White Lies

I think I've accidentally killed the tarragon. All of the other herbs Sjaantje/Emile planted are sprouting and seemingly enjoying life, but not the tarragon. Nope. No sign of life there. Perhaps I have some stronger than normal mind powers because - although I never said it aloud to the seeds - I really didn't want a pot of tarragon on my patio. I'm pretty sure I mentally equate this distaste for the noble herb with one particular dinner...Years ago, Henk cooked tenderloin of horse for me, drizzled with a bearnaise sauce. So not wanting to be narrow minded about trying a new taste, I dutifully ate my dinner. A few hours later when I was well, you know, ill, I blamed it on the tarragon in the bearnaise sauce. And since then, the thought of tarragon gives me the heaves. Poor tarragon plant. I didn't really mean him any harm.

It's a very good thing that Sjaantje wasn't yet born when we had the horse filet. She probably would have gone postal on us. Fearing that is exactly why I refused to tell her what we had for dinner Sunday night. We were invited to Dalana and Dean's because Dean wanted to treat us to deep fried venison - which is his culinary specialty. Since the pieces of venison were battered and fried, it seemed more like chicken fried steak, which is precisely what we told Sjaantje we were eating. I found it quite delicious and Sjaante absolutely loved it, no doubt because she didn't know it was deer. The extra bonus is it wasn't slathered with bearnaise sauce. In the past, I've tried some venison sausage given to me by a client plus some venison chops, courtesy of Central Market. It never bothered me. But Sunday when we came home from a separate afternoon fest and pulled into our driveway, there were three deer in our front yard plus a mom and fawn on the other side of our wall, munching away on the grass. Then on the way to Dalana's, we had to stop the car for a family of 6 deer to cross the road - complete with a tiny little polka-dotted baby. How could I have possibly told Sjaantje we were eating deer?! I ask you, what would you have done? White lies. I know it's going to come back around at some point and I'm seriously not looking forward to that.

Where do I segue next: horses or stay on the food subject? I'll go with horses:

Sjaantje started horseback riding lessons last Tuesday! To say she is thrilled is an understatement. For the first time, Sjaantje rode a Thoroughbred stallion! His name is Oliver and, if I know my horse measurement terminology, I would say he's about 10 hands. (I'm just making up that measurement thing. I have no idea, but Oliver was huge, strong, chestnut brown, gorgeous and quite people friendly. The biggest horse Sjaantje has ever ridden.) There were no Thoroughbreds at the Equestrian center in Fourques/Montauriol so riding Oliver was a boon for Sjaantje. Her teacher is a young woman named Rachael who wholeheartedly exudes delightfulness and professionalism. All rolled into one neat package. At the Rocky River Ranch, as the equestrian center is called, there is even a horse named 'Hank' which Sjaantje wants to ride the next time.

Still on horses, Sunday night at Dalana and Dean's, Sjaantje rode one of their horses bareback - as in no saddle, not even a bridle but just a rope lightly tied around the horses head. Also her first time for that! She didn't like it... so put on the saddle and then another hour or so around the pasture. Yes, while I sat with Dalana on the porch, both of us in rocking chairs watching. At this rate I'll soon be knitting and chewing tobacco.

Did you watch the World Cup finals?!! Holland vs. Spain. Lot of history with that match-up. Look up the Feast of Leiden - when Spain was occupying/attacking Holland in the 15th century. It's an interesting story, especially the food part. Anyway, we watched the game at David's river house and at the same time, enjoyed BBQ'ed brisket, corn on the cob, swimming, canoeing, etc... Not the best soccer/futbol game I've ever watched. But did you notice how mannerly the Dutch players were? For example, the Dutch corner kick in the second half. There was a Spanish player down and although no whistle was blown, the Dutch kicker just lightly tapped the ball to the Spanish goalie and at the same time, no Dutch players raced into the goal box. Giving time for the Spaniard to get up and join the melee. Nice. Too bad the Dutch lost. The nice guy always finishes last.

On Saturday night, we had (yes) a dinner party - this time for some dear family on Henk's side. Henk and my brother-in-law Dave (or is it mine and Henk's brother-in-law?) came down from Austin along with Dave's new lady-friend, Carmen. Also Monique and Greg (my 42 year old niece and her husband!) and their two sons, who are Sjaantje's second cousins and about her same age. You probably remember that Henk's sister passed away two years ago after a battle with leukemia. This was our first time to meet Carmen. Beautiful and very sweet woman! I won't belabor you with the fine points of our dinner. I only want to say that Sjaantje had a great time with her cousins! Grant and Seth are lovely boys and 10 year old Grant is exactly my heighth.

I've been kind of mild in this post, God forbid possibly boring, especially since some people have told me that I don't sound happy when I write. Well, hmmm. Am I?

After doing some of the paper work for the breeding of the Wuz and subsequently having some questions, I wrote to the prospective breeders. In response I received a scathing email which answered exactly none of my questions but did explain that breeding Wuzzy was a 'risk and loss' for them but they were willing to do it because Wuzzy is from good genes and they welcomed a new line into their's. (Loss? They're not even paying a 'Stud Fee'.) Furthermore, if Wuzzy would have been an AKC champion then the breeding is a shoe-in, but since he isn't an AKC champion then all of the rules change. Jeez, I was just asking some questions. Side note, these breeders routinely ship their bitches to northern Germany and/or Holland to breed. Are these European dogs AKC champions? No, not possible considering that AKC means American Kennel Club. Wuzzy comes from Dutch Champions, Northern European dog royalty, notable breeder, Best of Show, Best in Breed, etc... Since we are total greenhorns regarding breeding, I have the feeling we're being yanked around on this one. And yes, that makes me not happy. Does anyone have a female Newfy or know one who wants to make some puppies? It might be easier, less strenuous and much more fulfilling for the Wuz. We'll provide the bubbly water, roses and whatever just to get a puppy from Wuzzy's loins.

Late yesterday morning, Henk and David were replacing the wood on the upstairs balcony. Suddenly I heard David say, 'Wend, open the door, there's a guy coming up that I need to talk to.' I was in the kitchen making some fried rice and so I obliged. Opening the door to Santa Claus's evil twin, I said, 'Hi, come on in. And you are..?' No response as he shuffles through my kitchen. 'Oh. I see. Well. David's upstairs with Henk, on the balcony.' No response. I look outside and there's another one of those old Buick things, this one baby blue, but the same morphology as the one last weekend. Short story is Santa II needs a 1099 tax form for 4 hours of work he did for David last year - probably turning over the compost. So they did their thing upstairs and then Santa II descended into the depths of Wendelyn hell. Santa has the audacity to walk through MY kitchen again with not a word, acknowledgement or anything other than the odors coming off of him. I sharply said, 'HELLO! Who ARE you?' This did make Santa turn around and, with another one of those blank looks on his face, he grunted. Silly me, I didn't have my latex gloves on because as I said, I was making some fried rice, but nevertheless I stuck out my hand for at least an acknowledgement. 'Tom. Drinkin' buddy.' he said. With no hiding my disgust, I replied, 'Not mine. I'm Wendelyn. I live here. And you just walked through into my house without saying anything.' Grunt. Leave. Where do these people come from? And more importantly, why are they in my house?