I am very jealous of people who believe in a God, in an afterlife. I do believe that they live in a kinder world than I do.

But I really don’t know where to place this.

via joy

I have spent a lot of time these past few days mulling over questions which this war has brought to mind. The usual sort of ‘pin’ topics : should those who rattled their sabers for war bear some of the responsibility for the deaths which are occurring, some of the guilt ? And all of these changes that have taken place in America, all of these laws and things that have been set up since 9/11, was there ever a date set when they would be over, that they would end ? Or will they always be there ? Will things ever go back to how they were, how America was ? At what point is a ‘war against terrorism’ over ?

What amount of moral responsibility must a soldier bear ? Is ‘ I didn’t know’ or ‘ I was just following orders’ acceptable ?

These are all just general thoughts that have come up, not necessarily pointed to what is happening today.

I have also spent a lot of time being Mummy-the-nurse, but now everyone is up and about again, able to fend for themselves. Yesterday The Father and I had a long talk about the rebuilding, and I think he was a bit surprised when I pointed out to him that it had been almost 2 years since this all started. I mean, while the rebuilding has caused him some inconvenience, he basically spends his life at the office. By the time he comes home, Mr.Jo is gone, with only a new layer of dust to mark his passing presence.

And so, The Father and I sat at the table and made a list of all that has to be done, room by room. Then The Father poured Mr.Jo a cup of coffee and went through the list with him, one by one, asking how long each job would take. He managed to instill a bit of enthusiasm in Mr.Jo and so for the next few weeks, we will be going full steam ahead, hopefully finishing the work within the house in a few months. But at least, hopefully, an end is in sight.

The last thing we will be putting up is a sort of screened porch. I originally wanted a sort of arbor abutting the backside of the house ( you know, that which shall never be photographed), but it is getting fancier and more complicated each time we talk about it. Whatever. We need some place to put the dogs to dry off in rainy weather and to protect them from the egg-laying flies ( you don’t want to know) in the Summer.

Wait until I tell The Father that I think we need a permit from city hall to build this… ( it took 2 years to get our last permit).

Tomorrow the trial of Volkert van de G. ( suspected of murdering Pim Fortuyn ) begins, almost a year after the assassination of the controversial politician stunned the Netherlands.

Brian links to this article at Salon.com. ( you have to sit through a commercial before you can read it ) :

In increments we have become a different nation. Each step ruffles our feathers just a bit, but the ruckus dies down quickly and we are on our way to the next. Life goes on, and we find ourselves living in a different country without ever having moved.

Reading this certainly is helping me to feel more comfortable with the feelings that I have about this war, to see that I have not become totally alienated from my home, from that which formed me.

Others are reacting the same way that I am.

Are seeing what I see.

While The Father was still feeling poorly today, he was feeling much better than yesterday, and so once the children were off at school, he and I sat down at the kitchen table to discuss the rebuilding. We made lists and charts and time lines, and The Father liaised 3 times during the day with Mr.Jo ( who went to visit some garden yesterday instead of coming to work here, as it was such lovely weather).

We even trotted off to the ‘big’ DIY store and picked up the last things needed for the new bathroom.

A lot was accomplished, including getting Mr.Jo to agree to come in for a few weeks for 4 days a week ( I do believe the argument that The Father used included many references to the little ‘vrouwke’ ( the little woman) and how after almost 2 years, the little woman would like her life back. But I could be wrong… and do I care if I’m referred to as the little woman ? Quite simply put, no, if it gets the work done.)

Here, look at one of the things done today. ( third picture from the bottom).

I think that that looks much better.

Eh, we watched The Siege tonight.

The Siege is extremely bold in its themes; it reminds us of the principles on which this country was founded, and also reminds us that we are just as capable of the horrors that some of the most loathed groups in world history have committed.

How can you not sit and think after a film like that ?

But- of course- that is probably why it aired tonight.

They are all sick. Well, at least, they woke up sick and so everyone has been home today and I have done my duty, played Florence Nightingale to my best ability. Which isn’t saying much, I’m afraid.

Tomorrow all three kids are back to school ( read : off of my computer). The Father is still very sick, so he will still be here and I shall try to remember to smile as I bring yet another glass of juice or Fanta to him.

Good thing my childhood dream wasn’t to work as an airline stewardess. I doubt that I even would have made it through boot camp.

In Germany right now an average of 200 companies per day are closing down. The Father has mentioned this fact to me a number of times this past week, for it seems that as a company, we are going to have to ‘look at our options’.

Business has slowed down since 9/11, and not just ours. Everywhere that he goes, as a topic for small talk, The Father has asked people how business was going. From garbage collectors, transport companies and clients, everyone has complained how slow business was.

And the past few months, with the threat of war hanging in the air, business has been even slower, all around. In fact, right now, in Germany, an average of 200 companies per day are closing shop.

And it is time for us to look into our options.

From left to right : The Boy with Elvis ( who refused to pose today ), The Girl with Buddy and The Baby, who definitely is looking like she would rather be in Philadelphia.

( Week 1 here)

Today it was my turn to watch The Boy’s football team lose. And the other guys were so little. After only winning 1 game in the past three seasons, the boys are beginning to become disheartened.

I really can’t blame them.

On the good side, though, it was a beautiful day to be outside, cold and clear and so peaceful and quiet. As I was about to begin bitching to myself about how deadly boring this losing streak was, I decided to look around, enjoy the landscape instead. And as I looked at the neat rows of trees, the tractor in the background, the vast expanse of blue sky, I wondered how I would feel if suddenly a missile went overhead, something exploded above us.

I decided that there are many things worse than a losing streak.

The Father is sick ( very), The Baby is sick ( very), both continuing in the leit motif of the week.

But at least I’m not sick, so the home keeps rolling on, the red buckets have been strategically placed, I am blessed with a cast iron stomach.

I didn’t watch any news today. Does the word ‘doublespeak’ ring any bells with anyone else ? I don’t know where I picked that word up, but the double-speak I am hearing is getting on my nerves. I wonder if they have had special classes, you know ” Never refer to this as a War. Use the word ‘liberation’ instead’.

I don’t like cloudy language, I will never say that someone has ‘passed on’. They died. Clear language. I miss clear language in this war, this invasion.

In fact, I am almost thinking of making a list of the euphemisms I am hearing.