Critters

Hello friends!

I don't know about you and your past week but we have had an interesting one, to say the least. As most weeks do, it all started Monday, when we finally cleared the office stuff out of the guest house. The girls and I cleaned, organized and set up a fairly incredible entertainment complex for kids (so when you come visit, I hope you enjoy Disney DVDs and Nintendo Wii), stocked the frigo with obscene things like Root Beer, Coca-Cola, Klondike ice cream bars and bottles of water, put in a stereo system along with our collection of seven million CDs, added a few cushy/fluffy elements such as rather huge feather beds with many pillows and, just as we thought it was cozy enough for kids (until I buy some decent adult furniture) we turned around and watched this giant SCORPION walk through the door. So after retrieving my previously mentioned pistol and returning that weirdly tailed demon back to that dark place from whence it came, we calmed down a bit. (Actually, it was only 2 inches long and I used a flyswatter; but doesn't the gun story sound better?)

As if that wasn't enough, Sagey then decided to jinx us with this comment: Step-G, there are three 'S' things in this world that really scare me...scorpions, snakes and spiders. To which Sjaantje responded, 'Make that four 'S' things: scorpions, snakes, spiders and Sagey.' You can imagine what happened then - the girls play fighting, tickling and chasing each other out into the back garden until all of a sudden they nearly stepped on a 3 foot long SNAKE! In our yard. Oh, great. You know I hate snakes. Scream, scream, scream and then back into the guest house, slamming the door behind them. Although I never saw the snake, I immediately grabbed the flyswatter as if that was going to solve the problem. After discussing this episode with David, he informed us that the snake is a harmless grass snake named Fred who lives in the luxurious greenery around the primordial soup pool. Inevitably, all of this commotion was followed by spider after spider after spider. That's what I meant by Sagey's jinxing comment.

While we're on the topic of critters, have I mentioned how many deer are in Wimberley? They are literally everywhere - in our front yard, in the neighbor's yard, by the grocery store. It's difficult for me to describe the beauty of the deer. What...majestic? fragile? gorgeous? and perhaps defiant? The deer are all of that and it is a breathtaking joy to see them. And the defiance perhaps comes from the unfortunate fact that the deer are often hunted by Chevrolets and Cadillacs. Unfortunately, after Wuzzy was attacked by that Mastiff in France, Sjaantje continues to freak out whenever any other animal is around, specifically when we're walking the dog. Therefore, even the deer scare her. Bless her sensitive heart!

Speaking of Wuzzy, we took him to meet the prospective breeders yesterday. They live in San Antonio and, after checking out Wuzzy's physique, they announced that Wuzzy is exactly what they were looking for to mate this perfect 'bitch' in Arkansas. I asked, 'Is her name Hilary?' to which they innocently responded, 'No, her name is Rebecca.' So that's a blessing. Anyway, we still have to get some x-rays of Wuzzy's hips, the inevitable sperm count and then....well, I understand this is going to sound weird and Henk and I looked like ridiculous goof horns when we first heard it but here is a part of the conversation:

Breeder woman: Looks good, gonna have to come and collect him.

Henk: OK. Do you need our address? And after you pick him up, then what?

Breeder woman: What?

Henk: Collect him. Don't you need to know where we live and can we come along?

Breeder woman: No. I mean I need to collect his sperm. Not the dog.

Henk: Oh! Woops! (Pause) How does that happen exactly?

And I'll stop that story at this point.

Hey! We actually had a dinner party last night! It's been about 3 months since I've cooked for a crowd and let me just mention the fact that I have been missing it so. Eight adult guests, Henk and I plus four kiddos who obviously were out battling snakes and scorpions while they watched their movies and ate Pizza Hut pizza - delivered to the house! Unfortunately the pizza came with a few packets of pepper which, unbeknownst to Sjaantje, would be harmful if thrown in the eyes of the attacker. Point being, Sjaantje and the two other girls were wrestling and doing other seemingly harmful yet innocent things with the boy, Atticus (14 years; think Atticus Finch) and as a defensive measure, Sjaantje grabbed an open packet of pepper and threw it towards Atticus. Flush the eyes, flush the eyes, etc. Atticus was a good sport and laughed about it, while Sjaantje stood there completely mortified. 'I didn't know that was pepper! When have we ever had a pizza delivered, Mom?!?!' She's right, especially about the packets of pepper part.

Dinner/arrival of the guests started off grandly, until I went into the living room and watched as my dog contentedly ate the very rare and expensive bread we had bought for the occasion. Funny, he didn't touch the cheese and charcuterie I had out...only the bread. The dinner was a 5 course success and, yes, no big plastic things allowed on the table. In fact, not so strategically I told one man to remove his baseball cap or I wouldn't allow him at my table. I'm so mean.

Admittedly, we received some wonderful 'host' gifts. A large bowl of okra (gumbo) and green tomatoes - some things we are definitely going to use. Henk is, in fact, making gumbo right now; and fried green tomatoes are a delicious southern dish, but one has to be in the mood for them. The one gift which is bothering me is 1.5 liters of Deep Eddy Iced Tea Flavored Vodka. I'm so not there. Don't drink vodka, don't drink iced tea unless it's a matter of life and death. Water, coffee, wine, orange juice. That's it. Boring am I.

XO

Wend

Paradise Lost

Hello friends!

I'll start with the bad news: For the past 4 or 5 days, I've noticed a particular cluster of hairs on the top of my head which have a frighteningly grayish tint. Due to my poor eyesight and of course hoping for some reassurance otherwise, every morning I ask Henk, 'Are these gray hairs!??' 'No', he responds, then snortles and says 'You WISH you were as cool as me.' But I promise you, they are not blonde. They're gray. And I'm already cool.

Forty-one years old, never a gray hair - only blonde in the summer - and once I leave France, I turn gray. And to add insult to injury, 15 year old Sagey is now a whopping 5' 8" tall. And blonde. I'm still struggling to push my 5' 3 1/2" body another 1/2 inch upwards in order to match my driver's license stats plus I assume I'll soon have to change the notation about my hair color. Oh, and I have to renew my license this week. Looking forward to it.

Guess what?!! We found a decent bakery! 'Phoenix Rising' is about 15 miles from us and they sort of know how to bake bread. Out of bread desperation, Henk bought a very tasty loaf - which is the equivalent of a round Fourquetain loaf - for $6.00. The baguettes were not available until the following day and their price would be $2.50. Missing the bakery in Fourques.

Sjaantje has developed a new gourmet taste: corny dogs! For you English/French/Norwegians, that's a hotdog sausage surrounded by a cornbread breading (for lack of a better term), skewered and deep fried. Coming from her background, this is what Sjaantje calls exotic food. She manages to still be considered appropriate for the children's menu at some restaurants (thanks to her mom's genes) and therefore eats corny dogs whenever we're out. Impressive to say the least: I'll have the beef carpaccio, followed by the veal chop with peppercorn sauce plus a side of lightly steamed asparagus with fleur du sel and tiny shavings of aged Parmesano; my husband would prefer the soft shell crabs with gribiche sauce coupled with the wasabi creme sauce, followed by the tenderloin of beef medallions with a side of fresh sauteed foie garnished with quince compote, raspberries and the reduced port wine sauce; and please, a bottle of your best wine; plus a coke and a corny dog. As if there was a restaurant here with that sort of menu.

Sagey arrived last Tuesday and since then, I think she's spent her spare time wondering why there is no swimming pool. I explained to her that we do have one, it's just very small and shallow. Until Sunday afternoon, neither Sjaantje nor Sage ventured into the pool because it was a bit on the primordial soup side of life. Not to worry! Saturday I cleaned it with 2 toothbrushes and 14 scrubby sponges.

Admittedly it took me the best part of 4 hours but needed to be done. Now we have a very clean, 'no diving allowed', extremely shallow cooling off watering hole. Speaking of watering hole, I took the chicas to David's mother-in-law's house last week. 'Grandma', as she is affectionately known, lives on a private creek. This creek has a 'swimming hole' which is about 9 feet deep (3 meters) and features a ginormous tree with a rope. The rope is not for hanging yourself, rather for grasping, swinging, letting go over the water and splashing down into the deep and mysterious waters of the Cypress Creek. The girls had a blast and 94 year old Grandma is their new best friend.

Henk and girls went tubing Saturday with a rather large group of people. (Obviously, I was busy doing other things.) They had a great time: floating in an inner tube at 2 mph, swimming occasionally, watching people drink Bud Light through a 5 foot long funnel and waiting two hours to finally be expunged down a single rapid. Henko was wearing a sleeveless t-shirt for some reason. Sunday morning, I noticed that he was quite sunburned with a full blown farmer's tan (arms and neck only). Henk said, 'Oh. Next time I'll just wear the sleeves and my tan will even itself out.'

I must say that I am amazed at the overwhelming understanding of the people here, especially when it comes to family. For example, when Sagey arrived and we first visited the grocery store, I explained to my new favorite cashier that Sage was my granddaughter and Sjaantje my daughter. Normally, this would be cause for speculation from the receiving party and giggling on our part. But here in Wimberley, the cashier just said, 'Yeah? I got me a grandson, he's 'bout 12. I'm only forty-two. You musta started 'fore I did.' Gray hairs?

Yesterday, being Father's Day and all, the chicas and I planned a nice day for Henk and, vicariously, for Wuzzy. We started at a dog show in San Antonio where the prospective Newfie breeder was showing some of his dogs. Wow! What gorgeous animals! We met the breeder, Bill is his name, as well as the future girlfriend of Wuzzy. The bitches (the technical term for a breeding female, I promise) are all chocolate brown, beautiful and were winning all kinds of awards. We take The Wuz next week to the breeder for a bit of an inspection. Bill told us that Wuzzy is of excellent pedigree and northern European at that - which we obviously already knew - and it would benefit his kennel to mate with Wuz. More on that later.

After the dog show, we had lunch at a Mexican restaurant on the Riverwalk - which is a rather large collection of restaurants and shops, all nestled on the river - and decided to sit outside to engage in a bit of people watching. In 15 seconds, I counted 6 extremely obese people who happened to waddle past our table. Imagine if I'd been counting for an hour! That is one malady that I simply cannot blame on being in the water because clearly these people are drinking lots of sodas instead. I don't mean to sound judgmental or anything like that; I'm simply not used to seeing so many 300-400 lb people after being in France (or Holland) for 6 plus years. It was simply quite noticeable.

We went to visit a real Moonshine factory! (Remind me to put that on our list of 'Things to do while in the Hill Country') They actually make rum - which is for some unknown reason vanilla flavored - in their barn. If I understood their process correctly, they are fermenting molasses and then adding water and vanilla beans. There's that water thing again. It was one incredible set-up, I must admit. Supposedly they're waiting for permits and the like.

Jill! Yesterday, I broke down and ordered Patak's Lime Pickle on line, from some outfit in Chicago. Then this morning, I received a call from the local grocery store who has been trying to find it, saying they bought a case for me! By tomorrow afternoon, I'll have 8 bottles. I'm so happy. The reason the grocery store could not find it easily is because it's called Lime Relish in the States and here I was insisting it was called Lime Pickle.

Good news! This morning we received an email from our infamous car shipper and supposedly our car finally shipped out today! Unfortunately and definitely a cause for worry, it was put on a boat called the 'Shanghai Highway'. Henk is concerned. The car has been sitting on the dock for what, 5 weeks? FYI, when we shipped our car from Charleston, S.C. to Europe it arrived with 122 extra miles on the odometer. I really don't think they were driving the car around on the boat, more likely someone took a small roady with our car. So knowing that, what do you think could have happened in five weeks?!?!?!! Be afraid; be very afraid.

Is Martin practicing the guitar? Ted? Just because I'm now 6000 miles away doesn't mean that I'm a neglectful teacher. One way or another I'll find out, you know.

Our love to all of you.

Wend, Henko, Sjaantje, Sage and Wuzzy

I hate snakes...

...especially rattley ones and moccasins (not the shoe but the water variety, with a mouth that looks like cotton and a bite that will paralyze you in the water and, subsequently, you drown).

Would you believe that right now Henk and Sjaantje are at the river watching some guy perform a 'Snake Shoot'? It's as simple as it sounds: he is shooting snakes. Apparently the river provides a home to some water moccasins as large as 5 feet long which are usually shot by the old woman across the road (not our house but one on the river) who then lays their carcasses across the highway, just to make sure they're dead. There might be some rattle snakes as well but not in the water, of course.

I opted out of these festivities as I found this invite a bit too much.

What are we doing here?!!!!

Missing the somewhat less venomous Catalans -

xo

Wend

Weekend update

Hi kids!

Just a quick note to say hello and to fill you in on our ever-so-exciting-ongoing-adventures! It's pretty hot here already, about 96 F which is what, upper 30s Celsius? That tiny pool in the backyard is looking pretty good about now, regardless of the algae and giant bullfrog monster. I'm in the process of building an altar for the God of Air Conditioning.

This morning I decided to do some outdoor cleaning up and gardening. So, keenly picking up on the local fashion at the manicure/hair salon the other day, I outfitted myself with super short shorts, a skin tight wife-beater (tank top) and, yes, boots before venturing into the front yard. Unfortunately I don't have any cowboy boots so my hiking boots had to suffice. In spite of my unfashionable boots, I was apparently worthy of random horn honking - a country man's way of paying a compliment. I probably would have been more successful if I'd been atop a riding mower or horse instead of clipping the hedges with my kitchen scissors. Oh well; I'm sure I'll learn as we go along.

Hedges done, leaves raked, spider webs and wasp nests washed away plus 3 blisters later, Henk returned from his daily excursion to Home Depot (I'm pretty sure he has a girlfriend who works there) bringing with him some herb seeds. Henk and I elected Sjaantje to be the official 'planter of the seeds' since the only thing that grew in our herb garden in Fourques was the parsley that she planted one and a half years ago. (If you remember, we had a parsley jungle but absolutely nothing else.) Sjaantje has now planted Oregano, Thyme, Rosemary and rather unfortunately Tarragon - I cannot stand Tarragon. I hope the other herbs will thrive. I intend to get some more seeds: parsley, scallions, cilantro, maybe some tomatoes and peppers. The herbs are in large terra cotta pots on the front porch - can't wait for them to cultivate.

Sjaantje had two girls over to spend the night last night. First we wowed them with frozen pizza and Blue Bell ice cream (that's a Texas brand) both of which they loved; then this morning Henko made crepes, which they hated. Despite their culinary addictions, the two girls - Josie and Nelly - are quite nice, well mannered and cute. David's granddaughters, of course.

As I type this, Henko is making some Mango ice cream. God, the mangoes here! If you love mangoes, you should be very jealous. Tonight we'll have a rack of lamb, Texas tomatoes and mango ice cream. Wish each of you could join us!

Tomorrow we are going to check out an equestrian center. The prices of horseback riding lessons here are about 3 times the rate in Fourques/Montauriol. Not too happy about that. So we're checking out our options for Sjaantje. It may be better to train the horse that David has for Sjaantje and have someone come out to teach Sjaantje at the same time. We'll see.

After the equestrian center, we're invited to have a cocktail at an old friend of mine's house - about 15 miles from us. My friend is a fairly masculine and blonde woman who has adopted two African/American children. She and her partner (read wife) wanted to know if we liked Schlitz beer. I cannot begin to express how excited Henk is about our upcoming social excursion.

Good news! Sage arrives next Friday night! She was going to come on Monday or Tuesday but alas, the teenage social calendar calls. So Friday it is. Maybe. We can't wait.

There is a Newfoundland (dog) breeder in San Antonio with whom I've been in contact. After many emails, they want to meet Wuzzy and see about possible breeding. First, he must be AKC registered which shouldn't be a problem since he has the equivalent in Holland. I'll start that paperwork on Monday. But they also want a sperm count - to make sure he can actually provide the necessities for reproduction. I'm going to let Henk handle that one. He has a way with numbers, you know.

That's it for our news. Do keep in touch!

Much love to you all -

Wend, Henk, Sjaantje/Emile and Wuzzy

English anyone?

Well Howdy!

How are things in paradise? Shining sun? No Tramontana? The Med is warming and softly calling? Fresh baguettes and banettes in the morning? The people are still speaking more than one language and, if English is an option, they actually know how to speak it? Lucky.

I have no doubt that you all are just waiting for my weekly updates - if only to scoff and snort at our adventures, so be it. And rightly so! Life here continues to be a daily eye-opening experience.

For example, (and this may come as a surprise) last week I made tacos and, since there was half a cow worth of taco meat, we invited a couple of new acquaintances to join us, in addition to Henk's friend David. Long story short, one of the invitees doesn't drink alcohol - which is great, for him - but what he does like is iced tea. In fact, he loves iced tea so much that he walks around with a TWO LITER plastic mug (with a handle and emblazoned with a 'Shell Oil' logo, of course) and fills it up whenever he can - which is usually at the gas station and apparently before he goes to someone's house for dinner. That's fine; it's just that he then set that dirty, plastic two liter iced tea idol on the dining room table when we had dinner. Should I have told him to please remove the behemoth from the table and use a civilized glass? I'm not sure. Thoughts, anyone?!

Then there was the 'Snake Shoot'. Did you see the picture of Sjaantje with the gun? Thank you, Diane for the article about the snakes. It seems correct because there were no snakes that night. According to the locals, there should have been hundreds. I know that must mess up the ecosystem and all of that but frankly, I wasn't too keen on Sjaantje being around snakes. And holding a gun.

Speaking of guns, we have our old one back. Well, one of them anyway. When we moved overseas, we left our two guns with David who has now given one back to us. Hey, you never know when someone's going to try to steal your horse. I'm trying to find a safe place for the gun - which is a .25 pistol. I was thinking of hooking it on my belt...

And now speaking of horses, Sjaantje has spent a little time with her horse, named Daisy. Daisy doesn't like to be ridden but Sjaantje, bless her heart, is trying to woo her with carrots and brushing. We'll see. Yesterday however, while we were enjoying a typical Sunday afternoon BBQ at some friends' house, Sjaantje went on a two hour ride with my new friend Delana's husband Dean. She loved it - until they were chased off of private property, no doubt by some guy with a rifle.

Three nights ago, we had a very large storm: lightening, thunder, electricity going out, more thunder, etc... Poor, ridiculous watch dog Wuzzy went crazy. First, he trashed out Sjaantje's room - trying to wake her up and alert her to his perceived danger - and then he ran upstairs and, again, jumped onto the bed. Hyperventilating, heartbeat at about 200 bpm, drooling and whining, he kept us up all night. Merde! What a big baby! I do think with those sounds he is reliving his flight experience. But still. I can't wait until July 4 when Henk will get into his 'I'm a young boy!' mode and play with fireworks for a few hours. Wuzzy's going to freak.

Henk and I went to a wine tasting on Friday afternoon, at the local liquor store of course. We were the only ones there. The 'tasting' consisted of one bottle of Portuguese wine, served in tiny plastic Dixie cups (like those used for urine samples) and served by a man who simply poured the wine, set the cup down and said, 'Here'. The wine had an interesting bouquet of diesel plus a hint of hairspray mixed with grass; and it left my tongue curling into the fetal position. When we gave our aforementioned opinion, the server asked if we'd like some more. Making friends...

Saturday morning we went to Central Market, which is the most amazing grocery store in the world. Beats the aioli out of Auchan. After much discussion about the variety of raspberries, we decided to buy the gold ones. Yes, golden raspberries. Central Market is THE PLACE for exotic food fetishes. I love it so. Soft shell crab? Yep! Veal rib chops? Absolutely, and Frenched at that. Baby courgette - the size of my pinkie -? Duh. For some reason they didn't have a section for Cotes du Roussillon wines. I'm going to talk to them about that. They did have aioli, but it was in a 2 oz. jar and cost $7.99. Coming from Roussillon, that seemed a bit high. Does anyone have an excellent aioli recipe? Please send it!

Oh, and Jill, I'm still having trouble getting the Patak's Lime Pickle. The grocery store in Wimberley supposedly has been trying to get it for me since they have nearly every other condiment from the Patak's line. Nothing so far, and Central Market had everything but as well. I did find a Lime Pickle from a brand called Sukhi's, based in California. It's extremely bitter. And Jill, I forgot to tell you that I met a woman at a different store (World Market which also has a line of Patak's but no LP) who, while perusing the Patak's line told me that she went to school in England with Mr. Patak himself. His first name is something weird (go figure) like Cheetah or something but, in any case, he comes to visit this woman and her husband every year. She told me that the factory used to be in the south of England, somewhere between London and Oxford, but for financial reasons they moved the factory north. Interesting. I should have asked for her phone number since that's the most intriguing conversation I've had so far and I would like to continue along that vein.

I mentioned the BBQ yesterday...I have to say that out of the 10 guests (not including us), I counted a total of about 86 teeth which was nearly the same number as the tattoos I tallied. I, wearing some of my fun pants from L'Escala, was asked by one woman, 'Where'd ya get them there culottes?' After quickly running her question through my Texan to English dictionary microchip I recently had implanted in my brain, I replied 'Spain'. Ten seconds passed while she regarded me with a rather hazy and vacant expression, followed by 'Do what now?'. Microchip dictionary at work again, I repeated my monosyllabic answer (thinking it was less confusing than, for example, a sentence), 'Spain.' 'Where's dat?' Luckily, I had my Atlas with me.

Sounds exactly like our Sunday afternoons in France, does it not?

Henk had a similar, nee identical, experience at the grocery store yesterday. Since he's not a fan of Bud Light, he wanted to buy some Heineken to take to the BBQ. When he went to check out, the cashier said, 'You know you CAINT buy beer now. You gotta wait till 12:00. Where're you from, boy?'' A little law we had forgotten about - no beer or wine sales before noon on Sunday in Texas. That way, you can pick up your hooch on the way home from church. When Henk replied, 'I just moved here from France. I'd forgotten about that law!', the cashier said, 'Where's?'. Henk said, 'France.' Another long blank stare from yet another person - I swear there must be something in the water (we've been buying bottled water, thank God) - and then again, 'Where's?!!' Gentle Henk replied with, 'You know, France. It's a country, where they speak French, wear berets and make baguettes. Just below Belgium and right above Spain, in Europe, across the Atlantic ocean. FRANCE.' Light bulb, 'Oh! FRAYANCE! I thought you said France.' (I'm assuming 'France' sounded more like 'Friends' to her.)

I guess that's it for now. Sending our love and big kisses to all of you. And please, feel free to call and engage us in stimulating conversation from time to time before our brains go irreversibly over to the squishy side.

xoxoxo

Wend, Henk and Sjaantje

Texas

Hello dear friends!

I hear the Tramontana has stopped - I must say, that is one thing we don't miss. YOU guys, however, we miss. Here we are, on a sunny Sunday afternoon, about to BBQ and wishing each of you could join us. Some day! By the way, who is going to be the first to visit us?!!

All has gone amazingly well with our move. It's so surprising! Henk and I must have felt like beaten dogs and therefore assumed every foot was going to kick us; something about trying to make things happen and repeatedly being struck down, or told 'Non!', or 'C'est impossible ici!'. But we had absolutely no problems with the move. Go figure.

After Henk left Sjaantje, Wuzzy and me at the airport in Frankfurt, he spent the weekend in Haarlem, NL with his cousin Betty. On Monday, he drove to Zeebrugge and put our car on the boat. (There was a small issue with his train from ZB to Amsterdam breaking down and sitting on the tracks for 5 hours....) Tuesday morning Henk left from AMS and flew to Houston and then on to Austin, where his friend David picked him up.

The next morning, our container arrived one hour early! With the help of a couple of guys, we unloaded in 40 minutes. For those of you who helped load the bastard in the first place, I must tell you that absolutely nothing had shifted, fallen or otherwise! What a great job you did! Thanks again. With all of those boxes, there was only one thing that broke - a soup bowl that was already cracked completely down the middle. Better to break that way than with a bowl of steaming gumbo in it.

So for the past 4 days, we've been unpacking and organizing. I find that we are in desparate need of bookshelves and some small cabinets so Ted, could you please mail our old ones back to us?!! (What's up with the TV, by the way?) For some ridiculous reason, I enjoy organizing so these past few days have been a small, quiet vacation for me.

I'll tell you about the house: It's called an 'A - frame' construction, downstairs has a living room and dining area, kitchen, salle de bain and Sjaantje's room. Upstairs is a large, triangular loft with two sleeping niches, a bathroom (with an amazing huge bathtub and shower) plus another lounging/working area where we've put our computer. The floors are hardwood except for the living/dining area which is terra cotta tile. Very nice, except I need a large gas stove...cooking on electric just doesn't work for me.

The back garden/yard has a guest house which I will tackle next week after the real house is complete. Also, a very large playhouse for Sjaantje which she has already furnished, decorated and utilized. There is a rock fountain which flows into a small jacuzzi sized 'pool' - enough to cool off in but absolutely no diving allowed since it's only 2 feet deep. The 'pool' is surrounded by ivy, trees and potted plants which will surely and unfortunately die under my care! I'm not good with plants. The side yard is large and barren - just waiting for a real swimming pool which, hopefully, will be built soon. The front yard has a two tiered garden and grass area, lots of ornamental rock and a large front veranda (called a 'porch' in Texan). The front and side sections of the property are delineated with a large stone wall which is kind of like very fancy cinder block. We're surrounded by mosquitos and trees - one of which is a rather large fig! (Tree, I mean.)

Imagine moving to the States and, when you land, you have a house, car, phone, internet, cable television, water, electricity, etc... Immediately! I think we would have felt bumfuzzled without all of those. Henk's friend David (our friend actually!) is a prince of a man.

OK. That's it for the details. Now, adjusting to life here? Well, that is going to be a bit of a challenge. Here in Wimberley, life moves at a very slow pace. Everyone is very friendly but extremely country on the 'hick' side. (Peggy, please explain what a 'hick' is.) I know there is a large international community close by, mostly German and Dutch with a few French, but we have yet to make ourselves known to them. (!)

We went to a 'Hamburger Cookout' Friday night: down on the river (of which there are 2 flowing through Wimberley and the surrounding cities), lots of Bud Light beer, baked beans and spicy frites, country music playing on the stereo, dogs and horses running amuck and everyone sitting in rocking chairs on the 'porch'. Pretty fun, except a few of the women were wearing 'Harley Davidson' t-shirts and bragging that they had never been out of Texas in their entire life. They scared me and I really didn't find any soulmates in that group. But, you never know. In any case, the group was fun and I expect we'll be invited to the next BBQ or, even better, to go 'tubing' down the river. Side note: 'Tubing' is when you plant your butt in an inflated large truck innertube - one for you and another one for your cooler of Bud Light - and float slowly down the warm, green, urine and snake infested river. I've done that at least a dozen times before but hey, I was quite a bit younger.

Everyone in the stores are exceedingly helpful and friendly! They, too, scared us the first time we encountered them. The prices of things are not what we remembered from 6 plus years ago but I imagine that's just the way it goes. Still, I filled the car with gasoline the other day - $38.00!!!!! That, my friends, felt weird.

I went to the butcher on Tuesday to get a nice chunk of beef tenderloin - anticipating Henko's arrival and dinner - and the butcher had one eye going east, the other facing west. It's was difficult to maintain a conversation with him. But when he told me (in a Texas country accent) , 'Ya know I put me some bacon around that there meat and cook it and it tastes just fine and juicy with that bacon!' and I responded 'Doesn't that make the filet taste like bacon?', he said 'Have yourself a nice day, Mam'. OK, so I did.

The lamb here is incredible! Texas lamb is very good, but the Colorado is the best. Beats the hooves off of Catalan lamb. The prices? Around $8.50 a pound. Tenderloin of beef? About the same. Mangos? We just spent $3 for 15 mangos, ripe and beautiful Mexican ones. Hey, I bought a pack of 16 rolls of toilet paper (double ply) for less than $4. Try to do that at Auchan! Texas rocks.

Sjaantje has made a playmate, the daughter of David's friend. Her name is Hannah and, although she's a little younger than Sjaantje they have been having a blast. Common interests: bugs, nature, animals, nail polish and Wuzzy. I have some info for summer camps for Sjaantje: horseback riding, swimming and also art. She wants to go to all of them.

Henk is fine - at the moment, he is constructing a BBQ pit (no doubt for OUR hamburger cookout). He's already been 3 times to the Home Depot (Texas version of Leroy Merlin, only better) and is building a stone and metal apparatus for grilling steaks tonight. Man, the things we do for food. Henk was thrilled to discover that Home Depot is open on Sundays! As is everything else, for that matter.

We've had a few issues with the sliding glass door in the kitchen - mostly not realizing it was there. Luckily we haven't yet broken the glass but Henk did bust his lip and Wuzzy almost the same. Wuzzy is fine; I think he's finally over the massive traumatization we put him through. The other night he heard Texas thunder for the first time and freaked; charged into the house and hid in the pantry; then he went completely catatonic because the air conditioning compressor is in the pantry - I think he thought it was a jet engine. I had to pull him out by his front paws, through an immense puddle of nervous drool he had just expunged. Gross.

I guess that's all of our news. Don't forget to keep in touch. I/We think of you daily. What a fantastic group of people you are.

Gros Bisous -

Wend

Thunder and manicures

Hello friends! Prepare yourself for some really exciting news!.........

Today Sjaantje and I went to get our nails done. This was the fourth time in my entire life to get a manicure, the third for a pedicure - point being that's really not me but, after the big ol' move and all, my nails were shredded and my toes and feet just plain gross. Our 'Nail Specialist' was named Sally but the kicker was her last name: Presley. Need I say more? If I do, then this is it: Elvis memorabilia adorning the walls, Elvis keychain (presumably for the autoclave lock), pictures of Graceland on the walls and, weirdly, a picture of Rome as well. And then, bless her heart, Sally said, 'Just where did you girls move from?' When I responded with, 'France!', Sally sort of bent over and pointed both arms in some direction (N,S,E,W - I'm not sure because I'm still a bit disoriented) and with two loud lungs exclamed, 'YOU MEAN LIKE THAT OTHER COUNTRY OVER THERE SOMEWHERES?' The confusion on Sally's face was basically priceless. From that point on, Sjaantje and I were treated as a sort of cross-bred royalty/alien species. So that was fun.

By the way, Sjaantje's nails are now painted, in an alternating pattern, midnight blue and dark green. She's gone all Goth on me. Too young. See what The States will do to kids?

Speaking of my favorite little Monkey Butt, Sjaantje went camping last weekend with some new friends. She swam in the river, dove off of a 10 foot high diving board (into the river, about 30 feet deep), went kayaking, fishing and even caught her first fish (a foot long catfish) which, as you would assume, she threw back into the water.

Sjaantje seems to be adapting well; in fact tomorrow morning, Sjaantje is going to another friend's house. Don't worry. We're not shipping Sjaantje off with strangers. The new friends are David's grand-daughters and they're the same age as Sjaantje. I've known their Dads for 19 years and Henk and his first wife used to take care of them! It's nice that they are coming around and taking Sjaantje under their wing now.

On another note, THUNDER is a big, bad, frightening, demonic, horrifying terror to our favorite Bear/Dog. Short of giving you the embarrassing details, I'll just say that last night Wuzzy ran upstairs and jumped into our bed. Get an image of that. It was thundering. Our big protector.

Ironically and before Wuzzy's actions last night, we have been in contact with a Newfie breeder in San Antonio. We would love to have an offspring of our fearless one!

Aside from that, all else is well. Henk has been painting and I'm still organizing our stuff (and finding long lost items that I hadn't seen since we left Dallas in 2004!) and we're just trying to plant our feet here. It's good. We're hoping to eventually find some people with whom we can communicate. All things take time.

Sagey arrives next Friday and Sjaantje has already prepared Sage's bed, cleared out some space in the closet and posted a sign on her bedroom door that reads: Sjaantje/Emile and Sagey's room NO BOYS ALLOWED except Dad.

We miss you guys; almost as much as we miss the boulangerie in Fourques - the bread here is all soft and squishy! Plus, they call it 'Pain Frances'. I don't know who Frances is but obviously she doesn't know how to make bread.

Big kiss to all of you and much love from us -

Wend, Henk, Sjaantje and the Wuz

Well howdy ya'll!

...just kidding of course. Trying to get into that Texas slang. I think it's going to take a while.

So, assuming you want to know the details of our travel experience, here's the update:

1. Missing all of you, very much so.

2. Hell of a travel we just experienced. Let me break it down for you...

a.) 600 MILES on Thursday, May 13 from Fourques to Strasbourg; all went relatively well except Wuzzy was so nervous that he experienced an intestinal problem = many stops and voiture fumigation issues;

b.) At least I think it was Wuzzy;

c.) The obscene 'on top of the car' contraption actually held in place - mind you, after 50 miles and our first 'air out the car stop', the luggage rails had slid a bit to the side and the bolts were a sort of on the loose side. Luckily, Handy Henk had his wrench and tightened the bolts but every 10 minutes or so, while driving, we would roll down the windows and check/feel if it was slipping! (Honestly, I had absolutely no idea what I was supposed to be feeling. I was more concerned about my fingers suddenly being ripped off if the ghastly contraption decided to take flight.)

d.) No doubt we looked really cool on the highway.

e.) After 300 miles and our 8th stop, we noticed our high quality Catalan tarp/cover was shredding. Again, Handy Henk had some AMERICAN duct tape and stopped that impeding disaster. Kind of like putting nail polish on a panty hose run.

f.) Although the forecast was rain for the entire route, we didn't have any ,until we were exactly 10 minutes from our hotel. So we were blessed with that. Plus, no-one bothered to pilfer our suitcases, two of which were in the kennel-on-top-of-the-car-contraption and parked outside of the hotel. Another thumbs up from the Big Guy.

g.) The next day was comparatively easy, only 150 miles to drive. After checking into the hotel, Henk and I left the two kiddos (one human, one canine) and went to the airport to actually check our bags for the flight. This was a big issue, because think about this: Me, Sjaantje, 4 large suitcases, 2 carry-ons, 56 Kg. Wuzzy the beast, the giant breed dog kennel and trying to check all of this in on time for our morning flight...impossible.

h.) Friday night Henk assembled Wuzzy's kennel and attached the necessary stickers (a la 'Live Animal', 'Please be nice to my doggy' and all other identifying thingies). In fact, the hotel let us store the kennel in a side room until the next morning. Nice. Saturday morning we took the shuttle bus from the hotel to the airport. Although where the bus dropped us off was not quite the place we needed to be. (Ooh, isn't that a fun gramatically incorrect sentence! Heavy on the prepositions ending the sentence. It would have been a little bit more spicy if I'd ended the sentence with 'to be at'.) So Henk pulled the kennel along and Sjaantje and I had the Wuz etc...

i.) At another time I'll tell you about the 8 different opinions we were given regarding where we take the dog for the flight... We did eventually find the correct place and bye-bye Wuz.

j.) The main point is the three of us arrived safely. All of the baggage as well. But there was a problem with finding Wuzzy. I was told to pick him up at the Cargo area of the airport - about 10 miles away - but he was (unbeknownst to me) actually sitting in his kennel at the baggage claim. In a corner. Two hours after we landed, we finally found him (after going back through security/customs). It was a bit chaotic but Wuzzy became the darling of the baggage claim area - in other words, as he was barking and barking, and all of the onlookers saw his name on the kennel and were yelling 'Wuzzy! It's OK!' and 'Oh, let him out! I want to pet him!' and 'OMG! Is that a dog?'

k.) I've talked a lot about Wuzzy, but that's only because I was mostly worried about him. He's fine. Happy. And he's fallen in love with air conditioning. He's been doing this amazing imitation of a Persian rug....

l. ) Sjaantje is always the best traveller. Grabs those suitcases off the baggage claim belt, handles the trolley, etc. Kick ass chick.

m.) The flight was good (A380 = wow), especially after I was eventually able to communicate to the senile Kenyan woman that she was sitting in my seat.

n.) Henk is in Holland at his dear cousin Betty's house, and will leave Tuesday. We'll see him Tuesday night.

That's all of my news! So far we still have the same email address.

I hope you are enjoying some sunshine for a change!

Big kiss to you all.

Wend