Finished

Here is a picture of M + M both looking extremely pleased that I've finally finished the large project that I've been working on for some time now. They are both thinking; 'Phew. Maybe she'll stop being such a cranky cow for a bit.' I'm not making any promises. Behind Mads you can see another recently finished project - my latest rug.

Go on. You can say it. It's really weird-looking, isn't it? This is what happens when you launch into a project without any real plan - nothing much at all beyond; 'I'd like there to be circles. And some red.' So I just started making it and it just got weirder and weirder. That strange purpley-pink colour. The orange. I don't know what I was thinking. Sadly it's reminiscent of the way I cook - adding stronger and stronger flavours one after another in a mad panic. The rug is far too ugly to inflict on anyone so I have it hanging over a chair in the dining room which is where I do most of my work and I'm hoping it will act as a reminder as to the importance of planning.

Books have been arriving from everywhere over the last couple of weeks, proving that I'm not the only person who has been busy finishing stuff. First there was the German version of Tweenie Genie:

And then the paperback version of the Fairy School Dropout series which I find so pretty, especially the yellow one which is unusual as I'm not a big fan of yellow for the most part.


And then yesterday the Brazilian version of FSDO arrived:
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I have quite a collection of Portuguese books now. If we end up going to Portugal this year perhaps I'll take them with me and give them to some kid.

So what next? I've got a couple more things to finish before our trip to Oz in March and today I went and bought some more wool. Because I can't seem to sit and watch The Wire without something to do.

Christmas etc

Another city, another pair of crazy shoes.

Our ten days in Amsterdam with Trish, Ol, Kate and Jost went by in a cold, snowy, delightful flash. Kate and Jost moved into their new house on the 24th and while the last thing I would've done would be host Christmas lunch for 13 people the following day this is what Kate did. With grace and elegance. We did help though. For instance, Trish and I spent a delightful couple of hours trimming the Christmas tree on Christmas eve with Kate's gorgeous decorations. That's helpful, isn't it? It was supposed to be a kid-based activity but the kids could not have been less interested. We forced them to hang a few things on and then allowed them to escape.


The photo really doesn't do justice either to Kate's decorations or to the extrodinary trimming abilities of Trish and me. You'll just have to imagine it. It was stunning.

Owing to the lack of a kitchen at Kate's place (it's being installed next week) Christmas lunch was an Australian-style spread with lots of salads and sashimi and prawns which was absolutely fine by me. There was also an impressive dessert-buffet which was absolutely fine by Mads.



A large cardboard box had been installed in the middle of the kitchen-to-be as a sort of make-shift work bench and also to cover up some wires sticking up from the floor. Under instruction from Kate Trish and I wrapped it in Christmas wrap. I wish I'd taken a photo. We did a magnificent job.

So it was a very nice Christmas and a very nice holiday. Kate's house is near the Vondelpark and every morning we would vondel through it, pretending to skate on the ice, admiring all the houses.



No one in Amsterdam seems to have blinds on their windows. Someone on the train told me this is because they are desperate to allow as much light in as possible but Kate had another theory. 'It's to prove that you have nothing to hide,' she said.

One morning in the Vondelpark, near the iron igloo, we found this tree.



The next day the temperature soared to 2 degrees and the face disappeared.

The Brief, Tragic Life of a Snowman

On Sunday Thieu and Mads went to the Platz out the front of our flat and built a snowman. The only carrots we had were some left-over roasted ones so the nose was on the droopy side. Mads was unwilling to sacrifice any of the sticks in her stick collection for the snowman's arms and suggested Thieu use leeks instead. Which he did. In the typical way of snowpeople-building Mads lost interest fairly quickly but Thieu became deeply involved. Emotionally involved. I started to worry. There are really only two main crimes around here - bike theft and snowman desctruction. With this in mind I took lots of photos of the one that Thieu and Mads' built. But after we returned inside Thieu kept checking out the window to see if the snowman was still there and growling menacingly below his breath whenever anyone got too close to it.

Of course, the inevitable occurred. In the afternoon Mads and I went ice skating and by the time we returned home all that was left of the snowman was two frozen leeks, laying on the ground. I've no idea what happened to the roast carrot.

We came inside and I decorated Mads' stick collection with baubles. I knew I'd find a use for it eventually.

That Time of Year

Last year it felt like one day I rounded a corner in Frankfurt and tripped over the Christmas market. I remember I was shocked. It seemed so early. I probably grumbled something along the lines of; 'I refuse to think about Christmas before my birthday,' which is the same thing I've been grumbling for some time now. But this year it was different. This year I was impatient for the market to appear. Perhaps it was because the market was so Glühwein-y good last year, despite the crowds, despite the high-tack factor. Or perhaps it was because I was happy for anything to come along that might stop me from thinking about my birthday. Which was rather a large one. I even decorated the Christmas tree two days before the Big Day because I was so keen to forget about the whole thing.

Then the Birthday came and I must admit I sulked for most of the day, especially as Thieu was away and I was feeling rather neglected. But then in the evening my upstairs neighbour came down with a cake she'd made and the downstairs neighbour came up with a present and so I stopped sulking and invited them in for a glass of sekt and suddenly things were much brighter.


Then Thieu came home with flowers and Mads gave me the very lovely Ü you can see in the picture above and I started to feel quite cheery because I have always wanted an Ü of my very own and now I have one. And I also received a camera which I used to photograph the Ü. And we went out for dinner across the road and I had goose which is the sort of thing people of my age probably shouldn't eat any more but I did it anyway and it was delicious. So it was all very fine in the end, you see?

And since then we have partaken of many seasonally-appropriate past times. There's been much arranging and re-arranging of the new "Activity Scene" (as the kid calls it) which was delivered by St Nicholaus on Dec 11. Generally Saint N fills children's shoes up with lollies on this day - or sticks if they're naughty - but I think he was a little confused by Mad's announcement the night before that she hoped he would bring her 'a really nice stick' for her stick collection and he therefore decided that an Activity Scene was the safest option.

What else? There's been much eating of snow. And also laying down in snow and moving arms and legs to make snow angels - something Mads learnt to do by watching Charlie and Lola. There's also been that fun parental past-time known as 'lugging around all the stuff that your kid peels off when she enters a train or shop'followed by that equally fun game; 'putting all the stuff back on when you leave the train or shop.' Yeah, we love those. And of course visiting of the Weihnacht Markts.
I've noticed a rather lovely symbiotic relationship between Glühwein stands and carousels. Where you find one you generally find the other not far away and it works beautifully for all concerned. Child goes around and around on the carousel while the parents keep toastily warm drinking wine. Happiness for all.

Now, does the kid look sick in the photo above? Not really does she? But apparently she had scarlet fever. It took us another two days to find that out and even the doctor who administered the test seemed surprised when it came up positive. No one over here seemed fazed by it. Perhaps it's just another seasonal past time.

So that's the year I guess. This time next week we'll be in Amsterdam - or at least on our way. I wonder if they have Christmas markets there?

Madrid

A couple of weekends ago we went to Madrid for the weekend to meet up with Malena and Raffa (who must, surely, win the prize for most chilled four-month old in the world), eat lots of Spanish food and, you know, see Madrid a bit as well. Most of our goals were achieved - especially the eating part. You know you're on holiday when your breakfast consists of doughnuts dunked in melted chocolate. Luckily we did lots of walking too - mostly just wandering around the old town and the gardens and wondering how long after doughnuts you need to wait before buying an ice-cream (answer: not very long at all). We did make it to La Guernica but there was a lot that we didn't get to see. So I guess we'll have to go back. What a shame.

Malena mentioned that children's flamenco outfits could be purchased from most of the tourist shops and that perhaps Mads, given her well-known love of dressing up, might be interested in receiving one?

She was. Her favourite bit were the polka-dotted "high heels". Did I ever think I would be the kind of mother who would buy high heels for her four year old? No I did not. Did Mads love them? Yes she did. They were so very clippity- cloppity, you see, and there are so many cobblestones in Madrid to test shoes like these out on.

Mads wore the flamenco outfit all weekend - and she swore the shoes didn't hurt. If we'd been walking around in Frankfurt I'm sure we would've received a lot of disapproving stares from old ladies, but in Madrid all the old ladies thought she was gorgeous.

Even when we weren't out reaping in the old lady compliments Mads continued to wear the outfit. Ever wondered what a flamenco dancer would look like on an exercise bike?

It was reminiscent of when she wore a Buzz Lightyear outfit for an entire summer. We have shots of her on the beach with her shovel and spade dressed as Buzz. Eating sushi dressed as Buzz. Asleep dressed as Buzz.

Mads wore the costume back to Frankfurt on the plane and on the Ubahn back to our house. But since returning she's only worn it once. Perhaps she realises that she won't receive the same kind of adoring attention over here. Or perhaps she's saving it for mid-winter so she can pop it on over her snow suit.

The Chateau

A couple of weekends ago we motored down to stay at the Chateau de Percey. I think you have to motor to a chateau, don't you?

We went with some visiting Australian friends who'd found the place on the internet, arranged a very reasonable off-season rate and also organised the car in which we did the motoring. Quite a bit of motoring as it turned out. I am finding it difficult to rid myself of that dearly-held Australian-falsehood that everything in Europe is close. I mean, I guess it is if you're say 'it take two hours to get from Frankfurt to France.' But that's only to the border. It took us almost 8 hours to get from Frankfurt to our Chateau. Our chateau. I like the way that sounds.

It was worth the drive, truly it was.
And actually the drive wasn't too bad from my perspective as I simply sat in the back and drank champagne with my severely jet-lagged friend and sang Playschool songs at our bemused children. We stopped for dinner at what we think must have been a French version of TGIFs called Flunch which yes, I'll admit, we went to because after half a bottle of champers seemed like the funniest name of a restaurant in the world. I think I understand where the name comes from now. It's the noise your stomach makes as you're leaving the restaurant.

Luckily, after sleeping a night in the Chateau we became a little more classy and on Saturday morning we found a farmers' market in a neighbouring town where we bought far too much cheese and fish and local tomatoes etc than was necessary for a long weekend. We stood in a queue for some pain au chocolat that were so warm and delicious that once they were gone I almost got back at the end of the line and waited all over again. We went for a ride along a canal and Mads consolidated her newly acquired bike-riding skills. I learnt to ride in the quiet suburban streets of Adelaide. It took me ages to master it. Perhaps I would've learnt faster had I been learning in Burgundy - especially if falling off had meant tumbling into a canal.

We went for a walk and discovered, to the consternation of one particular member of our party, that French Nacktschnecken are not only as large as the German variety, but also bright orange.
You can probably imagine the horror.

Then, when we were all exhausted and Mads had started whimpering, 'I just want to go back to the chateau,' we returned and had a three course dinner cooked for us - a present for me arranged by my dear Aussie friend in honour of a certain rather large upcoming milestone-type birthday. It was a wonderful gift. We talked about things we'd done over the twenty years since we'd first met, how amazing kids are in general and ours in particular, about living overseas, travel and about a friend who had died just the week before. One who'd only just made it to the milestone birthday we were now celebrating for me. It felt like the right setting for all of these conversations.

Slugs and Snails

Autumn is here and the rainy weather has delivered me a new favourite German word:Nacktschnecke.It means 'naked snail' and it's what you called a slug over here. We learned this word on a train recently when we were going to meet some friends for a camping trip. A little girl came and sat across from us and stared at Thieu. 'Nacktshnecke,' she said, meaningfully. 'Nacktshnecke, Nacktshnecke, Nacktshnecke.' We had no idea at the time what it meant. 'I think she's saying she wants a night time snack,' whispered Matt, although it was clearly daytime.

When we met our friends and the native German speaker translated the word for us. His English wife (who is also fluent in German) frowned. 'Is that the word for slug?' she said. 'I've been calling them 'snails without houses'. No wonder everyone sniggers when I say it.'

Mads is terrified of the slugs. In her defence they are huge over here - way bigger than Australian ones. I commented on this to our friends and they looked quite proud. 'You may have huge spiders,' they said, 'but we win when it comes to slugs.'

Perhaps Thieu still had snails on the brain the next day when he went to collect Mads from kindy. They were having their afternoon snack of crispbread known as Knäckebrot. Thieu likes practicing his German at the kindy. Generally if you try to speak in German over here the other person will sympathetically switch into flawless English. Kindy is the only chance Thieu gets for a decent convo.
'Are you enjoying your Schneckerbrot?' he said, cheerily. Schneckerbrot means snail bread. A number of the four year olds literally fell off their ikea chairs laughing.

Mads and I had a play-date with a kindy friend last week. The mother said 'I heard about the Schneckerbrot incident.' I assumed she'd heard it from her son, but no. The kindy teacher had told everyone about it at a parent night we didn't attend. Apparently there was much mirth.

Today it is sunny and I'm looking forward to going to the airport to pick up Fi, Peter and Thomas. Thankfully there are no Nacktschnecken to be seen.