An orange yarn-wrapped bicycle and knitted flowers in a Delft shop window.
Tonight as Holland meets Germany in an European Cup match, the Dutch passion for football has reached fever pitch. Orange banners, streamers and balloons are festooning many homes, businesses and cars and random horns are sounding in support. Go Orange! Hup Holland hup!
Update: Clearly it wasn't the Dutch team's day.
Party barge, Egmond aan Zee, the Netherlands. Click photo to view detail.
My dear friend from college left Wednesday, after spending two weeks here. And David and I would have been happy if she decided to stay even longer, because she was the best guest ever! The secret? We gave each other space and she didn't expect to be entertained/doted upon 24/7. She was extremely thoughtful and respectful of our time. Plus she happens to be an intelligent, interesting woman, who's very engaging and curious about her surroundings.
One of the things we talked about is key attributes both for being a gracious host and a good house guest. Both of us grew up in the South, where manners are important. I told her about the tongue-in-cheek article Weekends only I'd written, after a particularly difficult guest came to stay.
The thing about being an expat living in Europe is that you have a never-ending stream of visitors. Over the years we have had many many guests, who were an absolute pleasure to host. But after a few unpleasant experiences with clueless individuals who took advantage of us - including those indicated below - we grew weary of acting as an unpaid bed-and-breakfast and started saying "No!" to other than the occasional good friends, experienced travelers or family.
Over-staying your welcome
In Paris, I lost count of how many guests came to stay, not all of them welcome. Two days after I'd returned from Nepal, a long-time friend arrived, supposedly for three days. She announced she had no money or credit cards, then changed her flight to stay even longer! She planned to take a train to Strasbourg to see a man who was playing mind games with her. But she didn't believe me when I said she needed advance reservations for a Thalys train; insisting she could just hop on any train at any time. And the man-in-question kept toying with her and ignoring her messages. So she stayed with us for eight days, obsessively dithering over the not-worth-her-time loser. Consequently, we had no choice but to finance her stay.
I practically had to force her to leave by phoning a taxi to take her to the airport, as later that day David and I were going by train to Amsterdam. My friend later sent a series of emails and tweets from Jerusalem, suggesting I was the "hostess from hell" and berating me for not letting her remain in our apartment while we traveled.
A woman I knew casually (we'd never even had lunch together) via my office in San Francisco came to see us in London, en route to France. She'd purportedly lined up odd jobs in various towns and planned to work her way to Italy. She asked if she could leave luggage containing camping equipment behind, saying she'd send for it shortly. After a few days, she abandoned her plans and returned to the US. And we had to move the bag with us to Paris. It stayed in our cave (wine cellar) for three years, before I insisted she retrieve it. In the interim she came to Paris twice and failed to contact us.
An American lawyer from my Spanish course in Seville showed up - ostensibly for three days while she spent time with a French guy from our class - only to cancel her planned trip to Ireland and stay an entire week. Oddly, she met the French guy only once for tea. Guess any notion of romance proved a figment of her imagination. She then had dinner with us every night. When we took her to an elegant restaurant, she didn't offer even to pay for the wine. Basically she had an eight-day holiday in Paris at our expense!
If you never want to be invited back, these schemes are foolproof:
Have your hosts make dinner reservations for a Saturday night (essential in a city like Paris). Your hosts will get dressed up to go out, but you don't turn up in time to make the reservation. This forces the hosts to cancel reservations, rush to the supermarket 30 minutes before it closes and cook dinner. But you're on holiday, so everyone else can accommodate your changing whims.
Come to an elegantly-set table in your bare feet, even though your hosts are dressed for the occasion.
Start eating before everyone at the table has been served.
Ask if you should tell an off-colour story at dinner and when told no, do it anyway, (leaving everyone with unpleasant images lingering in their minds).
Drink too much, talk loudly and constantly ask for your glass to be refilled. You're on vacation, so it doesn't matter how much you drink!
Dip your French baguette in your wine glass (!) and drop wine on the vintage linen tablecloth, creating huge stains. No doubt your hosts will laugh all the way to the drycleaner!
Ask for seconds of the main course, then, after the cheese course and dessert, ask if there's more food.
Cut the rinds off your cheese and arrange them on the cheese tray, rather than on your own plate. So creative!
Offer to help with the dishes, then bring two plates to the kitchen and leave the others for the hostess to clear and wash and dry by hand. She loves waiting on you!
Try to converse with the hostess when she is washing dishes, etc. At this point, chances are she has nothing polite to say to you.
Shout from one room to the next and expect your hostess to 1) hear you and 2) respond, while she is hand-washing and drying crystal glasses.
After a long, hot day walking around the city, take your shoes and stinky socks off and leave them under the coffee table. Put your dirty feet on a French linen-covered chair that's 170 years old. Another visit to the drycleaner or possibly the upholsterer?
Eat greasy potato chips while sitting in the same antique chair (see above).
Set your steaming mug of coffee on the 1940s glass coffee table, ignoring the coasters there for that purpose.
After you have had your shower, hog the bathroom putting on makeup, while others wait their turn. Ignore the perfectly nice mirrors in your room.
Arrive with four suitcases for a six-day stay, but forget an important prescription medication. Wring your hands with worry, but refuse to see a local doctor. You seem so anxious that your hostess asks a French pharmacist if they have a mood-stabilizer like the one you were prescribed in the US. In French, she begs the pharmacist to give you the drug; otherwise she'll be obliged to book you into a hotel.
Expect your hosts to drive you to and from the airport and to various towns and tourist attractions - places they wouldn't be going if not for you - but don't offer to purchase petrol.
Insist you're getting up early to run, then go back to sleep after the wake-up knock on your door. Expect your hosts to change their plans to accommodate your revised schedule. It's all good!
Leave your bed unmade and messy, wet towels on the floor and the door open while you're away during the day.
Leave the lights on in every room you depart; European electricity is very expensive, but your hosts are paying, so no worries.
Constantly mutter to yourself as you move around the apartment. Fun!
Spend time on your hosts' computers writing email, but repeatedly complain about the unfamiliar keyboard.
Don't bother to close the door behind you when entering or departing the apartment! That's what a burglar alarm is for, right?
When your hostess escorts you down the metro stairs to buy tickets and show you which train to take, don't offer to carry her heavy cart filled with groceries up or down the stairs. And especially don't offer to reimburse her for the tickets she just purchased for you!
When your hosts are meeting you at the airport and ask you to wait at a specific spot, don't stay there! Wander around while your hosts spend 45 minutes trying to find you (even better if you don't have a phone).
When your hosts ask you NOT to mail a package to them, ignore them! Never mind that they'll have to pay 19 percent tax upon arrival of your belated "hostess gift." (Either bring a hostess gift with you or not. Despite your good intentions, if you must send something after the fact, make it flowers, which won't require paying tax upon arrival).
When your hosts suggest you make event reservations in advance of your trip, pay no attention. Your hosts will be thrilled to help you book last-minute tickets online, while you fret about event times and miniscule price differences of said tickets.
Talk incessantly and/or constantly boast about yourself. After all, could there be a more fascinating topic of conversation??!!
Repeat the same story over and over and expect your hosts to laugh every time.
Take one of your host's stories and over the course of a few days, repeatedly attempt to make a feeble joke about it, even though the story has nothing to do with you.
Talk "at" the chef and distract him while he is preparing dinner, even when it's clear he'd prefer to be left alone while juggling tricky timing of various dishes.
Interfere with your hosts' personal belongings. Make yourself at home! Because it's the last time you'll be invited.
Have you had some unusual experiences with guests in your home? Do tell!
Reflections of the Dutch town of Edam in gazing balls atop an iron fence. Click photos to view detail.
These balls are updated versions of gazing balls popular in the 19th-century.
I'm busy entertaining a friend from college days. Back soon with a post about our first water lilies of the season. Wherever you are today, hope you're enjoying your weekend!
Boats viewed from a small bridge in Edam, Noord-Holland.
The small bridge...
...with a tall arch.
Another bridge over the same canal.
Bicycles everywhere....
Edam cheese and bottles of wine. All that's missing is the bread!
Living over the shop.
Rustic charm.
A permanent letter box.
A photograph of Volendam's origins as a fishing village on the side of one of the houses in the picture.
A plaque indicating the house was built in 1935 and the family's work involved horses and sheep.
Reflections in a shop window in Volendam. The girl in the striped shirt reminds me of my fearless friend Gillian.
This week I am re-opening my etsy shop to sell many French antique and vintage treasures from my personal collection. Check back soon for the launch and link.
An outdoor display at a store in Delft, Zuid-Holland.
At long last it's Friday! And here are some fun links found while browsing blogs and media:
Marrakesh by Design and a tiny little film
A short film featuring Dior at Versailles
Est magazine's first birthday issue
A Frenchwoman attempts to understand Brooklyn hipsters
Bon weekend, les tous!
Miniature windmills at Kinderdijk, Zuid-Holland.
Fresh fruit and vegetables in Delft.
An arrangement of antique glassware on a windowsill in Edam.
It's the merry month of May - hooray! - and I'll be back shortly with more photos and posts.
Meanwhile, if you live in one of the cities in Maryam's book tour - now underway in the US - don't miss a chance to meet her! Maryam is as charming and clever in real life as one might expect from reading her lovely blog My Marrakesh. Feast your eyes on her stylish book Marrakesh by Design, availble from various booksellers.
It has been an eventful Queen's Day for us and our guests from Michigan, beginning early this morning in Amsterdam and continuing in the little fishing port of Volendam and then the charming village of Edam, famed for its cheese. These lads posing for pictures wore touches of orange in tribute to the Dutch royal family, the House of Orange.
A shop window filled with Queen's Day kitsch.
A giant paper flower.
Rather quiet street scenes in Edam at day's end.
Edam's Town Hall, built in 1737.
Dutch flags were flying all over the Netherlands.
Boats in Edam.
Boats in Volendam.
Back soon with more photos; for now, hostess duties await.
A swan coming around a bend in the canal...
...and gliding away, après un petit déjeuner chez moi.
An unexpected discovery in our garden. (As always, click photos to view detail).
A profusion of pink lilies...
...and pale pink and white blossoms against a backdrop of a weeping willow on the opposite bank of the canal.
A moment of calm (with the boat still on the deck, awaiting warmer temperatures).
Unusual purple and blue hortensia (hydrangeas), a gift from dinner guests last weekend.
Hope you're having a lovely Sunday, whatever the weather!
P.S. Have you read Frank Rich's alarming piece the Sugar Daddies, the old, conservative white guys who are trying to buy the American election??!!
This swan appears serene while gliding on the canal...
...but when the swan turns up at my deck wanting food, he angrily hisses if he doesn't get his way. The Mallards follow at a safe distance, hoping for leftovers.
These creatures remind me of certain American politicians: on the surface, they try to portray a kindly countenace, denying a "war on women." But behind the scenes, they engage in concerted efforts to dismantle 60 years of hard-fought reproductive rights. This week the Republican National Committee chairman laughingly dismissed such talk as "like a war on caterpillars."
Yet actions speak louder than words. In the past year alone, legislators in 39 states have introduced nearly 500 bills to strip, suppress or deny women's long-established reproductive rights and erode basic civil liberties. Read more here about conservative lawmakers' numerous brazen attempts to defund women's healthcare and undermine equality in the workplace.
Bizarrely, conservative male Republicans seem determined to unravel women's reproductive choices and workplace rights, while decrying government intervention into people's lives!
When I noticed the house on the Dutch realtor's website, a dirty white brick wall screamed out at me. My initial reaction was to find out if the wall could come down. When I saw the house in person, that idea was reinforced; the wall was horrid and dated. But we bought the house and there were so many cosmetic improvements needed, (thankfully, the house is structurally sound) the building work involved in knocking down the wall seemed like a tedious process, not to mention an unnecessary expense. And after moving twice in one year, we really didn't want to spend weeks living amidst construction chaos.
So rather than knock down the wall or try to mask it with art, I decided to make it a feature. I chose a teal blue inspired by the Rijksmuseum (much to the dismay of the painter, who clearly thought I was mad). The teal matches the William Morris Strawberry Thief fabric in the Arts & Crafts chair. I hung the circa 1830 French gilt mercury glass mirror and pushed the Napoleon III glass-fronted bookcase (bought from the grandson of a professor, who had it in his office at the Sorbonne) against the wall. Then I put the 1930s table in front of the mirror and topped it with glass scientific specimen globes to reflect more light. The arrangement of antique globes containing various curiosities are a winking nod to Miss Havisham's table in the latest BBC production of Great Expectations. A Napoleon III "bamboo" stool and a matching stand (holding an antique Buddha head) complete the grouping.
The rest of the room is a mixture of modern design and influences from the Middle East and Andalucia, Spain. It's an eclectic combination, which seems to work.
In case you didn't notice, the perfectionist in me is compelled to point out a pair of eyeglasses on the table that should not have been in the photograph. But in my bid to quell these annoying perfectionist tendencies, I am posting this photo, rather than take a more "perfect" one.
The ceiling is painted a pale blush pink, which helps "warm" the space in the winter. The pendant lights (of which there are six) are from Italy. The wool rug is handmade by the Bani Hamida Women's Weaving Project in Jordan. I'm looking for a different rug for this spot; ultimately the Bani Hamida rug will move either to my office or the guest room.
Stay tuned for more house "makeover" photos... Bon weekend!
Work-in-progress, my home office.
The bookcase contains language and photography books, an antique book press and my iPod. Vintage American typewriters from the 1940s and 1920s rest on an alphabet chest handmade by Luke Ellis of Kent & London. On the wall is an original Henri Cartier-Bresson photo of boats in the Bois de Boulogne, Paris (my old neighbourhood); a Mucha Art Nouveau alphabet drawing from 1901 and an oil on wood painting of nightfall over Santa Fe by Greg Moon of Taos, New Mexico. The 1950s Tolix stool is French and the Louis Poulsen suspension light is from Denmark. The colour-block tiles belonged to the house's previous owners; am still searching for a rug. The door leads to a balcony overlooking the garden and canal.
Vignettes from my home office space, the Netherlands.
As always, click photos to enlarge.
Restoration underway at Reales Alcazares de Sevilla, Sevilla, Spain.
Hello, dear friends and gentle readers! Despite my lengthy absence from the blogosphere, I haven't forgotten about you. While our house isn't nearly as grand as the Alcazar Palace in Sevilla, it has its own simple charm (and some antique tiles from Sevilla are part of our decor). For weeks I've been preoccupied with improvements and repairs. Waiting for tradesmen and builders to work their magic has been a slow and frustrating process, with delay heaped upon delay and a couple of incidents involving less-than-stellar workmanship.
After our professional painter carelessly splattered paint on our home office floors (which two hours of scrubbing wouldn't remove, requiring rugs to mask the damage), we've decided to paint the guest room, the top floor and the stairwells ourselves. Also, we're tasked with touching-up several spots the painter failed to notice. Louis Poulsen lights from Denmark arrived two weeks ago, but the too-busy electrician has cancelled three appointments; hopefully the job will be accomplished next week!
But life is not all home-improvement drudgery. David and I are enjoying the birds (including a grey heron!), ducks and swans that frequent "our" canal and the lovely flowers and trees blooming in our garden. Hard to believe we're in a city, yet surrounded by nature. The winter snowstorm caused extensive damage to two palm trees from Northern China, so amateur-like, I've been trying to salvage what's left. I've read at least five books (and promptly recycled them, in a bid for more space; less clutter). Slowly, but surely the house is starting to feel like a home.
Meanwhile, we're long overdue for a trip to London to see family and American friends arrive for a visit later this month. I'm hoping to get back to a regular blogging schedule, starting next week. Watch this space for photographs of our new abode.
Wishing you and yours a very happy, healthy Easter weekend!
A frequent visitor glides by our garden.
Ice-skating sisters on the canal in our back garden. Meanwhile, Elfstedentocht mania is underway. The much-anticipated skating event through 11 Dutch cities is set for this weekend, if the ice remains thick enough to hold an estimated 16,000 participants. The last race was conducted in 1997, with Crown Prince Willem-Alexander participating.
Almost every canal is filled with ice-skaters or parents pulling small children on sleds. Click photos to enlarge.
Update Feb. 9th: Alas, after all the excitement and anticipation, Elfstedentocht has been cancelled, due to unstable ice in the south of Friesland.
Update Feb. 23rd: Due to receiving over 400 spam comments on this article alone, I'm closing comments while Typepad gets to grips with excessive spam.
The view from my home office balcony: the frozen canal is covered with a fresh blanket of snow. Click photo to view detail.
Still no internet - hopefully next week. Back soon with posts and photos of our new home!
Polka dots and graffiti, Delft, Holland.
After weeks of packing boxes - and broken nails and box cuts and paper cuts to prove it - our moving day begins at 8 a.m. tomorrow. Hard to believe this is twice within a year we've moved household! Thankfully, this should be the last move for a very long time.
David and I will be staying in a hotel before our belongings are actually delivered to the new house. In the interim, there are appointments, including a meeting at the notaire to formally receive the keys; a second meeting with the painter and at least a dozen errands. On Monday I'll be off to Paris for meetings, then back to Amsterdam later that night to continue unpacking. I'll have limited internet access for a while, but will blog when I can.
Here's hoping this move goes much more smoothly than the chaotic one from Paris!
Ducks in a row and reflections, Delft, Holland.
Hello! Am writing amidst a mountain of boxes, in preparation for our upcoming move. I'm a bit busy trying to get 'all my ducks lined up in a row;' dealing with this house and organising a painter, electrician, etc. for our new one. Please forgive my absence; I'll be back soon with more posts and photos!
A manmade salmon stream or "vispassage," Hagestein, Holland. Click photos to view detail.
Now-defunct flood gates and waterworks at Hagestein.
During the holidays, I watched a film my daughter and I saw in London when she was a child. "The Chronicles of Narnia: the Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe" is based on the C.S. Lewis children's book. The story features various moral dilemmas, pitting hope against fear; light against dark; good against evil.
As in every such film, there is a moment when the music swells; when the hero and his friends are in great jeopardy and all appears lost. The hero looks around for a lifeline, but no help is forthcoming. So he summons his courage and rushes in anyway. He does the right thing.
Heros and villains
For a long time, I believed certain politicians would do the right thing; that the moral imperative of elected public office took precedence over greed and power. Lately I have accepted that this was a naive concept, based purely on optimism. Yes, a handful of good men and women remain in public office, determined to help their constituents. But their numbers are dwindling. In the United States (and Great Britain), politics has become a cynical game or blood sport, funded by self-interested corporations and unholy business alliances empowered by Citizens United. This winner-take-all approach benefits only the wealthy 1 percent of the population, while problems of the 99% fester, gathering pace.
It's no wonder the OccupyWallStreet movement has garnered enthusiasm and widespread participation from diverse coalitions and Americans of all ages and faiths. Despite the often-heroic ongoing efforts of protesters in cities and communities worldwide, politicians remain largely dismissive of the Occupy movement. They don't want to hear about issues affecting ordinary people's lives. No, career politicians are much more interested in 1) courting the wealthy to fund their re-election campaigns and 2) saying anything - even if this means completely reversing course from previous statements and policy positions - to satisfy right-wing voters.
With few exceptions, Republican "Party of No" politicians have gone out of their way to erode environmental and consumer protections; to undermine or strip women's reproductive rights and dismantle education and road-and-bridge maintenance programs. In Alabama, inhumane anti-immigrant legislation has directly impacted even foreign business owners responsible for hundreds of local jobs.
Politics over principle
Worst of all, the woefully-ineffective US Congress seeded a defense bill - the National Defense Authorization Act (NDAA) - with draconian measures that would remove our habeas corpus rights. In effect this bill would allow the military to arrest and detain anyone suspected of "terrorism" ties or links without charge, legal representation or trial. Even the Bush administration, with all its human rights abuses, never attempted such an outrageous civil liberties grab.
The NDAA makes a mockery of justice, abolishing due process rights in a manner previously unseen in American government. President Obama - who is a Constitutional lawyer - promised he would veto a NDAA bill including such extreme measures. But like so many other promises publicly made and broken, he chose politics over principle and signed it anyway - on New Year's Eve, while the nation and the media were distracted.
His "signing statement" is a litany of excuses, suggesting 'I'm a nice guy, so don't worry.' Even if the president's claim - that he personally won't apply the NDAA to American citizens - is genuine, the law is enshrined for another president to enforce and/or abuse.
The American Civil Liberties Union said President Obama "will forever be known as the president who signed indefinite detention without charge or trial into law. The statute is particularly dangerous because it has no temporal or geographic limitations and can be used by this and future presidents to militarily detain people captured far from any battlefield.” Amnesty International has joined other human rights groups in condemning the NDAA measures that "could spell indefinite detention without a hearing, keep Guantanamo open and hinder fair trials."
The hope and expectation is that the NDAA will be challenged before the US Supreme Court and struck down as unconstitutional. Meanwhile, Sen. Dianne Feinstein (D-Calif.) has introduced the Due Process Guarantee Act of 2011, legislation to undo the NDAA's extreme provisions. The act amends the Non-Detention Act of 1971, providing that Congressional authorization for the use of military force does not authorize indefinite detention—without charge or trial—of U.S. citizens who are apprehended domestically.
Please urge your Senators to remedy this wrong. Just click here -- it'll take only a few seconds.
Reflections in a canal on a winter's afternoon. Click photos to enlarge.
A dilapidated wooden rowboat is grounded.
A "put your trash here" sign has landed in a canal clouded with duckweed.
Silhouettes on a high road outside the town gates.
Puffy clouds reflected in a canal.
Sunlight marks the path.
Feeding the deer in a local park.
Black-headed gulls encircle the church's 15th-century bell tower...
...and swoop around the town.
Amidst puffy cloud cover, a faint rainbow is visible.
Another crossroad outside one of the town's historic gates. Along with the essential dike roads, such routes help prevent flooding during heavy rains or rising waters from the River Lek.
Today, this young man's story really touched me; I hope it means something to you, as well.
Antiques in a New Orleans hotel lobby. And a haiku for 2012:
Write the next chapter:
choose your own destination;
treasure the journey.
Despite numerous claims to the contrary, nobody knows what the new year will bring.
I'm hoping yours is sparkling with verve and fizz. Here's to you, my friends! Happy new year!
Photos: Signs hanging in the French quarter, New Orleans and light trails from a staircase at Antoine's shot through glass.
Trees along a canal are enhanced with tiny gold lights, the Netherlands.
Farolitos are lit in a 15th-century church courtyard, in a special Christmas Eve service re-enacting the Nativity scene.
Wise men walking past cows and sheep kept behind metal barriers in the church courtyard. The house with the five windows and two small ones on the top floor is where we're living now.
Bicycles wrap around the block.
The Christmas star and the faint silhouette of a horse's head at lower right.
Our fireplace mantel with 19th-century French Madonna crowns, a framed 18th-century page from the Koran (yes, religions can peacefully co-exist) from Sevilla, Spain; 18th-century French books topped with Delft porcelain miniature shoes and a vintage Santa ornament; a hand-carved wooden lamplighter from the Netherlands; an 18th-century wooden angel from an Italian church (wearing a rush crown woven with irridiscent beads from London); Christmas parcels from my daughter in the US and a glass cylinder containing an arrangement of amaryllis, berries, a silvery fern and "snow," a gift from a Dutch friend, who is a talented florist and interior designer. The mercury glass and gilt mirror is French, circa 1830. Click photos to view detail.
Antique porcelain figures at an exhibition of Christmas decorations currently underway inside the city's 15th-century gate tower.
The Virgin Mary.
Baby Jesus in a straw-filled manger. "For unto us, a child is born..."
Joseph.
Joseph, Mary and baby Jesus (and a wood-framed leaded window at the top of the historic town gate).
A handmade nativity scene. This picture is slightly out of focus (taking pictures was frowned upon at the exhibition), but you can see the amazing detail of each cloth figure and the surrounding scene, including a hand-woven tent.
Vintage ornaments on a wire tree.
Gingerbread in a shop window.
Outside our window, bells are ringing, while carpenters build a manger in the 15th-century church courtyard. And a house-drawn carriage is ferrying last-minute shoppers through the cobblestone streets.
Wishing you and yours a very Merry Christmas, filled with tidings of comfort and joy!
Rain and mist on the windows, the Netherlands.
House-buying bureaucracy has taken most of my time and energy these past couple of months. It seems I haven't had a stress-free moment to gather my thoughts about the remarkable events of 2011 and their impact on all our lives. Rebecca Solnit's article (excerpted below) is a timely reminder that what's most important is how we care for and respect one another. Please take a few moments to read "Compassion is our new currency."
"Usually at year’s end, we’re supposed to look back at events just passed -- and forward, in prediction mode, to the year to come. But just look around you! This moment is so extraordinary that it has hardly registered. People in thousands of communities across the United States and elsewhere are living in public, experimenting with direct democracy, calling things by their true names, and obliging the media and politicians to do the same.
"The breadth of this movement is one thing, its depth another. It has rejected not just the particulars of our economic system, but the whole set of moral and emotional assumptions on which it’s based. Take the pair shown in a photograph from Occupy Austin in Texas. The amiable-looking elderly woman is holding a sign whose computer-printed words say, “Money has stolen our vote.” The older man next to her with the baseball cap is holding a sign handwritten on cardboard that states, “We are our brothers’ keeper.”
"The photo of the two of them offers just a peek into a single moment in the remarkable period we’re living through and the astonishing movement that’s drawn in… well, if not 99% of us, then a striking enough percentage: everyone from teen pop superstar Miley Cyrus with her Occupy-homage video to Alaska Yup’ik elder Esther Green ice-fishing and holding a sign that says “Yirqa Kuik” in big letters, with the translation -- “occupy the river” -- in little ones below.
"The woman with the stolen-votes sign is referring to them. Her companion is talking about us, all of us, and our fundamental principles. His sign comes straight out of Genesis, a denial of what that competitive entrepreneur Cain said to God after foreclosing on his brother Abel’s life. He was not, he claimed, his brother’s keeper; we are not, he insisted, beholden to each other, but separate, isolated, each of us for ourselves.
"Think of Cain as the first Social Darwinist and this Occupier in Austin as his opposite, claiming, no, our operating system should be love; we are all connected; we must take care of each other. And this movement, he’s saying, is about what the Argentinian uprising that began a decade ago, on December 19, 2001, called politica afectiva, the politics of affection.
"If it’s a movement about love, it’s also about the money they so unjustly took, and continue to take, from us -- and about the fact that, right now, money and love are at war with each other. After all, in the American heartland, people are beginning to be imprisoned for debt, while the Occupy movement is arguing for debt forgiveness, renegotiation, and debt jubilees.
"Sometimes love, or at least decency, wins. One morning late last month, 75-year-old Josephine Tolbert, who ran a daycare center from her modest San Francisco home, returned after dropping a child off at school only to find that she and the other children were locked out because she was behind in her mortgage payments. True Compass LLC, who bought her place in a short sale while she thought she was still negotiating with Bank of America, would not allow her back into her home of almost four decades, even to get her medicines or diapers for the children.
"We demonstrated at her home and at True Compass’s shabby offices while they hid within, and students from Occupy San Francisco State University demonstrated outside a True Compass-owned restaurant on behalf of this African-American grandmother. Thanks to this solidarity and the media attention it garnered, Tolbert has collected her keys, moved back in, and is renegotiating the terms of her mortgage."
In this Christmas season and beyond, my fervent prayer is that compassion continues to occupy our hearts and minds - and we act accordingly.
Sheep in a deer park, the Netherlands.
Politicians seem to expect us to follow along like sheep, even as they violate the US Constitution's Fifth Amendment guarantee of due process. If you're an American, please take a few moments to read about the US Congress's latest attempts to rob us of our civil liberties and human rights. Even the Bush-Cheney administration, with all its failures, never dared to impose such Draconian measures on American citizens. President Obama's decision not to veto this bill is an outrage!
"Congress is essentially authorising the indefinite imprisonment of American citizens, without charge. We are not a nation that locks up its citizens without charge." - Sen. Dianne Feinstein (D-CA)
Laura Murphy of the American Civil Liberties Union (ACLU) said President Obama “should more carefully consider the consequences of allowing this bill to become law.”
“If President Obama signs this bill, it will damage both his legacy and America’s reputation for upholding the rule of law,” Murphy said in a statement. “The last time Congress passed indefinite detention legislation was during the McCarthy era and President Truman had the courage to veto that bill. We hope that the president will consider the long view of history before codifying indefinite detention without charge or trial.”
Read Glenn Greenwald's excellent assessment of the bill and how it affects our rights in Salon.
Carousel horse, vitrine, French quarter, New Orleans.
Am finding life a bit dizzying at the moment - as though I'm spinning on a never-ending merry-go-round - thanks to a whirl of Dutch house-buying bureaucracy. Hoping the wild ride stops soon and cool heads prevail.
Meanwhile, am honoured to be included in Christine Mason Miller's Five Six Things column today. It was such fun to be part of her Global Inspirations series for Create Mixed Media. Read about Christine's virtual book tour for her latest creation Desire to Inspire here. You can pre-order a copy here.
Other inspirations:
Harrison Solow's The Birthday Present
Haruki Murakami's 1Q84 trilogy
Longing for Paris? See Eugene Atget's iconic photography in Paris: 1898-1924
How exercise benefits the brain
A trio of frosted and mercury glass candles on a windowsill.
Floral displays on a foggy day.
Snow-dusted plants.
Zinc pots of festive berries and pine cones.
An abundance of red in stoneware pots.
A florist's vitrine, with trees made of frosted pine cones.
An interior design firm's display window.
Sinterklaas decorations in a show window.
The entrance hall to the store in the former post office. The building has its original 17th-century tiles and traditional Dutch architecture. It's now been broken up into a store, a house and an apartment, with a huge garden and courtyard.
This moss-covered Buddha reclines in the garden.
Shoppers seeking bargains.
An organ grinder to entertain the children.
A garland of flowers to brighten a bicycle.
A simple and elegant front door.
I'm still working on our Christmas decor. I have the fireplace mantel decorated, but much more to be done. Am off to see my favourite local florist for inspiration.
I hope you're taking photos of your holiday decor! It would be nice to see images representing Christmas celebrations around the world.
Spiderweb on a garden gate, the Netherlands. Click photos to enlarge.
Hail and farewell, November! Most of the month I've been immersed in the lengthy legal and bureaucratic process required to buy a house in the Netherlands. It's not easy, particularly in a language David and I don't speak. It is hoped the rewards will be worth all the angst!
Meet me back here beginning December 1st for photos and posts of holiday cheer, news and views! Meanwhile, before you head for the hair salon, read this cautionary tale about hair colour. Like everything else these days, we must check the ingredients!
My camera and I had a sunset meeting with these lovely creatures:
The boss.
The young buck, nibbling on grass and leaves.
Bambi. (Yes, that's what they call her at the deer park).
Her calm sibling.
Gulls in the background are trying to steal the deers' food.
"What, those annoying gulls again??!!"
A reindeer? A tall coated-wire mesh fence prevented me from getting too close in this deer park. I pushed the camera through barbed-wire at the top of the fence and angled the lens downwards to get these shots. Click photos to enlarge.
Munching on a leaf.
This little girl was looking at my camera and ignoring the child trying to climb on the pony.
Meanwhile, weekend Sinterklaas festivities continue, with music and entertainment for children at the local town hall.
Late afternoon view of a canal near the deer park and the 15th-century church.
The church tower viewed from another canal. Looks idyllic, doesn't it? I shall miss this lovely area when we move house in late January. All being well, we'll have a canal view from our back garden.
Speaking of homes, here is an unusual dwelling. Wherever you live, hope you're having a lovely weekend!
Candlelight, 2.a.m.
"It is a common experience that a problem difficult at night is resolved in the morning after the committee of sleep has worked on it." - John Steinbeck
This shot reminds me of a chandelier, because of the tiny water droplets at the end of each bud. Did you notice the heart-shaped leaf on the right? (Click photo to enlarge).
So many things for which to be grateful, including all my dear friends and faithful readers. Thank you for staying the course on this journey! Wishing you and yours a happy and healthy Thanksgiving weekend.
In the Netherlands, we're emerging from four days of thick fog. Click photos to view detail. My favourite fog-drenched image is here.
Kinderdijk, Zuid-Holland.
Windmills obscured by fog.
Bridge closed.
Molens van Kinderdijk in the mist.
A canal shrouded in fog.
Row of trees.
Ducks strolling down the path.
Green polders.
Ducks swimming in a canal.
The main street.
Church tower enveloped in fog.
Voorstraat.
Into the mist!
The Zwarte Piet procession Saturday began with people in costume on bicycle and on foot leading the way to the Town Hall.
"Zwarte Piet" is a longstanding Dutch tradition, in which Sinterklaas is accompanied by a "slave" child, helping deliver gifts. As a child of the American South, I consider the fact that this tradition continues in 2011 is remarkable - particularly as the wandering minstrel/dressing-in-blackface practice vanished about 50 years ago in America. Recently in Mississippi, college sorority girls were placed on probation for dressing in blackface, supposedly depicting the television series "The Cosbys."
Here's the blog Tiger beatdown's account of attempts to protest Zwarte Piet in the Netherlands:
"Over the years, a small but growing group of people have been protesting this celebration of Black face costumes and ridiculing of minorities. Systematically, these protests have been met with a very strong and stubborn resistance from a majority of White Dutch who refuse to even consider the racist implications of this “tradition." Those who are against the Black Pete depictions are consistently told that there is nothing offensive in it, that the tradition is not up for debate, that they are being oversensitive and that and here comes the usual xenophobic retort, “if they don’t like it, they should go and live some place else."
"Additionally, people who speak against this are also told that they are importing North American models of “political correctness” that have no place in Dutch society. Moreover, the supporters of these Black face depictions are adamant that there is nothing, absolutely nothing racist in Black Pete’s representations and that claiming otherwise is the result of a cultural imperialism brought upon by North American influences.
"According to supporters, Dutch culture is so different from that of the US and the context so incomparable that such discussion should not even take place. Any attempt at contextualizing the role of the Dutch in slavery in the Americas and how the continuation of these racist practices owes everything to the mindset that made such trade possible is met with protestations and the statement that “only Americans see offense in Black face, we, the Dutch, are obviously different and not racist in our traditions." In sum, what they claim is that the rights of white people to don blackface are more or less sacrosanct and native Dutch children have a right to the continuation of this “tradition” undisputed."
Read the full article here.
But my educated, young, white neighbours take their children to participate in the festivities and they don't seem to think there's anything wrong with white people wearing blackface depicting "Zwarte Piet."
Sinterklaas and Zwarte Piet.
Sometimes Sinterklaas rides in on a white horse, but this one chose a red convertible.
Even children are dressed in Zwarte Piet costume.
People dressed in Zwarte Piet character wave from an upper window in Town Hall.
A child wearing a Sinterklaas costume.
Children wait to greet Sinterklaas.
Smoke from a Town Hall door brings firemen to the rescue.
Apparently, the problem wasn't too serious, as no one left the stage.
Vantage point.
"Zwarte Piet" hands out candy to children.
As you can see, the children all look happy to be participating in the festivities.
I saw only two actual black persons: a mother reading text on her phone, while her daughter shyly waited for candy.
Sinterklaas addresses the crowd, surrounded by Zwarte Piet characters.
More candy distribution.
I wasn't sure what to make of a "fat Elvis" character wearing blackface. Surely that has nothing to do with tradition??!!
A child wearing blackface rides a bicycle.
Zwarte Piet characters the next day at a local supermarket. The one wearing stilts had to stoop to avoid touching the ceiling.
What's YOUR view of the curious Dutch tradition of Zwarte Piet?
Foggy afternoon, 15th-century town gate, the Netherlands.
I've spent much of the weekend taking photos of various Sinterklass-related festivities - including the controversial Dutch tradition Zwarte Piet.
Today our neighbourhood has been blanketed in fog; a bonus when it comes to photography. I took a long walk on paths through polders and along tree-lined canals, where the only sounds were birds chirping and ducks quacking. Such a peaceful afternoon.
I found cranberries in the supermarket to make Nigella Lawson's cranberry-and-orange stuffing. We've ordered a turkey from the butcher. David will cook the meal, while I'll bake sweet potato and pecan pies. We've invited Dutch friends for dinner, who've never experienced Thanksgiving or even visited the US.
Earlier that day, we have a very important bureaucratic meeting, as part of the house-buying process. Fingers crossed, that will go smoothly, because in my head, I'm considering paint colours and arranging the furniture! (Dare I hope??!!)
Hope you're having a lovely weekend. Check back this week for posts galore from recent photo shoots.
Fireplace mantel in our current 200-year-old maisonette. Click photo to view detail. French gilt and mercury glass mirror circa 1830 (found at Marches aux Puces at Clignacourt, with bits of the frame missing; restored in 2001). From left, 19th-century French beaded handbag; Raku pottery from Northern California; 18th-century Tibetan monk's worn turquoise-lined copper and enamel food bowl and woven carrying basket with leather strap; 18th-century French books; Pomegranate pottery from Whitney Smith, Oakland, CA; small Dutch pottery piece; framed butterfly; pottery bowl handmade by Riley Salyards, Amsterdam; early 20th-century French Art Nouveau iron candlestick; 19th-century French carved wooden easel holding hand-tinted postcard illustration of Reales Alcázares de Sevilla.
You may recall we've been searching for a house, as our current abode has been sold. On Wednesday, we met the owners and signed the papers to purchase the lovely house just north of Amsterdam that caught our fancy! The charming owners graciously are donating the rowboat, which they say "belongs with the house." So barring any unforeseen catastrophe or bureaucratic muddle, we should be moving in late January.
There's no fireplace, but the house has ample room for our global treasures. At last I'll have a proper office, complete with balcony and canal view. We'll make one bedroom a dressing room, so we can find the clothes we need (without searching through suitcases, due to one tiny closet here). We'll also have a guest room with its own balcony, for family and friends!
On Thanksgiving day (!) we'll complete more paperwork to help make the dream a reality. Am hoping and praying all the seeds we've sown come to fruition. My daughter Jordana reminds me to "visualize, visualize." Meanwhile, your good wishes will be much appreciated!
Travel agency vitrine, Utrecht, the Netherlands. As always, click photos to view detail.
Canal barge unloading cargo, Utrecht.
If you dig too deep in the Netherlands, you're likely to find water!
Sidewalk lady bug, Utrecht.
Bakery window, Delft.
Tablescape, Paris department store vitrine.
Memorial to soldiers who died in World War I, Montreuil-sur-Mer, France.
Red epaulets, Prix de l'Arc de Triomphe, Hippodrome de Longchamp, Paris.
Bullfight, Plaza de los Toros, Sevilla, Spain.
Red door, Sevilla.
Sculpture, New Orleans.
Feathers, New Orleans.
Mardi gras costumes, New Orleans.
Tabasco and other Louisiana hot sauce, New Orleans.
Red beads, New Orleans.
Monastery door, Himalayas, Nepal.
Lighting candles near the Tibetan Boudhanath Stupa, Kathmandu.
Lighting candles on a Hindu religious holiday, Bungamati, Nepal.
Lady in red, Bhaktapur.
Bird on a pavilion, Kathmandu.
Curious child, Kathmandu.
Woodworker, Bungamati.
Community, Bungamati.
Raking grain, Bungamati.
A woman's work is never done, Bungamati.
More raking grain in a main square.
...while other grain is covered by tarpulins.
Meanwhile, the men play cards, Bungamati.
And a woman waits near a public bath and toilet.
In Bhakatapur, the same scene is repeated, with women turning the grain in a main square.
Street market in a Nepali village.
Bolts of fabric and beaded slippers, Bhaktapur.
Strings of beads, Bhaktapur.
Bangle bracelets, Bungamati.
In Bungamati, a woman proudly holds her baby, whose eyes are kohl-rimmed "to protect the eyes."
Curbside tailor, Kathmandu.
Motorcycles, the most popular mode of transport in Nepal.
Flowers in a private garden, Kathmandu.
Walking uphill, Bungamati.
Houseboats viewed from a balcony, Purmerend, the Netherlands. Click photo to enlarge.
"Turn your face to the sun and the shadows fall behind you." - Maori proverb
It's a grey, misty, foggy day in Holland, but we have good reason to hope.
Other encouraging signs:
Cooler heads prevailed in Mississippi
...and reason triumphed in Ohio.
Ab Fab is coming to movie screens.
And Lemony Snicket gets down to basics,
while credit unions reap benefits of bankers' hubris.
Check out the writing at OccupyWriters.com.
And finally, if you're an American, this article is an eye-opening must-read!
Islamic symbols, Reales Alcázares de Sevilla, Sevilla, Spain.
So there are choices, many choices, for which I should be grateful. But how do we choose among such a variety of abodes, each with its own particular benefits, as well as imperfections??!!
It may surprise you to know I've never owned a house! As a journalist, all my adult life has been nomadic, moving from city to city; from country to country. So our current quest for a permanent home in the Netherlands is proving an emotional minefield, as I try to come to terms with the idea of stability (!); of finally unpacking all that baggage, real and imagined.
Am trying to trust my instincts. But just when we think we've found the right place, unexpected problems are revealed: a leak that needs repair; a window that requires attention. A 1920s ground-floor apartment with original stained-glass windows seems too small and narrow. A beautiful 1934 bungalow is located on a busy city street. A charming 1930s maisonette is close to a train station, with an enthusiastic noise level to match.
A light-filled mansion is located in a nondescript neighbourhood, with sweeping views of - other houses! A gorgeous house is amiss in a modern, Stepford-like bedroom community, devoid of character. A place near our current maisonette that ticks most of the boxes is jaw-droppingly expensive. A spacious three-storey house has a tiny, closet-like kitchen. A former schoolhouse converted to a loft has light and space to spare, but would need major renovation and euros to burn.
We've viewed about two dozen places in different cities and neighbourhoods - as well as probably 100 online listings - and it seems our search isn't finished. Meanwhile, we edge a week closer to a late January move date, with no set destination. Perhaps we'll be traveling without reservations?
An afternoon stroll in my neighbourhood. Click photos to view detail.
These houses are built against a wall that once encircled the city.
A duck flaps its wings.
A carpet of leaves leading to a dyke road.
One of the town's historic gates.
The church bell tower, viewed from a distance.
Riot of colour
autumn's last gasp of beauty
before winter's chill
