Oh Converse,
When I was young and desperately wanting to look cooler than I felt, you made me feel like I could have been in the Ramones.
When I grew older and felt comfortable in my own skin, you were comfortable on my feet.
Now, when I am yet older still, but am once again needing to look cooler than I feel, you give my mom clothes, and my ego, the edge I need to not succumb completely into the fleece sweaters and elastic waistbands wasteland.
Thank you.
Monday, May 9, 2011
Monday, April 25, 2011
Monday, April 18, 2011
Chomp
Yesterday afternoon, I noticed that a lone pansy had grown in the middle of our backyard. I don't know where it came from, because there are no pansies growing in the area, but it's little face sure was cute.
Last night, it rained.
Today, the head of the pansy is gone, save for a tiny bit of one leaf. I expect that will be gone soon, too.
Damn you, snails. Damn you.
Last night, it rained.
Today, the head of the pansy is gone, save for a tiny bit of one leaf. I expect that will be gone soon, too.
Damn you, snails. Damn you.
Monday, April 11, 2011
Stumbling towards domesticity
Once upon a time, I *did* things. I read, I went to 'gigs', I drank lattes and read the paper in cafes, I went to the gym, I had a job, I traveled (Note: you can read a bit about that here). What I didn't do was partake much in the domestic arts.
Then, I got married, moved to a sleepy town in Holland and had a baby. Now, I do other things. I do laundry, I change diapers, I go for walks, I make dinner, I do dishes...Well, okay, I still travel a bit, but traveling with a baby is a whole different beast. Somehow, I've traded in being informed and worldly for being a housewife and mother.
Still, if you're going to do something, you might as well do it well, right? To this end, I've started teaching myself to cook. I've bought a sewing machine and have attempted a few items, I'm trying to make garden, I bake, I do my best to reduce, reuse and recycle and most important of all, I'm trying to raise my daughter as best as possible. This is the chronicle of my journey towards domestic bliss.
Then, I got married, moved to a sleepy town in Holland and had a baby. Now, I do other things. I do laundry, I change diapers, I go for walks, I make dinner, I do dishes...Well, okay, I still travel a bit, but traveling with a baby is a whole different beast. Somehow, I've traded in being informed and worldly for being a housewife and mother.
Still, if you're going to do something, you might as well do it well, right? To this end, I've started teaching myself to cook. I've bought a sewing machine and have attempted a few items, I'm trying to make garden, I bake, I do my best to reduce, reuse and recycle and most important of all, I'm trying to raise my daughter as best as possible. This is the chronicle of my journey towards domestic bliss.
Friday, April 2, 2010
Gimme some suga'
Vanilla is non-existent in the Netherlands. Ask any ex-pat what they get friends and family to bring them from home, and the answer is inevitably 'vanilla'. I've mentioned this to Dutch friends, and they're always confused. "Well, it's right there in the supermarket", they say. "Perhaps you're not looking hard enough." To be fair, I've found small bottles of that nasty 'essence of vanilla' stuff, but the real thing has yet to appear to me. Thus, I've been toying with the idea of making my own vanilla. Of course, I've still got loads left from the family express. For fun, though, I've been looking into the exact 'how' of it, and low and behold, I came across something called 'vanilla sugar'. Turns out, it's vanilla infused sugar - you substitute a bit for regular sugar in place of liquid to liquid vanilla to same effect. And, sure enough, it's right there in the baking aisle of the grocery store. Huh.
Still, I've got an itch to make my own now. Today I went out and bought a mason jar, a vanilla pod, threw it all together and placed it in a dark cupboard I'm trying very hard not to peak.
Still, I've got an itch to make my own now. Today I went out and bought a mason jar, a vanilla pod, threw it all together and placed it in a dark cupboard I'm trying very hard not to peak.
Sunday, November 23, 2008
Choices, Choices
After months of weighing our options, we've settled on a destination. Really, when it comes down to it, there's not all that much of a choice. With Jason working 2 1/2 hours away from Amsterdam, commuting was out of the question. We toyed, off and on, with the idea of moving to Dwingeloo, a village of under 3000, half an hour away from the nearest train station but within biking distance of Jason's work. If there's one thing I'm certain of though is that I'm not a country-livin' girl, so however picturesque Dwingeloo might be, it had to be veto-d.
This left two towns of any stature left within reasonable traveling distance, Groningen to the North, and Zwolle to the South. Of the two, Groningen is certainly more appealing. With a major university, the city is the only major center in the North of the country, making it one of the more youthful, active cities in the country. Zwolle, by contrast, is an unremarkable, smaller city an hour and a half North of Amsterdam.
Our first instinct was immediately Groningen. However, thinking a bit more critically, it became less clear that this was the obvious choice. While certainly a happening city, it's by no means got all that the South has to offer. Two and a half hours away from the international airport can make a huge difference when you've already spent 15+ hours on a plane, and this goes for both us as well as any visitors we hope to tempt into visiting us. The issue of visitors applies too to simply visiting the Netherlands. While I'd like to think that family and friends making the trip over here are here simply for us, the majority of the major tourist destinations are in the South, which would require them to stay in a hotel away from us, commute five hours a day, or simply forgo the pleasures that Delft, Gouda, Amsterdam et al have to offer.
Furthermore, even family relations within the Netherlands would likely suffer. Jason has a large and close-knit extended family here and like most Amsterdammers, anything half an hour or more away is simply unimaginably far. Which is fair, in the case anyway, as I certainly wouldn't be too pleased to be making a five hour round-trip for a three hour dinner.
And then, there's the question of work. While I have a contract in Amsterdam that will go until the 1st of January, I'm crossing my fingers that it'll be renewed. Even if it isn't though, I've started to create a small but growing network of contacts down here that would be less effective in the North. All in all, while Groningen sounds like a great place to live, it doesn't seem to fit our particular needs.
And so, by process of elimination, we've arrived at Zwolle.
This left two towns of any stature left within reasonable traveling distance, Groningen to the North, and Zwolle to the South. Of the two, Groningen is certainly more appealing. With a major university, the city is the only major center in the North of the country, making it one of the more youthful, active cities in the country. Zwolle, by contrast, is an unremarkable, smaller city an hour and a half North of Amsterdam.
Our first instinct was immediately Groningen. However, thinking a bit more critically, it became less clear that this was the obvious choice. While certainly a happening city, it's by no means got all that the South has to offer. Two and a half hours away from the international airport can make a huge difference when you've already spent 15+ hours on a plane, and this goes for both us as well as any visitors we hope to tempt into visiting us. The issue of visitors applies too to simply visiting the Netherlands. While I'd like to think that family and friends making the trip over here are here simply for us, the majority of the major tourist destinations are in the South, which would require them to stay in a hotel away from us, commute five hours a day, or simply forgo the pleasures that Delft, Gouda, Amsterdam et al have to offer.
Furthermore, even family relations within the Netherlands would likely suffer. Jason has a large and close-knit extended family here and like most Amsterdammers, anything half an hour or more away is simply unimaginably far. Which is fair, in the case anyway, as I certainly wouldn't be too pleased to be making a five hour round-trip for a three hour dinner.
And then, there's the question of work. While I have a contract in Amsterdam that will go until the 1st of January, I'm crossing my fingers that it'll be renewed. Even if it isn't though, I've started to create a small but growing network of contacts down here that would be less effective in the North. All in all, while Groningen sounds like a great place to live, it doesn't seem to fit our particular needs.
And so, by process of elimination, we've arrived at Zwolle.
Monday, November 3, 2008
My favorite Dutch word
I started intensive Dutch lessons yesterday, putting on hold the job search for the next month. I've been in the Netherlands for a little under two months now and have managed to pick up a few essentials but they tend to be a hodgepodge of nouns with very few conjunctions, verbs or adjectives. Basically, I can point and name vegetables, fruits and beers.
The next month will find me in class from 9.30 to noon everyday and studying at home from 12.30 until the wee hours, cramming in over three thousand words. It sounds impressive and I can already attest to the amount of work involved, but this weekend, Jason stole their thunder. He taught me the greatest Dutch word in existence.
We were at an outdoor field hockey match on a rainy cold Sunday when I learned it. I was wet and chilled and as we walked past a french fry stand, the smell of warm, greasy potatoes wafted over, filling the air with one of life's sweetest smells. And, you gotta love them, the Dutch have a word for it -- pataatlucht, or 'sweet potato air'.
The next month will find me in class from 9.30 to noon everyday and studying at home from 12.30 until the wee hours, cramming in over three thousand words. It sounds impressive and I can already attest to the amount of work involved, but this weekend, Jason stole their thunder. He taught me the greatest Dutch word in existence.
We were at an outdoor field hockey match on a rainy cold Sunday when I learned it. I was wet and chilled and as we walked past a french fry stand, the smell of warm, greasy potatoes wafted over, filling the air with one of life's sweetest smells. And, you gotta love them, the Dutch have a word for it -- pataatlucht, or 'sweet potato air'.
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