At last, it * seems* that all of our computers are straightened out ( read : I won’t have to share my computer with three other people. No, I do not play the wrestling game, nor do I play Facebook games, no matter what it looks like, although if you play Facebook games, The Girl and Harry, an old family friend are crazy about them, let me know).

A lot has happened since I was last able to write. Yesterday, The Girl may have broken up with The Boyfriend, although I do not think that she is ready for this. Usually a very polite and pleasant young man, lately he has not been that polite nor that pleasant, but- most importantly- he is not treating our first born in the manner that her very biased parents think that she should be treated, as a princess.

On Monday, The Girl and The Father announced that *we* would be preparing the dinner for Opa’s birthday today ( Wednesday). Let’s be real for a moment, *we* is *me*. I rather Henny Pennyed out, as no one could tell me how many people would be coming for dinner, somewhere between 8 and 10. I called Opa, got the lowdown, and spent yesterday dicing and slicing and shopping. It’ll work, otherwise, next time my sister-in-law ( the gourmet cook) can do this.

But the tensest day of my forced silence was about a week or so ago. It was very questionable whether or not The Boy would pass this year. He took his finals. And then he was told that if he did not get a phone call on, like, Wednesday, by 8pm, he had passed.

He could not eat dinner that day, he so so nervous. He finally went up and played on his PS3. I was to call him if the phone rang.

I was watching one of those house shows that I like so much, half way listening for the Bakelite to ring ( ring, ring, not buzz, buzz) when I heard the bells from City Hall ringing for 8pm. I checked the news channel, and sure enough, it was 8pm. I ran up to The Boy’s room, calling, Boy ! Boy! He opened his bedroom door with a strained look on his face. Boy ! You did it ! You passed !

He thought that I had come to say that the phone was ring- ringing away. We hugged, we danced, it was wonderful. The Boy passed.

A few days later, he came to me. You know, he said, I really had a good report card. And he did. So involved with whether or not he would pass, we actually did not look at his grades, beyond them being passing. He had a really good report card. Oh, not straight A’s, but a strong B, B+ average. For a kid whom everyone said last January, whoops, we are going to have to repeat this year, he really did stinkin’ well.

It is good to be back.

In February, 2007, the land for our new plant in India was blessed.

Today, we finally received the last stamp and production can start next week.

After waiting so very long to go through so much red tape, it is hard to believe that the waiting is finally over.

Next week…

Tomorrow the temps are supposed to rise above 30 degrees. In The Netherlands, we are talking swamp weather, frizz until your hair falls off weather. And I am not putting the stove or oven on tomorrow. No way, Jose.

We are having a Salad Nicoise tomorrow. I have never made this before, but I have had it before. I did most of the preps today, it is all chilling. The dressing is pretty good, although the olive oil ( or at least the olive oil we are buying) has a bit of a bitter after taste, and other oils are simply too flat.

I will love this. The boys will like it , the girls will loathe it.

Well, tough titty. I’ll buy a loaf of French bread tomorrow and they can eat bread.

The advantages of being the cook, and a cook who loves anchovies and vinaigrette .

We have received a cherry invite : an Italian couple that we have known for at least 25 years invited us to spend time in their guest apartment at their home at Lago Maggiore.

We visited them there about two years ago. They are lovely people and their home is simply gorgeous. They built that apartment with the memory of the time that they spent with us in Viareggio : here is the fridge, we said, here is the key, have a great time. We do not have to be barnacles. They taught me how to cook a few dishes then, we had fun.

The Father brought up the invite yesterday : he wanted just the two of us to go down there. Now, there is no doubt that I need to get away from here, but The Baby. She is only 10. I can’t leave her, no one will brush her hair right for one. I said no yesterday, but told The Father that I would indeed think about it.

Today sealed the decision. Let me see, was it when The Girl sprayed air freshener in The Boy’s face, or when The Boy threw water balloons out of his bedroom window, hitting the sun bathing Girl’s telephone and her new book ? Or was it when chatting with The Girl and I commented, well, I know that you will have The Boyfriend spend the night here and I don’t think that The Baby will like that and she said that she had already talked with Baby and Baby would not mind ?

Maybe The Father and the three cherubs will go down there. This is option two.

Our *home network* is being revamped ( read : the only computer in the house that works is mine). I am now sharing my computer ( read : I have 5 minutes a day on it ) with everyone.

Hence the silence.

Today, I wanted to get another book to read.

My best guess was that is was in our Little House On The Prairie Bookcase on the third floor.

Now, I went up on the left side, the smaller part of the picket fence, checking shelf after shelf of books. Not finding what I was looking for, I took a right. This is the part of the bookcase right behind the whole picket fence mess.

I hit the end of that and was going to take another right, but the floor was not much wider than one of my feet. No way Jose, I am out of here.

Then I realized where I was. I had just walked over a floor not much wider than one of my feet, and if I looked down, it was a ten foot drop. I was right there, on the photo labeled after Day 3, where that board is adding width to the floor.

I was really scared.

I dropped to my knees, but of course, the floor was not wide enough for both. I had to scissor them. There was nothing to hold on to. This was really the longest yard. I made myself scoot back, inch my inch, until I hit the wider part of the floor.

I was so stinkin´ scared.

Once I got back on the stairs, I realized that I could have checked most of the books over there from the staircase, and, of course, the book that I was looking for was under my bed.

It still amazes me how afraid I am of heights. This only started about 15 years ago, after two falls from high places and I was not even hurt. I cannot go up higher than 4 feet, and then I really have to force myself.

So much for the climbing roses.

When The Boy came home from school today, I had to break the news to him.

Boy, something terrible has happened.

He sat down.

Stinky, I continued, is in the washing machine.

He was visibly relieved, for he thought that Grandpa had died.

I explained what had happened :

On Mondays, I change his sheets. I stripped his bed and went up to the laundry room and started washing those sheets. I then got his clean sheets and went back to make his bed.

I had the sheets and blankets on and went to do the pillows. Usually, I put Sitnky on top of the stripped pillows, but Stinky wasn’t there. I raced up to the laundry room and peered into the window of the washing machine, I related, but it was too late, for the machine was full of water and I could see Stinky going around and around ( here I rolled my head around and around like a washing machine).

Do you think he’ll make it ? The Boy asked me.

I really don’t know, but he is yellow now.

Then he gave me a suspicious look and asked me : Is this one of those accidents on purpose ?

I drew myself up in my chair and said : I have been protecting that blanket for 15 years. I have smuggled this blanket to various foreign countries IN MY HAND LUGGAGE. I would NEVER hurt Stinky.

Then a friend of his appeared at the door, and the topic of the past and future of Stinky had to be dropped.

More Stinky posts :

Here

Here ( my personal favorite Stinky post)

Here

Here

Here

I have my own private Iago.

I do not recommend this as a way of life.

I watched the game with Destie, also known as *Jaws*, in the front room, the coolest room in the house. Elvis could have come as well, but he preferred the kitchen. We have to keep the dogs inside right now, it is so warm and so humid.

But Holland won. I never expected this. Against Brazil. My favorite player is Kuijt.

Always look at the bright side of life. De dum, de dum …..

The Father called me today, asking me to arrange lunch for 7.

I did this, with the help of The Boy and The Girl.

Opa is simply shattered. The Girl got him to eat something.

When I saw him, I simply hugged him and said, you poor boy.

The Father and The Girl are going to stay there for a while with him.

They are going to do shopping tomorrow. While I gave them a bag of food, I said, in a quiet voice, you have to buy him perishables. Bread, he is probably out of cigarettes, milk, vegetables, fruit.

The Girl knows his eating habits, listen to her. We bought quite a number of things that he likes to eat today. In the bag.

As usual, I have no idea when The Father and The Girl will return. The Father joked, never.

I have never seen a human being so terribly lost as Opa is now.