Oh, the wind is terrible. I am quite frightened. The window here just blew open.
The Girl said that she heard tiles flying off of the roof.
Eh.

You know, we are having one stinking dark and stormy night here. Car alarms keep going off. These storms usually do occur when the lord and master is away…

A few years ago, I used to read this blog by this woman. It was and still is a fine blog, but my interests have sortof changed, so I don’t stop by there anymore. But she wrote something a year or so ago that has always stuck in my mind. In this piece, she was basically complaining that Dutch children seemed to think that the perfect meal was a schnitzel with apple sauce and fries. Or a Happy Meal. She then went on to talk about the various and exotic foods that she grew up eating and wondered where the eating culture in the Netherlands was heading to.

I didn’t really agree with her, but who was I to question her authority ?

But that piece came to mind this morning, when I asked the kids what they wanted for dinner. When The Father is gone, I let them choose what we will have for dinner.

We didn’t have Happy Meals tonight, nor did we feast on schnitzels, apple sauce and fries. We had penne with a carbonara sauce, a salad and french bread.

As we were waiting in the living room for Oma and Opa to come and pick up The Baby for a day with them, the phone rang. It was The Fathet. With an unexpected 2 hour delay in Paris, he arrived safely in New Delhi. Unfortunately, he slept until what was mid-day, local time, and won’t be able to see the Taj Mahal ( it’s a four hour drive away). But he is going to take a hotel tour of the city and that should be quite impressive, to his Dutch eyes. And then tomorrow he heads off for Calcutta.

He spoke to each of the children, oddly enough asking all three how the weather was here, but they were pleased to hear from him, that he had landed safely. And when Oma and Opa arrived a few minutes after his call, they too were glad that all was well.

In my comments, I brought up the fact that The Father has been talking- in a not so joking manner- about us moving to India. To Madras, in fact. If we didn’t have children, if we could retain ownership of our home here, I would probably jump in, say sure, I’m game- for a part of me is. In the comments, it was mentioned that it would be a great experience for the children. The parent in me agrees that it would be.

But the child in me who grew up on three different continents reminds me that I swore that if I ever had children, they would never grow up like I did.

Rootless.

With The Father gone, I am coming a bit out of my usual torpor and trying to do some different, more special things in the house. The Boy is quite glum about The Father’s absence, even though- when I faced the sad eyed lad- at 5 pm The Father is never home unless it is the weekend and so his absence at 5 was, well, the norm.

So tonight we had pizza. The Father will not eat cheese, period, and while it is quite simple to find a pizza without cheese in Viareggio, it is impossible here. I haven’t had pizza for months, so I spent an enormous amount of energy trying to decide what we should get. The children wanted some calzone, which they had the last time the baby-sitter was here. I’m a bit of a purist, not liking meat on a pizza- oh, what to do, what to do. Expecting that the dogs would enjoy some pizza and calzone, I ordered one of each. I had about a third of the pizza, and the children went through the rest like a plague of locusts. Zoomp ! It’s gone, sorry, puppos.

Tonight, they are all going to sleep together in The Girl’s room. I have made it clear that this will only happen when there is no school the next day . The Girl and best friend dragged the mattresses from Baby’s room over to Girl’s today.

I wonder if anyone will sleep ?

The children said goodbye to The Father last night. First there was Baby. He held her hand and asked her if she knew where he was going ? India, replied the bright girl. Yes, India. I’ll be gone for two weeks ( blank look on bright girl’s face), which is a very long time ( she understands ‘very long time’ ). You be a good girl and listen to mommy ( when pigs fly crosses my mind, but it’s their farewell scene).

Later on in the evening, when their bedtime rolled around, The Father said goodbye to The Boy and The Girl. First The Boy. With a Napoleon-stepping -onto- the- boat-which- will-bring-him-to-Elba -and-looking-back-towards-France look on his face, The Boy told The Father that he would miss him.

Then The Girl said goodbye. Weeping, she asked him if his plane would crash, explode, a bird fly into one of it’s engines. If he would contract that chicken fever , malaria, the plague. If he would be kidnapped by terrorists, shot while being mugged… you get the idea.

She’s such a comfort the day before one must step into an airplane, always has been.

New entry at LIT.

Big news here today was the amount of snow that fell during the night and then during the day. I don’t know exactly how much it was- it looked like 3-4 inches to me, maybe more- what do I know- but it was beautiful packing snow and more than we have had in years.

To show how novel this much snow is in the Netherlands, during school today, the children were allowed to spend two hours outside, playing in the snow, building snowmen on the dikes, sliding down the dikes. After school, the children took their sleds and went back on the dikes. While The Boy doesn’t have a sled ( well, we just never had enough snow for a sled…), he joined the children up on the dikes.

He returned home about an hour later, rosy cheeked, smiling and soaking wet : on a borrowed slide he was unable stop as he zoomed down the dike and landed in a small canal. He had a wonderful time.

It was indeed a special, beautiful day.

Old photo, old friend.

Where is that Mahler ?

Better yet, where is Mr.Robert with the solution to this suck-suck-suck connection I have at the moment ? By the way, if I haven’t visited you lately, it’s because HAL is being quite capricious : I never know from one moment to the next who he will let me visit.

Snow on the walk to the grocery store.