Last night Dad called. It was one of those ‘ Hey, what’s new ? What’s up ? ‘ sort of calls. ‘Oh’ I said, lying through my teeth ‘ not much.’ He basically wanted to know if I had made any progress on arranging our summer vacation. In a bind, I can do ‘ scatter-brained ‘ quite well, which is what I proceeded to do. After I got off of the phone, I knew that I would have to tell him. I had been hoping that I could put it off until after Jan. 16th, you know, ‘ the big day ‘, but I can’t.

So I sent him an e-mail today, explaining the situation and telling him that right now we have no idea what next month will bring, let alone next summer.

My brother Tut is very different from me. I suffer from psychosomatic amnesia, quickly forgetting bad things that have happened. He doesn’t. When I saw him last summer in New York, one of the first things that he asked me was ‘ What kind of Grandpa is Dad ? Better then he was at being a father ? Or does he ignore them too ?’ That shocked me a bit, but later I just realized that Tut and I saw Dad differently. After my mouth closed, I told him that Dad is a great Grandfather. Even though I have really been too old to have kids since the day that I had my first one, he is always asking if there will be more. He asked that last summer as well. To his 44 year old daughter.

And he is a great Grandfather. Mostly, I guess, because he loves being one. Wicked Step-Mother is a great Grandmother as well, especially towards Sally. I myself had ‘ colorful’ Grandparents- ones that knew how to do the Charleston, make boot-leg scotch and then drink it con gusto, who tossed aside the hearts of European Nobility ( ok, minor nobility. Alright, dime-a-dozen German nobility) like old socks ,the sort that all of my friends looked at with envy and through clenched teeth I would reply ‘ Yes, I am lucky to have X as a Grandparent’- so I know how lucky our children are. And I know that Dad will worry now every day until this pregnancy is resolved, one way or another.

I wish that I could have played ‘ scatter-brained ‘ a bit longer.

I love New Year’s Eve. I don’t really know why, but somehow it reminds me of the preparations for the first day of school. All of those new pens and new notebooks, just waiting to be filled in neatly, for a change.

We have had a very good year, and while the new year looks a bit uncertain right now, I’m guessing that this will be a fine year as well. For no matter what happens, I know that I am still living the best years of my life.

So tonight we will eat our oliebollen and burp them up for the rest of the evening. We will watch Youp, plebs that we are, and no doubt enjoy him immensely. At midnight we will toast with the kids and open our door to watch the fireworks. Then we will eat worstebroodjes .

Once the kids have returned to their beds, perhaps we will talk about the old year or the new one, but most likely we will look for a movie to watch.

I love New Year’s Eve and wish everyone a fine one as well.

Today is the big day : Han and my sister-in-law have taken the 4 older kids to see K3. Poor Meggie, she would have enjoyed it the most, but no one wants to deal with her booting all of the way to Limburg.

So, she is sitting here, listening to it with me. I love my new speakers.

Thank you, Santa.

I’m up here in ‘my room’. In a fit of pique, I dragged my computer up here.

One of the nice things about being 45 is that, by 45, you know what you are like. It may not be the person that you dream of becoming, but you are no longer a surprise to yourself. I’m a quiet person who hates confrontations. I prefer to hide in my little spoiled housewife life, ignoring – for the most part- the sorrows and hardships that I see around me. I like to think ‘ Physician, heal thyself.’ You know, that my part is trying to make the best of the world around me, as I am able. I may not save the world, but perhaps I can teach reverence for life to the kids. When they find a dying bird or frog, they know that I will come and bring it home.

I am not a depressive type of person at all. In a rather simple minded way, I try to find the bright aspect to everything. And so, the very black depression – about as far as one can go, you know, where you start thinking of the kids and all- I have been in the past few days can only fall under that category ‘It’s hormones’.

Sometimes, I hate the comic relief that that phrase gives, for I don’t find it funny at all. It is rather like one has gone insane, and is no longer oneself at all.

Han and I talked about it tonight. He knows that it is not funny either. I just hope that it lightens up a bit. For, when all is said and done, I haven’t a thing in the world to be so depressed about. Odd that one’s body can be so cruel to oneself.

Hello Sue,

Many greetings,
Jetty

Brabant Blogt !

I am still awaiting a letter from the breeder. Until I receive this, I won’t believe that we have a puppy. You see, even though I was one of the first people on their ‘puppy-list’, they ended up with 7 people for a male, 7 for a female puppy. Somebody has got to go.

Yep, I would have wanted to stick my finger in those holes first.

Wij zijn heel erg blij te kunnen mededelen dat op 1e Kerstdag onze Dutchess en Captain Moritz Berenbont ouders zijn geworden van 10 puppen – 6 reuen en 4 teven.

* We are very happy to announce that our Dutchess and Captain Moritz Berenbont became the parents of 10 puppies – 6 males and 4 females- on Christmas Day.

The grocery stores ( well, actually, most of the stores) have been closed since Tuesday, so today we had to hit a big grocery store to stock up. We ended up at the AH in Waalwijk. Han and Sally dropped me off and then they took off to Loon, to pick up the rest of the family’s home movies.

The shelves were pretty empty. I had actually wanted to have fish for dinner, but there was no sole, no cod. Looking over the meat, there was nothing that I wanted either. Ok, so, chicken. You can always do something with chicken. They had about 4 types of chicken breasts, but the one that caught my eye was the one labeled ‘ No Salmonella‘ .

I guess that I should read AH’s little monthly magazine more closely, I am sure that they explain this more clearly there. All that this label said to me was that all of the other chicken came ‘with’.

Tonight, we had chicken ‘ with ‘. I wonder if we should be expecting any unpleasant surprises tomorrow morning ?

I do believe that I set a new personal record today: I must have checked my e-mail about 40 times. You see, today is the due date of that dog I droned on and on about a few months ago. The Ultra Sound ( I confess, I’m still having problems with the idea that a dog had an U/S and most likely had better pre-natal health care then half of the women in the world, but, I should just lighten up , shouldn’t I ?) showed that the happy, mother-to-be would be having anywhere from 5 to 9 puppies, but the question remains : is there a little male puppy in there for us ?

I rather crashed- emotionally- after Christmas and found myself in a classic ‘…I’m going to eat some worms’ frame of mind and was assured that everything, simply everything was going to go wrong. Even Dutchy, the dog. Yes, I told myself, she would probably have 11 puppies, and they would all be females. And so, for the last 2 days I have been checking all of my lists of breeders, immersing myself in blood-lines and ‘Type’ once again, in search of another litter of puppies that might be due soon. And believe it or not, I have actually succeeded in finding ‘back-up’ puppies for us. The breeder ( a Belgian) contacted me this morning, sending me details on the expected litters and the good news that there was ‘room’ left on their ‘ puppy list’. I have to go over the pedigrees a bit more carefully, but first glance shows that it is the type we like, they are expecting 2 litters in early January, so I am feeling quite proud of myself. Right now, it seems to me , come hell or high water, by March we will at least and at last have two Newfs again.

Just don’t ask me what color they will be.