Plot Twist

In his 1964 Nobel Lecture, Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. said "We have allowed the means by which we live to outdistance the ends for which we live."

When I first read these words, back in 2001, it was relatively easy for me to accept this idea.  I was just starting out and had very little means to begin with, so sacrificing them in favor of spiritual matters such as art, literature and religion didn't seem such a sacrifice. The idea became my motto.  My husband and I decided that we would rather do than have. And we were pretty good at that, for a while.  Then we had children.  And walked loved ones through health crises. And moved around.  A lot. And slowly, some of our means became pretty important.  Not the tables or the lamps.  We don't own anything that we would be devastated to have kids ruin.  (Lord knows we have plenty of practice on that one.) But there is a certain type of security that my fingers grow tightly wrapped around, and that is home. 

The more we move, the more tightly I hold onto the idea of home and the people we fill it with.  I love the moments we share together in that sacred space, the moments when the shoes come off and the walls come down and we become more than people doing whatever it is we're supposed to be doing and become honest about ourselves and walk with each other through all the beautiful mess made of our hopes and fears. The space where we share giggles and tears.  The kitchen we dance in.  The sweet light of bedside lamps where the burdens of the day is laid to rest along with heavy eyed children. The garden filled with favorite climbing trees and secret forts and piles of collected pinecones.  All of these things are precious to me, and somehow I keep confusing the place for the love we share in it. 

And that is why our recent plot twist has been so hard for me to accept.  We have loved our little life in the Dutch Countryside.  We adore the ponies and goats and cows and bunnies that surround us.  Not to mention the friends we've made, who have offered us understanding and humor and gentleness in the midst of all of our adjustments (and any of you who have done the expat thing understand how many these are.) 

And now I have another chance to hear this quote and be reminded that the ends we're shooting for, for ourselves and our children, is faith. Faith that we can make the next set of adjustments.  Faith that we're needed where we're going.  Faith that we don't go alone. And that, my friends, is why we've accepted a transfer to England. We will spend the next month and a half wrapping up our beautiful life in the Netherlands and preparing for our next big adventure. 

The Ponies

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With this wiley bunch visible out the kitchen window I hardly need YouTube cat videos for amusement.  The horses are separated into three different groups, with this particular group of six horses containing both of the foals from last spring (Spike and Sebastian) along with their adopted brother (Denzel) who is also under a year old.  Add the very curious 3 year-old Sarah Sophia to the mix and 5 o'clock gets a little crazy, people. But these guys love their feed, and I have no doubt when the owners come by because they all instantly disappear into their stables.  Go by for an early morning photoshoot and you had better not go empty-handed.  These guys were searching my pockets the entire time I tried to snatch pictures of them. 

Their winter coats are beginning to shed and we'll soon see again how different their markings are in summer. 

Waning of Winter in Photos



The little lane that runs down past the neighbors vegetable garden to the stables awash in a misty sunrise glow

 

The covered walk between our house and the stables will soon be draped with blooming wisteria



The neighbor's vegetable garden and horses across the frosty field

Ice on the pond

Christmas on the Farm - in photos

Our First Christmas Abroad

 

A funny thing happens when living abroad for the first time, especially when you come from a relatively geographically isolated nation (like the United States) to Europe : you are faced with the absurdly beautiful quandary of whether you will live your days in this new country trying to travel and take in all the sights and sounds you can, or whether to invest your time experiencing the customs and culture of the location in which you live.  Obviously, the results of such a decision fall somewhere on a scale from constant travel to all-out homebody, but for our little family the balance has fallen more or less somewhere in the second category.  We really like the Dutch and what we've tasted so far of their culture, and that is a big part of why we chose to spend our first Christmas in Europe in our own little village, on the farm.

The Customs:

Sinterklaas:
If you've ever taken for granted the celebration of Santa Claus with the birth of Christ (the origin of our Christmas tradition, if you've forgotten) then perhaps a little history on the celebration of Saint Nicholas (or Sinterklaas, as he's lovingly known in the Netherlands) will help to fill in some of the gaps.


The celebration of Sinterklaas's birthday begins sometime on a Saturday in mid-November, when Sint is believed to make a journey on a steamship from Spain (where the original Saint was believed to have lived.)  With the help of a televised "news story" about his journey, children across the country watch as he and his helpers, the controversial* Piets, arrive in port in Holland with his white horse, Amerigo, whom he rides throughout the country making stops to visit schools and public appearances.  Before bed each night between his arrival in Holland and December 5th, children leave their wooden shoes by the fire for Sint or his Piets to fill will treats such as chocolate, speculaas or pepernoten (pa-per-note-a.)


The exact coarse of events on December 5th vary from house to house just as the method of Santa's deliveries do in the States, but commonly enough a knock will occur at the door sometime in the evening, and excited children will run to find a mess of gifts on the ground outside.  In our house, Sint waited till we were all tucked in before riding his horse on the roof and delivering the gifts inside the house to be opened on the morning of the 6th.

A real beauty of the Sinterklaas celebration is that it provides a concrete line between this tradition and Christmas, which is traditionally a simple day characterized by a meal with family and a trip to mass or church.  In fact, Christmas decorations do not go up until after the 6th and come down sometime after epiphany on January 6th.

(*The Piets are a very beloved part of the Dutch Sinterklaas narrative, though they have been at the heart of a nationwide debate over the racial fairness of their portrayal and the history of their story.)




The church in our tiny village



A small chapel in the market of our larger local village

Epiphany:

Many Americans are unaware that the song "The Twelve Days of Christmas" describe a tradition which is still widely celebrated across Europe.  The twelve days are referring to the days between the birth of Christ and the celebration of the arrival of the Magi, or wise men, to see the newborn King.  This day is called Epiphany, and it takes place on January 6th.  In France, a special cake is served, called the Galette des Rois, or King's Cake.  In parts of Germany and the Netherlands, children dressed as kings visit door-to-door soliciting money for a charitable cause, then perform a blessing for the house or make a mark above the doorway of the home with chalk. 

During this advent season, our local villages hosted Kerst stalls, or nativity scenes with live animals in the mangers. We visited these eagerly and often, and were met with at least as much eagerness on the part of the donkey. Someone must have been sneaking that guy some carrots.