Last night Tess had a part in her first play in German! The timing was awkward, somewhere along the way a note was missed, and we had planned Dave’s birthday party the same night as Tess’ play.  A little creative planning, flexible friends, and we fit both into one long night.  Our neighbors pitched in and not only ferried Tess to her play early, but got us tickets and seats all together.

When we got there, five minutes before curtains up, our biggest problem was parking on the narrow side streets.  We also didn’t have time to load up at the cash bar parked right outside the theater doors.  Germans are exceedingly practical and I shouldn’t have been surprised to see beer & wine being the number one fundraiser at a school function.  In fact, I should have planned to buy some glühwein to sip while enjoying  the show.

Honestly, I could have used a drink to sit through the play.  I’m not a play person.  Put it all in German, with school age children, and mediocre microphones, and it’s anstrenged (exhausting).   Leonardo und das magische Amulett is about a boy from 1348 who, magically, gets transported to 2011.  In his first minutes there he panics at the sight of a dragon… the best special effects of the night: a huge poster of an 18-wheeler toted across the stage.

The whole play, or rather rock-mystical, is set to pounding 70’s disco music.  All accompanied by high-pitched solo’s and the enthusiastic choirs of all three small towns that make up our neighborhood.  I thoroughly enjoyed the choirs. The kids rocked and sang their little hearts out.  Some of them, like Tess, obviously thought they were center stage and played to the audience. Still, intermission couldn’t come fast enough and we thoroughly enjoyed our mimosa’s and “hot dogs”.  Hot dogs in Germany are longer, thinner and come with a shorter, crustier bun.  While I love them, I wonder every time why, after centuries of making “hot dogs”, they haven’t figured out how to make the bun long enough to c over the dog.

Finally the curtain fell, and rose again to the whole cast.  The audience burst into thundering applause as the kids beamed on stage, and Tess took a bow.  And another bow.  And yet a third bow.   I’m sure I mentioned she had a part in the choir, one of the choirs at that, and yet the bows she took, complete with sweeping arms, were truly worthy of a star.  I’m thinking taking a bow is not part of the German culture.

After we quickly rushed home to a house teeming with guests, hot BBQ’s and a blazing fire out on the patio.  Dave has learned to doctor up a wicked glühwein  and we had a wonderful evening under the stars with our friends, speaking English, and celebrating his birthday.

Time is slipping through my fingers faster than I like. I’m beyond thankful for my newsletters. I’m finding myself going back through them and adding my personal notes here to the kids scrapbooks. What a huge blessing this task has been. It’s become a journal to remind me of all the little things I was sure I would not ever forget.

Today is St. Martins day again. I can’t believe a year has gone by since our first lanterne laufen with Danes school. This time we were fully prepared. This time I had a glass for the gluhwein after, and this time we had our lanterns ready. In fact, on Monday Dane, Tess and I spent an hour tracing, cutting, gluing and sweating to get our lanterns ready.

The teachers already had the templates ready, grass, a hedgehog, a moon and a bunny. Tracing the templates was already tricky, but cutting grass out of curling wax paper, and a hedgehog too, had me feverishly working with my tongue half out of my mouth. Apparently keeping your tongue half out of your mouth helps concentration. Who knew?

Once the cutting was completed it was time for gluing. Gluing turned out to be even harder than cutting. The wax paper cut-outs kept trying to curl back up into a tube, and all the edges on the grass and the hedgehog kept trying to glue on everything but the main lantern paper. I did it though! I got the whole lantern traced, cut & glued. Then I had to glue the whole scenic paper to top & bottom & attach the handle. Also all with curling paper that wanted to glue to everything but the top & bottom. Finally finished, I got lots of compliments from the teachers, the other mothers and even the kids.

Then, last night, at last, came our lanterne laufen (literally lantern walk). Dane was so fascinated with the lightbulb dangling from his stick he would not let me cover it with the lantern shade I’d spent an hour tracing, cutting & gluing.

I spent over a phone on the hour with my oldest baby today. Soren is 21, in California, at university and has a girlfriend I’ve never met. I’d like to change that. He’d like to change that. He wants to bring her home for Christmas. Eeeep. Yes!

It’s a male-dominated world I live in, even with the three big boys out of the house most days of the year. I’m ecstatic Danielle is coming for a month. I love her already. I’m nervous she won’t love us quite as much. Then again, she’s been spending an awful lot time with him. And he is used to a big family. From what I can tell, he’s created a big family at school too. As his roommates recent FB photo clearly shows.

This is Soren, far left, Danielle and friends in their living room on a recent school night. See? I think he has well-prepared her for life in our house.

Not that we sit quietly on the couch, all with laptops, an aquarium gurgling quietly in the background. That is something that never happens. I’m pretty sure it’s not always the case at Sorens house either. I know half of those boys are on the rugby team with him, and a like number work the rock wall with him. All of them snowboard, or ski. It is not a quiet crowd. And since we are not a quiet crowd, I think Danielle will feel right at home. Is it December yet?

I smelled snow in the air yesterday.  I tried very hard to not do a little happy dance out on my front porch, in front of all the neighbors, who already think of us as the crazy Americans.  I love snow.  A couple more weeks and we’ll be playing in the snow.  For now, it’s cold & rainy & very, very dark in the mornings.  So dark that Dane is having a hard time getting up.  I wake him, he strains to open his eyes, barely lifts his head;

“It’s dark.  There is no school in the dark.” And lays back down.  Every morning it’s a long, slow process getting that boy up.  Thank goodness kindy is not strict on getting-there time.

This brings me to; my boy is a boy.  Dane is no longer a baby.  He was late to potty train, but he is fully out of diapers since summer.  Earlier this month we tossed out all the sippy cups and now we have matching mommy & son glasses from Ikea.  I have the big 16 oz. ones, he has the small 6 oz. ones.  This week we finally tossed out all the “M” socks, he really fought us on this, and now we have 16 pair of brand new “L” socks in his drawer.  For the first time I bought his new jeans not in the baby department, but in the boy department.  And he is out of our bed, out of the toddler bed, and in a big boy bed.

This age, he is four, is one of my favorite ages.  Granted he talks too much, and I’m very thankful when Dave is home at night to take over the listening, but I love his talking.  I love his thought processes.  I can almost see his brain grow. I can almost see the new connections and understanding inside his mind.  He is truly learning the consequences of his actions.  I’ve seen him stop, think and change what he is doing.  One of the best examples is his desire to make my life easier.

Dane chooses to do chores for me.  Not because I asked, but because it makes my job “easier”.  His words.  Because I “do stuff for me”( for him).  Like Cole, Dane is a giver.  It is not something I did, but something God has placed inside him.  Dane, and Cole, both are the first to walk over to a crying child, to have sympathy, empathy.  Both are quick to give hugs.  And Dane thinks ahead to what will put a smile on my face.  Right now I’m loving his determination to keep all the shoes out of the front hallway, and tidy them up in their cubbies.  I hate tripping over shoes.  Dane knows this and is now the official Keeper of Shoes.  You should see him beam with pride every time I say thank you.  I say thank you a lot.

Dane & Dave had a man date on Tuesday.  They both got new hair cuts.

Beautiful day today.  This whole week has been fantastic.  Temperatures are down in the low 40’s (Fahrenheit).  The skies are crisp & clear.  The smell of fall is here, wood burning in fireplaces, pies baking, especially apple, and freshly plowed earth in the fields.  Speaking of freshly plowed earth… I’ve lived near farming before, but never where the farmers field is really an extension of my backyard, is midnight farming normal?  Or is this a German thing?

“Our” farmer has been up late this week.  Every morning there is another mountain of tubers (turnips, beets, rutabagas?) piled at the edges of the fields. We’re not sure what it is, but mountain is not exaggerating the size of the piles.  And by late, I mean 11pm, even later, late.  We can hear the tractors hum, the scraping of the blades pulling at the dirt, and see the spotlights shine from kilometers away, many times dancing on our ceiling when he is close.

Don’t get me wrong!  I’m not complaining.  I rather love it.  It is comforting to feel a part of our community in this small way.  I am rather curious if midnight farming is a worldwide thing, something I haven’t realized my whole life.  What a hard way of life.  I know I listen to them as I lie in bed.  I know I see them out again cruising the fields when I’m reluctantly up, driving the kids to school.  I know how much I love to eat, especially vegetables.

I’m more a veggie person than a fruit person.  I like the heartiness.  I love salt & butter on any veggie, not healthy, I know, but salt & butter on fruit would be so much worse.  Speaking of fruit, our apples are finally ready.  This year the crop is big.  Not just big as in a lot, but big as in HUGE apples.  Dane & I picked some this morning. I boosted him up in the tree, he picked and I put them in a basket.  Tess is out there now picking more.  I’m so ready to jam, sauce, preserve and bake!

Edit:  I baked Apple Crisp II from allrecipes.com.  Big hit!  Our apples are tart & this was yum (pssst and I did double the topping).

I was getting a little over-confident in my German speaking abilities and got into a debate yesterday.  All in German, though, granted, with a 7-year-old.  To top it all off, I lost.  I’d share the whole logic train in German, with translation, but I’m pretty sure I’d need to google translate some of the stuff she argued, and I’m pretty sure google translate would steer me wrong… and I’m pretty sure some of my German readers would have themselves way too good a giggle at my expense.  So, no.

It boils down to, I share driving duties with my neighbor.  Monday was pick-up day for me and, for my kids, it was bakery day.  They get bakery day once a week, and may choose any one(1) treat they’d like.  Since I had Melina  as well (aforementioned 7-year-old), I let her choose a treat too.  I knew very well that her mother cooks a hot lunch, the Germans big meal of the day, and that she would be mad I’d bought Melina a treat. Let alone let Melina eat the treat before lunch.  However.  She has frequently treated Tess, and before meals. Turn about’s fair play.  I made sure Melina knew to tell on me when she got home and she got in trouble.

I got in big trouble *grin*.  For me there’s nothing like my little spats with my neighbor.  Karin is the German me.  I love her with all my heart and she will be the reason I most miss Germany when we finally leave.  I could hear Karin’s voice when Melina explained why cookies before lunch were very bad.  Not only very bad, but unhealthy.

Now I, being a kid during the Cosby years, explained, very seriously, to Melina that cookies are, indeed, healthy.  They have flour, from plants; milk & butter, from cows; chocolate, from plants; even sugar, from plants.  This argument, all in German I remind you, went on for the whole drive home. Finally, as I pulled up to Melina’s house she had a brainstorm:

“but sugar gives you cavities.  This is bad.” And with that she squealed she won, scooted out of my car & skipped up to her house.

(Karin impersonating me this summer)

And suddenly it’s really fall.  The kind of fall that’s here to  stay.  Our Indian summer  days are gone and the chill is permanently in the air.  Gone are my tshirts, replaced by  “down sleevers” (aka long-sleevers) and my favorite Lands End fleece sweaters.  A couple more degrees and I can put on my lambfuzz-lined suede boots.  Well, if the toe will ever cooperate.  Good Lord healing takes a long time when you are over 40.

I’m just blessed my little ones keep me young.  This week a switch has flipped  in Dane’s brain and he’s suddenly drawing, no longer scribbling.  Last week people were still amoebas.  This week, at the start of the week, we had heads, legs and arms.   On Wednesday we sprouted  stomachs (and spikes, because Dave & I are ‘good guys’ and spikes protect Dane).  Yesterday we progressed to having hands!

He and Tess both are absolutely loving the cooler weather and snowboots, scarves and hats have made an early appearance.  It is important to keep warm and not catch a cold, insists my little wise man. And every day he’s found a pile of yellow, brown and red leaves, that someone has raked neatly into a pile, that he then throws sky high.  His little face glows with delight and he giggles “I love fall!”

My goal this week is to capture this with my camera, today he’s sleeping off a late night marathon of golf on the Wii.  I did convince Tess (read: couldn’t stop her) to pose for a fall picture or 10.  This is my favorite out of the bunch, you can see the impish side of her crinkling at the corners of her eyes.  I love her.

I’ve now told enough people that I might as well babble about in the newsletter.  I dropped a knife, a sharp knife, on my toe and had to get stitched back together.  Now you know, I’m clumsy.  I’m so clumsy that Dave calls me ‘schleprock’, the accident-prone guy from the Flintstones.  We are a very loving couple, me & Dave.

I was making shish kebabs for a dinner with friends, everything was chopped, the knife dutifully turned blade-in towards the cutting board, and the little ones were helping assemble.  I’d just finished tossing the veggies with a light coating of oil, salt, pepper & garlic… and the knife fell.  I felt no pain.  I just saw blood, lots & lots of blood, when I bent down to pick up the knife.  I realized it was coming from my toe, I realized I could see a little bone, and I quickly squeezed my flesh back together.  Completely forgetting my hands were covered in oil, salt, pepper & garlic.  Then I felt pain.

Dave quickly got me wrapped up and away to the ER.  Thirty minutes later, four stitches later, we were back on our way home and dinner was still ready in time for our guests!  Of course, they had to help assemble their own shish kebabs, set the table and clear, but everything else went smooth as silk.

Yesterday I went back to get my stitches out, only to find I’d busted right through them.  I got some stern looks and a little lecturing from the Dr.  Then he glued me back together and humpty dumpty is good to go.  Thank goodness.  Today is round II of our breakfast burrito fundraiser and I have 40 pounds of potatoes calling my name.

On a happy note, my german neighbor (speed chopper extraordinaire) is not only coming to help, but her sister has a farm, with potatoes, and I get a special friends & family discount.  I’m feeling all sorts of special over here.

Um, FYI, hospitals are no place for healthy 4-year-olds.

I’m backtracking a little today, because my weekend in Holland was packed with so much goodness, I’m just not done sharing.  On top of Oma, my family, we also hit ‘s-Hertogenbosch Maritiem festival, a celebration of all things boat.  I think.  All I know is, it was busy, filled with Dutch people, Dutch music, Dutch beer, what more could a girl want?

The best part was actually getting to the Maritiem part of the festival, and there was a stau!  After Ausfahrt (meaning exit on the freeway, but, well, we have teenage boys, so, um, yeah), stau was the first new word we learned in German.  It means traffic jam.  All stopped.  No go.  Enjoy the unlimited speeds on the autobahn… not.  In Holland, it being renowned for having recovered about half again of its country size via dikes, a stau is not with cars, but with boats!

A little side note, but if you are ever in country, and you want to stay in an unusual place, try renting one of the many houseboats along the canals in Amsterdam.  It’s not expensive, and a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.  There are also old ships that rent berths, google for one that speaks English (almost all do) and read the reviews.  Now that Dave has lost his fear of ships, it’s on our list of things to do.

Ever have a perfect morning?  Thursday Dane & I had one.  It started way too early, that part wasn’t perfect, but it did all get done and that’s pretty awesome.  I got the kids off to school, had a little time to finish up loose ends at work and then it was time to meet Dane for his field trip.

Of course, when I got to the field trip, all the other moms had kiddo’s and mine was nowhere in sight.  It turns out that where I thought Kindy was bringing the kids, in reality mommies were supposed to pick them up.  Luckily it was a long field trip, I had been early, and I had time to go get him.  I know that all sounds far from perfect, but when Dane & I got back, and we had to find our group, we went  through the magic gate alone and truly experienced the other side of the looking glass.

We went to Lutz Akkermans home, atelier, gardens.  Herr Akkerman is an amazing metal artist.  I do not have words for the beauty he creates out of iron, steel, even rust.  Walking up the metal stairs to his home, under the old train car that serves as his living room, surrounded by the fantastical imagery his art evokes, it is walking into another world.  Doing that without the group, in the quiet of the morning, Dane & I both felt the beauty as well as seeing it.  Going to Herr Akkermans is an all-senses experience.

Shortly after entering the garden we found our group and met Herr Akkerman.  Dane, despite being very rambunctious, is usually very reserved meeting new people.  I expected him to hide behind me, especially give Herr Akkermans height and austere demeanor, but Dane stepped right up and shook hands.  I think he felt what I soon learned, Herr Akkerman is a kind, gentle, patient soul.  I loved him, his home and his art.

The next two hours flew by, and we had one great moment after another.  Herr Akkerman shared how he works, special pieces and why he created them.  He let us explore, and touch and interact with his work.  It was two hours spent in beauty and fantasy.  It was a perfect morning.