Saturday, February 10, 2024


 Spring comes early here for my snowy muscle memory of springs.  I like this A LOT. I don't have to wait for it, there is no series of days or weeks of my mind going to that place it tries not to, the place of flower buds and robins nests and bumble bees buzzing around on the coldest most frozen of winter days.  I just go out to get in my car on any usual morning and blippity boop I see spring bulb flowers poking up. Without any whining at all! It really is a very nice thing.  I tell everyone I do miss the real winter of snow and stillness, I do, right? I know I miss the process before winter, the harvest, the putting up of food and cord wood.  It is such a nice feeling to feel prepared for winter. I miss those first few snow storms when we all agree "yes, gee whiz that is so much snow" and we feel satisfied knowing we did the hard work and we are warm and comfortable. That doesn't happen here but instead we have months of dark gray and rain rain rain and more rain. So much rain you don't even notice if its a light rain anymore and just do your stuff with hopefully cute raingear (that is the best part of rain, galoshes and cute hooded coats with a plaid or polka dot umbrella, no maybe a deep clear umbrella with black bias trim.  See what I mean? It's a fun part of rain.) It's also an excuse to own more than one cute umbrella, because you can match your outfit and not look silly with a faded, wonky, huge golfing umbrella (been that person a few times sadly.)

So today, when Sawyer is done doing his project we are going for a bike ride to find sheep because this year we are going to try and see as many lambs as we can. In any direction there are sheep and we will ride our bikes to find the most we can. It wooly is nice to see lambs in spring when you're used to seeing snow and ice during this part of the year. I think our neighbors would laugh and tell me it isn't even spring really but they don't have any idea what it's like to live burrowed in a house with many feet of snow outside for months at a time. But it's a hard thing to translate appropriately without elevating my voice in hysteria. I mean they still wear wooden clogs in the garden! But that's a whole other post and Sawyer is just about done. Ewe are the best and don't let anyone tell ewe otherwise.

Sunday, January 28, 2024


 A Weird True Story:

We flew to Seville, Spain for just a few days. We rented a car from a place that looked professional online but then when we got there we had to wait on a gritty street corner.  A girl picked us up and drove us to the middle of nowhere. She entered a small hut walked behind a desk and became an office person. She asked a few questions (I had already paid online) and then walked around the cluttered desk again and handed us keys to a black car that was parked right outside the hut. We drove out of the middle of nowhere by ourselves and headed a couple hours to the east. When we arrived at the hotel Sawyer said "this place smells just like Aunt Mary's house". He didn't realize we were at the ocean because it was so dark out and it was the sea air he was smelling. This made me happy for some reason. Anyhow we had some scheduled things to do and soon enough we repeated the process to return the car only backwards version with the same girl. That's not the weird part of this trip, keep reading if you can. When we got home someone I speak to only occasionally said she received a box of Seville oranges. And I literally just walked in the door from there and saw a hundred orange trees.  But when I said that it felt like not the truth because being back at home so fast it felt like a dream like I didn't really feel the warm sun on my face and see orange trees. Luckily I did buy a tiny little corked crock of Ibiza salt because we only had tiny baggage to fly with, so I had proof in my hand. And that's my story, I saw Seville oranges on the trees and then within two hours of being home someone that had no idea I was there randomly said how excited she was with her Seville oranges. That's the weird part, but weird in a good way I think.





Wednesday, January 3, 2024

all the thinks to think







When my son was young he said taste buds change every seven years. I think he was right, but I also think this can be applied to your life in many other ways. There are things in my middle aged life I like very much that I would have never chosen in my young adult life. The older I get the more fascinating I find things. People, places, things...all of it. I wish my mind was as open to new things when I was my younger self.  The world was so big to me then, a little scary I think. I wanted steadfastness where I could find it.  Childhood was chaotic and free falling. The way this affected me was to grow up very fast, creating routines that most people don't find themselves doing until they are old.  I liked what I liked and didn't like what I didn't like, There was no room to consider otherwise.  I wanted peace of mind, and still do. We all do, don't we?

Living in Europe gives me different feelings than living in the US. My vulnerabilities are different. I feel less judged here as a human. It's a given that people are people, that we don't have to think alike, look alike, that individually we are okay until proven differently. We matter no matter. It's a nice thing to live this way when you are a human. At the same time it can be hard as you have to speak up and make inquiries.  I have heard a few times when I've said "I have no idea" about something it's because I didn't ask. They smile and say, "Oh, that's because you didn't ask." Asking the right questions to the right people is an art, and we all know Europeans are so talented when it comes to art. My brain is gaining new pathways to navigate life.

Spending many years in the depths of motherhood raising six kids, I am learning about the growth of a person from the stage of an inquisitive baby to an existential teen so close to the cusp of adulthood it is almost painful to watch. Then a beautiful thing, seeing your adult child and the floodgates of love and appreciation run so deep it's immeasurable.  For so many years I've watched kids at all the various stages of their lives learning how to be independent.  I even watched taste buds change. During all this I couldn't see myself, even in the mirror. I don't think this is true for most people and truthfully it's only been recently that I've realized this is unique. The last few years I've actually seen myself in the mirror.  All of me, the rather large nose, the uneven freckles, the profile of a woman with slightly hunched shoulders and if I dare be proud: skinny legs.  And even more than that I no longer ignore those eyes that stare back at me knowing all my details, so plain and unobstructed.  Some really painful stuff from the past that was never buried but also never spoken about.  Those eyes always knew that there would be a time and a place to find that peace, they didn't need to carry the heaviness. And here I am.  

I don't think it's a midlife crisis or menopause, nor an awakening like books describe. I think simply, I looked up. The emotions I was carrying around in such heavy bags were physically making me ill. I couldn't smile and offer to make another cake, or do another favor, or gloss over so many life details. I looked up and recognized a person that wanted to belong, to feel safe, to feel wanted.  That wanted to wake and go to sleep without feeling at fault for something. I can vouch each child is born with different traits. It's up to the parents to admire those and teach around them, through them, in the most lovingly way. It has been my favorite part of life to do this as a mother. Maybe not always in the right ways, but even trying was fun. Loving is my favorite. 

I don't have anger that my traits were out there blowing in the most vulnerable winds. It would hit as a raw emotion when I'd see my child do something so precious and beautiful and realize no one noted those things in my life. It became a sadness I wanted no part of recognizing, so I'd put it in a box alongside all the other boxes.  I'm really organized with storing things!  Then officially I paid people to help me learn about myself. My intuitions were right: I am unique.  But guess what, so are you.  I am a person wandering around life just like all the other people. 

It's the New Year and I do enjoy seeing and reading the renewal people are holding themselves to.  A healthy outlook is a positive. My own healthy outlook isn't the old days of exercising more.  It's being more natural with who I am. Finding love, forgiveness and gratitude in my life each day.  This reminds me to say thank you for reading this rambling of words.  All my best to you and yours.





 

Sunday, August 27, 2023


Yesterday my daughter and her husband drove a few miles from their house. They waved bye to their kids and their dogs and Marc's mom and dad who are visiting. Then they got checked into their little hospital and Maggie birthed a baby. A beautiful baby girl.  Backing up my story to just before they drove a few miles from their house, Maggie and I were video chatting. She had just woken up from a nap and I mentally noted to myself that she resembled the Maggie that was four or five years old and woken from a nap. That was many moons ago (though it seems like yesterday) But she sat up and felt weird and looked dumfounded. She broke her water, slowly at first and she was confused. Neither of us knew what was happening. Well, yes, we knew she was pregnant and due any day (oh boy that would really be a story if she didn't know) She was asking me if this could indeed be the time, and this is a legitimate question as I am her mother and indeed I have birthed six kids myself. She was asking in the manner that can only be written as COULD THIS BE IT??????? But I really didn't know. The only time I broke my water it happened like POP, like it literally made a very loud noise. Just imagine what that noise would sound like in an exaggerated way and that is definitely what it sounded like, and then a huge waterfall followed. But Maggie had neither the noise or waterfall so I told her to walk a bit and lo and behold just a few steps and yup, she broke her water.  We both laughed and weren't sure how to say bye and good luck and love you, really how do you do that? Especially because a few years ago when her first two children were born I lived 10 miles away and could say see you there.  We now live 3451 miles apart. That is not an exaggeration at all, and when your child is having a baby it seems even farther than that number.  
The picture here is from my walk after Maggie had her baby, I felt so grateful.  It had been a rainy, stormy day (Maggie's favorite) and the sun tried to filter through, it was so pretty. My heart is so full even still. The world is big yes, but also small when your grandchild is born far away and you already love her so much. She is one day old but I already know her deep in my heart. She will have a natural smile and be happy with who she is. She has two older siblings that figured things out for her already so she will have a real vivre la vie type of personality. Which is fitting with her beautiful french name...
Clèmentine Lorraine







 

Friday, August 25, 2023

 School has started. They packed their supplies and climbed aboard the dutch bus.  It felt weird like it's not really time.  I wanted to say haha and let them stay home. But I stood awkwardly and waved with that feeling of laughing or crying, I'm not sure which. Some other random kids also waved back which I thought was a  very sweet thing to do. This is my favorite time of year, mostly because of school supplies.  who doesn't like the thrill of sharpened pencils and white cap erasers? The air is crisp and the start of school kind of makes me feel refreshed.  I miss my kids now that they are physically in a school but I guess  it just feels optimistic? New classes, new friends, new goals. Henry is grade 11 and Sawyer grade 6, their school is an international one, lots of kids from all over the world,  and yes, they are taught in english.


The boys grew this summer and I didn't even notice during any of the summer days, not until they let me take a picture. It is noted now in my brain, the summer they grew up.


Today has been full of storms, the house is so dark.  I cleaned then cut out a few patterns while watching Little House. Mary wanted to get married at age 13, seems so ridiculous to imagine that ever happened.  My great grandmother got married at 16. Her name was Daisy. She was born in 1890 and while I lived with my grandparents Daisy came to live with us.  She was so old to me at age 96.  I was 13 and wish I was mature enough to have asked her about her life. Anyhow, Mary didn't get married in the end (shocking) but was so sad to watch her love chuggity chug away on a train.




Our backyard is rather large considering where we live, it's nice to have greenspace to look out on.  The neighbors have domesticated deer and they frolic and run so fast around. I love watching them.







Tuesday, March 21, 2023

Abrupt

 After three years I'm pretty rusty, both with blogging and with age. Things are very different from the last time I wrote on here. We sold our house and did a 180 with our lives. Maybe it was the pandemic or maybe it was just life. Anyhow, we moved across the sea back to the Netherlands. It was a difficult decision. Hindsight will only tell us if it was a good one, needless to say the perks are obvious with the youngest two kids attending a school unlike anything they've experienced, the endless history and travel and most importantly: the cheese.  With family coming and going our time together has highlighted the phrase quality time. 

All my words these last few years have been ink to paper. My mind has had an outpouring of thoughts, observations, opinions, frustrations, and now strangely a degree of calmness. These new routines of the last six months are a comfort. They feel nice and the boys seem to be thriving. We were stuck with few options of a change that we were willing to climb aboard with. So we did the extreme. And yes not living near our adult kids and grandkids has been the hardest thing to not let sink my ship, so to speak. It's a physical pain that bubbles up to boiling from a simmer with just a slight trigger of a memory or holiday. (Insert extremely long, exhaling sigh here.)

Today is half over and it's just a regular old day. Boys at school, husband at work, third load of laundry spinning in the world's smallest washing machine. I road my bike in the sprinkling rain to get schnitzel for supper and came back with some flowers to arrange.  I pulled out all my half finished sewing projects and thought I was filled with determination when I glanced at my morning list of things that really can't wait one more day. So I did them and for some reason that inspired me to log in here so I can start writing again about the everyday of this new location and all the trials and rejoices of new language and customs and how my dorkiness knows no borders.  







Sunday, April 5, 2020

the days





It seems like another lifetime when I would walk outside and look at the flower gardens.  I am anticipating doing that so very much.  The whole world has gone askew.  It doesn't feel level and because of that even a short walk takes so much energy. My prayers have been so emotional and full lately.  It is my one true comfort....to pray.  I can be in any room of the house, wearing any half pajama type outfit, doing any menial task and I feel overcome to pray.  I used to feel guilty to heartily pray in my hour of need, why didn't I pray that way when my life was chugging along just fine? I've tried to be better at that- hearty prayers of gratitude because truly I am grateful for so much, much more than I am distraught about.  That saying about how it's the simple things in life really resonates now.  I hope I don't take for granted the noise my daughter's car makes when she drives in the yard and I hear the side door bang shut and my little granddaughter squeal with excitement as she comes in the mudroom waiting for her gaggle of aunts and uncles to welcome her.  
We all have so much emotional weight to carry lately.  Everything about our routines has been affected.  It's hard to imagine life returning to how it was.  I hope we all come out of it more appreciative.  The lessons I learned growing up with my grandparents (who would be over 100 years old now) make so much more sense.  They did things because they made sense, to be efficient, to be wise, because of the appreciation they learned along the way.  It became inherent to not waste, but as time went on and generations replaced theirs we became entitled.  It became too easy to complain about nonsense. These are my feelings and I recognize not everyone feels this way. 
Change is hard.  Fear is even harder.  But in the end nothing feels impossible, we can climb this mountain.  Optimism has a pilot light that is willing to grow into a flame to light our way if we let it.