Smiley Faces

Hello everyone!

As I write this, I'm wishing two things for you: 1.) You're not suffering through 40 C/104 F degree weather with no end or pool in sight and 2.) you had an incredible week. For many things concerning Sjaantje, this was a truly amazing 7 days! Where do I begin...

Oh, I know! School! Forgive me if I sound like a bragging Mom but it cannot be helped. We had to register Sjaantje for school last Wednesday and, at the same time, she needed to take some placement tests i.e. reading/writing in English and Mathematics. The registrar and counselor wanted to see if there were any 'holes' in Sjaantje's education which, they said, is very likely considering the 'French schools'. That comment nearly made me blow a fuse but in the long run, it wasn't necessary because Sjaantje completely rocked. She easily passed both tests - finishing the Mathematics portion in record time (40 problems, 35 minutes) and only missed one question simply because she didn't know the English equivalent of the names of triangles. Ironically, I believe they're the same words in French. The problem was she was trying to think in English and didn't quite make that connection. So thank you, Mr. DeBombourg and L'Ecole de Fourques for the math skills! The reading/writing portion was no problem either and when the testing was finished, the counselor said, and I quote: 'Looks like Emile is going to be ahead of her classmates! And that's great so she can spend this year acclimatizing to schools in the US and practically not even worry about her grades!' Pooh on their attitude about French schools.

OK, so that was the main academic obstacle. But guess what else? You're never going to believe this one...As we walked in and introduced ourselves to the secretary at the school, she immediately honed in on Sjaantje and began asking her questions. SJAANTJE EMILE SPOKE! IN A SCHOOL! Not only to the secretary, but also the counselor, her soon-to-be science teacher, the school nurse and any other random person who asked Sjaantje a question. At first, her answers were single worded but after about 15 minutes of interrogation, Sjaantje even used sentences. In fact, the counselor came out halfway through the math test and said, 'Emile just asked me a question about triangles. She said she was confused about the terms. Did she not learn about triangles in France?' Can you imagine: Sjaantje asked a question! I had to leave to compose myself and let Henk answer that inquiry.

Later, as we were given a tour of the school and Sjaantje was still responding verbally to questions, she grabbed my hand and squeezed it like a vice grip. As if she was saying, 'I'm doing it, Mom! I'm doing it! But I'm exhausted now.' She didn't let go until I opened the car door for her. Go grab a tissue.

Thanks for letting me be a bit sappy for a while. But if your daughter was ten years old and had never spoken a word or even uttered a grunt in a school in Texas, Holland or France - wouldn't you be a bit sappy?! Encroyable.

The school is called Jacob's Well Elementary and was built in August, 2009. Basically a brand new, huge, clean school. Sjaantje was amazed by the gymnasium (with 8 basketball goals, bleachers and shiny floors), the cafeteria (which is bigger than the entire Foyer Rural in Fourques) and the music room (about the size of the Foyer Rural). Also there are 10 computers in each classroom in addition to the Computer Classroom which has 30 computers.

There's only one more thing I'll tell you about the school and/or registration process - besides the fact that Henk and I couldn't remember our new cell phone number and gave an incorrect one. (Duh!) Sjaantje was grossly behind in her inoculations. The school nurse, who kind of resembles the Incredible Hulk minus the green skin, was not pleased. She too had something to say regarding European schools...something like 'Don't they vaccinate the kids over there?' Always subtle Henk responded, 'Not if that disease has been eradicated from the population and therefore the continent. Why? What sort of diseases still linger in Texas that the rest of the world doesn't suffer?' Well, Sjaantje needed about 11 inoculations which included a Tuberculosis test.

Given her history with dentists, I made sure that Henk took her for the shots. The mere sight of a needle getting anywhere close to an arm makes me puke. Especially my daughter's arm. Henk and I had a discussion that went something like this: Henk - 'Oops, I'm going to be in Dallas this weekend.' Me - 'Well I'm going to Mexico and obviously you're going to be closer.'

Here's another one you're not going to believe: Saturday morning Sjaantje Emile suffered through 6 pointy needled shots plus a TB test (which uses a needle to inject some gross germs and then creates a bubble with the aforementioned demon needle) and never even yelled. Sure, a few tears spilled out but she toughed it out and came home with 7 different Bandaids on two stiff arms, one of which was carrying a huge donut which she couldn't quite raise either arm to eat. (Dante?)

I hope the Incredible Hulk will be satisfied when she reads Sjaantje's TB test tomorrow morning. In addition to that, the nurse will be giving hearing and vision tests to Sjaantje. I think that's great! Really the nurse is nice enough, just has quite a few rough edges, is built like a powerhouse and her word decides your child's fate. Henk and I talked about this peculiar attitude and realized that it's probably a good thing for the students as well as the nurse's own sanity. I mean, who likes to deal with whiny kids or worse yet, overprotective and indulgent parents who make excuses and try to rationalize the lack of inoculations? I mean, geez, parents like that...

Oh, the other four shots come later. Two of the given ones are the beginning of a series of 3. Mexico is calling.

This week, Sjaantje wanted to make some money so we decided to put up a lemonade stand. Sounds simple enough, but you try squeezing lemons for 3 hours a day. Sjaantje made cookies and brownies to go with the lemonade in addition to all kinds of signs which, regrettably, I told her was a great idea for publicity. 'Mom, I cannot stand on the side of the road in the blaring heat and hold up the sign if I am the one serving the lemonade! That's your job!' At least I finally had a job and clearly am working on my ozone tan.

But regarding the signs, the first day of the lemonade stand I took Sjaantje and her friend Hannah to some neighbors' - about 100 meters from our house in either direction - to ask if we could hang our posters on their mailboxes. Everyone was thrilled with the idea and promised to stop by for some yummies. Correction, everyone except this one place which is fairly well known as some sort of an inbred commune.

Five houses, 9 vehicles (some rusted with no wheels, some with 2 completely flattened tires and one belonging to the Domino's pizza guy) and many dogs running around - it's a compound for a particularly strange family, bless their hearts. First we approached the house closest to RR 12, knocked on the door and after a few silent seconds, we went on to the next house. At the next house (right across the sidewalk), we waited as an old woman - bless her heart - came to the door. After a 'What?!' followed by 'What?!' and then 'Lemonade? Wheres?!' , I let the girls explain. I couldn't tell if she was looking at the mailbox where we wanted to hang the sign or at the road but eventually the woman said, 'OK.'

At this point I was thinking perhaps she wasn't the big decision maker in this commune, so I opted to ask the guy in the car who was apparently trying to leave. Chivralic him, he stopped when he saw the damsel with the two young girls flagging him down. His response? 'Lady, I dunno. Wouldn't bother me but I just deliver pizza. There's two fellas in there; ask 'em.' Knock, knock on the flapping screen door. 'WHAT!' came the response. Little Hannah, who has a way with words - mostly using a lot of them at once - bumfuzzled him enough until he said, 'Oh. Go ask Uncle Jed.' Uncle Jed said, 'Axe Junior.' Junior said, 'Wha's Mama say?', at which point I explained (assuming Mama was the older lady at the beginning) that Mama said it was fine and wanted to know where the lemonade stand would be. Junior then creased his brow and looked off into the distance, like he was channeling some Confederate soldier scout or something. Then 'You wants to put it on the mailbox? That's across the street. Need to talk to 'em.' Keeping my exasperation in check, I explained that they, too, had a mailbox. 'It's right in front of your complex. On the side of the road.' I couldn't even describe the look he gave me. Then came the yell: 'MAMA! Wha's you think about Lemonade?' Followed by What, What, What, Lemonade, OK, What, OK, Girls, Mailbox, Where's? Eventually, Junior said it was 'alright'. I definitely sent Henk to hang the sign on the phantom mailbox.

The lemonade stand was quite successful and different. So much so that the newspaper reporter caught wind of Sjaantje's endeavors and stopped by for a quick beverage and cookie. Sjaantje was featured on the front page of the paper along with Hannah and The Wuz. Cuteness!

There were many interesting things that happened in regards to the lemonade stand. Such as: 1.) Husband of a pregnant women buying a dozen cookies and/or brownies for the mother of his future child; 2.) Same guy came back the next day; 3.) And again the third day bringing his pregnant wife who, I swear, was a Sinead O'Connor look alike; 4.) Caregivers for seniors making the golden oldies walk from the car to the lemonade stand - for exercise; 5.) Sjaantje labeled her cookies and brownies for sale at the low price of 25 Euros - she didn't yet know the sign for American cents; and 6.) 'Mom! Somebody cheated!' - That's what Sjaantje said when she counted her boon from the sales. Someone had slipped in a few Mexican Pesos. Doesn't bother me though - Mexico is calling.

Gros Bisous! And a special gros bisou to Mr. DeBombourg and all the teachers and staff at L'Ecole de Fourques. Thanks for all you did for Emile. We're proud to have been at your school.

Wend

Things I recently learned, had forgotten or just astound me

Hello dear friends!

Though I haven't written lately, you have been in our daily thoughts. It's been a rather bizarre 3 weeks! Some good things, some not so good and many just plain weird things have happened...

1. Dallas

We finally went to Dallas last week and stayed in the cottage at Bonnie and Jeremy's. That trip was something that we couldn't possibly have done without OUR car. My Mother had surgery which was the catalyst for us going, as Henk and I wanted to be there for my Mom and Dad. Also to talk to the doctor. All is good on the surgery front; Mom is healing nicely, at home as of Monday.

While we were in Dallas, Wuzzy got a job in Wimberley! He is the pseudo-official greeter for the travel office. It's kind of funny because they never even asked for a resume, references, sperm count, hip ex-ray, education, etc... What a guy. He has such a way with people.

Quick paragraph: Sushi, Uncle Julio's Carne Asada, Scallini's pizza, Thai cuisine. Dallas is quite talented in the ways of restaurants, although unfortunately none of them had Lime Pickle on hand. Nevertheless, we pigged out.

2. Sun

'EW, Mom! Your ankles actually glow in the dark!' Hoping that was a bit of an exaggeration and just before I went into the darkened bathroom at midnight to check, it occurred to me that I haven't even been in the sun this summer. Contrary to popular belief, I think it's unhealthy to avoid the sun, which is a sort of backhanded double negative. Hello Vitamin D, or E or whatever. At my tender young age of 41 years, I tend to look a bit sickly with no blush on the cheeks, lacking burn on the shoulders and no tan whatsoever on the legs. So God bless Bonnie, Jeremy and their swimming pool. I think I've now rejoined the living.

Funny thing though - something I had forgotten - the sun in Texas (Dallas anyway) is different from that in Fourques. Well, OK, it IS the same sun but there are extreme differences in how you tan. In France or Spain, one hour of sun exposure left all of us with a nice caramel tan with no burn whatsoever. In Dallas, I spent 3 hours trying to dispel my neon-ness but found no obvious results until the next morning when I looked like a ripe tomato. I'm thinking it might be some sort of an Ozone thing. I've yet to try sunning in Wimberley - it might actually be like France but, with no cooling apparatus like a pool, I'm hesitant to try. Enough of the vanity issues.

3. Smoking Pork

Henko spent 72 hours smoking some pork tenderloin. (I know, 'from which end?' Ha ha.) It was a supposed 'cold smoke' where the temperature cannot exceed 95 degrees but, when the outside temperature was 102 at 11:00 am and, yes, the smoker stays outside, this experiment was quite challenging. Handy Henk strikes again - this time inventing the world's largest bong whose only use is to omit smoke directly into the smoker. Do you know those Mexican clay chimineas? Sort of a pot bellied amphora with a two foot high stack, on which Henk placed a generic terra cotta planter with a one inch diameter clear plastic hose stuck in the planter hole. (Another gem of a sentence.) The smoke goes through this tube whose other end is then inserted into the smoker. Using bong smoke, ambient heat plus a tiny 2" by 1" piece of mesquite wood (fired by my creme brulee torch of course) we have some wonderful jerky. The initial idea was not for jerky but rather soft, succulent and moist smoked pork. But we are not displeased with the results. Makes me want to grab a horse, fill a canteen with warm well water and chomp on a jerky as I ride with my Cherokee Indian scout to the next town.

4. Arrowheads

Speaking of Cherokee Indians, we just met a man - another David - who has a collection of about 15,000 arrowheads, all of which he found here in Wimberley. Henk asked this new David, 'Where did you get all of these?!' 'Here.' 'What do you mean? Wimberley? or Texas?' Thinking Henk was going to usurp his territory, David responded, 'Just here and there.' I said in the first sentence that the arrowheads were from Wimberley, and although you'd never learn that from David, I have my sources...To arrowhead hunt, the protocol is to dress up in fatigues, grease your face and at 2:00 in the morning, combat crawl onto private property and dig. And this is what new David does for his evening entertainment.

Apparently it is a substantially profitable sort of entrepreneurial enterprise. People from Europe, Russia and China regularly buy arrowheads by the crate from David.

5. another guy named David

I have to say that it was an interesting half of an evening we spent with David, the arrowhead guy who carries with him, for some unknown reason, a Ziploc bag containing two shot glasses (one with the now familiar orange and black Harley Davidson logo, the other from 'David's Pub') and two ceiling hooks (from which you hang a bike in a garage). Not going to even address the adorning pin he wore on his shirt - like those promoting things like 'Vote for Change! Obama!' - only this one had a phrase on it that I remember well from the 7th grade...something about 'stoned' and 'stupid' which I assume had to do with the arrowheads. David does have a gorgeous African Gray parrot who, when she visited, promptly pooped on Henk's back. In addition to those peculiarities, David took Henk to a Karaoke (sp?) bar and then poof! Disappeared, just when the crowd wanted Henk to sing a Tina Turner song with the parrot on his shoulder. Boy, I bet that was fun.

6. Market Days

Every first Saturday of the month, Wimberley hosts a large open market and today Henk and I went for the first time. We'd been told 'Wimberley Market Days' is exactly like going to the market in Ceret. Briefly believing that, we kept our eyes open for Ted, Jill, Davey, Ross, Peggy, Marie-Claire and Ralph but to no avail! The market is huge - actually about 3 times the size of the Ceret one. After meandering around in 100 plus degree weather for a couple of hours, we came home empty handed, sweaty and confused. Venders were selling things like rusted garden 'bling' (which is apparently a word to describe an accessory, be it for the body, car or garden, which at one point in it's life resembled something in the metal family and is more often than not combined with shiny plastic beads), old license plates for $5.00 (if I'd known that, I wouldn't have just spent $85.00 on our new ones) plus BBQ, 'Moonshine Iced Tea' and popcorn. There was a 20 gallon glass carboy (that's what Henk called it; it's basically just a huge glass jar used for storing water) which was interesting. In fact, the most interesting thing was the price: $250. 'What!?' Henk exclamed. The vender then pointed out the obvious to us: the jar was full of buttons and the buttons were very expensive. Henk's 'You're kidding, right?' was followed by a snort from the vender. 'I don't want the buttons. Can't you put them in something else? I just want the jar.' That oft repeated phrase shot out once again...Where'r you from, boy?

A few miles later, we found option #2. A 65 gallon plastic water storing barrel! WHOA! Henk really wanted that one but, after I pointed out that we would need a new, ginormous walk-in frigo to store it, we just decided to leave the market.

7. Henk's hair

Do you remember our Van Gogh sketch? Well, Henk wanted to change the color of the matting from ochre to burgundy. Disect the framing, take the matting outside and spray paint it (because real paint would most likely have curled the matting. But why couldn't we just have bought a new matting?) and wear a mask to avoid the fumes of the spray paint. Success! Until 3:00 in the morning when Henk woke me up and asked, 'Is my hair PINK?!!!' Yes, it was. Like getting the flu virus through sneezing, Henko's hair had absorbed the burgundy spray paint spittle. I accidentally- on-purpose waited a couple of days before I used fingernail polish remover to get rid of the pink. I thought it was hilarious! Especially when I remembered my neon orange hair catastrophy - per Henk's advice about lightening my hair. Meany me.

8. Sjaantje's cooking

When we returned from the market today, Sjaantje announced she was inventing a new cookie recipe! I do so love it when she wants to be creative in the kitchen. 'How much butter did you use?' 'One stick.' One stick turned out to be one pound of butter - 500 grams or so - because we buy butter in large blocks which in Sjaantje's mind was one stick. With a little rescue service, she actually created a wonderful crisp yet for some strange reason buttery cookie! Decorated with colorful fish shaped sugars, of course. She's braver than I, creating a baking recipe. And it's impossible to get angry with her when she does create.

I guess that's all of my news. I hope you're all enjoying the last summer month. Love to you all - still missing you!

Bisous -

Wend