What's Next?

Family Work Day.

Today is the day that we had to vacate the Shur-Guard Storage Unit.  The last day, of course.  We have known about this for a month, or so.  We rented the storage unit soon after moving here a couple of years ago; about ten minutes after realizing that the basic needs brought from a Canadian household was, well, just too much crap.  I brought my snowshoes, to The Netherlands.  Who does that?

The Most-Amazing-Man (now known as Hubbybaby, thanks to a young Serbian man) has taken ill with what I suspect is the debilitating corona virus, or the plague, finally caught from Patient Zero and Patient Zero-point-One; the offspring.  It was inevitable, I say.  He had a sick day yesterday and a most-certainly-dying day today.  Today; the one day that we had planned a massive reorganization of three storage sheds located in two different towns.

Fortunately, and quite coincidentally, I had baited the 20-year-old daughter to bring her boyfriend, Jan, home this morning to exchange late Christmas gifts.  Perfect set-up.  After giving him his Christmas present and feeding him and the children incredibly hard to obtain bacon, lettuce and tomato sandwiches, I only felt a tad guilty when I stood over them and said, “So, here’s the plan....”

Jan-the-Boyfriend organized boxes on the shipping end, loaded the car numerous times and disposed of recyclables.  Liam-the-Sixteen-Year-Old packed up Christmas (yes, I know the date), organized two ginormous yard sheds, unloaded the car on the receiving end and found places for things that I didn’t know we owned.  Taryn-the-Daughter, who felt that she had done plenty by merely attracting an appropriate suitor, chatted, requested that we (the workers) stop everything and play Clue, did her best Hepburn impression and warmed up some food from the fridge (aka made a meal).  Overall a very successful day in the beehive.

Werner (Hubbybaby) and I checked out the sheds this evening after all the dust had settled.  I do not know why I am continually astounded by Liam’s organizational abilities.  Though he is completely capable of only moving to prevent bedsores, he also possesses a focus that has driven him to painstakingly produce artistic, symmetrical patterns on his wall with individually hung gum wrappers, playing cards and train tickets.  Savant.

It was a good day.  I am no longer paying 227 euros per month for a storage unit in another town, Liam revealed interest in future professional avenues that don’t include jumping cars off buildings, Taryn stuck around for the day, Jan thoroughly impressed me with his work ethic, Werner has returned to the world of the living (better late than never) and I, once again, really appreciate what I have.

Santa in the Off Season

We all need to have something to do at times when work is not as demanding.  For some of us, it might be a distracting hobby in the evenings or a vacation once or twice a year.  For others, there is an entire half of the year or more that there is just no work to do.  Hockey players play golf in the summer.  Football players gamble or get involved in charities in the winter.

Since Santa's first visit to children everywhere, magically accomplishing his mission in one night, haven't we all wondered what he does for the rest of the year?

Wonder no more.

One sunny afternoon in Antwerp, Belgium, we saw Santa on a little excursion.  Though the styling is a little different from what we are accustomed to seeing him in, he is still loyal to the red cloak and hat.  I think the T-shirt gives us a glimpse of his edgier side and though the untucked shirt screams casual, the hat and determined expression reminds us that he is all business.  The wine glass is a great touch; leading edge accessorizing for the hard-core multi-tasker.

And then he stops.  He looks around.

He has a seat on the artistically decorated bench behind the church.

Santa, what did you just pull out of your bag?

Is that a bottle of Good Cheer?

And a water bottle?  Where's the wine glass that you were carrying with such determination only moments earlier?

Looking around.  You never know when one of those little busy-bodied elves are going to show up and expect you to share.

Of course! The wine glass wasn't big enough.  So obvious now.

Don't worry, Kiddies!  This little series of chrono-photos was taken a few months ago.  Plenty of time for drying out, rehab and re-entry into the workforce to make his whirlwind tour to a chimney near you!  Be good!

Invasion of the Season

In Canada, I am accustomed to the onslaught of Christmas commercialism within hours of the Halloween Jack-O-Lanterns witnessing the sunrise; streets and stores strewn with boughs and bobbles, repeat-play of Bing's White Christmas and Elvis' Blue Christmas from every speaker and, whipped cream and sparkles on the coffees that, only the day before, came with milk and sugar.  This is normal.  I know when Christmas day is from the advent calendars and I know that Santa Claus pitches up at the shopping malls somewhere around the end of November or the day of the US Macy's Parade.  Normal for me.

In The Netherlands, mid-November on a Sunday, Sinterklaas arrives by steamboat from Spain with his helpers, the Zwarte Pieten.  I know!  I was a little freaked out, too.

Last year, I returned from a work mission to see these characters roaming the streets.  Having just finished thirty hours of travel and definitely not in close control of my wits, I thought it would be better to walk briskly, make no stops and, for-God's-Sake, do NOT make eye contact.

Once safely in my second story flat, I reassessed the view of the market street out the window, much like one of those scary-jumping-spiders that hangs out above my doorway, watching, learning.

In addition to what I could only describe as black-impersonating-court-jesters smiling, dancing and singing in the streets, there were identical stuffed dolls as integral parts of the Christmas Sinterklaas window displays.  Must be a trend of some sort if they have already made dolls fashioned after these guys.

The response that I got from another Expat who I asked about this invasion was, "I don't know, I'm just trying to figure out when it ends."  Hmmmm.

Must Google.

As is the norm with the World Wide Web, there are as many stories about these guys as there are hits on the Web.  So, following I will tell you my loose interpretation of these goings-ons.

Sinterklaas, like most of our interpretations of the Great Mid-Winter Bearer of Gifts, shows up from somewhere else and makes good on the parental threats of naughty and nice.  I have to say that it's a little more disturbing than my childhood memories where the big risk was getting a lump of coal in my stocking if I didn't Stop Tormenting my Brother.  Dutch kids are risking a public "birching" if they have been slightly naughty and, if they have been a real pain in the ass to their parents, they will just get thrown into a burlap sack and taken back to Spain to be dealt with there.... quickly and quietly... never to be seen again.  Bloody Hell!  Nice way to kick off the season!

Enough of that, back to these guys, the Zwarte Pieten (Black Petes).  The nice version that contemporary Dutch like to pitch is that they are Sint's "helpers" and they are black from traveling down the chimneys to fill the children's clogs with gifts.  Oh yeah?  Then why are there suits so brightly coloured still?  How do they keep their whites so white and their colours so bright?

Anyway, friendly bunch though their true history stems from anywhere from Satan himself being captured and forced to work for the Big Man, to Moorish slaves well... being captured and forced to work for the Big Man.  Either one makes total sense to me but, I have to say, though the Satan one seems to be a little more in tune with the season with ridding the world of evil and all, the slavery story is more in keeping with the times and the originating locale.

Either way, wherever they have come from, I have to say that I can't think of a culture that does not have some lack of altruism in its past so, my thoughts, embrace your history and talk the foreigners down off the ledges.

And... please tell me what you guys use to remove that black paint.  That is a make-up remover I have to have.

Happy Sinterklaas!

Cool Flag

Thanks, Madonnart!

we are in

CanadianPlanet

British Columbia

FYI..... Halloween is on the 31st....

Halloween has always been one of those holidays that is claimed by all; from the ancient Celts' Samhain to the Romans' Feralia to the modern Catholics' All Saints Day.  Though all have tried the re-naming and re-purposing of this historic celebration, no one, until the Dutch, have tried to switch it to a more convenient day.

This year, October 31st has fallen on a Sunday.

Apparently, Sunday does not work for the Dutch so, they changed it to Saturday... without telling me.  I am not just talking about bar theme nights or house parties, I am talking about the short, costumed candy-beggars running around ringing doorbells with huge expectations of sweets and praise!  Here in The Netherlands, the costumed children did their door-to-door, trick-or-treating thing last night on Saturday, October 30th!

That was unexpected.

Thanks to Liam, who noted this bizarre activity while on his way to one of the above mentioned parties, we were warned to hide inside and turn out the lights, the only truly practical solution:

"Hey Ma.... just to let you know.... I have seen a bunch of gangs of dressed up kids.... weird.... you may want to turn off the lights or something because I'm pretty sure there is no candy in the house."

Thanks, Dude.

So, last night we hid in the darkened livingroom and watched TV to pass the time until the the mislead youth returned home and tonight, true Halloween, we sit in total peace with lit candles in the windows to guide the lost souls on this true night where the boundaries between the living and dead are blurred for a short time.

And, important as well, here is what we found in the local Aussie/Brit store....

The cider is pretty good, the beer has a cool label.

To all of you, Happy Halloween! 

Coming soon... how the Dutch expect Santa Claus (Sinterklaus) three weeks early.

Hugs??? Not Important!??

Funny thing is... I have always been one of those people who has had personal space issues and has really preferred to not be touched.  Still am.  However, I have also always understood the need for human contact; albeit, by my belief, more by others than myself.

I am sure that, during your baby rearing years, you remember the comments from the previous generations; maybe your own parents, that have sounded quite a bit like, "Don't pick him up everytime he cries.  You will spoil him." or "He will be a stronger person if you just let him cry himself to sleep."

Do you really have the right to deny anyone his or her need for human contact any more than his need for air, food, shelter or clothing?

Living in a somewhat free Western society, I will say No.

My "children" are now 16 and 19 years old and, as much as I know that I have never aspired to receive the "Parent of the Year" Award, I am proud that I can say that I never let them cry themselves to sleep nor did I ever deny them that essential human contact.  No matter what the challenge, if a hug was requested, a hug would be rendered and this still holds true to this day.  It's not like I had to give up a limb or something.  The easiest resolve to any turmoil is to melt into the arms of someone who loves you.

If one is to look up the definition of a hug, he will find that, after the obvious physical attributes, the terms that are linked to that action (hug) are words like cherish, affection, delight, comfort....

By that definition, is a hug something that one would ever want to withold or deny someone who they really have a strong affinity towards?

Is that a valuable punishiment?  Are the dishes that important?  Are you too busy?  Are you worthy of such a decision that someone in your life is not deserving of three seconds of your time?

What's the damage?  To both of you?

Fuck the whole, "smell the roses" campaign.  Value the time that you have with those who are important to you.  Tick Tock.

 

 

Congratulations, Gretchen!

Our resident swan and her nine perfect babies.

Fooled Again!

Asking for a nice dry red wine in Russia is like asking for a virgin in a brothel.  They will always try to sell you one that they claim is really close but, you both know in your hearts that it's just not the truth.

The latest sales pitch:

The grapes are grown on the same latitude as the Bordeaux region in France, see:

Also, the name of the wine is Cru Lermont a 2006 Cabernet Sauvignon from Fanagoria!  It wasn't one of the usual Moldavian offerings that taste like flat Fanta Grape soda.  It was also over double the price of any other wine in the shop.  It had to be good not too bad.

After the first taste, I almost dumped it out.  However, desperate times call for desperate measures (remember the volcano delays?) so the Fanagorian Wine has now been mixed with Cherry juice and mineral water.  If I close my eyes, stand by the window and feel the cool evening breeze while taking very small sips, I can almost imagine that I am drinking a Sangria on the beach by the North Sea.  Almost...

My advice for those visiting Russia and wanting a nice glass of red wine:  Drink Vodka.

In World News..... The Part That Affects Me.

So, there's this volcano on the south side of Iceland.

The last time Mount Eyjafjallajokull erupted was almost 200 years ago and the eruption lasted well over a year.  Nice.  It has erupted four times in recorded history and each of the previous three times it has set off it's sister volcano, Katla, which happens to be a meaner more powerful volcano.  So far, Katla is still resting easy but one has to take a serious look at history.

The ash cloud from Mount Eyjafjallajokull, on its own, has caused the largest travel disruption in the world, ever.  Almost all of European airspace is shut down until further notice (remember the year long eruption last time?) and, depending on the source, the air travel industry is losing somewhere between 200 and 600 million euros per day.  All trains, ferries, cabs, rental cars, rickshaws and donkey carts are booked full for weeks already.  Hundreds of thousands of people are stranded somewhere and hotels have been reported as full and doubling their regular rates.

So far, it has only been two days.

I am not a conspiracy theorist for the most part but I have been watching for asteroids, earthquakes and showers of frogs.  I'm not going to depend on our world leaders to keep me in the loop.

Barring the end of the world thing, my next dearest concern is that I'm stranded in Russia.  I am due to get home to The Netherlands on Thursday which may seem like enough of a buffer (5 days) but, my relief crew must depart The Netherlands on Tuesday which is not quite so far away.  They don't show, I don't go.  The escape pod only comes once per week.

Of course, for the first time in my life, I have booked my initial week home absolutely chock-a-block full with appointments, some including other flights.  Seriously, first time ever.  Bloody hell.  These are not just Tupperware parties and nail appointments, well, okay, there is a nail appointment, but the rest are really important meetings for registrations and licenses and visas and stuff.

I never make appointments; this causes me pain.

So, as I sit and sip on a glass of Chianti, wondering if I have enough stock to weather the storm, I have to consider that the world is trying to tell me something.

Does my family need more time to finish unpacking and organizing le chateau?

Do I need time to learn more Russian than, "Good Morning", "Thank you" and "No soup for me"?

Should I not be so brazen as to commit to a schedule when I haven't made it back into the country yet?

Should I spend more time in the gym?

Because, of course, this whole volcanic eruption thing must have something to do with me.  It's a message.

To all the weary travelers and citizens of the world out there who are feeling the exact same way; best of luck and I wish you a quick and safe return to wherever you really want to be.  For me, it's home to my family

....... the quasi-factual stuff cited above came from various sources such as Yahoo news, bbc, Wikipedia, some volcano geek sites, NASA, met sites, etc.  What can I say?  I've been surfing this shit all day.

The Short and Sweet, The Down and Dirty, The Quick Update....

• DHL Courier Service came right with me. I was contacted by a Manager from the office that keeps a picture of my face on their dartboard. He apologized for the problems, updated me on their investigation, told me that he had read my blog (and liked my writing) and reimbursed me for the value of the damaged and stolen items.  He was sincere and helpful.  It would have been really nice to have received that help from the beginning but, I am satisfied.  DHL, I hope that you realize that you have a diamond in that office amongst the, well, non-diamonds.

• My Dad has since received a replacement Russian Aviator watch, though not the exact same style, from an excellent company in Germany called Poljot.  Julian Kampmann of Poljot was very impressive and offered personalized service, quick shipping and a great presentation which included a description and history of the watch and a bag of Russian cookies.
  

• I lost my small camera on our ski trip.  I loved that camera.  It was an Olympus 1030SW; shock resistance, water proof and freeze tolerant.  It was me-proof.  It was tough.  It didn't need a prissy case for protection.  It could be thrown into my pocket, fall out, get dropped in the snow, swing on the wrist strap and smash into everything in sight and it was no worse for wear.  Unfortunately, it was not loss-proof.  I must have dropped it out of my hoodie pocket one too many times.  Or it made a dive to escape the abuse; which is also a believable story.  The good news is that, after a few years of not making quite as nice a product, Olympus has brought back a new and improved version.  I am now the proud owner of an Olympus uTough digital camera; 14 megapixels of metal, gaskets, rivets and locks that would make a submarine proud.  Great camera.  Now the only things that I am missing are the hundreds of photos that I took on that last ill-fated trip and, my RayBan Sunglasses.  The sunglasses were accidentally left on the aircraft but, apparently, no great loss since I looked like an 80's porn star wearing them.  I've been wearing them religiously for the last two years but I guess I couldn't be told that I looked like an 80's porn star until after I had lost them.

• We have bought a house.  The only transaction that requires more time, effort, money, meetings, paperwork, blood and tears to successfully complete in The Netherlands than buying a house, is getting married.  Oh, and having cable TV installed.

• A little known fact:  Berlin, Germany is the closest Canadian Visa office to The Hague, Netherlands even though The Hague is pretty much the International Hub of Europe, arguably.  I was surprised.  Next trip: Berlin.