Last Friday was “Christmas Jumper” day at Hannah’s school.
(A jumper is British for a sweater.)
The local newspaper showed up to cover the story and I would’ve missed it had it not been for a comment on the Instagram photo I posted of her in her Christmas jumper.
And there she is on the bottom left.
“Hey Mom. Can you believe that I’ve been on the telly and in the newspaper in Luxembourg? People in America are gonna fall to pieces when they hear about this.”
Sunday we went to the Fête aux Pommes, apple festival in a cute little town called Steinsel.
I mean, what better way to spend a Sunday afternoon in the fall?
Although in Europe, you must call it autumn, because no one knows what you’re talking about when you call it fall.
Anyway, the orchard sits way high on a hill and has over 25,000 apple trees in lots of varieties and you bring your own bags and fill ‘em to your heart’s content. All while sipping on Viz, which is the Luxembourgish word for a fermented apple cider.
We went with two other families – our group included six adults, five children (all nearly six years old) and one baby. It’s possible that we were the loudest and rowdiest apple pickers there.
Last year at the Fête aux Pommes I was pregnant with Finley and, well, I just couldn’t with the Viz.
This year I actually drank some and I understand now what all the fuss is about. It’s good stuff.
And after careful inspection of the Viz-making-hand-crank-machine, the process didn’t alarm me as it did last year.
“There’s definitely a filter of some sort, but it doesn’t appear to be a man’s t-shirt,” my friend told me.
Only she didn’t say man’s t-shirt, she said man’s vest, because she’s British and that’s what they call them.
We also didn’t see anyone pick up the sopping wet vest off of the ground, wring it out with his bare hands and return it to the Viz-making-hand-crank-machine.
(I’m telling myself that the buckets collecting the Viz were thoroughly washed, sanitized and perhaps even cycled through an autoclave before being used to catch the juice.)
We left with 6.1 kilos of apples. That’s over 13 pounds.
Not to worry; none of these beauties will go to waste.
I’ve got plans for apple sauce, apple pies and lots of apple puree for Finley.
Europeans sure love their festivals and since we’ve lived here, we’ve come to love them as well.
Next weekend? One of the most anticipated fêtes of all: The Vianden Nut Festival.
I’m not kidding.
It’s always a cracking good time.
(Sorry.)
I hope you had a fantastic 4th of July.
We sure did. In fact, we kept right on celebrating the whole weekend through.
Friday night we went to a barbeque at the US Marine House here in Luxembourg. The American Women’s Club (of which I am a member) hosted a party in honor of America’s birthday.
We ate REAL American food and Hannah played with the other kids. I didn’t take one picture at the event, sadly. Mostly because I was busy with ALL THE AMERICAN FOOD. But since we were wearing sort of coordinating outfits and I’ve wanted a photo on our front porch for ages, we took one before we left.
On Saturday we had a little party/barbeque at our house with some of our friends and their kids. I’ve mentioned before that one of the things I really try to do is make a big deal about holidays and traditions that we miss because we live abroad. The 4th of July and Thanksgiving obviously aren’t celebrated here and these holidays are special to me and I don’t ever want my kids to not fully appreciate or understand them simply because of where we live. So we invited some friends, threw some steaks and chicken on the grill and laughed that Shawn, Hannah, Finley and I were the only Americans at our 4th of July party.
I mean, just because they’re British doesn’t mean they can’t celebrate the 4th of July with us.
Even if it was July 6th.
On Sunday, the weather was spectacular so we got into our swimming costumes and headed to one of the local outdoor pools.
We brought our own lifeguard with us.
Even though he went to sleep on the job.
As we parked the car, Shawn had a moment of slight panic as he often does before we go to a pool that we’ve not yet been. It stems from his (totally legitimate) fear of THE SPEEDO. Many (or most?) public pools in Europe don’t allow board style shorts for men. At the entrance there are signs showing the type of swimming costumes that are acceptable, mainly THE SPEEDO and its cousin, the spandex biking short. Fortunately when we walked in we saw a few men wearing his style of swim trunks and we knew we were in business.
During the winter term this year, Hannah’s class took swimming lessons during the school day. Also, at the end of my pregnancy and the first few weeks after Finley’s birth, Shawn and Hannah spent a lot of time at the indoor pools. If there’s nothing else to do in Luxembourg, there are plenty of pools, and most of them are really lovely. Anyway, I hadn’t realized how much her swimming has improved in the last few months until I saw her in the pool yesterday. She’s quite capable in the water.
I had to do massive amounts of cropping of my pictures, and I can’t even bring myself to post most of them because SPEEDO. They just kept creeping into the background of my pictures.
We met up with some friends who couldn’t make it to the party Saturday and the girls swam, splashed and ate a ton of watermelon. This is one of Hannah’s best friends in Luxembourg. Shawn and I have become good friends with her parents as well.
We made it home around dinner time, took showers and I think Hannah was asleep before I even turned her light out.
We’re down to the last nine days of school before the summer break and Shawn and I spent some time last night planning our vacation. We’ve got some reservations made and are finishing up the details.
We’re about to give the Griswalds a run for their money.
This post is going to be a quick one. Shawn was traveling for work last week and was in Berlin this week and I have found myself completely sucked in and absorbed by Scandal on Netflix and Hulu.
(The first season is on Netflix and the second on Hulu.)
I’m about nine episodes in to season 2 and it is so good. So good.
It’s my new Downton Abbey, I think. Except it makes me want to turn on C-SPAN and get really informed. And one of the characters totally reminds me of my college roommate, who also happens to be a lawyer, although she could never be involved in a scandal because she’s America’s sweetheart.
(You know who you are.)
Anyway, on to the updates:
I am so, so proud of this girl. Yesterday she came home from school with an award for her accomplishments in Literacy. (That’s British for Readin’ n’ Writin’.)
So we celebrated with an ice lolly. (That’s British for popsicle.)
I’ve mentioned and posted pictures of Finley in the Over the Shoulder Baby Holder, but last week I saw another mom at Hannah’s school wearing her baby in a wrap style of baby carrier and I started to get interested so I did some very empirical and methodical research, mind you, at the school yard and on Pinterest and then bought one. It’s called the Tricot-Slen, which I think is the European equivalent of the Moby Wrap. It’s about 35 feet (I’m being dramatic) of stretchy fabric and it’s taken me some practice and watching instructional videos on YouTube to get it right. And I still don’t have it right.
This is my first attempt. I’m fully aware that it looks like I simply took the sheets off the bed and wrapped them around the two of us, but I had to include this picture because THOSE LITTLE FEET. Look at his little feet hanging out the bottom. I die.
I sent the picture to Shawn and he asked if I had also purchased a flowing skirt and Birkenstocks.
Anyway, I used the Tricot-Slen later that day when I picked Hannah up from school and one of the French moms pointed out that I was doing some things wrong and could I let her help me.
She took Finn out and started turning, wrapping and draping me much like she was measuring and fitting me for a very fancy formal dress. But when she got us all situated it was the most comfortable thing ever.
I haven’t been able to recreate her technique but we’re working on it.
That’s code for I’m Gonna Need That French Babywearing Mama To Come To My House And Wrap Me and Finley Up Everyday.
Ok. That’s it for tonight. I’m off to watch the next episode of Scandal before Shawn gets home.
But before I go, here’s one for the grandparents.
Both kids before bed tonight - Hannah was pleased to look at the camera and smile.
But Finley? He’s found his hands and I guess they’re more interesting than his mama.
Ok. That’s it for tonight and I mean it this time.
Goodnight, friends.
I know I’ve said this before, but one of the things that Shawn and I committed to when we decided to take his company’s offer to live abroad was to travel.
So a few weeks ago we loaded up Shawn’s shiny new car top luggage rack and went to London. I think that for Americans, the UK is the closest feeling to home that you can find in Europe. (That’s just my opinion. But, hello! Chipotle!)
We left Luxembourg and drove about 4 hours through Belgium to the costal town of Calais, France. We stayed at a hotel for the night and the next morning drove our car to the Euro Tunnel, or the “Chunnel.”
We showed our passports and were queued up in a manner of detail and organization of which I have never experienced in Europe.
Then Shawn drove us onto the train and after a few safety instructions we were traveling underwater, through the English Channel, in the comfort of our own car. Complete with his shiny new car top luggage rack.
Hanging out in the backseat.
Underneath the English Channel.
35 minutes later, we were exited onto the streets of the UK. People ask us all the time about driving in Europe. In Luxembourg, we drive on the right hand side of the road – just like in the US. This was our first time driving UK Style – on the left. Shawn was a champ as he maneuvered his first British round about and got us to the train station safely.
Stay to the left.
STAY TO THE LEFT!
From there, we boarded our train and an hour later we were in London.
Shawn’s been here many times, I’ve been twice, but this was Hannah’s first time.
As our train rolled into the station, and we passed The Houses of Parliament and Big Ben, Hannah pointed them out to me.
”But Mom, Big Ben isn’t the name of the clock. It’s the name of the bell that’s inside the tower.” Impressive, kid.
She loved the red “phone boxes.”
And riding in the little pod on The London Eye.
Besides the accent, (and Big Ben knowledge) one of the things that Hannah has picked up at school are some British sounding phrases and sayings. One of them is “bits and bobs,” and she refers to many things as “bits.” I thought this was slang, perhaps, but look what we found – OJ without pulp, or, no bits.
Half way through the trip, we had sort of an unimaginable situation that left the three of us shaken. I guess that sometimes life forces you to deal with people who have a bigger temper than capacity for sensibility and class.
It was exhausting and unsettling and all I wanted to do was just be with these two:
So the three (or four!) of us pressed on and had a grand time in this grand city.
We took Hannah to The West End to see her very first live stage production – The Lion King.
Girlfriend LOVED it. She was intrigued by the set, the costumes and the orchestra pit. When I was in college, I worked backstage in the costume shop of the school’s theater. That’s where my love of musical theater started, and also where I learned much of what I know about sewing. Oh, how excited it makes me that the theater interest was sparked in my little girl.
Before our long weekend was over, we took a walk through the park to Buckingham Palace. Hannah’s seen her fair share of European palaces and castles but she was particularly excited about this one because we told her that the Queen actually lives here for part of the year.
And then we showed her a postcard with her picture.
”Wait. That’s the Queen? Where’s her gown? And her high heels?”
(Sorry, your Majesty.)
So I showed her a postcard of Will and Kate on their wedding day, in the horse drawn carriage. And all was right with her world again.
We headed ‘round back the palace and saw all the horse drawn carriages, grabbed lunch and headed back to Luxembourg just the way we came.
So here we are. Fall’s changing leaves and cool temps are here and I’m loving it. Fall is my favorite time of year and our neighborhood is well wooded and particularly scenic right now.
As I may have mentioned before, there are no shortages of festivals in Luxembourg, so last weekend we went to the Fêtes aux Pommes, Apple Festival in a nearby town.
There were apples ‘o plenty, as one would expect, along with beer, hot wine and sausage.
Because it wouldn’t be a European festival without beer, hot wine and sausage.
I didn’t take my camera with me, but I wish I had. Instead, I’ll just describe what I saw and you can imagine your own pictures in your mind.
Here goes:
They make Viz, which I learned is the Luxembourgish word for an apple juice/cider by pressing the apples in these huge, old school machines that crank manually and collect the liquid into buckets similar to what Shawn uses to wash our cars. From there, they filter the juice through what appeared to be a man’s t-shirt. Or maybe it was a piece of burlap. I’m not quite sure. Then the man operating the old school crank machine wrung out the filter/t-shirt/burlap with his bare hands and returned it to the machine for the next batch. The pressed, filtered-by-a-t-shirt-or-maybe-it-was-a-piece-of-burlap-juice was then poured into bottles, sealed with a cork and ready to be sold.
And of course my husband bought one.
Having worked for eight years for a company that makes hand sanitizers, I’m probably more sensitive than most about germs, bacteria, sanitization and such.
“Aren’t you a little worried about contamination?”
”Eh. I was planning to heat it up and make hot toddies. That’ll kill any bacteria.”
Right.
Pas pour moi, merci.
None for me, thanks.
I’ll take the pasteurized, bottled OJ with no bits.
It’s been a while since I posted pics from my phone so here’s the last few weeks from the eye of my celly.
Pregnant and jet-lagged. This is how we spent the first few days back in the Lux: in pajamas watching movies in bed. And sleeping. Lots and lots of sleeping.
The Schueberfouer Festival comes to Luxembourg at the end of summer.
This is where we decided that Hannah probably shouldn’t be allowed to drive a car until she’s 30 and operate a real motorcycle until…never.
Exploring the underground passages and fortresses at the Bock Casemates.
Someday when we have long returned to the US, and I think of France, I will think of Rodemack and our little day trips to this cute town.
We also took a trip to London, which is a whole post of its own. Coming soon.
Pirates and Princess Day at school. This little princess wore wellies with horses on them with her gown. Of course she did. And then at dinner that night, she insisted that I announce her and say, “Your royal feast is served, your majesty.”
It was a daddy’s-off-work-ice-cream-after-school kind of day.
These two crack me up. Watching a movie in bed while drinking the milk (juice?) from a coconut through a straw. A few minutes later, I heard some awful racket in the garage and then the two of them returned to their movie with the coconut cracked open and they ate the inside, fleshy part. (Is that even what the inside of a coconut is called?)
Oh hey. See you in March.
And finally, a view of the baby from the top of the head. Look at that wee little hand. I think he or she is waving hello to us.
Or already doing razzle-dazzle-jazz-hands.
Ok, that’s it for my cell phone.
Today I woke up with the second trimester THIS IS GREAT I LOVE BEING PREGNANT burst of energy. With Hannah, I was feeling great at 12 weeks, so it took a bit longer this time.
But I’ll take it.
Happy Friday!
