gratitude

I asked Ellie what she was thankful for yesterday. "Mom and Dad and books." Later she added music and some names of friends and family. That's the beginning of great list when you're two. Ours at thirty two is lengthier, but its essence the same. We're thankful for you all, far and near, and blessings great and small. Sending love, gratitude and hopes for peace. Happy Thanksgiving!

from Messenger, by Mary Oliver

My work is loving the world.
Here the sunflowers, there the hummingbird--equal seekers of sweetness.
Here the quickening yeast; there the blue plums.
Here the clam deep in the speckled sand.

Are my boots old? Is my coat torn?
Am I no longer young, and still not half-perfect? Let me keep my mind on what matters,
which is my work,

which is mostly standing still and learning to be astonished.
The phoebe, the delphinium.
The sheep in the pasture, and the pasture.
Which is mostly rejoicing, since all the ingredients are here,

which is gratitude, to be given a mind and a heart and these body-clothes,
a mouth with which to give shouts of joy . . .

David Sedaris on Sinterklaas

Special thanks to Andy for this gem on Sinterklaas (versus Santa Clause) with special attention to the whole Zwarte Piet phenomenon. It's so good, it must be brought out from the "comments" and into the open. It has some great footage of the Sinterklaas hysteria that we're living in now. And as Andy said, it's not meant for kids. Click for: Sedaris on Sinterklaas and Zwarte Piet

Sinterklaas and Zwarte Piet arrive

We've just had a really Dutch weekend. Sinterklaas and his Zwarte Piets (kind of like elves, but literally Black Petes) arrived in Maastricht from Spain, spreading cheer and candy and ushering in the Christmas season. As their boats came up the Maas River, thousands of children crowded on the bridges and banks to catch a glimpse of the Dutch Santa Claus. Following his safe arrival on shore, Sinterklaas and the Zwarte Piets paraded through the town. Some of the Zwarte Piets did bicycle tricks, some were in a marching band, some threw candy--all looked remarkably like Dutch people, only with a different shade of skin. I couldn't help laughing at how much people were getting into this (lots of costumes, lots of singing "welcome Sinterklaas") and how the whole Zwarte Piet thing just wouldn't fly at home. That evening Ellie left her shoes by the door and woke up to find that Sinterklaas and the Zwarte Piets had dropped by with a gift. She's now in the habit of peeking in every store window to see if there's a Zwarte Piet or Sinterklaas on display and wanting to stop to admire each new likeness, so we move really painfully slowly these days. It seems this whole Sinterklaas thing is a good deal for Dutch kids as they get gifts from the middle of November right up until Christmas. What have we gotten ourselves into?

getting ready

Here's Ellie practicing being a big sister with "baby Paul". Click to watch the video.

changes afoot

Being far away feels much more real when life shifts (or adds to) its foundations. And so it feels odd to be announcing, via the blog, that we're expecting another baby this summer. This is very welcome news for us, although Ellie's not so sure just yet. Although I usually make a point not to write about other folks' news, I should note that once again we're joining my sister Emily and her husband Dan, as well as a few other good friends, in this time of expectation. (Hopefully those two aren't feeling stalked in life.) There is much to be sorted out, especially where this baby will be born, but that will come in time. In the meantime, we're well and enjoying Europe without all the wine and coffee. And since I've already broken my rule about sharing others' news, I will add that we're celebrating a victory for students, teachers, families and the general progress of Austin, Minnesota in the election of my mom to the school board. I'm proud of my folks for staying positive through an at-times rough campaign. And I used to be the rabble rouser while my mother was more concerned with domestic issues . . . how the tables turn. Sending love to you all.

Joining or not and leisure in cold weather

I was just writing to a friend about the difficulty of finding close friendships somewhere when you know you'll only be a year. While the 12-18 month stint in Memphis turned out to be just shy of 12, we found it easy to make friends. We found friends of friends from other places, neighbor friends and also friends from La Leche League, which is a group of super cool women trying to raise children in a mindful kind of way. We were lucky. In Memphis, at least with LLL, I was a joiner. We've been lucky here, too, but people keep moving away one by one, like we will one day, and we're stuck wondering how much effort to put forth, which people probably wonder about us also. I helped out (very peripherally) with Ellie's school Halloween party and met a whole bunch of neat people from around the world, her school being an international school. But then there's always the sizing up of each other's friendship-ability that always asks first, "how long will you be here?" People have been very welcoming to me and have encouraged me to join various groups around here, some for mothers, some for parents, some religiously orientated. As I decide how much of myself to put forth, given the year we'll be here and how many visitors we'll be receiving over this year, I start to get the feeling that I'm not a huge joiner. Part of the value of LLL in Memphis was, given how the city's overall culture was extraordinarily conservative, that it attracted like-minded women/kiddos who were passionate yet non-judgmental, offering alternatives to not uncommon Memphian attitudes that included a dose of racism, etc. There's not much I see around here that I don't want to emulate, let alone want to resist. So perhaps it's the need for joining that's left me. In the meantime we're meeting our neighbors, slowly still, but nevertheless enjoying all those connections that seem to fall into place while hoping to keep alive those from other parts of our shared life.

It's a quiet season now as things chill around here. What's different from Minnesota winters is how it doesn't dry out (at least not yet) and the grass is still a vibrant green, the leaves holding onto their colors and their trees for so long. On Sunday after Kim flew for home, we took a few hours' long bike ride through the Dutch and Belgian countryside past half-harvested fields, pumpkin stands, orchards full of apples. We warmed up in a Belgian village cafe where every table was full and coffee and beer were flowing. Ellie had a waffle. Despite the chill in the air, the trails were full of bikers and hikers, the cafes' outdoor tables full of folks enjoying a rain-free Sunday. We realize that life is good, life is rich, and just for now, not very complicated, and we are so grateful. Holy leisure eludes us too much at home, and we are learning its value and wisdom. One friend who moved home to Minneapolis last month writes how hard it is to find that at home and I remember years of feeling I would never find a restful moment. So even as Ryan's project ramps up and he's often home late, we're taking in what the season holds, enjoying each other and the many gifts we've been given. Love to all and hopes for a rest filled advent.