Brood and Pain

Kinda sounds like something bad, but it's actually something veeeery good. Brood is "bread" in Dutch and pain is "bread" in French.

Jim loves bread.

That deserved a paragraph all to itself.

He's baked his fair share of bread and most of the time it's good. And I'm an expert on bread baking :) Ha.

Mastering the art for at least 20 years

Seriously, there is certainly an art to baking not only edible bread, but melt-in-your-mouth bread.

We're blessed with bakeries all over Hasselt and the Delhaize (supermarket) across the street bakes a couple dozen different kinds of bread, all day long, every day. There's hot bread throughout the day, but we've found if we go about 6:00 pm, there's always hot baguettes. You can even pre-order hot bread of any kind - any time!

So anyway, Jim decided to bake some authentic French bread. The French are serious about what is and is not authentic French bread. A baguette is a long thin loaf of French bread made with basic dough. Here's the best part - the dough (not the shape) is defined by French law. A standard baguette has a diameter of 2-2.5 in. and is about 24 in. long.

By law, it must contain only water, yeast, flour, and salt. French bread is also required by law to avoid preservatives, and as a result, bread goes stale in under 24 hours, thus baking baguettes is a daily occurrence. Actually, we've found that to be the case with all bread baked here in Belgium too. It is delicious and fresh the day you buy it, but the next morning it is time for a new loaf.

The birds are well fed here.

Always the law abider

In addition to the ingredients law, there's also a new law in place regarding the bakery (boulangerie in French) itself. In order to be called a boulangerie, the bakery must not only bake their own bread, they must also make the dough on site. Most bakeries don't do that. It's delivered and then baked.

The 21 hour rising process

Pain payoff :)

De Smurfen zijn komen

You may remember one of my very first blog posts nearly 2 years ago was about the Smurfs. Briefly - they were created by Belgian cartoonist Pierre Culliford (aka Peyo) in 1958. Of course they didn't become popular in the U. S. until nearly 25 years later with the cartoon series which began in 1981.

Translation:

"The Smurfs are coming to Delhaize Direct"

The Delhaize is our local grocery store. So local it's right across the street.

This is taken from our living room window. The Delhaize is the white building on the right. Did I mention we live over a pharmacy?

Here's the advertisement for this exciting event at the local supermarket . . .

This summer, Delhaize's world will turn blue. Honouring the release of Steven Spielberg's Smurfs movie on 3 August, the Belgian supermarket chain presents 28 figurines and 4 dolls for children to collect.

The action starts tomorrow and ends on 31 August, so children have a little over two months to let their parents fill the savings cards at the Delhaize stores: per 20 euro, the customer receives a stamp. 4 stamps is enough for a Smurfs figurine. Both the figurines and the dolls were made especially for the Belgian market, in a very small quantity.

Here's my "savings card".

Translation:

COLLECT THEM ALL!

. . . I'll try to.

As you can see the first line is in Flemish & the second is in French - like everything here because half the country speaks French and the other half speak Flemish (Dutch). Yep, there's a line right down the middle from west to east to separate it.

Keep in mind, Belgium - pictured above . . .

is less than half the size of W. Virginia - pictured below . . .

and yet one language just isn't enough.

Every time you spend €20 you get a stempel (cachet in French). So €80 and 4 stempels later and you have the equivalent of a 50 cent plastic toy.

But that's not the point! This is the Belgium Beanie Baby equivalent and we collected those for a while although I have no idea where they are now.

And once we've spent a smooth €800 at the Delhaize (and that is not difficult) plus remember to take our handy "savings card" for a stempel, we will be the proud owners of a $2.00 stuffed Smurf-figuurtjes.

But you can't get 'em anywhere else.

What a bargain. I'm in.

Goooooooal

Soccer (aka voetbal). Right up there with Nascar and oysters. I just don't get it.

But occasionally I get to go to a game where it's just for fun. Really.

Norbord has a team of young guys who get together a few times a year to have a few beers, play voetbal, and have a few more beers.

As a matter of fact, I think there's a trophy for the team that drinks the most beers. It is possible they may have won it . . . every year. It's a fundraiser.

They've even got a couple of mature guys on the team :)

From this photo, it looks like I'd been drinking. This is Jos kicking the voetbal off a beer glass/tee with a beer in each hand. Action shot.

I'm not sure if they won or lost, but . . .

everyone definitely had a good time.

Running in Heels

Well, I hate I missed this event. Every year, on the last Sunday in May, the city of Hasselt closes off, what we call the klein (small) ring - the two-lane road that encircles the centrum (center of the city).

Here's a map - a picture's worth a thousand words, right?

The klein ring is that small circle inside the big circle.

(FYI, we live where that "star" is - bottom center)

So, anyway, the city closes off that klein ring to all traffic for about 8 hours or so on a Sunday afternoon. They set up activities for the kids and you can walk, run or ride your bike without traffic to contend with.

But, here's the best part. The Modemuseum (Fashion Museum) of Hasselt sponsors a Stiletto Run. That's right - running in heels.

Can you think of anything more fun? I mean, preposterous?

Here's the rules:

- heels must be at least 9 cm (okay, that's 3.5 in)

- must run 300 meters (okay, that's about .2 miles or just over 3 football fields)

Here's a picture I snapped last time I wore my bronze 3 1/2 inch heels and stood on some OSB.

And "thanks" if you believe that.

I will say there was a day not so long ago that I could run in heels without breaking a cankle (credit for cankle: DebB), but why would I ever do that? And no way could I ever run 300 paved meters!

Ladies, I am impressed.

Best Wishes

This April 12, 2011 picture provided by Freedom to Marry shows Richard Dorr, 84, left, and John Mace, 91, at their home in New York City where they both work as voice teachers. They have been partners for 61 years, and have been hoping that legislation passes that would enable them to get married in New York. (AP Photo/Freedom to Marry, EqualityPhotography.com, Jamie McGonnigal)

Best wishes.

Sincerely,

Karen

The Invention of Ivy

This is our backyard - and Frazier, of course.

Note the wall of ivy on the right.

Solid ivy.

On Saturday morning, Jim said he should warn me that Jan (pronounced Yon - our neighbor) was pruning the hedge. Just hearing the word "pruning" can make me weak in the knees, but hearing "pruning" and "Jan (Yon)" in the same sentence makes my head spin too. I decided it was best not to look until the damage was done because I knew there'd be damage. This isn't our first Spring here.

Mercifully it started to rain and Jan (Yon) took the rest of the day off. Here is just one of the areas where he went rabid. We now have front row seats to their hot tub from our patio chairs. Now, I don't know about you, but I have no desire to see our neighbors . . . well, you get my point.

And if that weren't enough - here is another pruning faux pas. We not only have full view of our next door neighbor (Jan/Yon)'s backyard, but we can practically grill with their neighbor's without leaving our own yard.

Here's a close up of their fence now. I feel their pain.

As Jim said, he's not uncovering an old brick wall - it's heavy gauge chicken wire! Sadly Jan (Yon) does not know that ivy was invented to cover chicken wire and hurricane fences. It is its sole purpose.

So, as you can see the lush green ivy that once covered the top of our fence is now a snarl of roots and bare vines. Which begs the question - who thinks this looks good?

But, alas, I should be grateful . . . at least we only have a hole or two and not just the snarl. In all fairness to Jan (Yon), it will grow back - it did last year.

But, here is the wall on the other side of our little yard. And I would be remiss if I didn't thank the neighbors on that side for maintaining a perfect jungle, not owning pruning shears and only going outside to call their cat, Gloria (pronounced Glordia) in. They clearly know the reason for the invention of ivy.

Some Things That I Like

Just came to me. Can't 'splain it.

Hit Play and sing along.

alliax

The Things That I Like

Rain on a tin roof and Thanksgiving dinner

Purses and lipstick and being the winner

Crisp sheets and keeping my house fairly clean

These are a few of my favorite things.

Cho-co-late candy and cardigan sweaters

Christmas trees, presents and handwritten letters

Hydrangea flowers that bloom in the Spring

These are a few of my favorite things.

The dog running quickly to jump up and greet me

Packing my suitcase and smelling the coffee

Two margaritas, new boots and whipped cream

These are a few of my favorite things.

(Chorus)

When my jeans shrink and I'm gnomelike

And I buy more shoes

I simply remember some things that I like

And then I don't feeeel so blue.

A crack-e-ling fire, cake donuts and snowfall

Pictures of family and y'all used for you all

Stand-up, a moon pie and diamond earrings

These are a few of my favorite things.

Napping and screen doors and painting the kitchen

Pizza and white shirts, the smiles of my children

Unbridled laughter that happiness brings

These are a few of my favorite things.

Holding hands, beaches, and trav'ling in Europe

Shade trees and porches and fields full of tulips

Cranberry scones, queso, bakery icing

These are a few of my favorite things.

(Chorus)

When my jeans shrink and I'm gnomelike

And I buy more shoes

I simply remember some things that I like

And then I don't feeeel so blue.

:)

Okay, I admit I'm no Richard Rodgers.

War and . . .

War.

We've just finished watching Band of Brothers. It's a WWII mini-series from 10 years ago so most of you have probably already seen it. If you haven't, you should.

It had particular significance since we are now very familiar with many of the little towns where battles were fought. Eindhoven, Foy, Bastogne . . . all about an hour from where we now live.

War. I wondered if there has ever been a day in recorded history without it.

Answer: No.

Depending on which scholar is quoted, there has been an unbroken period of hostility between one group of people or another since at least 2925 B.C., maybe as far back as 4000 B.C., and there is archaeological evidence of war possibly as far back as 12,000 B.C.

As we watched the movie and saw these towns that are so near to us being destroyed it was hard to believe it was all true. The determination, the fear, the courage, the incredible loss of life, it seems surreal. Just a generation ago, this area was occupied. And if history repeats itself - can we assume a similar fate in the future?

I don't think there's any mystery as to 'why is there war?', but I have to wonder . . . 'why is there peace?'

Ancient texts of Hindus, Christians, Muslims, Chinese . . ., including those we base our current moral values on, often show an overwhelming lack of concern for human life encouraging war, slaughter, stoning, torture and genocide.

The truth is, we actually live in one of the most peaceful times on earth. Right now. From recorded history to the present, there has been a steady decline in violence. So why do we think we live in a more violent world?

Probably because we're better at reporting it. And you have to admit it's not as easy to get support for your cause if you say "things are just getting better and better". The fear factor at work.

I recently did a blog post on the death penalty and considering there was a time when one could be stoned to death for picking up sticks on a Sunday, the lethal injection may seem like progress.

As I've mentioned a few times, I grew up Catholic. My parents went to church every week until the day they died. They were Catholic and that's what you did. When the Catholic church started offering Mass on Saturday nights, my parents began to attend.

Sometimes on Sunday morning, my Daddy would get out and mow or rake or . . . pick up sticks around the house. His next door neighbor, a young Baptist, came over one Sunday morning and told my Daddy he shouldn't be working on the Sabbath.

Now, first of all you must understand the vast difference in these two men.

My Daddy was about 65 years old at the time, had grown up in the Depression, was the oldest of 10 children whose father died when he was maybe 13 years old, did not have the luxury of attending college, had survived WWII, had worked hard every day of his life since then, and still managed to go to church every week. On Saturday night.

His neighbor was maybe 30, had grown up in the 60's, his parents were still living, he was a college graduate, had read about WWII, had worked about 5 years so far, and apparently knew his Bible.

My Daddy didn't say much and the neighbor soon figured out my Daddy was a good man and that he didn't need counseling on sticks, stones or the Sabbath.

They were friends and neighbors for nearly 20 more years.

Youth - wasted on the young.

Thankfully we enjoy peace today because of men like my Daddy and those who fought in the 101st Airborne highlighted in Band of Brothers, and countless others. There's no reason for history to repeat itself. The world is a more peaceful place than it has ever been before and we have the good fortune to enjoy it . . . as well as the duty to preserve it.

As Easy As Breathing

The other day Jim and I were walking in front of a couple of women who were chatting in Flemish. Talking so fast there was no way to eavesdrop. I said "I can't imagine ever being able to speak Flemish like that." and he said "For them, it's as easy as breathing."

Of course. We don't think before we utter every single word in English - for us, it's also as easy as breathing. No matter how much I may ramble and use incorrect grammar, you still understand me.

We've now lived in a multilingual society for nearly two years and continue to be amazed at how effortlessly nearly everyone here - young and old - move from one language to another. Never missing a beat, always using the right word or phrase to express their thoughts.

I had come to the conclusion that this culture is simply smarter than us. And in some ways, I'm right.

As Jim said, "For them, it's as easy as breathing". We've made a decent effort at learning to speak Dutch, but we started late in life. Therein lies the problem and now there's scientific proof of it.

I read an article recently in the U.K. Guardian about Alzheimer's. Research on this disease is giving even more insight into a world of knowledge about the brain.

Some interesting facts:

> learning a second language and speaking it regularly can improve cognitive skills and delay the onset of dementia compared with people who speak only one language

> bilingual speakers hold Alzheimer's at bay for an extra four years compared to those who speak only one language

> bilingual children who use their second language regularly are better at prioritizing and multitasking and perform at a higher level than monolingual children

> bilinguals can negotiate between the competition of the languages and rarely make a wrong choice

The notion that speaking several languages confuses the brain and even hinders cognitive development is proven to be incorrect.

Jim and I were children of the '60's and learning a foreign language was not an option for us until we reached high school in the mid-70's. Although not required to graduate, I took a couple of years of Spanish, but by that time I was 15 years old and never had the chance to speak it outside of class. I soon forgot everything, but hola and adios. What a shame.

Even 25+ years later, our children weren't exposed to foreign languages until high school. Fortunately they both had an awesome French teacher, Anita Greenwood, who really knows what she's doing. They've both retained a huge percentage of the language they learned and try to use it as often as possible.

In previous blog posts, I've mentioned the French exchange student, Emilie, who visited and whom we've kept in touch with through the years. Emilie is now a teacher of foreign language at a preschool for 4 year olds in France. While we are in awe of children so young speaking more than one language, she told us how easy it is for them. They not only learn French, but German and at the same time may be learning their parents native language of Spanish or Arabic or Turkish.

Here in Belgium, children in elementary school begin to learn French and they have it every day. Then, a few years later they begin to learn English - also every day. They continue these languages throughout their entire school years usually adding German as well. Therefore they speak all these languages regularly throughout their developmental years.

It's no mystery why this population speaks all these languages effortlessly.

There's an interesting video at the end of this post that illustrates how the brain develops differently in a bilingual child. Something to think about . . .

Perhaps in addition to piano lessons and soccer practice, if you have the chance to introduce your child to another language at an early age (the earlier the better) and they have the chance to speak it often - every day, if possible - but every little bit helps - it is proven it will make a world of difference from day one to delayed dementia.

It will make a lot more things as easy as breathing.

So I guess this is some consolation that I'm not fluent - yet, but perhaps a challenge to beat the odds.

Transplants

For most, the E.coli outbreak in Germany may be old news, but for us it's not in some faraway country - it's right next door. I can still hardly grasp the irony that we were in the vicinity at the time, eating out at restaurants, completely unaware.

I've wondered from the beginning just what really caused this whole thing - the worst in history. An article in The Economist has finally shed some light on it for me.

First, 39 people have died; over 3,000 have been infected; and ~800 have developed serious complications leading to kidney failure. Early predictions indicate most of these will need kidney transplants or will require dialysis for the rest of their lives. These were otherwise healthy people mostly between the ages of 20 to 50.

Germany's kidney transplant list stands at 8,000. Only 2,900 were conducted last year so I will try not to even think about the fact that perhaps none of those recently infected will get one.

In Germany, studies show that 80% of their population are willing to be organ donors, but only a fraction have completed the paperwork.

The source of this E. coli is definitely bean sprouts from an organic farm in northern Germany, but it seems the only ingredients were seeds and water.

The usual procedure for sprouting is steaming at 38 degrees Celsius which apparently makes it ripe for breeding bacteria.

But the big question is - How did it get there in the first place?

It usually comes from animal feces used in manure fertilizer or animal feces that has contaminated the water. Both have been ruled out. The organic farm has complied with the strictest regulations on hygiene.

The only conclusion appears to be that the seeds were contaminated. Apparently bacteria can lie dormant in seeds and once germinated can expand 100,000 times or more and cleaning them isn't enough to kill it.

As I understand it, there's really only one way to completely prevent it - irradiation, which kills up to 99.9% of most pathogens. And no it doesn't make your food radioactive. It's the same way some medical products are sterilized. I certainly don't know much about irradiation or pathogens, but beginning in 1963, the USDA approved irradiation of wheat and flour and over the years have added approval of irradiation for vegetables, spices, poultry and red meat. Irradiation is not as widely used in Europe, but I imagine we will be hearing more about that in the weeks to come.

In the US, about one in six will become infected with a food borne illness each year. Of those, 130,000 will end up in the hospital and about 3,000 will die from complications.

* * *

According to organdonor.gov, there are currently over 110,000 Americans waiting for an organ. Eighteen of those die each day waiting, a new person is added to the list every 11 minutes, and 1 organ donor can save up to 8 lives.

You know how sometimes a tragedy can lead a person in a particular direction? When I worked at the hospital in El Dorado, the on-staff chaplain's son, who had just graduated from high school, was killed in an accident. He was young and healthy and his family had to make a quick and difficult decision about organ donation.

They decided to donate as many of his organs as possible. His liver, kidneys, and corneas gave hope to five strangers. As a result of this enormous loss, the father (the hospital chaplain) became an advocate for the organ donation program at our hospital. He counseled families who were facing that painful decision in the face of incredible loss. I suppose it's not only a way of coping, but an attempt to make something meaningful out of something so tragic.

Fortunately there are 86 million Americans signed up to be donors. I'm not one of them. I am certainly willing, but I've always thought it would be best for my family to make that final decision. I believe I will sign up and make it official.

Not just any Sunday

One of my favorite things to do is look through my photo album of "pictures that make me smile". Several years ago, as our children got older, I divided all the family pictures and gave some to Randi, some to Ross, and I created a photo album using this criteria: pictures that just make me smile when I see them.

I couldn't believe I left that photo album behind when we moved to Belgium, but on her first visit to see us, Randi brought it to me.

Back when our kids were little, we used a 35mm camera and film. I know! How did we manage? Well, we took a lot fewer pictures and weren't sure what we had until we picked them up after developing. Given that, there aren't a lot of pictures of anybody in the family so I treasure those I have.

Since it's Father's Day, I looked through my "make me smile album" and picked a few photos with Jim, my Daddy (aka Grandaddy) and Jim's Daddy (aka Pop).

If you click on the picture, I think it will pop up bigger in a new window.

Who's Who

Jim & Randi - Wedding Day

Me, Jimmy, Daddy, Tommy - Ross, Anna, Randi, Cole & Marc - Christmas

Ross, Grandaddy & Randi

Pop, Ross & Jim - Easter

Jim, Ross & Pop

Randi & Pop - Easter

Big Jim, Tommy, Daddy, Me & Jimmy

Josh, Randi, Ross, Frazier, Jim & Me - Bruges, Belgium

Am I lucky, or what?!

Happy, happy, HAPPY Father's Day!

Also on this day last year, I published this post and kind of like my photo album, it just makes me smile.

Howdy Podnuh

I really don't like country music.

I hate all the stupid lyrics 'bout truck drivin' an' boot scootin', drinkin' an' honky tonkin', lovin' an' cheatin'.

Can you believe that 2 out of every 5 Americans are country music fans? And that about 4 million people tuned in for the 2011 CMT awards? Okay, that's not much compared to the U.S. population of 310 million, but still.

Sure, it may grow on you like a bad addiction and I may have listened to a song or two of Willie Nelson and Glen Campbell, but that's it. Okay, I may have gone to a John Denver concert and I may have loved it and I would definitely go to a Dolly Parton concert, but that's definitely it.

I may have danced in a straight line with others doing the same thing a time or two, but that's it! I cringe at the thought of encountering a picture of Billy Ray Cyrus, however the mullet is my preferred hairstyle according to the internet and my face shape.

When I was growing up, my parents never listened to country music. My brothers, who were driving before I hit kindergarten, listened to the Beatles and the Rolling Stones and Jimi Hendrix. I love that music.

My high school and college days were spent listening to bands like the Eagles and Fleetwood Mac and Boston. I love that music.

As a kid, on Sunday nights we watched Lawrence Welk. I even enjoy watching reruns when I get the chance. The Lennon Sisters and Norma Zimmer were household names. And either you know this by heart . . . or you don't.

Goodnight, sleep tight, and pleasant dreams to you

Here's a wish and a prayer that every dream comes true

And now 'til we meet again

Adios, Au Revoir, Auf Wiedersehn.

Good night!

-lyrics by Jack Elliott, music by George Cates

* * *

When Jim and I were first married and before we had children, we traveled to Nashville to spend Thanksgiving with Jim's uncle's family. We were treated to a wonderful Nashville experience including attending the Grand Ole Opry. The family still hasn't let me forget that I went to sleep during the show! And the only people I remember seeing before my nap were Minnie Pearl and . . .

this guy.

Yes, he wore that outfit and sang "Trembling Lips". Good heavens. I think you get my point.

I do kind of regret missing the Louisiana Hayride during its heyday - pun intended, but it ended the year I was born. Just an hour down the road in Shreveport, it's where Elvis Presley made his first television appearance in 1955.

Side note: If you've never been to Graceland, go. It is un-believeabl . . . y tacky.

Side note II: Blog post title reference - Podnuh's is a BBQ restaurant chain in Louisiana. There is/was one in Monroe and the first time Jim and I ate there, I asked "What is a pod noo?" He quickly set me straight by explaining that it meant "partner". You know, like pod - nuh. Okay, I guess it's already spelled just like it sounds.

* * *

Since Jim got his bargain violin (aka fiddle) at the antique market, he's been playing a few country tunes not only on the fiddle, but also listening to some on his computer. Well, I hate to admit it, but I actually like some of it. And he wouldn't want me to say this, but he's actually getting pretty good on the fiddle. I picked it up, gave it a try and put it right back down. It's damn near impossible to play that thing.

So as a result of this new "country music and fiddle playin'", I won't be tuning into the CMT 2012 awards show and I still don't like country music, but I do have a new favorite song. It's from way back in 1987. Here's the video. Hit Play and then sing along with the lyrics below. Then do it again :)

You may think that I'm talkin' foolish
You've heard that I'm wild and I'm free
You may wonder how I can promise you now
This love that I feel for you always will be
But your not just time that I'm killin'
I'm no longer one of those guys
As sure as I live, this love that I give
Is gonna be yours until the day that I die.

(Chorus)
Oh baby I'm gonna love you forever
Forever and ever amen
As long as old men sit & talk about the weather
As long as old women sit & talk about old men
If you wonder how long I'll be faithful
I'll be happy to tell you again
I'm gonna love you forever and ever
Forever and ever amen.

They say time takes its toll on a body
Makes a young girls brown hair turn gray
But honey I don't care I ain't in love with your hair
And if it all fell out well I'd love you anyway
They say time can play tricks on a memory
Make people forget things they knew
Well it's easy to see it's happenin' to me
I've already forgotten every woman but you.

(Chorus)
Oh darlin' I'm gonna love you forever
Forever and ever amen
As long as old men sit & talk about the weather
As long as old women sit & talk about old men
If you wonder how long I'll be faithful
Just listen to how this song ends
I'm gonna love you forever and ever
Forever and ever amen.

I'm gonna love you forever and ever
Forever and ever
Forever and ever
Forever and ever amen.