Warmer Days

I just stumbled upon these pictures from our trip to Portugal this summer while (finally) cleaning my desk.

We've had a decent fall in Amsterdam, but the weather tide seems to be turning.  It's just cold and wet right now.

These sunny photos, full of exotic animals (and I'm not just talking about my lovely children . . . ), were a surprise pick-me-up.

Bumping Along!

My brother and sister-in-law made it to the half-way point!

Now they get to start counting DOWN to the arrival of their baby twins, instead of up (i.e. only 17 weeks to go, instead of 23 weeks along). So exciting!

I'm happy to report mama and babies are doing great, and last I heard, the babies were facing each other in utero. A sweet reminder of the closeness they will share for a lifetime.

Next year's holidays are sure to be crazier! xoxo

Round Three! Sinterklaas

Sunday marked the annual arrival of Sinterklaas--the Dutch version of Saint Nicolas, patron saint of children.

The festivities begin in mid-November each year, when Sinterklaas rolls in from Spain on a ship, then hops off onto his horse, Amerigo, to greet jubilant Dutch children. He is aided in his three-week visit to the Netherlands by hundreds of so-called Black Piets, and goes out in grand fashion on December 5, which is the main holiday event here in The Netherlands. Christmas is celebrated, but in a much more low-key fashion.

Children all over the country, including our own, put their wooden clogs out with letters, poems, and carrots (for the horse) with the hope that Sinterklaas will leave them presents and candy.

I've already explored the controversy surrounding the Black Piets, so I won't go there this time, if only to note that the debate continues at a national and international level. The photos below give you all the cues you need to understand the crux of the debate. If you feel like knowing more, here are my posts from the previous two years:

Sinterklaas 2013

Sinterklaas 2014

The Piets come to town on all modes of transportation:

 Even on water jet packs:

Dutch slippers filled with goodies for Sinterklaas and Amerigo:

The poem we wrote for Sinterklaas on Sunday night, after the parade:

St Martin's Day

It's one of my favorite Dutch customs, Saint Martin's Day.

Each year, on November 11, school-aged children walk the neighborhoods and parks in a lantern parade to honor Saint Martin of Tours, friend of children and the poor. Kids make their own hand-crafted lanterns (usually at school) and walk door-to-door singing songs about Saint Martin and asking for candy. It's a lot like Halloween, without the costumes.

When the children walk through the city parks after dusk, with only the light of paper lanterns, it is one of the most moving experiences of a lifetime. It's hard to believe, but it's is our third year celebrating this touching holiday.

Of course, in the United States, November 11 is also a time to remember those who have served the country during times of war. Thank you for your service, and for helping protect the lives of future generations, like the little ones pictured here with just their lanterns and a smile.

A special moment of gratitude goes out to our family and friends who have served:

Gary Bolen
Mel Furbish
Reif Russell
Al Satzman

In an interesting observation about differences in culture, The Netherlands does not have the same twisted history of poisonings and razor blades in candy.  It felt like a return to the 1970's with all the unwrapped candy.  Don't get me wrong, I'm still kind of grossed out with all those grimy kid hands, but still interesting that the same fear factor doesn't exist over here.

Love this! A & R even stopped by a few outdoor cafes and sang for candy!

All in Dutch, of course!

Give Me an "A"

Give me an "A" for Little Miss "A" getting her swim Diploma "A."

Kids pass through a really strict set of lessons and testing to get their swim diplomas in Holland. No one's messing around, considering all those canals.

Every graduate is treated to much fanfare and celebration when they get their diploma. It's a BIG deal.

So proud of this little girl. Lots of hard work. She even had  to go through the test in her clothes and shoes today. She even did her lessons in Dutch.

Now, it's just lots of smiles.

Almost there!

Shedding the clothes and shoes for next part of exam:

Right on!

Under the Tuscan Sun

The middle portion of our trip to Tuscany brought us to a 17th-century farm that has only been in the hands of three families over the course of three hundred years. 

It was just us. 

And 12 giggly, Canadian seniors in the big villa.

And the wild boars. (It is truffle season, after all).

It's a small farm, but cared for with lots of love. Many of the workers were actually born on the farm, and have been tending to the olive trees for generations.

We were lucky enough to be there during harvest time. The olives are basically combed off the trees with a large tool and drop onto a net where they can dry and any loose bits can be shaken out.

Then, the olives are brought up to a drying room using this old-fashioned conveyor belt.

The drying room for olives and walnuts.  They dry on racks of bamboo.

The little house where we stayed used to be workers' quarters back in the 17th century. The workers lived on the second floor and the animals and tools were stored below. You can see AKS reading at a table in the grassy area in front of our house, which was also adjacent to the drying room:

It was love at first sight.

This cat, named Monroe, even stayed in our house each night.

Loved the morning fog.

 

Three hundred years ago, farms were small villages onto themselves. In Italy, you can find them perched on top of all those hills.

During that time, it was common to have a private chapel, and the one on our farm is practically untouched since then:

Lots of UNO and soccer playing:

Goodnight moon. Goodbye Monroe.