Dokkum

Tonight we moored the boats in Dokkum, a lovely little town that is my favorite place we've stopped thus far. It's full of charming cobblestone streets, cozy little shops and cafés, and has the unfortunate distinction of being the place where the Roman Catholic bishop Boniface was martyred in 754. He had hoped to convert the Frisians and did succeed in baptizing some. But when he entered Dokkum, he was met by a group of armed men who thought he had valuables with him, and you can guess how the story goes from there. I know that, historically, some of the church's methods of conversion have been controversial, to say the least. But nonetheless, I feel bad for the old bishop.

Dear Saint Boniface,
on behalf of my pagan
ancestors I do
sincerely apologize.

The Language of Love

Today we met up with the Greydanus clan (my mom's family) in Sneek to board our chartered boats and begin our canal cruise through Friesland.

Before starting our trip, I went to a grocery store in town with my Uncle Arjen, Aunt Maja, and my mom, to stock up on provisions. I felt very far from home until I got into the supermarket and started to see so many of the things I grew up eating at my grandparents' house. Food was the language of love there, and encountering all of these wonderful Dutch foods again brought me back to my childhood and put a lump in my throat.



I push my cart through
the aisles of Super De Boer,
throwing into it
things that taste like my childhood--

Roggebrood: dense, moist,
and heavy as a little
rye brick. Gouda with
caraway seeds and without.
Krentenbollen--or
raisin buns--on which to put
the cheese. Currant jam.
Fresh bread. Butter. Almond cakes.
A guilty pleasure
I can't resist: a package
of tiny, Twinkie-
shaped sweets wrapped in marzipan.
And best of all, dark
chocolate hagelslag, which
Grandpa would sprinkle
on buttered bread and present--
with a flourish and
hearty "Ja!"--on a blue
and white china plate.








Brilliant Oranje!


Today was quite possibly one of the best days our family has ever had together! It's definitely in the top ten, at least.

We arrived in Amsterdam very early this morning and traipsed all around the city, kind of dead on our feet, until our hotel room was ready. We visited the Anne Frank Huis, which David and I had never done before; every time we've tried in the past, we gave up, because the lines were discouragingly long. It was very moving. The boys looked carefully at everything in the exhibit and I could tell they were thinking hard about what they were seeing.

Later we were able to get into our hotel room for a quick nap, and then it was time for the Netherlands vs. Brazil World Cup quarterfinal. We dressed in all our Oranje gear and joined the thousands of Dutch fans on Museumplein to watch the game on huge TV screens. It was such a hot day that we had completely wilted by halftime, and scooted back to our hotel to watch the second half in the Pulitzer Bar. When the Dutch won, the whole bar went crazy and we hugged everyone, including our new friends, an older couple from Rotterdam who were celebrating their anniversary.

red-eyed and jet-lagged
revived by pannekoeken
Oranje triumph!

World War II Memorial

A note to those of you who follow my blog and have been wondering what the heck is going on, and why I haven't posted my daily poems for several weeks:

I experienced technical difficulties while on our family vacation in Europe. I brought my shiny, tiny new laptop and was so excited to use it, but somehow grabbed the wrong power cord so when the battery died I was out of luck. Also, we had less access to wi-fi than we thought we would, and trying to post from my Blackberry was a pain. So I've got several weeks full of scribbling in my notebook, which I'm now trying to decipher and post. My handwriting has become frightenly bad over the years, so this might take awhile. Stay tuned, and thanks for reading.

Below is my poem for the day we spent in Washington, D.C. This was my first time visiting the World War II memorial, which is stately and beautiful. The picture is of one of the structures that honors those who fought in the Pacific.


a graceful, grey stone pavilion


a bronze wreath borne aloft by

eagles, always in flight


heroes, rest in peace

Family Vacation





















Today we flew from LA to Washington, D.C., where we're spending the night before leaving for Europe tomorrow. I thought I would do all kinds of inspired writing on the plane but instead I listened to music and watched one of the in-flight movies, which was "Family Vacation." Vintage Chevy Chase never fails to crack me up. As silly as it is, the movie got me thinking about the way the best family vacations--or the most memorable ones, anyway--have elements of fun and adventure with a little bit of disaster (or narrowly escaped disaster) thrown in. I'm sure this trip will include all of the above.


The family trip:

bonding, bickering, rushing

to catch planes and trains.

Wonder! New sights, sounds and smells.

Inconvenience,

magic. Dehydration (and

sometimes diarrhea). But

mostly love...and the stories.

The List

I'm really looking forward to our family vacation in Europe--we're heading to the Netherlands for a boat trip through Friesland with the Greydanus tribe, and then to San Sebastian, Spain. But preparing for a family trip always feels to me a bit like climbing a mountain (mainly made of laundry). I keep checking things off the list but then adding more--not that I'm complaining!

Dog food, cat food. Bills.
Prescriptions. Clean out the fridge.
The list keeps growing.

The Graduate

Earlier today I attended a brunch in honor of Morea Arthur, the daughter of our good friends Gary and Lisa Arthur. Mo, who just graduated from Laguna Beach High School, has been a much-loved babysitter and math tutor for my boys during the years that we have known her. She is a gifted, lovely young woman and I wish her every good thing as she heads off to college! I took this picture when Mo, with her sisters and dad, performed a few songs on her new sound system, which was a graduation present.

friends gather to toast
Morea: math whiz, songbird,
super-graduate