I won! And I've written my first novel!

It is 2.41am on Wednesday 30 November and I've written a book in 30 days.
Oh, it's rubbish, absolute rubbish and 50000 words. Exactly.

But at least I can tell my kids that I wrote my first novel at 31 years of age. And that it's never too late.

I'm going to start a 'real' novel on 1 January. (What a nice new year's resolution!)

Yayayayayayay!

Sinterklaas came ... for a little visit

We woke up yesterday and found some presents on our runners.

Edwin said that the letter "E" is heavier than the letter "J", so that's why I got more presents.
He also said that the best letter to have is "W", so maybe in a few (five/ten) years' time we should call our first born Wally if it's a boy, or Wilhemena if it's a girl ... for purely chocolate-motivated reasons.

Riding along on my push bike honey!

Yesterday Edwin and I went for a little bike ride. It only lasted about, what was it, 4 hours.
Stats
Kilometres travelled: approximately 30 - 40km (actually, no idea)
Villages traversed: 4; Eindhoven - Valkenswaard - Waalre - Aalst
Number of cows sighted: approx 19
Number of grannies and granpdas overtaken: 4 x couples
Medieval historical sword fight re-enactments witnessed: 1
Light tour apparatus spotted: various - the Eindhoven "Glow" festival is on now and we saw a number of light fixtures in streams/canals/gardens throughout Eindhoven. They would look much better at night.
Snack range consumed: licorice all sorts x numerous, chocolate letter "J" x 1, small bananas x 2, bottled water
Stops: Listers restaurant for hot chocolate (with cream) x 1, hot chocolate (without) 1 x, apple pie (with cream) x 2 , bitter lemon x 2
Photographs taken: 37 (ratio of silly to serious - 3:1)
Scarecrows counted: 1
Number of totally un-staged monos:1
Number of times getting lost: 1 (standard)
Number of times cursing Edwin for getting us lost in boggy autumn-leave covered scrub: numerous
Hunger degree achived: Edwin 11/10, Jane 10/10
Amount that rear ends hurt: Ed, a lot; Jane has special bike saddle, therefore Jane, nil.

Watch this space

All right, the silence on the blog for the past week needs explanation.

Oh, it's hard to actually type the words. But I'll just blurt it out on paper.

I'm writing a novel.

I have taken up what could be described as an online dare, i.e. National Novel Writing Month, or Nanowrimo for short. It's a program originating in the States somewhere, challenging participants to write a novella of 50,000 words during the month of November.

Check out the number of words on the icon above. The figure will be updated as I go along.

My book is something akin to a really poor great niece to the second cousin of Bryce Courtenay's Jessica, or perhaps if you envisage an extended version of McLeod's daughters in 2D (in the literal sense, as in "on paper"), then that's the sort of ... thing ... I've been producing. (My theory is that writing this novel over a period of 30 days may kill more brain cells than a month of big nights out! Aheh.)

But one thing is certain. While I have confirmed any suspicions that I have no serious novel writing gift, I do know deep down inside that I can write 50,000 words. Fifty thousand words of marvellously purple prose, melodramatic story lines starring outrageous, predictable and stereotypical characters whose names and backstories I haven't noted down and can't remember!

But don't get excited. No one, not even Edwin, is going to read the novel. He may be allowed to read the next one ... yes, I am going to do this thing again!

Despite the sleepless nights concocting a plot and trying to manufacture dialogue that isn't forced / unnatural / cringeworthy / pointless / unbelievable, day-dreaming over whether I could make it all end with my main character waking up from a dream/the whole novel was the last 10 seconds of her life, or staring into space thinking about what my characters might say right now, or choose to wear, even though, wait a minute, have I described this character yet? Is this character me/my mum/Edwin/the lady at the post office in disguise?

I'm going bananas! Only 10 days to go!!!!!

Inburgering, or integrating

By some freak-coincidence, I have double booked myself. For someone who has few friends, no job, and no real responsibilities, it's quite a feat to have done this.

A part of my preparations to marry a Dutch national requires that I become integrated into Dutch society. This means doing a Dutch exam on the language, society and job opportunities. If I fail my exam, I have to go to school for 3 hours a day for 1 - 1.5 years. As you can appreciate, I don't really want to do that. It will get in the way of my learning the language, society and basically getting a full-time job.

So I shall sit this integration, I mean inburgering test, to pass it and ensure that I don't have to go back to school.

The test is tomorrow. At 9am. But I also have another very important appointment at 10.30am.

It's at another place of learning, Look Beautyinstitute, for a 90 minute facial. Ah, priorities, and dilemmas etc!

Anyway, since arriving in the Netherlands (on 21 November, I'll have been here 3 months), I have taken some lessons in the language, and have secured a job. But what do I know about Dutch society? So, I decided to do this National integration test: http://www.teleac.nl/nationaleinburgeringtest/#

Try it if you want, but you need to be able to read Dutch.

I got 3,8. Out of 10.

In an attempt to console myself, I kept thinking that most Dutch people failed this test when it was run on national television. But panic overcame me and I got on the internet to do more inburgering tests online, simultaneously trying to memorise all 71 pages of the Dutch constitution as well as the map of the Netherlands (not!) ... when I got a phone call.

The dude I was supposed to take the ROC inburgering test is sick this week. Some poor schmuck has to call everyone he has appointments with, and cancel them.

What does this mean?

It means I can get to my facial appointment after all. Hooray!
It also means I do not have to go in tomorrow to sit the test and instead I can cram a bit more! Yay for me! (But not for Hans).

Mangoflappen

De andere dag hebben mijn toekomstig schoonouders mij een tweedehands oven gegeven. Leuk, hè?

Ik bak graag. Sinds ik in Nederland ben geweest, ik heb geen (geslaagd) bakken gedaan. Ik mis het wel. Als jullie weten eet ik zoet dingen ook graag, dus wilde ik deze oven proberen en iets lekker zoets koken.

Dus, gisterenavond maaktte ik "mangoflappen". Ze zijn een soort "appelflap", maar in plaats van appels heb ik mangos gebruikt. Logische. Zij waren erg makkelijk maken; ik had al de bladendeeg in de diepvries, en ik deed klein stukjes mango op elke blad, ik heb elke vierkant blad gevouwd in half om een driehoek te maken. Dan smeerde ik een beetje boter op een bakje, deed de mangoflappen op, en dan ten slotte heb ik gesprenkeld suiker bovenop. Na twintig minuten aan 225ºC waren zij klaar!
Gelukkig heb ik niet ze gebrand ... en waren ze lekker, toch!

Translation:

Mangoflappen
The other day my future parents-in-law gave me a second hand oven. Nice, hey?

I like to bake. Since I've been in the Netherlands, I haven't baked anything (sucessfully). I miss it. As you all know, I like to eat sweet things, so I wanted to try out this oven and cook something sweet.

So, last night I made "mangoflappen". They are a sort of "appelflap", but instead of apples I used mangos. Logical. They were easy to make. I already had the puff pastry in the freezer and I put small pieces of mango on each sheet, and I folded each square sheet in half to make a triangle. Then I smeared a bit of butter on a tray, put the mangoflaps on, and then finally I sprinkled sugar on the top. After tweny minutes at 225ºC they were ready!

Luckily I didn't burn them ... and weren't they yummy!

Sinterklaas has arrived!

This is how the Christmas caper works over here.

December 6 is the feast of St Nicholas, the protector of children. But in the Netherlands, it's Sinterklaas' birthday and the children get to celebrate it on the eve. The roles are reversed and Sinterklaas treats the children to presents.

Every year via national broadcast, everyone can see Sinterklaas arrive in the Netherlands - somewhere different every year. This year, the real Sinterklaas arrived in Middelburg. But as he can't be in more than one place at the same time, he has stand-ins that go to the other cities to help him out. At Eindhoven, four big kids - Sjoerd, Helga, Ed and I - went along to see the Sinterklaas "Eindhoven representative". We were pretty excited.

As this is a quite important event in the Netherlands, it's important that everyone gets a good view.

Same goes for the kids. (Hard core!)

St Nicholas was a bishop before he became a saint, so we often see him dressed in his bishop threads - i.e. staff, mitre and long snowy white beard. Here's one of the Eindhoven reps. This one's a fairly believable get-up, except she forgot the beard part.
Sinterklaas and his entourage enter the Netherlands on steam boats via canal. I think Sinterklaas normally brings his trusty horse Amerigo on this day, although I never saw him. But the parade usually requires a couple of boats, because of the volume of pressies to give. So he sends a boat before him (Sinterklaas knows how to make an entrance), which has his helpers on it -they are Zwart Pieten, Black Petes. These are usually a bunch of white guys with "golliwog" paint on and it's kind of un-PC, but you have to just go with it. The first vessel we see is loaded with all the presents, or "de pakjes". Yesterday Ed said "There's the boat of pakjes, and pointed at the boat with a whole lot of presents on it as well as a whole lot of black-faced white-people on it. I heard: "There's the boat of pakis". Ed had no idea why I hissed at him and then nudged him. Hard.

Sinterklaas "and co" come from Spain. No one knows why they're based there, that's just how it is. There he keeps a record of naughty Vs nice kids in a big red book, and Zwart Pieten make presents in time for 5 December. This weekend I saw no less than 3 Sinterklaases and about 40 Zwart Pieten arrive on various canals throughout Noord-Brabant. But gee, I feel like Christmas is coming!

From this day, kids will leave a shoe by the door with some straw and a carrot in it (for Amerigo), with poems and pictures they have made thanking Sinterklaas for coming to the Netherlands. Then they also leave a wish list of what they want for his birthday; some kids even gather the junkmail from previous weeks and circle the pressies they want. Commercial, yes, but also convenient!

On 5 December work and schools shuts down early, and people get home to find that Amerigo has taken the carrot and Sinterklaas now has his beautiful pictures, and that he's left presents in or around the shoes! And with your presents he'll have left a poem about the present and why it's right for you (it usually teases you a bit about your mannerisms and habits), as well as a chocolate letter for the first letter of your first name.

This is the most important day of the Christmas period for Dutch children. I'll be flying back early from London after vising Fi and Maya, on Tuesday 5 December to get out to Uden in time to await Sinterklaas with Ed's parents, Ed, his sister, her husband and their kids!

All very different to my Aussie childhood Christmas memories (mainly centred around 25 December and something to do with a baby in a manger, a star, some shepherds and three wise men). I'm up for it, though.

A split second

Saturday night was another of our monthly family evenings with Ed's parents and sister's family. It was a cosy night over at Sil and Fred's place. Chinese take-out, followed by playing with the kids and putting them to bed, crowned with a cuppa and chockies while watching Fred and Sil's recording of their wedding day. With directors commentary from the lead actors, we watched sections of the three-part DVD set.

By the time Ed and I left Uden, we were full of our own plans for our upcoming nuptials. While Ed negotiated the wet road and poor visibility that rainy autumn night, I fell into day-dreaming about our July 2007 wedding reception, and the potential novelty act my family may put on as part of the Dutch wedding reception tradition ...

then a terrible thing happened before our very eyes.

At a major intersection just on the outskirts of Eindhoven, a motorcyclist attempted to take a turn in front of an oncoming car in the opposite direction. Horribly, the man on the bike had misjudged the timing of his manoeuvre.

As though in slow motion, Edwin and I saw the car plough through the bike which then swept over on its side. The man was separated from his machine while the innocent (yet I'm sure guilt-riddled) car trundled off-road, into the highway gutter. Traffic piled up and phones everywhere were whipped out to call "112" emergency assistance for the fallen rider. Edwin got through and arranged for an ambulance.

Relieved, we saw that the injured man was intact although very groggy. He was helped by closer motorists to a sitting position. So Edwin and I grimly resumed the drive home.

Edwin asked me if I was all right. I said I was. But somewhere deep down, I wasn't.

All "this" could go in the blink of an eye. In any way at all. Only a week or so ago for some strange reason, I was thinking how devastating it would be should I ever lose Edwin. And then on Tuesday he had a terrifying loss-of-consciousness-seizure experience at the dentist where he was given too much anasthaetic. Sombre thoughts have come in and out of my mind since that day.

You see, I've been a bit stressed, a bit bossy, a bit of a bored-house-wife/shrew-cum-bridezilla. The accident made me question why I should fritter away truly precious time freaking out over a wedding 8 months away when I should be worrying about whether Edwin is recovering to full-tote health. How ludicrous to put any negative energy into planning for some fantasy "big day" when there are many run-of-the-mill, but really beautiful days (all big in their way) to be had between now and then.

Ah life. It can be beautiful, horrifying and overwhelming for the senses.

And we must not forget the power in there being only a split second between what we know and what we do not.

Got to savour every moment.

And every moment starts ...

now.

Friday night shenanigans

This is what it would look like if you put four people's scones on a stick, my impression of a "human-head kebab".
No, not really. But Charlotte, Youre, Ed and I had a great night out at the Eindhoven Popronde, a festival of pub gigs. We saw a singer-songwriter (above), a thrash metal thing, a ska group and the crowd favourite (although Charlotte had left by then, boo!) ... a rockabilly band! Yeehah!

The leaves have lost hold of their branches, as always

The Dutch northern Autumn, herfst, continues to be just gorgeous here.

(I blame the lighting for making my chin look Reese Witherspoonesque).

A week overdue, sorry Anke!

This is just a little entry about my new, dear friend Anke who moved from Frankfurt Germany, to Eindhoven Netherlands, to Atlanta USA, in just over two months. That meant packing and unpacking three houses. Gotta love that.

Last Tuesday we went for dinner to say "Bon voyage!" with Anke and her mum.

Ed enjoyed the evening so much, it's now all a bit of a blur to him! (Boom-boom!)

More fun to be had together in the new year.

From wannabee DIY dude to Mr Cool, in one weekend.

What happens to Edwin when he spends the working week in front of a computer and then one too many visits to Ikea gets him thinking he might be a handyman around the house after all?

Bless his cotton socks, he tries, yes, he tries.

What happens when we wonder, could this be Sir Ed, the missing Knight from the Round Table? We visit the hairdresser and hey, it's Ed, groovy cat, man about town and all!
Goddamn, he's smooth. Yeah. He's smoooooth.

Provenance

Two friends meet in Eindhoven, for a coffee or two.

Jane was born in Australia, only speaks English, a residual amount of Italian from primary/high school, some French from university and is now learning Dutch. She loves Vegemite, yoga, camping, cycling and meeting people. She now lives in the Netherlands.

Deanna is also originally from Australia, used to speak only English and learnt French really quickly about 2 years ago. She now lectures at a French university in French. She is an automotive engineer and has a PhD in it too. She can't eat Vegemite, but she likes any food without gluten, yoga, camping, cycling and meeting people. She now lives in France.

You might be picturing some quintessential Aussie sheilas, but instead you get this:

The marvel of diasporas is that you get people who look one way and then fill an unexpected profile. I love it.

It's cold outside!

So 1 November rolled around and the Netherlands didn't disappoint.

Went for a run yesterday arvo ... and I got hailed on.

This morning I was riding to yoga class and had to come back home to get gloves because I thought my fingers might break off on the way.

I need to buy some skivvies.