without even thinking about my knees! This is the kind of slope that used to keep me from enjoying the outdoors, and now, piece of cake!

This is the path from the top, and you can see Midge is leading the way.

I am pretty proud of myself - I navigated the surgeries, and was very assiduous about doing the post op PT, and here I am, walking the walk all over the dunes.

And speaking of walking the walk, just a reminder that Seed the Vote connects volunteer canvassers in from Blue states with organizations knocking on doors in swing districts. In the upcoming mid-terms, there are enough seats in play to win a Democratic majority in the House and maybe even the Senate.

If you’re reading this, I know you are struggling not to be discouraged by the latest outrage from the Supreme Court allowing limitations on mail in ballots. We know that will depress turnout which historically has favored the reeps. Which makes it even more urgent to get folks to the doors to make sure voters get to the polls.

That’s why supporting Seed the Vote is so important right now. And here’s an easy, fun way to do that:

This is going to be a fun event, and if fun, entertainment, and inspiration isn’t enough to get you there, please note, you can bring your knives (and garden tools! and scissors!) with you, drop them off on your way in, and pick them up sharpened on your way out.

I’m sad that I won’t be there in person, but if you can be, please GO! And if you can’t go, send some money.

Small victories are great. But a BIG WIN in 2026 would be even better.

We stayed on the top top floor of pretty old building (so no air conditioning) with a view of the sky and rooftops.

The room was pretty small, but really clean and comfortable, and had an en suite bathroom. The shower door couldn’t open all the way since the toilet was in the way, but there was great water pressure even 5 stories up.

Breakfast was little bit DIY

with amazing bread that came with its own guillotine

and there was yogurt and cheese and jams and and and

Fully rested and fed, we headed to the river Aar, which runs through the center of the city. There is an amazing water park that you can just stroll into - no admission, no fence, although renting a locker costs 5 francs (Switzerland is not in the EU; I had to get Swiss francs, and except for the locker, nothing was very cheap.)

The River Aar flows swiftly, and riding the current is very popular

It moves pretty fast

There are stairs built in all along the bank.

It’s not freezing, and on a hot day, definitely refreshing

A really fantastic experience

Getting out was something of a challenge. For one thing, you have to swim back to the bank across the current. I kind of mis-judged and missed the first couple of staircases out, and then the current bashed me into the rocks. But I made it to the stairs and managed to get out

a little worse for wear, and showing too much cleavage. The walk back to the starting point took awhile, but it was so worth it for the fun of cruising down the river again.

There was also a big lap pool, a diving pool, two gigantic shallow water pools, and whimsical wading pool with giant cement whales that kids were playing on. Although there were probably a couple thousand people in the park, it felt friendly and safe, and not too crowded. It is a grassy field with lockers, snack bars, rows of wooden changing rooms and WC’s, a big snack bar, a regular bar, and acres of skin. Most people were wearing minimal bathing suits and tattoos. I felt a little over dressed, since even women over 60 were in moderate two piece suits, and I have no tattoos.

The next day was August 1st, Swiss National Day and there was an outdoor festival. Although Switzerland per its constitution has no capital city, Bern is the “federal center” so the festival was in plaza by the some of the federal buildings. There were food booths, and I got a sausage on rye bread, and washed it down with a 0% alcohol draft beer, listening to the music

And finished it off tropical fruit soft serve in a charcoal cone

The next day at the water park, I stayed in the sort of lagoon that had been dug out. There was current, so swimming there was a lot of kicking and stroking to go absolutely nowhere, but at least there were plenty of ladders and no big rocks to slam into. We took the funicula back up the hill, which was fun, except

Near the plaza there is a fountain. One of the great things about the area, is the fountains provide drinking water. If you have a water bottle, you can just fill it up whereever, and the water is completely safe to drink.

That u-shaped bar is a place to rest a bucket; I think people have been getting water from that fountain to cook and wash with since before there was indoor plumbing.

On August 2 we took the train to Thun, and, following the advice of the woman at the tourist information center at the station, took a local bus to what seemed to be a neighborhood hang out on Lake Thun (Thunersee)

Again, making it easy for people to swim was a local priority

It’s definitely an Alpine Lake, so after swimming around gazing at the mountains, it was nice to lie in the sun and enjoy the view.

What really impressed me, is that the river and lake are clean enough to swim in, with easy public access and facilities for use, and the fountains are not just decoration, they are a source of drinking water free to all. Keeping an environment for people to enjoy life and stay safe and healthy is part of the zeitgeist. We left our phones and wallets with our towels on the shore of the lake; we used the WC’s; we lounged on the grass; we drank water from medieval fountains; we swam in the lake. And at the end of the day, no rashes, no stomach problems, and our phones and wallets were just where we left them.

There was even a castle, and we wandered around it. It was the summer retreat for generations of wealthy families, and there were great exhibits, using video really creatively to portray maids carrying trays of food down the stairs, and a sink full of vegetables being washed, and then sliced on the counter. You could try on helmets, and even a mail shirt. Of course, it was too heavy to even take off the hanger.

Looking out the window of the train back to Thun we spotted an festival put on by the African Swiss friendship committee

where we had dinner

We learned that it happens periodically during the year. It was clearly an opportunity for African ex pats to gather, but there were several Swiss folks there who said they come for the food, which was delicious.

Even in the midst of this healthy outdoor life, people still think about what’s going on in the world

And no amount of distraction will make people forget

Happy Swiss National Day!

That was a pretty big lemon!

I was meeting my water jogging buddies, so we went to lunch. We realized that we were all wearing our suits, and that the beach was only a couple of hundred yards away!

So off we went, and I took my first plunge in the North Sea. That felt like a big glass of lemonade!

At first it felt pretty cold, but once I was fully submerged, it was great! The day was about 72 degrees F. Next time there’s a heat wave, I know a dip will be really refreshing. The only problem, once I got into the water, and was floating around, I couldn’t get back up! Luckily I was swimming with friends, and got a helping hand.

I really worked hard after my second knee replacement to be able to get up off the floor on my own; living alone, I don’t want to be stuck on the floor if I fall! But luckily I don’t get tumbled around by the waves in my living room so I can take care of my self independently. (Added benefit, I can even kneel on my new knees - it feels weird, but I can do it!) However: Note to self - no swimming alone!

I met my water jogging friends at Democrats Abroad activities, and we’re still doing that. Last Sunday we went to Leiden (about a 15 minute train ride from Den Haag Central Station) for the montly DA lunch. We met up with a few other hardy souls, and planned out our tabling for getting folks registered. There are very strict privacy rules in Europe (GDPR - General Data Protection Regulations), so it’s essential that we collect “permission to contact” from as many Democrats living in the Netherlands as possible. Then we can call them to get out the vote.

While there are a LOT of Democrats registered here, voting participation is not great. There are state by state differences in how ballots can get turned in (which is great, because voter management is a state function, not a federal function, take that Save the Vote Act). I found out that the worst way to send a ballot is in the embassy pouch. It goes all around the place collecting ballots, and then they get dumped in the mail at Dulles Airport. There’s no guarantee they will arrive on time to be counted. Since Ambassadors are presidential appointees, and the current appointees are MAGA, and loyalty to Tr*mp is more important that competence, the embassy pouch is even dicier! Plus only about half the Ambassadorships are filled. That’s why the human touch to get those ballots transmitted by mail, email or fax - depending on requirements of each state - is so crucial.

We will be calling folks for the remaining primaries, which will renew their GDPR status, so we can call and door knock for the general election. I definitely want to be part of getting out the vote in the Netherlands. There are so many overseas voters that we can be the margin of victory in tight races.

And speaking of the margin of victory - SEED THE VOTE is ramping up its volunteer recruiting activity. In 2024, STV supported so many volunteers traveling to Nevada and Arizona that Democrats were elected to the Senate (with slim margins, but a win is a win) even thought those states had a majority of presidential votes for Tr*mp.

In 2024, I was part of a team that hosted a really entertaining fundraiser for Seed the Vote at the Berkeley Mills Furniture Showroom in Berkeley, with monologist Josh Kornbluth as our headliner, great food, easy parking, and nice music. We’re doing it again!

Even though I’m thousands of miles away, I’m helping out. Consider this your (first) invite.

Here are the details:

If you’re near Berkeley on September 13, you can go to this event! If you’re not, you can still support Seed the Vote. Here’s the link to copy and paste:

https://secure.actblue.com/donate/1-bay-area-fundraiser

Since Seed the Vote recruits volunteers from all Blue states, and subsidizes travel to states where a few votes per precinct can swing the election, you don’t have to be in California to support this effort.

We all know how urgent it is that Democrats win majorities in the House and Senate. Live humans at the doors are the most effective way to get voters to the polls. Seed the Vote recruits them, and subsidizes travel to get those humans to the doors in states where every vote for a Democrat counts. If you can go, then please go. If you can’t, then please help someone else get there by contributing to Seed the Vote.

P.S. Thanks to MAGA, ActBlue can only operate in the US. So don’t send the link to anyone living in another country. If you have any friends who are US citizens and live in some other country, they should connect with Votefromabroad.org ASAP to make sure they are registered, and that they’ve requested their ballot.

But a loss on the football field doesn’t influence the bursts of color everywhere.

As Midge and I walk to across the street to the park, we pass

and then we’re on the hill

and we can see the sea

People plant flowers whereever there’s a little patch of earth

As part of the campaign to replace sidewalks with oxygen producing plants to lower the effects of climate change, there’s a country wide program to replace the stones of the sidewalks with plants. If you bring your flagstones in, you get plants! Here’s someone who really got into it

There’s something very Dutch about all the flowers. You can see them on the clothes in the open air market

People are wearing them

And any open space is a place for more flowers

It’s pretty amazing.

On the 4th of July I went to a party hosted by Overseas Americans Remember

There were hambergers and hot dogs, and lots of cookies. Also plenty of sun. And people from the embassy, so the feeling was kind of oppressively patriotic.

It was held in Wassenaar, which is referred to as a ghetto for Americans. It’s a lot like going to Marin County. Really pretty, big houses, and a kind of peaceful vibe.

There was a big pool with water lilies

I also went to the Democrats Abroad barbecue. It was held in a brewery, and clearly accessibility was not on the menu. To get the beer, you had to get up these stairs, and then down, holding your drink! These are what we call “Dutch Stairs” and they’re how folks get from floor to floor in many of the buildings.

And yes, at this place, the treads are just open grids. I was clinging to the bannisters!

Makes me happy to live on the ground floor, and my building has an elevator.

Being with Democrats was a comforting way to spend the 250th birthday of the founding of our country, especially as I worry, along with you, that things are not going well for our inalienable rights.

I’ve gotten involved with the Get Out the Vote here for Democrats Abroad. I learned that there are so many Democrats registered in the Netherlands that it can be the margin of victory in a close race. Mid-terms, here we come!

And I’m on the host committee for a September arty for Seed the Vote in Berkeley. More info coming soon.

But here we are, almost 2 months later, and not only are they still up, they have multiplied! And added red, white and blue - the colors of the Nederland flag to the mix. My neighborhood has exploded with flags,

banners,

and window dressings

covering the walls of buildings,

strung across the streets,

and in the windows.

My neighbor is making sure out building is not left out, and asked me to put balloons on my door

And this evening, I got totally into the spirit, dressed myself up, and went to a sports bar to watch the Netherlands play Sweden

Check out my orange earrings, and my red, white, blue and orange scarf.

It was a very happy crowd, singing along to Who Let the Dogs Out, and other Nederland classics, and raising the roof whenever our team scored

The noise was crushing! Partly the enthusiasm of the crowd, and partly the tin ceiling

which reverberated with the joyful noise. (Turn down your volume before playing!)

I was having a great time; there is wonderful 0 alcohol beer here, on tap! And the NL team scored the first goal about 5 minutes after the start, and then a second goal 10 minutes in. And then two goals in quick succession before the second half was even really started. But then I remembered - I had left a dog and a cat at home. And Duindorp loves to celebrate. So I hopped on a bus, and headed home.

When I got off the bus, the air was ripe with cordite, and by time I’d reached my front door, there had been 5 explosions. Plus the sirens of several police cars. Flynn is away, and I’m the human contact for Ophelia (the cat), plus I’d left Midge home with nothing but a few kongs, a full water dish, and some blankets.

After reassuring Ophelia that she had not been abandoned, I rushed downstairs, and tried to comfort Midge. She was bouncing around, barking at every sound, and I was glad I’d rushed home. The Netherlands won, 5-1, so my absence did not cause any bad luck.

I had a really fun evening, but I think I’ll stay at home for any future games. I’m not much of a football judge; most of what I know I learned watching Ted Lasso, and I remember a few things from Flynn’s soccer games which were about 35 years ago. But it does seem that the NL team is really good. They have a strong passing game, and the goalie is amazing! I expect there will be victory fireworks again, and I’ll celebrate by cuddling Midge under the covers.

Because Ireland is only an hour behind the Netherlands, and less than a two hour flight, my travel was a breeze. I was meeting up with friends for a walking history tour in Dublin just a few hours after I got out of bed, walked Midge, and headed for the airport.

Dublin is layers and layers of history. Medieval towers, stone walls, mid 20th century apartment buildings, and what looks like a 21st century cell tower all in one view.

Our guide for the walking tour was young, really knowledgable, and eager to share information and even some opinions with travelers from around the world.

I learned so much! Most of what I knew about Ireland came from reading Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man, and watching some Irish police procedurals on PBS. Having lived in Boston from 1967-1978, and watching Southies (folks living in South Boston where many people still spoke with a brogue) throw stones at African American children being bused into their neighborhood, I had a pretty simplistic idea of Irish Nationalism, bolstered by The Hostage by Brendan Behan, and Derry Girls.

Finding out how the English manipulated the political landscape in Ireland, disenfranchising not just Catholics, but Baptists, Presbyterians, Quakers, and pretty much everyone who didn’t own property and didn’t worship in the Church of Ireland (allied with the Church of England) was a revelation. Ireland had a very bloody road to nationhood, and there is still contention about how/where the counties of Northen Ireland should be. Most signs are in Gaelic and English!

And we did get hear some traditonal Irish music.

I especially liked the little bagpipe the guy on the left has in his lap. And the guy in the middle was great on spoons.

Because Dublin is in the Republic of Ireland and still part of the EU, I could use Euros, and getting through immigration was a breeze. The next day we took a bus/train combination for a couple of hours, and were in Belfast, which is in England, and we had to use pounds.

We had another history tour, and our guide was a very opinionated, Irish Republican (as in loyal to an independent Ireland, not in the GOP.) She had grown up during “the troubles”, and has vivid memories of Belfast as a divided city, and the day an English soldier tried to shoot her mother. Her father was imprisoned for months, and it was not uncommon for her to see someone fall in the street after being knee-capped.

Her perspective is that the struggle between England and Ireland is a class struggle, and that religion is not the main the division. From her we learned that the British kept food from the Irish during the famine in the mid-1800’s, and their actions were genocidal.

What really struck me is that the discrimination was Irish on Irish. There is no visiual way to distinguish British loyalists in Ireland from Irish Republicans. Even more than German Jews and Dutch Jews were German or Dutch, the two people on the sides of this conflict are Irish. And yet, the way the Irish are treated in their own country seems like racism, from being excluded from the insitutions of government to being starved in their own land, hauled out of their homes and executed, their language suppressed. Being there gave me a lot to think about.

Our guide sees Belfast as a working class city. She showed us the stained glass windows in Belfast City Hall which highlight progressive values that are at the heart of the city.

Belfast also has a vibrant arts community. Our guide’s uncle is part of this band!

Plenty of outdoor scuplture

And poetry everywhere

Here is the theater where Stairway to Heaven was first performed by Led Zepplelin

And I celebrated my birthday! We went to a fabulous dinner at the Merchant Hotel. It was a built as a bank, completed in 1860, and converted into a hotel in 2006. The architecture is elaborate, and the food was great. Here is my floating meringue dessert

We also shared profiteroles, and I got a special birthday cake.

A pretty great way to turn 77.

This is the path to the beach near our apartment. A few months ago it looked like this

Bike parking is kind of tight too

And here’s the infrastructure trying to keep up with the traffic

One of the things I’ve noticed is that people are kind of casual about picking up after themselves. Maybe it’s a consequence of the high taxes and the strong social safety net - people know the “ government” is going to take care of things. (Midge had to be dragged away from trying to find little morsels tucked into the wrappings - but her tail is still curled up because she’s so happy to be outside.)

And sure enough, a few days later

I haven’t seen any of the long horn cattle that I used to see

(Remember

these gals?)

But now the foxes have had babies!

So although people were swarming to the beach, they did stay on the paths, and dogs were on leash. (Dogs aren’t allowed onto the actual beach during the day between May 15 and October 15. But they are still welcome to trot around the dunes, so long as they stay away from foxes and cattle.)

However, in our neighborhood, where there are hundreds of dogs and lots of places for dogs to amble and play, there is an ominous side.

This sign is warning us that someone has scattered sponges soaked in gravy and peanut butter around the dog park surrounding the canal. Eating them can be lethal, and off leash dogs are able to gobble up anything! While dogs are endangered, at least they have us, their devoted guardians, to make sure they avoid these lures. But what about the foxes, and squirrels and other little mammels that scurry around?

Is this something that some tik tokker has done to create drama? Or is there an animal hater in our midst?

Until this gets cleaned up, or the there is enough rain to wash these sponges clean, Midge and I are staying away from our treks around the canal, and “confining” ourselves to the beach, the woods, and long walks around the neighborhood. I am sad that the place that was safe for her to be off leash is now off-limits (remember - she ran away at the beach! I haven’t let her run free in un-fenced areas yet, even with her tracker.)

I’ve started going to a gym (one of the few places, along with grocery stores, where dogs are not allowed), and afterwards, I need lunch. Here’s the view from the table

Not on Whitsun weekend, when there were NO empty chairs; just another day in the neighborhood. I’m looking forward to a wonderful summer.

In September, 1967 I left Port Washington, NY and headed for Boston University. From that time on, I never spent more than a couple of weeks at a time in New York. I had a bedroom in Port Washington, then once my parents moved to New York City a couple of years later, I was always a guest, sharing my sister’s room on my visits “home.” As the years passed, all three of us (my brother, sister and I became guests, along with our spouses and kids.) But I never gave up The New Yorker magazine. When I moved to California in 1978, my mother gifted me a New Yorker subscription. I have kept it up ever since, partly in her honor, but really, because I can’t imagine life without it.

Granted, now I have a digital subscription. On my car trip across the country, I hauled a big box of unread New Yorkers, planning to get up to date on that journey. Leaving a couple of dozen unread ones behind when I boarded the plane was kind of of a wrench. (As an aside, I remember sitting on the plane to somewhere, reading a 14 month old New Yorker, and glancing at the woman sitting next to me - who was a couple of decades younger. She was on the exact same page of the exact same New Yorker I was reading! So I’m not the only one who travels with aging magazines.)

Another aside, for those of you who have watched “The Good Place”, remember this scene?

https://www.bing.com/videos/riverview/relatedvideo?q=the%20good%20place%20New%20York%20magazine&mid=CFFBFCC565725967362BCFFBFCC565725967362B&ajaxhist=0

As a digital subscriber, I not only get daily and weekly emails of current issues, I get “flashback” articles. A couple of months ago, it included “Dog Story, How did the dog become our master?” By Adam Gopnik, August 1, 2011.

As you know, thanks to Midge (and Dammy and Beeny – who lived with us in Port Washington), I am a dog lover, and I really enjoy Adam Gopnik’s way of weaving book references and reviews together into broader articles. (BTW – really love Patricia Marx, “On and Off the Avenue” and pretty much anything Jill Lepore writes. But I digress.)

Not sure how I missed this article the first time around (actually, I do know how – I don’t think I’ve ever read a New Yorker all the way through, and not having Midge, I wouldn’t have made sure to read an article about dogs in 2011.)

When I read the AI summary of this article, it didn’t raise any of the points that I fixated on. Here are the excerpts that stuck with me:

“Who will believe that animals closely resembling the Italian greyhound, the bloodhound, the bull-dog or Blenheim spaniel, etc.—so unlike all wild Canidae—ever existed freely in a state of nature?” Darwin wrote. Out of one, many...

Ever since, what we think Darwinism says has been structured in part by what we think it says about dogs. Darwin’s instinct was, as usual, right. Dogs do descend directly from wolves; the two species can still breed with one another (producing many scary-looking new back breeds). The vexed issue is how long ago they parted ways, and why...

Dogs, we are now told, by a sequence of scientists and speculators—beginning with the biologists Raymond and Lorna Coppinger, in their 2001 masterwork, “Dogs”—domesticated themselves. They chose us. (emphasis mine) . A marginally calmer canid came close to the circle of human warmth—and, more important, human refuse—and was tolerated by the humans inside: let him eat the garbage. Then this scavenging wolf mated with another calm wolf, and soon a family of calmer wolves proliferated just outside the firelight. It wasn’t cub-snatching on the part of humans, but breaking and entering on the part of wolves, that gave us dogs. “Hey, you be ferocious and eat them when you can catch them,” the proto-dogs said, in evolutionary effect, to their wolf siblings. “We’ll just do what they like and have them feed us. (emphasis mine) Dignity? It’s a small price to pay for free food. Check with you in ten thousand years and we’ll see who’s had more kids.” (Estimated planetary dog population: one billion. Estimated planetary wild wolf population: three hundred thousand.)

So is Midge just doing what I like to get free food? I love her, and I really like to believe she loves me.

Is this what an opportunist looks like?

Or is this

just asking for this

And here I thought she loved me for myself. But then, to Midge, what is myself? I don’t think she cares that I have a good sense of humor, or hate MAGA, or like folk music.

And why do I love her? Because I love her so much! She is a steady comfort to me, and I don’t care about her sense of humor, or whether she likes literature more than physics, or what her career aspirations are. Is it just because oxytocin is released when we look at each other?

Or maybe because we both love the outdoors? And enjoy the canal near our house where she can safely run off leash.

Especially where the bushes grow close together and make a little tunnel for her.

Or the park across the street where the forest is still and cool after a rainstorm?

Or maybe she wants to join this family which is such an obvious foster fail

But things could be getting better for Midge. We found a great place that’s open after water aerobics - our class is on Tuesday, and on Tuesday most restraurants are closed. But Coffeebar Kafnush is open and I got a great roasted vegetable salad.

On Wednesdays, Fridays and Saturdays a fish truck is parked at the end of my block, and I got salmon, plus potatoes, dill and parsley in the Hoogvliet

Of course, since I’m not a very accomplished cook, there were bits and pieces on the floor, and Midge was able to indulge her first love, food. I did get the second hand version.

And that’s why I love her.

And his birthday, April 27, is celebrated all over the county on King’s Day, with street music, sidewalk selling, and everyone wears something orange.

We observed the festivities at Italian Moments, our favorite pizza and Italian sandwich place. There was a line almost out the door for most of the day. Because we’ve made friends with the owner, we were happy to jump in and help out. Flynn was at the espresso machine all day, making all kinds of coffee. Midge and I had made a circuit of the surrounding streets, which is how I was able to get photos of all the stuff on display for sale.

Midge was not happy in the crowds, so I took her home before I bused tables, bagged up garbage, and even ran out to the corner store for toilet paper.

I really loved these two tween-agers who were singing for sushi.

It was a pretty fun day, but I was happy to get home and put my feet up.

A couple of days later I had a very different experience, because I joined a new friend from the Green/Labor Party for a long walk in Ockenburg National Park. It was at the south end of The Hague. I took the 14 Bus to the last stop (Kijkduin Beach), and we headed into the “forest”.

There was a scuplture made out of discarded trash from building renovations - part of the whole recycling ethos here.

And plots for gardens that neighbors can use for growing flowers and vegetables, kind of like the victory gardens that started up in World War II in the US. (We had a plot in Belmont, MA back in 1976 and 1977. We even grew corn!)

And the manor house turned into a restaurant

I’ll leave you with one question, what was Aquagate about?

Growing up on the north shore of Long Island, there was a lilac tree that bloomed outside my bedroom window. I left the window open at night, and my room was filled with the fragrance and blossoms that werethe collection of tiny blooms. I love California, but I missed the lilacs.

Being here, where the climate is much more like the climate where I grew up than the climate I left last August, lilacs remind me of home. After a couple of months of humming California Dreaming, it’s nice to see green leaves again.

The walk to the vet to get another bag of food for Midge, I find spring in full flower, or should I say flowers?

Snowdrops or something else?

Maybe Queen Anne’s Lace

This field was full of crocuses a month ago and now - full fledged GREEN!

I was wrong about the dandelions. There are tons of them mixed in with the little daisies.

And I went to Kuekenhof Gardens (aka Disneyland, except for flowers) to see the tulip bloom.

We were there early, so there were also hyacinths and daffodills still blooming. I didn’t take many photos since I know there are much better photos available, although they don’t have me in them.

(Here’s the link to their flowering reports: https://keukenhof.nl/nl/nieuws/actueel-bloeibericht/?_gl=1*1ecgu86*_up*MQ..*_ga*NDMxODA4MDI3LjE3NzY2Mzg4MjQ.*_ga_38224Y45Z9*czE3NzY2Mzg4MjEkbzEkZzAkdDE3NzY2Mzg4NzgkajMkbDAkaDIxMjM5MTY0NDM.)

The weather has been great, and I’ve had visitors, so I’ve done a lot of walking around, and got to see and hear this demonstration demanding justice for detainees in Nicaraugua.

I remember when we liked Daniel Ortega, so this is a reminder of how sometimes our leaders disappoint us. This is grim especially now when I am feeling the disappointment in Eric Swalwell and Cesar Chavez! But I did enjoy the music

April 27 in the Netherlands is also Konigsdag (Kings Day - because I live in a country that has a king who people generally like, although there is some controversy.) The popularity of King Willem Alexander dropped signficantly after he went on vacation in Greece during the early days of COVID. And people object to paying for sustaining a royal family, although one person posted

While i don’t mind them.

We might need to consider their abolishment.

However hopefully we don’t end up with the president situation like america. Where 50% Hates them.

Of course, it’s now more than 50%.

But even with the waning popularity, people around here are pretty jazzed about celebrating Konigsday. We participated in decorating our building, and I am showing off the orange lining of my jacket (which is from the US, but I got the sweatshirt in the kringloop - thrift store - here.)

In honor of Konigsdag, here is another tulip.

Going to the No Tyrants Rally in Amsterdam really brought home to me that we are engaged in building an international front against fascism. Phrases like “the Hitler-Stalin Pact” and “Yalta Conference” started rattling around in my head. And it puts the Volts Party, the all European party that I wrote about a couple of posts ago, into perspective. I wonder if that party is United Front or Popular Front? And how do we assess that in the internet age? Will AI help? What would Engels have made of AI?

Meanwhile, as much as I loved the funny signs, like this one

and this one

these really made me feel that we’re part of something that transcends national borders

and another dog!

There was also a frog - we could have been in Portland!

and these guys

I even got interviewed! I’m at minute 4

But we were on Museumplein, and in keeping with the Dutch custom of work/life balance, after the rally, we went to the Van Gogh Museum

I like how the Seed the Vote logo fits in with the general vibe!

This was a special exhibit about how Van Gogh and his contemporaries used yellow. And if you can tolerate another Harold and Maude reference, there were several of these

with different “yellow” inspired fragrances. Here’s how to activate them:

reminding me of Maude’s “Oderifics” including “snow in Times Square” which could have had a yellow aura too.

I got there by taking the bus to the station, an inter city train from Den Haag to Amsterdam, and then a tram to the Museumplein. We also managed to have a lovely lunch, a big mezze spread - cucumber salad, marinated carrots, roasted beets, hummus, smoke eggplant, felafal, a spicy green dip that wasn’t cilantro(!), and the lightest most delicious pita bread I’ve ever had. There was pita leftover, and I took it home and made incredible toast.

Definitely a bread and sunflowers day.

When I was growing up in Port Washington, NY, on the north shore of Long Island, we knew spring was coming when we saw the crocuses poking out of the snow. Well, we have had a few days of light snow here in The Hague, but really, lots and lots of crocuses (croci?).

And even a couple of dandelions!

Although those are the only ones I’ve seen, because besides the crocuses, there are just so many Daffodils!

Fronting apartment complexes and bordering the streets

And is this one a volunteer? Did it fall out of someone’s pocket and just take root?

And of course, mixed with jonquils

They remind me of The Glass Menagerie, that great scene when Amanda, the mother, is going on about how much she loved jonquils, since it’s a play of memory, maybe you remember

“So lovely, that country in May — all lacy with dogwood, literally flooded with jonquils! That was the spring I had a craze for jonquils….”

(Just an aside, I know that people think Amanda is a smothering mother, strangling her son’s poetic nature, and forcing her daughter to typing school. But I always think of her as a single mother terrified of what the future holds for her very sensitive daughter, embarrased by her limp and more hindered by shyness than her limited mobility. She just hopes that her dreamy son will at least help her to secure a safe haven for his sister before he also “falls in love with long distance” and abandons them both to the grinding poverty that single women adrift without a male protector will face in depression era America. I have a lot of sympathy for Amanda, and hope to see her portrayed as the fighter and heroine she really is, instead of as the monster crushing her son’s dreams that is so often how she is played.)

Daffodils, jonquils and narcissus are all called narcis here; they are all the same genus, and named because the way the head droops looks like Narcisuss bending over to gaze lovingly at the reflection of his face in the pond. And if he was as beautiful as these flowers, no wonder he was captivated!

There are also shrubs and trees bursting into bloom.

And if you can stand another script reference, these remind me of the scene in the botanical gardens where Maude asks Harold what kind of flower he would like to be. And he replies he’d like to be one of a cluster of white flowers because “they are all alike”, and Maude says

“Oooh, but they are not. Look. See – some are smaller, some are fatter, some grow to the left, some to the right, some even have lost some petals – all kinds of observable differences.

You see, Harold, I feel that much of the world’s sorrow comes from people who are this

and allow themselves to be treated as that…”

These photos are mostly from a walk Midge and I took to her vet. We walked along the canal and actually saw some ugly scenary!

But turn 90 degrees, and see this

Look straight ahead and see

And it looks like there will be more to come, these are just starting out

But a couple have already fully bloomed

Meanwhile, we are also in election season! The election is this coming week. I went to a candidate forum especially geared towards expats. Because any EU citizen can vote in the city council elections, and any other non-citizen who has lived in The Netherlands for 5 years can as well.

The forum had representatives of 11 of 15 parties with candidates for city council. There are 45 council seats altogether (The Hague has a population of about 550,000, a little more than Oakland and the city of Alameda combined). Here’s the line up of speakers

Here’s the council chamber

And today in Den Haag Centrum (the city center of The Hague) party activists were gathering to do GOTV

The Volt party is an European party; it’s pretty progressive, supports a more united Europe including a European army, shared acceptance of immigrants among the EU countries, a circular economy that is both economically and environmentally sustainable, more mass transit and fewer short haul flights. I was very moved by the speech that Canadian Prime Mininster Mark Carney gave at Davos advocating for the Middle Powers to work together to counter the US, Russia and China. I think that I will probably end up most connected with Volt, although the Green/Labor merger is also aligned with my politics. And of course Midge thinks I should get involved with Partij voor de Dieren (Party for the Animals - the animal rights party that is generally very strong on protecting the environment.)

I really liked Mylene Tabernal, the VOLT candidate in the Hague (second from left in the photo above). I got a chance to chat with her after the formal presentations in the “spin room” portion of the evening, and spoke with her again today because she was at the GOTV launch that I saw on my way to a second hand clothing sale.

You don’t have to be a Dutch citizen to volunteer for a party, and then you get to vote for the party endorsements.

In the meantime, although it was cold and rainy today, spring is coming, and I’ll leave you with this

One of the ways that happens is the garbage collection. We have sunken bins on the streets, with smooth, rounded metal cases that stand about 2 1/2 feet tall. They have what look like little handles sticking up. Periodically, a truck comes along, grabs the little handle, and lifts the sunken garbage pail up, empties it into a truck, and replaces it.

Like this:

Living in Duindorp (Dune Village), so near the North Sea, there is a lot of sand. I often think about Edna St. Vincent Millay with her “shining palace built upon the sand” as I walk along the stone and brick streets and sidewalks.

You may notice that there is no mortor or cement between the bricks. The pavement and the stone sidewalks are just pounded into the sand. It’s not the most stable situation, and if you walk around, generally there will be a stretch of sidewalk where the stones are piled up and workers are smoothing and pounding the sand in order to re-set the sidewalks. But the other day, I saw the system to resetting a street. Keizerstraat is a historical street a couple of miles north that leads to the beach. Here’s how it’s done:

A nice match of human being and machine!

But even as daily life and ongoing maintenance happen, I again reflect on the enemies of my enemies and wonder who my friends are. On my way from a crafts fair put on by Female Ventures, a group that promotes women entrepreneurs and crafters, I heard what sounded like klezmer music and saw this strange and upsetting sight:

To see Iranians rejoicing, wrapped in their flags and waving the flag of Israel and dancing with the Stars and Stripes unnerved me. I stopped and spoke with one of the demonstrators. She said she is so grateful to the US and Israel, and I said, “Even though they just bombed your country?!?” She said that living under the reign of the religious clerics caused so much suffering, and that the Iranian people are grateful for any help. I asked her if she felt the same way about the carpet bombing of Gaza by Israel that was supported and in large measure funded by the US. She said she grieved for the Palestinian people, but that Iranians had been waiting for help from Europe and the US to unseat the clerics for decades.

I was not about to argue with her; I believe her suffering and the suffering of her family still in Iran is real. But the thought that the imperialist partnership of Israel and the United States is welcomed by anyone other than oligarchs and billionaires is very troubling to me.

I was grateful that Portside pubished this interview, which really helped me to understand the situation better:

https://portside.org/2026-03-05/course-iranians-want-change-question-what-kind-change?utm_medium=email&utm_source=portside-snapshot

Luckily for my peace of mind, there is a fenced area by the canal near my apartment where my co-pilot can wander off-leash and not run away. Plus the weather has been fantastic; the sun shining makes for big shadows!

On my way, I saw a (much larger) parade of Iranians who seem to demanding that Reza Pahlavi, the son of Mohammad Reza Pahlavi (who those of you who remember Kennedy in Berlin will remember was the Shah overthrown in 1979) be installed as the rightful Shah of present day Iran. As if the situtation there wasn’t confusing enough.

For me, that was the first time that the gang overthrowing the bad guy wasn’t really the good guys. An important lesson in realpolitik - the enemy of my enemy isn’t necessarily my friend!

Anyway, back to where I was actually headed.

And although it says PINK, the flag is green, and it’s the Party for Animal Rights

Yes, Partij voor de Dieren does love animals, and they bring a strong environmental message. It feels very meaningful in this city of Den Haag where there are so many parks and refuges for animals, and this party’s support of tree health and habitat protection is an important part of the healthy, not just sustainable, environment.

There were speakers in Dutch and English. I listened carefully to the speeches in Dutch because I am trying to learn to hear separate words in a language that is so gutteral that is sounds like gargaling marbles. I did recognize a couple of phrases, notably “Epstein Files” and “ICE OUT”. There is a lot of vocabulary overlap between Dutch and English!

As you probably know, I am putting a lot of energy into meeting people, and getting to know my new community. The Democrats Abroad, Indivisable crowd is a natural fit for me. We agree about politics (and that’s something I care about deeply), and everyone speaks English.

But I have also been trying to meet Dutch people, and I really treasure opportunities to get to know my neighbors. My neighborood is Duindorp - Dune Village. It is right next to the North Sea, and it’s very sandy here. (I sweep up a lot of sand inside my apartment every couple of days - Midge and I track it in from our walks in the park; it blows in when I open my door to the yard; and it blows around and sticks to everything, then falls off once we get inside.) This neighborhood is NOT part of the international, intersectional culture of Den Haag (remember, World Court, Peace Palace, World Forum, lots of embassies etc.) Instead, there is a strong local identity. There is a lot of fishing and descendents of fishers, and a LEAVE US ALONE, WE’RE FINE mentality.

We Live Here Well! Don’t Destroy Us! We Are Happy Our homes are fine, please maintain.

For example, there’s a city council campaign that is opposing on the city’s plan to convert a two way street next to the canal into a one-way street with a proposed tram line and no more street parking. Duindorp is very resistant to the social engineering that is making car ownership difficult and promoting public transit and biking.

Scheveningin deserves better from the Heart of the Hague.

I moved here for the chance to fulfill a long time ambition to live in another country, which got super-charged by the 2024 presidential election (among lots of other reasons). Although I felt that I was in some measure fleeing the emerging national politics, I am not a refugee. I came willingly, and with the resources to establish myself comfortably. In that frame, I am interested in who lives here, and I feel like I’m in their space, and I hope I will be welcomed as a potential friend, even if my dog is pretty noisy and reactive.

The Christmas season went into full swing about a month after we moved into our apratment at the end of September. Instead of Santa and the elves, in the Netherlands there is Sinterklaas and Schwartz Piet. Schwartz Piet is a youth who slides down the chimney to help put out presents, and his face is covered in black (schwartz) soot. However, as fun loving and innocent as that sounds, Schwartz Piet was originally a Moor, who, legend has it, came from Spain with a boatload of presents. And was/is depicted as a caraciture of an African with big red lips and large rolling eyes. Although also as a soot faced kid.

Various image of Sinterklaas and Schwartz Piet are on display all over the place leading up to December 5, the day Sinterklaas arrives to distribute presents (nicely separating the joy at the birth of Jesus from the more commercial present exchanges, although there are big present displays in the stores all the way through December - go capitalism!) and the images of both subside pretty quickly after that.

I don’t know when the response to Schwartz Piet as offensively racist started to develop, but it’s fully active now. See this sticker on the drum of the band at the rally yesterday.

During the holiday season, the woman at the chicken truck, who I have gotten very friendly with, was very upset because the bakery where her son works was surrounded by demonstrators objecting to the cakes with Schwartz Piet on them. The windows were broken, and the cakes were destroyed. She was very indignant that immigrants were misinterpreting the symbolism of Schwartz Piet, and condemning a holiday tradition dating from the mid-1850’s, rooted in a kids’ storybook (a lot like The Night Before Christmas for us). The incident was emblematic of why she is suspicious of immigrants coming into the Netherlands and upsetting everything - driving up rental housing prices and taking advantage of the social safety net before they start paying taxes. Very familiar complaints for an American from California which is not a majority caucasion state.

Sinterklaas day is December 5. I had my hair cut on February 13 in a local shop in Duindorp. The hairdresser was super nice, speaks great English, and was very chatty. She wanted to know why I moved here, all about Midge, how I am doing with the cold weather, etc etc. But into the middle of that very friendly conversation, she got very agitated about the reaction to Black Pete! Reminding me that Americans have Santa and the Elves (Elves!), and asking what is the difference! I was astonished that the Black Piet controversy has such staying power, but it is obviously a touchstone for anti-immigrant sentiment.

I went to the protest yesterday because I want to speak out against how MAGA is deploying ICE in the United States, but also because it was an opportunity to meet new people and renew acquaintances I made at the women’s march in January. But as I walked with the group around downtown Den Haag, I reflected on what it means to be an immigrant. Again, I came here to live in another culture, and I want to participate. I did not flee economic uncertainty and racial oppression.

I’m pondering the difference, and trying to put words to all the myriad feelings and thoughts this situation brings up. I experience strong anti-immigrant, although - so far - no specific anti-American, sentiment in my neighborhood. If anything, people in my neighborhood think tr*mp has the right idea vis a vis immigrants at least. (No so much Jeffrey Epstein.) I want to be accepted and make friends in my new home. I believe that the immigrants I have met (I’m the only regular US attendee in my Dutch class - there others are from Egypt, Afghanistan, Greece, Mexico, and South Africa) are here because conditions in their home countries propelled them to western Europe, and some of them are refugees from life threatening situations.

Are the enemies of my enemies my friends? Are the friends of my enemies my enemies? As I try to make friends here, will I make enemies of the friends I have?

Welcome to the Year of the Horse in Den Haag.

(photo credit to my friend Karol who was at a Lunar New Year’s party with a balcony vantage of the street)

Last week I went to visit a friend in Dartington in Devon County in the Southwest of England. I flew from Schipol Airport near Amsterdam. Schipol is a pretty big airport, and I got there by taking a bus from across the street from my apartment in Den Haag to the Central Station, and hopping on a Sprinter which stopped in Leiden, and then Schipol before heading into Amsterdam Central. The whole trip was about an hour.

The station at Schipol has little kiosks where you can either tap into or out of the area where the trains are, and it’s immediately adjacent to the airport. I navigated through the airport, bought a UK:EU plug adapter, skirted around a Starbucks, and headed down an escalator into a kind of dungeony waiting area where the KLM flights to small UK cities (Belfast, Inverness, Aberdeen, Glasgow) are located. I was headed to Exeter.

There were 92 seats on the plane - all full on a Thursday. On the train to the airport, I sat next to a guy from Singapore who lives in Soho in NYC. He’s a pilot for private planes. On the plane I sat next to an Austrailian woman going from Nice, France to Plymouth, UK; she sews and repairs the cushions on private yachts in the Riviera. So two regular folks who serve the super rich. Both of them said that they are invisible to the people they work for - never a “Hi, how are you” as the .001% goes about their business and pleasure travels.

The Exeter airport is pretty small; it reminded me of the BART Station at El Cerrito Plaza, except with 3 immigration desks. With so few people on the plane, we were through immigration in about 10 minutes, and my checked bag was already circling around the baggage claim area, which is about the size of the area between the escalators at the BART station.

Out the door, onto the bus to the station in Exeter, onto a train towards Plymouth that stops in Totnes, where the taxi was waiting to take me the last mile and a half. There’s only 1 plane a day, but if I go in the summer, it will still be light when I get there, and I’ll be able to walk to Dartington.

I was there on an errand of mercy. My friend had just had her second knee replacement, and, as a knee replacement patient expert, I was there to help. Her recovery was amazing. She had had a deep tissue massage the day before her surgery. I was there surgery +2 days, and she was already bending to 90 degrees! And very little swelling. Her surgeon and the nurses were all very impressed with her progress. She did some research and found that there is a strong correlation between pre-op massage and a good recovery. So any of you who haven’t already had your knees replaced, keep that in mind.

Dartington is definitely a great example of Blake’s “green and pleasant land” with moss covered walls, and rolling pastures.

But Dartington is more than scenic vistas. There is a pervasive consiousness of stewardship of the environment.

For instance,

And several civic projects

Landworks provides transtional job training for people making important transitions. There’s a gift store with hand made cutting boards, chutney, dish towels, etc.

Local businesses are part of the overall mind set

And it’s not just a Texaco station - if you enlarge the photo, you’ll see hand made chocolates and a local produce shop

I walked to the Pizza place on Saturday, and noticed it is very dark at night. I learned that Dartington is a “light reduced” village in order to preserve a home for the bats.

The pizza was amazing

And there were Italian themed desserts

I took a long walk, past the Churchyard, which also contributes to the overall community aesthetic

And it right across the street a sign that encourages health for the living also

I walked up a long hill to Dartington Hall, where there is an extensive garden. Even in late January, there were snow drops

The estate was renovated and opened up to the public by Leonard and Dorothy Elmhirst Dorothy Elmhirst was an American philanthropist and social activist. She was one of the wealthiest women in the United States in early 20th century. After her first husband died of the flu in the 1918 epidemic, she met Leonard Elmhirst when he was studying agriculture at Cornell University. They set out to recreate Dartington Hall as a nurturing community resource. She died in 1968, but had a very modern sensibility.

Various donors showed their apprecation by donating artwork to the grounds like this

and this Henry Moore sculpture

which looks over a row of yew trees that have just been pruned to regenerate them, and next to 400 year old chestnut trees

There are two excellent cafes, and I had lunch in one

That’s a sugar free hot chocolate, which was also sweetener free. It was delicious, but the salad, of local greens from the garden at the nearby school, was extraordinary. Simple greens, with a light dressing, but so fresh, and clean tasting. And the ham sandwich was locally sourced, and of course the bread. All for about 11 pounds, which, before Tr*mp tanked the US economy, would have been pretty reasonable.

I took a foot path back down the hill

and I did get a little lost. I missed a turn, and ended up being warned not to proceed because it was a riding center, and the horses should not be disturbed. OK, I turned around, and the next thing I knew, “Caution - stay on the other side of the fence” because the cows are wandering around and could get aggressive.

I managed to navigate past the pasture, and did run into some mud

and had to climb over the tree that had fallen across the path. I only fell once, but there was so much mud on my shoes and pants, that I had to undress in the back yard before going into the house when I got back.

I defintely want to go back. In spring and summer there will be banks of flowers, and more hours of daylight. Let me know if you want to join me for a ramble through Devon one of these days.

There’s a pair of places by the harbor - typical Dutch fare at Oma Toos, and across the street at Opa Pinos, there’s dessert and hot drinks. Hot drinks always come with a little biscuit or piece of candy, and at Opa Pinos, a little cone.

The food at Oma’s is good, but as always in the Netherlands, not exactly as expected. Knowing that the northern states in the US were settled by hardy settlers from Sweden, Germany, Norway and the Netherlands, I looked forward to a hearty beef stew. But it came as a bed of deliciously cooked vegetables, with a fan of sliced beef and a side dish of gravy, kind of a deconstructed stew.

In front of the Jumbo Supermarket there’s a Lumpia Truck! We’ve have chicken and vegetable lumpia, as well as chicken pockets.

The truck is a self-contained unit, and the fragrance of frying lumpia is irrestible! And yes, those are the real prices!

There’s a wonderful cafe about 10 minutes walk from our place called Thrive.

I took that photo last week when it was about 45 degrees F; there was no one lounging outside, but inside it was totally hopping. I got the coconut curry pea soup.

It came with chewy bread and little pot of fresh butter. Midge was under the table, searching optimistically for crumbs. Like most restaurants, Thrive allows dogs inside; there was also a big Saint Bernard sitting across from us.

Sadly, the Chinese food we’ve had here has not been very good. BUT, there are a few Uighur restaurants, and I’ve been to one a couple of times.

The dry friend stringbeans were awesome, the special Uyghur rice with mutton and sauce was a little gamey, and had a bit too much cumin for me. But the salad was great, and the noodles wtih sauce, beef and vegetables were fantastic. The noodles are made on site, and are chewy and have a lot of flavor. Also, we asked for spicy, and it was really cooked in spice, not just a few squirts of siracha on top of bland.

I really like going to this place, and not just for the food. I was happy to support a Uyghur family with a family business in the Hague. Given what we hear about the oppression bordering on genocide of these people, it felt special to me to be in that restaurant. The decor was pretty minimal - a few hats, some little bits of textile, and a picture. The people cooking and serving were really nice, and enthusiastic about talking about their cuisine. I had never had Uyghur food before. In the Bay Area and New York, as well as the Boston area I have had a LOT of authentic food, and fusion food. Cuban Chinese, Korean Mexican, Armenian in both Watertown Massachusetts AND Fresno, ramen, Korean, Mexican, Guatamalan, Peruvian, lots of Southeast Asian, Mediteranean and North African - but this was my first chance to meet Uyghur people and taste their food.

I go to a deep water jogging class on Tuesdays, and emerge very hungry. Sadly, Tuesday is a day that many restaurants are closed! But there is a Dutch diner Zarautz that’s not to far from the pool, and OPEN. I’ve been there twice. I had the burger which was a big disappointment - more like a hockey puck and way too much mayo. But I also had a curried chicken “salad”; like the beef stew, kind of deconstructed. Lots of fresh vegetables, with slices of chicken and some slices of mango. Fresh and nicely presented. The curry was like the vermouth in a very dry martini - probably in the room while the salad was prepared, but not an actual flavor. All that was missing was the olive on a toothpick.

I am going to try to take more photos of food; I’ve never done that very much, but now that I’m telling all of you about the food here, I can see I don’t have enough illustrations.

I’ll definitely do better for Round 4. Until then, bon appetite, or rather Eet smakelijk (unless eating like a snake is too much like The Little Prince?)

For one brief shinging Camelot moment, I knew where EVERYTHING was - my hat, my change purse, my credit card, my wallet, my keys, my measuring tape, BOTH pairs of gloves, and all of Midge’s shoes!

And most importantly, MIDGE!

Because yesterday, she got lost! We were at the beach, where I have been allowing her unleashed time to run.

She has been very reliable about coming when I reach my hand down and tell her to “Touch”, and yes, there is always a treat.

But yesterday, I was getting ready to head home, I fumbled for the leash, and she took off in the other direction!

I went after her, but soon lost her in the distance. Shouting “Midge, Midge, touch touch” I tried to catch up but soon couldn’t see her at all.

Using Google translate, I memorized the phrase

Heb je een kleine hond gezien? (Have you seen a small dog?)

Of course, the responses came in a cascade of Dutch! Since pretty much everyone here speaks English, I soon abandoned that phrase, and stuck with showing the photo and saying, “Have you seen this dog?

A young couple with a poodle pointed me towards a little speck, but when I got closer, it wasn’t Midge. So I headed in the other direction, and called Flynn.

As I chased after another little speck I had spotted in the distance, Flynn rushed towards the beach, and saw me waddleing along. I was showing the photo I had just taken to various other dog walkers, and getting a lot of sympathy, but no dog.

So Flynn headed back in the other direction, and I followed the little speck toward the nature preserve, and was calling and calling. I met up with another dog walker, and she had spoken to the couple with the poodle! At that moment, Flynn found us, and heard from her that Midge had last been seen running after a bicyclist heading towards the bus stop.

Flynn took off in that direction, and I dove into the parkland. Meanwhile, I was pelted with advice on my phone: there’s a lost pets website, offers to post her photo on facebook, lots and lots of sympathy. The famous Dutch reserve just melts in the face of a lost dog.

Meanwhile, it was starting to get dark, and colder. I was filling out the form on the lost pet website, when Flynn called and said, “She’s in my arms!”

Turns out the person on the bicycle was the guy with the poodle, and he had been following Midge and getting various updates from other dog walkers on the beach, the nature reserve, and the forest that borders the bus line.

Flynn had met up with him, and the two of them plunged into the forest, and came upon a group of people with a couple of unleashed dogs, who had surrounded Midge and were keeping her from running off. The crowd parted as flynn approached (Like the red sea!” they said.) And there was Midge, sitting on the forest floor, wide eyed and shaking. Of course, the unleashed dogs freaked her out, and she took off.

But when Flynn said, “Touch!” she bounded over and jumped into their arms. That’s when I got the call, “She’s in my arms.” Of course, I burst into tears, and rushed to meet them at the bus stop so Flynn didn’t have to carry her all the way home.

And here she is

Just hanging out under my desk. As happy as I am to have her back, I’m a little sad that her off leash adventures on the beach are probably over. Luckily, there are some fenced areas near the canal closest to our house where I’ll be able to let her run and explore without fear that she’ll get too far away.

I am having a fantastic adventure settling in a new place, learning a few words in a new language, meeting new people, the food, the customs, etc. But Midge and writing to you in this blog keep me from feeling unmoored from my self.

I’m currently reading CARELESS PEOPLE, A Cautionary Tale of Power, Greed, and Lost Idealism by Sarah Wynne Williams. I’m still in the first third of the book, where she’s struggling with Sheryl Sandberg and Mark Zuckerberg to make Facebook the place where people connect. Of course things have progressed since then, and we have more and more ways to stay connected, while Facebook has become a place for ads and cute dog videos with ads attached.

For me, as I take photos and try out phrases, I see your faces in my mind’s eye, and I’m so grateful to have friends reading this. The likes, the comments, the occasional reference in an email or text let me know that I’m still part of a wide ranging community of friends in this world which is made friendlier and smaller with cell phones and zoom and blogs, Facebook and Instagram.

Thanks for keeping me in your life, and know you are always with me in my heart.

Well, I wrong (both times.)

It started about 4 pm, with folks practicing.

Our neighbors were setting up for the evening, gathering material for bonfires.

Some got more elaborate

As it got darker, things started to liven up

The streets started to fill with smoke

And kids really had fun throwing firecrackers into the bonfires

It amazes me that none of the people I’ve met are missing fingers or eyes!

I took this photo from my terrace

There was something glorious about it

This is just people celebrating in their own neighborhood, not a municipal display

But Midge had a tough time

She did better like this

And the next day there was a lot of this

But then it rained, and then it snowed

And a whole new world opened up for Midge. Can’t wait for her snow booties to arrive - I’ll be sure to share that with you!

I was trying really hard to summon up the detachment to sell it or give it away. Finally I checked out how much it would cost to ship, and realized I didn’t have to rip the bandaid off so brutally. I could actually send it and a few bankers boxes of books, dishes, etc., and take some possessions that actually give me joy with me into my new life.

My apartment comes with no closets, but a pretty generous array of cupboards in the kitchen, as well as a small storage/utility room and an actual locked storage space in the basement. I have a little step stool, but the upper shelves in my kitchen are empty, and I’m using the basement storage for the empty bankers boxes, and the cardboard from the 3 IKEA things (2 wardrobes, and the guest room bed), and there’s still a ton a room leftover. So although I brought about 30 cubic feet of boxes, I still have lots of blank walls and empty cupboards.

I think I’ve written about how the windows facing the sidewalks here often hold little displays. Walking down the street offers a viewscape into people’s living rooms and kitchens. There’s a Dutch thing about not “hiding” behind curtains, a kind of “we have nothing to hide” attitude, that’s a little hard for me to get used to. There is a countervailing trend, which is to make window displays which effecitvely conceal your day-to-day doings, while still sharing something about yourself.

In my trove of shipped things, I found a folder of drawings by Kip’s mother of trees. And I had used a towel with a verse from my favorite Beatles’ song to wrap dishes, which has a tree on it. (My dishes made by my brother, the towel from my sister - lots of joy there!)

A good combination of privacy and sharing! I’ve gotten compliments on this window from neighbors.

Other than the kitchen counter and a light over the kitchen sink, my apartment was empty. There are fabulous thrift stores here (kringloopen), and they have lots of furniture. Flynn had gotten me a black couch, and white walls and gray kitchen cabinets gave me a palatte for getting more things.

Here’s my living room:

My Tshirt quilt adds a lot of color

And here’s my desk - I think my mom would be as glad as I am that I brought it

The hall is where I’m displaying my Underdog memorabilia

And, as promised, the guest room

And another view of the guest room

I still have to get the curtains in the living room right. But I decided to share my place as a work in progress.

Oh, here’s the kitchen

The impetus for the final push to get things done was:

I hosted a gathering of the Democrats Abroad Women’s Caucus!

We had had a zoom meeting with about 40 people, and even though the holidays were upon us, one of the caucus members wanted to have an in person brainstorm session. I offered my place, and so I had to get things actually set up. A few more coffee cups and a coffee pot from the kringloopen, some milk and sugar, and I was ready.

The second impetus, I had sleepover house guests. Flynn’s partner was visiting from Scotland, and her dad, step mom and little sister were traveling from Boston to Greece and wanted to see her. So they came here, and dad, step mom and sister stayed with me in my guest room! The bed, closet, towels etc. have all been tested and approved by actual guests.

My bedroom is still a little sketchy. I bought a wardrobe from a fellow tenant who is moving out. It’s kind of massive; so massive, that it wouldn’t fit into the lift to bring it downstairs from his place to mine. (I think he put it together in the room where he kept it.) So it’s in pieces, but as soon as it’s together, and my clothes etc are stored somewhere besides my windowsill, I will share photos of my bedroom.

In the meantime, more kitchen

Me and house guests out for a night time stroll down at the other end of the beach

And a shot of playing behind our building

When I walk on the beach, I wonder why anyone would object to having windmills in their view of the water.

It’s so inspiring to see those graceful fingers and know that they are creating sustainable energy!

Today Tr*mp signed legislation to remove the lower milage requirements for cars sold in the US, and to promote gas powered cars. This is a continuation of rolling back fuel efficiency standards and de-funding projects to create more sustainable energy alternatives. Living here - where there are wind farms in view from the windows of luxury hotels on the beach, where there are subsidies to put double and triple pane windows into centuries old buildings, where there are car charging parking spaces on every street for electric cars, where bicycle travel is omnipresent and there are bike lanes on all major streets and bikes have the right of way EVERYWHERE (keep your head on a swivel when crossing the street; bikes have the right of way over pedestrians) - and to know that the United States is dragging the market back to fossil fuel, makes me feel the insult to this country very deeply.

The Dutch have been using wind power for centuries! First to mill flour, and now to power electric cars! This is a country of competent people. For instance, none of the Dutch people I’ve met think it’s at all strange to expect tenants to install overhead lights in our apartments! So of course, if the wind is there for free, use it to make things, like flour and electriciy.

And to have fun. The higher wind means higher surf.

There are wet suits hung out on various balconies, and I’m impressed that people can ride their bikes and carry their surfboards. Surfing is very common here, even though the water is pretty cold. I saw someone changing from his wet suit to clothes on the beach. He did get completely naked; way more surprising to me was how he was standing on the sand, not needing to hold on to anything for balance, while he put on his pants on one leg at a time. With the wind howling around him!

And here’s a kite

Those white puffs in this little video are not flowers; they are the undersides of the leaves which are being blown inside out by the wind.

But inside my apartment, with my multi-pane windows and my solar powered radiant floor heat, I’m pretty snug. And so is Midge.

And yes, those flowers were in my living room in Oakland. Our stuff finally arrived, and I’ve started nesting. Hoping to get my curtains up, and finish setting things up soon. Next time, photos of my new place.