Too Much Wine

I hope this doesn't sound too mean-spirited. It was really all in fun. But I'm about to make fun of the sommolier who hosted a wine tasting I attended in Brussels. I can't help it. He was a Frenchman who seemed to take a sip of wine everytime we did -- which equalled four rounds of  "sampling" five or six wines each. We were all pretty tipsy.

At first, I was completely enraptured by the fact that I was at a wine tasting in Belgium. A real, live Frenchman was talking about French wines and it was suddenly all so accessible. This was the real thing. But the wine went to my head fast, and I soon became too amused by the sommolier's speech impediment(?) to learn anything about the wines.  He couldn't say his "r's". They came out like "w's" and it was a little too much like Elmer Fudd talking about wed wines and white wines and wealwy good westauwants.

He started out by bellowing, "You'we all dwinking poison! That's what wine is, you know."

That's the last message I paid attention to. I spent the rest of my time not to let the wed wine send me spiralling into giggles. Today I'm switching back to the Belgian cherry beer, Kriek. It's better tasting, and not quite so amusing.

Dutch Windmill

I could only capture this 17th century Dutch windmill

through the rainy glass of a bus window

 as I travelled through Holland. But somehow

 it seems fitting: austere, beyond my grasp. It

belongs to another world that I cannot actually touch.

It makes me think of Van Gogh.

Guest Post: Vacation Bible School

by JoJo McGuire

I recently had the privilege of taking my 5^th grade daughter to Vacation Bible School (VBS). For those of you who do not know about VBS, it is a weeklong “school” in which children attend a few hours per day, normally at night, and learn about the Bible and Jesus. (It also helps the parents have a few hours away from their children since it is during summer vacation.) Kids normally learn a passage from the Bible each day and hear stories that reinforce the chosen passage. They also learn a LOT of songs.  These songs, often sung as loudly as possible, help reinforce the lesson of the day and the message of the week. Normally it is comprised of “Jesus Loves You- You Should Do as Jesus Asks- Love Each Other- Obey Your Parents-Pray Every Night.” And, best of all, VBS is free.

Watching the closing of each day’s lessons, I couldn’t help but think back to my own experiences of VBS. With seven kids in my family, my parents had to try to entertain us as cheaply as possible. During the summer, that became harder and harder to do as the days wore on. There were only so many games of kick the can, tag, and hide and seek that could be played. By the end of June, we were bored.  Enter VBS. 

My parents would load the youngest five of us into a van the size of a freight truck, cart us to that year’s chosen VBS and send us on our way. My siblings and I listened as my parents drove off, their muffler heard a mile away, hoping that we would at least be put in the same groups. Most of the time we were separated. It didn’t matter though. We always had fun. Heck, I continued to go to VBS and church camp until I was a sophomore in high school and got a job.

Although those who know me do not believe it, I was always a shy person. But in VBS, you don’t have a chance to be shy or introverted. You are immediately divided up into age appropriate groups and herded off to play, have a snack, learn, make new friends and develop crushes. I can remember to this day the feeling of camaraderie that was developed, the friends made, and the promises to stay in contact. (Much harder back then than it is now.) The whole process of VBS is to show kids that they are not alone and that they can learn about God, Jesus and the Bible and still have fun in life. I did not realize it at the time but I do now. It was a great experience that I am glad my parents took us to each year.

Remembering all of these experiences and feelings, I could not help but smile as I pulled into the church lot and saw my daughter running around, smiling and laughing, ponytail flying behind her. I noticed that most of the kids in her group were new and she probably did not know them. (She can be shy like I was and I am always amazed and grateful to see her outside of her comfort zone and interacting with others.) I arrived a few minutes early so I took in the scene. There were at least 50 kids attending that night and they were all giggling, shrieking and playing. I wondered if my daughter had developed any crushes. (She is at the age where she does not tell me much about that anymore.)

As they were herded into the sanctuary, I noticed that all of the VBS leaders were teenagers with a few college kids sprinkled in. This is a new concept; one that I think is great. The church asks a youth group from an affiliated church in another state to help run VBS with some college students. They stay at the church all week and are chaperoned by a few adults. I think of how much easier it is for the kids to relate to other young adults. My daughter proves this every night, talking about her youth leaders and the new friends she has made.

As I listened to the closing part of the “school” for the day, I was grateful that the VBS was not run as a fear factory. I have heard stories of people leaving other VBS in tears; afraid that they or their parents will burn in hell. I do not want religion “scared” into anyone. It should be explained and taught. Why scare a child into fearing something which should be loved and respected?

At my daughter’s VBS, they end with a recap of the day’s lesson and Bible verse followed by a youth group member “witnessing” or explaining how they came to be a Christian. No Hell Fire and Brimstone from an adult looking down physically on a child, just straight talk from one kid to another. Then, the last “leader” speaks. He is a college student who immediately jumps to his feet and tells everyone to jump up and grab their air guitars. All of the students scream and do as they are told. The music starts and all of the kids and leaders start into the loudest rendition of a church song I have ever heard. They are smiling, laughing and singing at the top of their lungs. Even the parents are enjoying the show.

This is how it should be in church.  Kids having fun.  Not being told that others are going to Hell if they don’t believe. Singing, not chastising. Laughing, not crying. The whole time learning, not being lectured to. I hope she will remember this fondly: the friends, the leaders and the songs. Watching her brings back memories.

Flying First Class

I took this picture with my arm stretched out behind me.
Couldn't do that in coach! Note the linens and china.
You can also see my shoes. My legs are fully extended.

I usually fly coach, so was totally unprepared for the class shock of suddenly finding myself in first class on an international flight. I'd spent a frustrating day at several airports being re-routed from one flight to another and put on delay after delay. The flight staff were as frustrated as the hundreds of travellers stranded and sent to stand in line after line, myself included.

Then suddenly, I was the last person boarding the plane for Europe and was guided to my seat in first class. Here's what it was like:

I was greeted by not one, not two, but THREE flight attendants who called me by name, handed me a travel essentials bag, asked for my cocktail order and what newspaper I would like. After a day of being told "no," and "there's nothing I can do; you'll have to stand in line," I nearly cried at the sudden kindness. Seriously. I was exhausted and nearly cried. But I didn't.

I sat back with my water (a headache prevented me from ordering a cocktail) and waited for the flight attendant to collect it since we were about to take off. But they didn't. In first class you get to keep your drinks the whole time.

Then the flight attendants came around with menues. Menues!! I chose shrimp cocktail, salad with viniagrette dressing, fish with plum sauce, plantains, and green beans. I could have had steak, but did I mention it was 11:00pm and I'd scarfed down a McDonald's hamburger about an hour before? Another flight attendant came around with steaming hot towels so that we could all freshen up. It felt like heaven. I wiped off 13 hours worth of airport grime and then ordered another glass of water.

Moments later the flight attendant came around and set our tables. This was absolutely verging on bizarre. I unfolded my tray table (which was not attached to the back of the seat in front of me) and she covered it with a linen tablecloth. I kid you not! Linen! She set a linen napkin with a full set of silverware on my table: 3 forks, a knife, and 3 spoons. Then she then brought me a dish of warm roasted peanuts. Warm! Roasted! This was a far cry from the paltry pack of peanuts I could have bought on my last flight if we'd had enough time between turbulence and 'fasten seatbelt' warnings.

Now, I'm about to get whiny, so go ahead and hate me. But remember, I was exhausted, and it was nearly  midnight, and I still had a full day of rerouted flights and layovers ahead of me, not to mention the time change coming. So, I found myself facing a first class dilemma: partake of all these luxuries? Or sleep?

I opted to eat my food as quickly as possible, skipping dessert (I could have had creme brulee!) and trying to sleep for the remaining three hours before they woke me to serve breakfast. (If you don't hate me by now, you never will.)

So - sleeping accommodations. Well, it was no 3/4" reclining seat like in coach. And my personal space was not impacted in any way by the person reclining in front of me. I had my very own area that had so much leg room that I couldn't even reach the foot rest (ottoman) until I reclined my seat the full 180 degrees. Which I did. I turned off my personal TV (I had my pick of shows, movies, games or music) and laid back with my down blanket and pillow. I set my glasses on the nightstand beside me and went to sleep.

Three blissful hours later I awoke to the announcement that it was time for breakfast. We had an hour until we landed and then were ushered off the plane before everyone else. It was unreal. I can't believe they didn't offer full massages while we were flying up in those suddenly-friendly skies. First class was definitely first class all the way.

Well, not all the way. Unfortunately, after my next 4-hour layover, I found myself back where I really belonged - in coach, pondering whether or not to spring for a bag of peanuts, which were sure to be room temperature, at best.

I Oughta Be In Pictures

 
I don't know how I do it. I have stumbled upon another movie shoot. I have previously shared my pictures from shoots in Chicago and New Orleans. This time, I'm at the Grand Place in Brussels, Belgium.

I watched production for a while and then asked one of the cameramen what they were filming. His accent was thick, but I did understand that it was an Italian film. When I asked him the title, he said, "Exa." Maybe X? Then he said "Prima." I guess he's talking about the film.

I watched for a while longer, shaking my head at my dumb luck. They changed scenes and brought new people onto the cafe stage to be background extras. I started to wonder why they never pick me? Maybe it's because I look so stupidly starstruck with my mouth hanging open and my camera constantly in my face.

I will look for this foreign film sometime in the future. Maybe it's called "X", maybe not. I'll try to recognize the Italian movie star that I probably should have been awed by.

Street Food in Amsterdam

With only three hours to explore Amsterdam, I spent my time walking and walking and walking. The city is beautiful; the architecture, the crowds, the ambience of a vibrant city full of people from all over the world. I loved it. So I didn't want to waste a moment of my time sitting in a restaurant when there was still so much to see. Instead, I opted for street food. The most popular item seemed to be frites (French fries). There were competing frites stands everywhere, even side-by-side.

Though there were many frites toppings available (ketchup, curry, cheese, mustard), by far the most popular seemed to be mayo. In fact, several frites stands boasted their own special sauce (doctored-up mayo). So, I did what everyone else did: I ordered mine with mayo and received a cone full of frites and a tiny wooden spork to fish out the last few frites from the bottom of the cone. It was delicious! I walked around with my treat and explored more of Amsterdam. I forgot to see how many of these frites stands were next to the multitude of coffee shops where I'm sure most of the people emerging had the munchies. Let's just say the number of coffee shops and frites stands were about even.

5 Hour Delay

My husband has a 5-hour layover during an upcoming trip and wonders what he'll do to pass the time. As someone who just had a 5-hour airport delay (shortly followed by another 4-hour delay), I can share how other people passed the time.

1. Drinking - the bars were packed!

2. Playing with electronics - as long as the batteries hold out, you're good.

3. Arguing with flight crew. That didn't get anyone anywhere. Literally.

4. Shopping.

5. Taking turns walking up and down the terminal. This only works if you're travelling with someone who can stay put and watch your bags. Otherwise, it's too much of a hassle.

6. Making numerous phone calls and working on your laptop.  I think a lot of people got a lot of work done.

7. Cry -   There were more than a few frustrated travellers who'd had all they could take.

8. Sleep -  if you're one of the lucky few who can in a crowded airport.

9. Yoga -  I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it for myself, but one woman did a good 20 minutes of yoga at her seat.

10 Watch someone doing yoga  -  because if someone around you is doing it, trust me - you can't help but watch.