Netherlands PS + camp

I truly loved hearing from so many of you after my Netherlands post, and I apologize for not having replied yet; we have, in the meantime, gone to Maine to pick the boys up and drive us all home. Since arriving back in MD last night, I have done 9 loads of laundry (no live ticks or empty milk jugs this year; but, more silverware and some rocks, and we’re down three more towels), purchased groceries that filled the cart beyond full (as the evidence below shows), and prepped for a new driver’s license (for Jack) appointment tomorrow.

I am both astonished and delighted by the entrenchment of dirt in what were, six weeks ago, new socks for both boys. A hat tip to you, kiddos, for living big in nature. Some of these are not salvageable, but I’m giving most of them my best effort because they carried my kids through happiness and dirt, tough times and wild life. And all of that is good info to remember and become wiser by.

As the tenth load spins in the room abutting my office, I am thinking about how long ago Europe feels but also how my time there remains sustentative. Earlier this year, my dear friend Amanda said something to the effect of “alone travel is something to always make time for. I do it once a year.” Like me, A has two children. Hers are younger, so I really admire her commitment. But she’s right. Going alone when you are rarely alone is a great sort of challenge. It doesn’t appeal to or benefit all, but for those who crave growth and adventure, such travel can provide the best of both.

In Amsterdam, I came across a pair of shoes I’d been eyeing stateside and really wanted. They’re a Converse-Comme des Garçons collaboration that I just hadn’t managed to find/deal with/purchase before I left. I mentioned them to Tom, and because he is a weirdly good researcher, he naturally found them at a store on one of our favorite streets in Amsterdam: Prinsengracht.

The precise pair I wanted wasn’t available in my size, but I quite liked the available option so brought it up to the register. The solo employee was a typically-tall (tall!) Dutch woman who appeared effortlessly chic though wearing an oversized tee, oversized jeans, and many barrettes in her hair (that seemed unnecessary). At the counter I said, “what do you think?” referring to hip shoes that seemed at least a decade younger than I am.

With total sincerity, she looked at me and said, “It doesn’t matter at all what I think. It only matters if you like them.” Perhaps seeing my American whatever she said, “I love them; they’re very hip.” And I do love that so much about the Netherlands. Practical and honest and largely unconcerned with others’ opinions. It’s all downright aspirational, and I have since loved wearing those high-tops and embracing that spirit. It’s taken me 4 decades to really fly my own flag, and doing so is so GD fun and liberating.

Free Covid tests, please donate blood, no "kids" yet but an odd burn pile

Each family can order four free covid tests, courtesy of the federal gov and delivered by the USPS. Ordering takes less than three minutes. Click here to request yours. They begin shipping later this month.

Meanwhile, you may have heard about the desperate nationwide blood shortage, the worst in more than a decade. Banks and hospital systems usually like to stock at least 5 days worth, but most are now running on a day’s supply extra. If you can, please consider donating blood. You can search for donation sites via this Red Cross link; simply input your zip code. Additionally, many schools and community centers are hosting drives, so you can look for those in your area as well.

Monday was Tom’s birthday. He is very difficult to shop for, so we often get creative. This year, the kids created coupons which Oliver then placed throughout a homemade newspaper (entitled Newspaper) because “that’s where you find coupons, Mom.” Adorable. One of Jack’s, for example, was “I will watch a movie of your choosing without complaining,” as that is a very rare occurrence.

my cake for T

One of my gifts was to arrange for the professional burning of the 4-year-old burn pile we inherited in WV. Everyone just says, “throw some kerosene on it after you’ve had some snow, and let it go.” But it was a big pile, and Tom tends to be nervous, and then when I started asking, people actually said, “Oh yeah, you should call the fire department to give them a head’s up.” And then I called the previous owners, and they (fonts of info as always) told me to call the local company and see if they wanted to use our behemoth as a training fire.

This was getting better and better. So I called the Hedgesville Volunteer Fire Company, and the guy with whom I spoke was so fabulous in all ways. Communicative, responsive, on it. Out they came last Saturday evening, with two trucks, a flame torch, some metal push rakes, and a leaf blower. I think they thought it would take a couple hours. They were confident and eager, we all bundled up to watch. Would the conflagration be exhilarating? Terrifying? We locked the goats in the barn, just in case.

Friends, I am here to tell you that after NINE HOURS, everyone gave up. By then Tom had set up a zero-gravity lounge chair to watch and help, the firemen had made multiple coffee runs and even assisted with a wreck-and-run up the road, and a not insignificant amount of various accelerants had been used. I went to bed at 11p; Tom came in just after 3a. The next morning, he told me that the guys were utterly demoralized:

“This is the hottest, slowest fire I have ever seen.”
”Jesus, you should build a house out of that wood. It does not burn!”
”I wish I’d brought my 50-gallon drum of used motor oil. Man.”

But, I’d say a good 75% has been reduced to ashes, it was a terrific entertainment, we learned a great deal, including how to till and snow plow a dirt ring, and we got to support the volunteers with a donation to the company.

The goats, unperturbed as ever, never made a peep and the next morning simply looked at the smoldering mound and climbed in the Gator.

Apple

No kids yet, y’all. But boy are we having fun thinking of potential baby names. I am hot on Beverly, Angus, and Ethel. Oliver likes Ethel, Skipper, and Belzar. Jack likes Belzar. Tom hates Belzar. We’ll see.

Lastly, an enormous round of applause for Australia doing the right thing and booting Novax from the Open. And yes to this timeline of the past decades. Good god.

Cold & funny

Ok, so on Friday, it snowed in our part of WV, and after a certain point of citizen population, street plowing sort of cuts out. The wonderful cat ‘n goat caretaker could not get here, and by mid-afternoon, I was slightly frantic about the animals. Ol was sick as all hell from his booster, so I picked him up early from school, dropped him at home, hopped in Tom’s car, which has 4-wheel drive, and hauled it up to WV.

Upon arrival, I found Lefty screaming frantically and the other 3 in various stages of distress. They could have been punking me for all I know; I AM that “sees puppy eyes on any being and immediately throws all amount of food and love their way” individual. The male cats seemed enormously happy to see me; the lone lady was calming licking her paws when I entered the barn.

Everyone got lots of extra food and love, and then I headed inside to enjoy a solitary dinner and attend a virtual book launch with Jamie Raskin. Mom and Dad were watching from Chevy Chase, and the entire time, Mom and I texted each other in such ways:

A few hours after we parted ways with Jamie, the power cut out in WV, and I was overly thankful for the ridiculously heavy comforter insert I’d bought for our duvet. I slept like a baby, but when I awoke, the inside house temp was 53 degrees. Mary, mother of god. Because I am perky AF when I’m out here, though, I peed, realized I could not flush the toilet because water pumps need electricity, and then realized I could not make coffee because of aforementioned lack of water and electricity. So, I bundled up in 90 layers and skipped out to the barn, the cats (who sleep in the garage at night) in tow.

Lefty started screaming, Rambo commenced neighing, Jemima (who, at this point, appears to be in late-stage-pregnancy-I-look-to-have-twins FUCK YOU state) glared, and Apple stared. I measured out feed as quickly as possible and threw myself into their part of the barn. The hay net was the saddest deflated balloon; upon inspection, I saw that purposefully or not, they’d bitten holes in it and gotten every strand of hay out. A hat tip to you ruminants!

Apple

I raced back inside, started a fire, and refilled all the bird feeders. Immediately, the backyard was an aviary. I nearly perished of delight. Cardinals, titmice, juncos, nuthatches, woodpeckers! And then, lo! Around 9a, the power was restored. Coffee! Heater! Toilets!

It is now 8:34p, and we have finally reached 66 degrees inside. Ol and Tom arrived in the meantime, and we all sledded, plowed, played, etc. Good stuff.

It almost felt like this had a non-nutritive cereal varnish on the bottom.

Whilst cold, I came across a few treasures that I simply must share with you because honestly? Who doesn’t need more laughter in their life?

478-2490; I have to click “forgot password” on the regular.

This is as good as Tweets get. A+

If you are celebrating Deplatforming Day, this one’s for you!

This is me a good 50% of the time. I LOVE this dog. The little paw and emphatic slam of the door!

And this is just genius. As I’ve said so many times since 2016, where would we be without comedy?
Abhor-Rent.