling chalk hills of Wiltshire, the quaint Cotswold cottages and enjoy a "pint" of beer in the quintessential English pub. That I am able to go home so easily from the Netherlands is fantastic, and allows me that much needed time with family.

Castle Coombe, Wiltshire, UK

 I've not developed the feeling that I have planted a little piece of my heart in the Netherlands yet, but who knows? Given the fact that everything grows well here and the Dutch are the kings of cow-poop fertilizing I can't imagine that at sometime, some tiny heart tendrils won't push into the soil and take root, leaving me with yet another home, that holds a piece of me.

Having homes in different countries add a dilemma sometimes. I felt the British national pride during the Queens Jubilee celebrations and the Olympics, but was thrilled to be able to vote for President Obama as a new US citizen. Who to shout for in the World Cup? England, the USA or the Netherlands? Another circumstance from having homes in multiple places are the foods that you miss....the US trips home always supply me with huge bags of chocolate chips for cookies and the wish that Cape Cod chips travelled well! The UK...well, teabags of course and Marmite! When I leave the Netherlands eventually, I am sure I'll yearn for stroopwafels made by hand, from the guy at s'Hertogenbosch market and Dutch fries with mayo!

Being an ex-pat can be heartbreaking at times; missing family and old friends, saying goodbye to other international friends as they leave for new pastures, and leaving much loved pastures. However it can be rewarding, fulfilling and life-expanding too....and you may always find yourself leaving just a little piece of your heart behind.

Parenthood....the best job in the world?

“But kids don't stay with you if you do it right. It's the one job where, the better you are, the more surely you won't be needed in the long run.” 
― Barbara Kingsolver, Pigs In Heaven

London was our destination this weekend and man, did we pack in a lot! I challenge anyone to not want to soak up as many things as possible in that vibrant city. A visit to the National Portrait Gallery fed the artistic soul. What amazing paintings are massed there, telling of the history of our nation from Queen Elizabeth I to the wonderful Dame Judy Dench. Then the opera, Paul Bunyan, to celebrate Benjamin Britten's centenary, performed by the British Youth Opera (and stage managed by our daughter) to the other side of the music theatre world with the stage version of Dirty Dancing. Our quest for knowledge was partially quenched by a visit to the British Museum, where I defy anyone to be able to see everything in a day! Our visit was rounded off by a long autumnal walk through Battersea Park, with it's stunning Peace Pagoda, and along the Thames Path, from Battersea to the London Eye, gazing across at the Houses of Parliament bathed in sunshine, a glowering cloudy sky massing behind. Portentous? Peace and politics...an oxymoron?

This weekend I realized with concrete certainty that my daughter does not really need me much anymore, and I find myself a little discombobulated but feeling immensely rewarded at the same time! This awareness has been hovering at the edge of my world for some time, but this week it has come in to crisp focus. We were able to see her in her world, as Deputy Stage Manager at the British Youth Opera, in London's West End, meet her friends, be led by her around the city she has come to know & now are watching her arrange to move in to an apartment with two friends. Stop! My little girl is officially becoming a London dweller? How did that happen? Wasn't it only yesterday that she was playing with her Barbie house and now she is moving in to one of her own! 

Patting ourselves on the back, we congratulate ourselves on having brought up a plucky, independent, almost self-sufficient young woman, who has completed college and equipped herself with a BA Hons. Stage Management degree. Wow! All that stress and therapy was totally worth it....my nervous drinking habit is now under control and those teenage years, rather like childbirth, are fading into obscurity. But,  we have also learned from both our children. Thom has taught us to love jazz, and to care about our world and Becky has introduced us to choral music, opera and theatre, and has shown us the meaning of "true grit." Parenting is a tough job but the rewards far outweigh the troubles, so when your toddler challenges you or your teenage daughter tells you she doesn't need you at the mall, or your son scrapes the car, revel in their determined attitude and savor the moment when your son realizes he is not indestructible. Those, and other characteristics will take them far in life and once you've been discharged from your therapist and the AA sessions have finished  you can sit back and  revel in the quiet home and the knowledge that they know how to survive in our modern world and how to put oil in the car and use the washer....hopefully!

The Lost Art Of Correspondence

This summer has been filled with visiting family and friends, and travel back and forth to the UK. It has been full of chatter, reconnection and laughter.....how wonderful!

I've had friends from the USA and Canada stop by for a few days on their European vacations, old friends and sisters, son and daughter, all spending time with us, chatting about their lives, the world and its problems, books we have enjoyed and the movies we would recommend. Laughter rang out, advice was given and all our lives, hopefully not just mine, enriched by the experience.

One of the things that came out of these conversations is how Facebook has stopped us from writing letters or emailing a more complete overview of our lives. I am a Facebook fan, it allows me to keep in touch with family and friends, to see their children go off to kindergarten or college, to share the joy in a new birth or revel in the photos of a wonderful vacation. But I have come to realize that those two line comments aren't communication, and that friends who have chosen not to "join the herd" and join Facebook are not so involved in my life nor I in theirs, and have now made a plan to start emailing and mailing letters to friends occasionally.

Correspondence is a lost art. When was the last time you received a letter in the mail that wasn't from your child's Student Loan company or a flyer from National Geographic? How delightful was it when you saw a letter on your doormat, or in your mailbox, addressed to you from a dear friend or loved family member! I cherish a letter my grandmother sent me after she had visited Martin and I way back in the mid-80's and heartily regret not printing out the long chatty emails my dad used to send when we first moved to the USA. What will future generations refer to when there are no love-letters or letters from parents to children, full of sage advice. My mother-in-law still has the letters my father-in-law wrote from his tank in Germany in the 1940's....I think the only note I have from my husband is a shopping list! My future grandchildren will have to surmise the romance from the list of teabags, trash bags, Tanqueray gin and a copy of Top Gear magazine! (Maybe this comment will inspire a love letter of Robert Browning proportions!) Martin has just read a book called Dear Lupin: Letters to a Wayward Son by Roger Mortimer and one of my favorite websites is Letters Of Note http://www.lettersofnote.com/  It has some fabulous, insightful letters from  people from the past and the present that have me nodding my head at the astute advice or laughing at the humor. What a lost art letter writing is and how it explains the times in which it is written, for example the love letter written by Henry VIII to Anne Boleyn or the letters written by John and Abigail Adams, during the US War of Independence.

So, dear friends and family, listen out for the sound of a letter dropping on the mat, or the "thrumm" of the mailman's van and I shall do the same. I'm off right now to the stationers to buy paper and envelopes and a copy of Top Gear magazine! As Goethe once said, "Letters are among the most significant memorial a person can leave behind them." 

We'll whether the weather.

Whether the weather be cold, or whether the weather be hot, we'll whether the weather, whatever the weather, whether we like it or not,

This is a childhood tongue-twister that was brought to mind recently by the very un-Dutch summer weather we've been experiencing. Temperatures in the high 20's celsius to the 30's (80-90F to some of us) has found me melting in a shady spot, fondly remembering those days in Massachusetts when we would spend the afternoon at the mall, just for the A/C! Oh, how I miss those rattling, old, window air-conditioning units that I used to nobly refuse to use, unless it was so hot I could fry a piece of bacon on the countertops, in my quest to be green.

Anyone new to living in northern Europe finds the idea of no air conditioning bizarre and, dare I say it, uncivilized. "I stayed in a London hotel and had no A/C!" I once heard a surprised American gentleman explain, as if  this was equal to brown water pouring from the taps. Yes, there are times when arctic air blasting around the house would be greeted with unbridled enthusiasm but summers when it's needed are few and far between. I do remember summers as a child, when we would listen to Wimbledon on the radio whilst sat in our paddling pool, and can remember clearly my mum ironing outside but recently those type of summers have been rare.

As northern Europeans we are not prepared for any extremes of temperature, we live in a temperate climate, which means, "marked by moderation; keeping or held between limits; not extreme or excessive" according to Miriam Webster's dictionary, but they also say, "moderate in indulgence of appetite, desire and use of alcoholic beverages" so they have obviously never met a Brit or a Dutchman!

Our handling of extreme heat is a little worrying.....imbibing huge quantities of cold beer ~ OK, thats not so bad; exposing "never before touched by the sun" corpse-white bodies in public places ~ this can be very unpleasant for observers and also for the owner the next day; the strange need to open all the windows and curtains to let the hot air into the house; the idea that jogging at midday in 90F will be fine ~ causing the EMT's to scrape yet another fitness junky into the back of the ambulance, and the desire to stand over a hot, smoky barbecue and burn meat.

Having just read in the news that we are set for another heatwave in the coming week I thought I'd share some survival tips ~
* Don't take a cold shower, this will just close your pores and make it difficult to sweat. Take a tepid shower instead.
* Avoid alcohol! It dehydrates you more. Drink water.
* Eat small meals &, apparently, spicy food, which makes you sweat more, so cooling you down.
* Eat frozen yogurt instead of ice cream, it contains more water so helps with rehydration.
* Keep the curtains drawn.
* Keep a damp cloth in the freezer to use when you are hot.
* Put your sheets in the refrigerator a couple of hours before going to bed.
* Lick your wrists or run cold water over them, it helps cool the blood.
* Don't jog/exercise/ride a bike in the heat of the day.
* Wear lightweight, light colored clothes.
* Take care of pets, senior citizens and young children.
* Use fans to keep air circulating

So, in the next few days you can find me laying down in my darkened living room, having a small curry whilst repeatedly licking my wrists, wrapped in my chilled sheets looking like Lawrence Of Arabia, with a large sweating glass of water (next to my very cold beer), watching Fargo and remembering those cold, icy days of winter that we all complained about, with gale force winds blowing around me from the fans stationed around the room!

Come on...without the weather what would we talk to our neighbors about!
Keep cool!

The State Of Independence

I recently celebrated the Fourth Of July, or the USA's Independence Day, here in the Netherlands and was struck by the incongruity of the whole event. There we were, a group of American Ex-Pats (plus one rather oddly bi-partisan British couple!) celebrating the US's most important holiday in a garden in the Netherlands on the 6th of July! We had burgers, cupcakes, red, white & blue bunting and patriotic clothing a-plenty and the sense of being 'home' surrounded us. It made me ponder on the importance of our national traditions and how we all manage, somehow, to gouge out a place wherever we are living, that resembles our homeland.

While I lived in the USA Queen Elizabeth II celebrated her Golden Jubilee and the yearning to be in the UK and part of those patriotic celebrations was overwhelming. The few Brits in the Ex-Pat group I then belonged to banded together, in the hope that we could forge a little piece of the fervor for ourselves, thousands of miles away. We had planned races on the beach, a ceremony of Jubilee mug presentation to the children and a truly British picnic complete with bunting & Union Jack paper napkins. I was heartbroken when the day was cold & grey, the only one that summer in Massachusetts, and we ended up eating our picnic in and around the cars, and no races or presentations as the beach was closed by the lifeguards, because of thunderstorms rolling around. Then some wise person said, "We wanted a British day....and we have got one!!"

Since moving to the Netherlands I have celebrated a Royal Wedding, the Olympics and a Thanksgiving Dinner and hopefully soon a royal baby. My neighbors are very confused by the constant changing of flags at our house..."Are they British or American?" they murmur. So, what holidays do other nationalities take with them around the world? The Scots celebrate Burns Night where ever they are, and I guess the Dutch coat everything around them in orange once a year. Do the French celebrate Bastille Day in their ex-pat communities, or the Indians their Independence Day? We know that Oktoberfest makes it in many countries & we all become German on those days! I know of friends that have celebrated the Dutch Queens Day in Italy and others who have held a Royal Baby Shower in the USA. We are adept at shaping our environment to suit ourselves, down to scouting out those vital party goods such as Oreo cookies, Pimms and haggis.

Maybe the world's ex-pats should create an International Day for all of us to join in and celebrate. It could involve an outfit of red, white, blue and orange, cupcakes decorated with kangaroos and maple leaves, lassi and whiskey to drink, wurst with congee, games of cricket and baseball (Crickball?), and the singing of the international anthem "We Are the World"! I would definitely sign up for that party!

A Few of My Favorite Things

Books and movies are a "few of my favorite things" and recently I have become aware just how big an impression these can have, whether you realize it or not. Take for instance my recent trip to Austria where I visited Salzburg & the UK, where I visited locations for world famous movies.

In Salzburg you can barely walk down the street without tripping over a Maria, or someone singing "Doh Re Mi" all due to the 1965 movie of The Sound Of Music. Yes, I admit I had wanted to visit the city partly because of this much loved movie and it did not disappoint. The first evening there we sat in the setting sun at a Stiegl beer house, sipping that amber delight when suddenly all the thirty five churches began to ring their bells and I was transported into a "Maria moment"! So, it would seem I am as bad as all the other Maria wannabe's and from then on decided to embrace that geeky side of myself and enjoy! The Sound Of Music tour was booked and I threw myself, and my moderately reluctant husband, into the Von Trapp world of Salzburg. What a beautiful city! Dissected by the Salzach river, so named as it was once used to transport salt, with the towering medieval fortress of Hohensalzburg protecting the old city and the Alps wrapping around the valley bringing to mind another favorite book, Heidi, the city of Salzburg is breathtaking on a sunny day.

I wanted to dance along the streets with a guitar, splash my hands in the fountain with "Confidence" and skip around a gazebo but I managed to hold it together and enjoy the city for its other attributes which, of course, include being the birthplace of Mozart. We did take the guided tour which although took us to all the sites from the movie Sound Of Music, sadly included the most boring individuals to ever take a SOM tour! Where were my dear friends Mary & Helen...they would have sung high on a hill with "A Lonely Goatherd" if we could have found one!  We ended up, after a beautiful tour of the local lakes area, on the steps of the Mirabell Palace Gardens and I could contain the urge no more. Out came "Doh a Deer" as I attempted to reenact the scene...in my head I encapsulated Maria perfectly! I'm not sure what the other tourists felt!
                                                                                  

Interestingly the basic storyline of SOM was not to too different from the actual story, just a little "Hollywoodized." Maria was a nun and did become the wife of Georg Von Trapp, she was a tutor to his eldest daughter who was bedridden with Scarlet Fever, one of 11 children, and did sing with them. They did hide in a cemetery and then escape, but to Italy by train..."climbing every mountain" would have led them into Germany! Not so romantic boarding a train I guess. 

The real Von Trapp family.

My other experience of the power of books and movies was in England more recently when I visited the Harry Potter Studio Tour in Watford. I was struck, as we entered Hogwarts Great Hall, by the looks on all the delighted faces around me...people of my age who had introduced their children to Harry Potter, young men and women of my son's and daughter's age who had grown up with him to the small children who had only known the magic through the movies. How wonderful that a series of books could have such an impact on childhood. Has there ever been any other book that has the same significance to a generation, and that set the spark to the flame of the love of reading? There are few people that you meet that don't know the term "Muggle" or "Expelliarmus." How other writers must yearn to find that special magic that JK Rowling found!

Entering Hogwarts

It was magic being on the studio tour, the place full of smiling happy faces..not a crying child in sight! The tour is not a Disneyworld type experience, it celebrates the ten years of making the Harry Potter movies and the incredible skills, craftsmanship and attention to detail that it involved. You cannot fail to be impressed by the dedication to detail that the team of set designers, costume designers, props, animatronics, painters, builders etc put into the creation of Hogwarts as you walk around. From the smallest prop, the Golden Snitch, to the movingly real Hippogriff, Buckbeak, the detail was incredible and really brought to life the books so loved by millions. Just a couple of facts I learned....17,000 wand boxes were placed in Olivander's shop, all labelled by hand with real peoples names, 40 kittens were brought on set for the moving plates in Professor Umbridge's office and then adopted by the unknowing general public, the interlocking parts on the vault door in Gringotts actually worked and, finally, the "crew" were all used as extras in the Ministry of Magic scenes and "loved every minute".

Gryffindor's Common Room

Buckbeak was incredibly lifelike!

My appreciation of the skills involved in making a movie such as Harry Potter or The Hobbit have increased and as I, my daughter and husband left the Studio Tour we were like children, all chattering excitedly about the visit, faces smiling. No, the visit did not spoil the magic.....I even bought myself a wand to try and make my own!

The stunning1:24 scale model of Hogwarts

So the next time your child asks you to read to them, put aside that ironing, shut off Facebook and curl up in a chair and share the power and wonder of a good book, or even a well made movie .....those memories will be with you and them always...right down to the last "Doh Re Mi".

http://www.wbstudiotour.co.uk/

Dipping my toe into the world of blogging!

After two years of living in the Netherlands & "blogging" via email I have decided to go pro & start a real blog.

This time of the year I am faced with dozens of images of high school & college graduation and it set me to thinking about the unexpected journeys we take after we leave education. I certainly never expected to live in the USA or the Netherlands when I graduated from nursing! Yet here I am, facing very different challenges than the ones I imagined at 23. I have learned that life is a rollercoaster ride, with perturbing sometimes scary moments, challenging, wonderful and thrilling moments. You just have to strap in, hold your partners hand and enjoy the ride...just keep the screaming to a dull roar!

Since moving, my perturbing and scary moments have been few and far between thankfully. They have included saying goodbye to friends in the school and town I had worked in for nine years in the US, selling the home in which my children had grown up and, more recently, dealing with the death of my mother. The saying, "What doesn't kill you makes you stronger " has featured many times in the last few years but am I stronger? I have cried many tears and screamed a little at times but I am still here so I guess I must be stronger.

The challenging moments must include living in a country where English is not the first language. The Dutch, thank goodness, generally speak either a little or a lot of English which either makes life easier or makes me lazier! My Dutch lessons provide a huge challenge, both for my husband & myself...it turns out that, despite encouraging my own kids & the students I worked with that homework was important & reinforced everything they had learned, I have no intention of doing the homework! Sssh, don't tell! It's worrisome when you are so bad that you actually make your teacher snort water down her nose! I did have a moment or two after that, when I thought to myself that I really should take this language thing seriously but it soon became a memory, along with the laughter between ourselves & the teacher. If nothing else I provide her with entertainment each week...that's a good thing, right?

As for the wonderful & thrilling moments thankfully they are many. Living the life of an "ExPat" can be extraordinarily lonely some of the time, but the up-side of this world is the interesting people you meet & the opportunities you have for exploration. When riding the train from Munich airport recently I happened to sit next to a young woman from Siberia, who was traveling to Switzerland. We spent a wonderful 40 minutes chatting (of course her English was exemplary!) and I was left thinking how great to meet a stranger that for a brief moment had enriched my life. The friends I have made through my travels are part of the amazing tapestry that this life as an expat has created...from treasured friends in the USA to new friends in the Netherlands. Many of those friends are also expats & we move in & out of each others lives, some to stay friends & provide another country to visit, some to drift away but always adding to this experience.

So, graduates of high school & college (my own daughter included), grab a ticket & jump on board this rollercoaster....it may be the ride of your life!