The Indian summer air shimmies through the wide boulevard of the Meir – leaves on the towering trees dance. Shop lights glow in the twilight as the final shoppers are deposited, hands full of bags and eyes wide with excitement – the Saturday evening beckons. My dress bounces around my knees and high heels click on the pavement I’ve so often passed over – always pushing a stroller laden with cups, snacks, and a discarded jacket, shoe, or both. Tonight, a tiny gold purse dangles from my wrist. Freedom. I grab my husband’s suited arm and we sashay towards the
The day, thick and heavy with grey drizzle irritates like a soaked wool blanket. My restless children cling to my sides, whiny and needy from being inside all day. I shiver – trying to shake off the damp creeping from under the gap in my patio door. I shake – trying to free myself from the children. My task of the week – toilet training my 2-year-old – was a failure, cleaning up messes off the floor, dragging rugs out to the porch to be hosed off, and washing his hands after playing in his own pee. A true holiday
Trees as thin and packed as matchsticks line the one-lane gravel road. Shafts of silver light pierce the forest. The GPS arrow hovers above a green blob on the map, and the indicator on the dash says “offroad”. A crooked tiny sign points to the left and our small caravan follows. The rocks and potholes challenge my Skoda sedan, but determined, it climbs toward the invisible destination – De Kluis, (Dutch for “The Safe”). A comforting name for a campsite. “Places in Belgium are hard to find, period,” my husband admitted a week earlier, “I can’t imagine trying to find
Pop-tarts, Oreos, & Beef Jerky. These little goodies are what the USA is known for outside of the USA. Oh and marshmallows. Who knew marshmallows were so American. Some grocery stores in Europe have a USA section. This is the USA section of the Carrefour close to our home in Belgium. Awesome isn’t it? Additional confession: The “American marshmallows” are often sold in packages with white and pink dyed marshmallows. Excited to find marshmallows and rice krispies in the Netherlands, I whipped up a batch of Rice Krispie treats. The result? I had Rice Krispie treats that looked like ground
Confession: Grocery shopping in Belgium is a lesson in three languages – Dutch, French, and German.
Confession: I saw this couple holding hands through a park in Gent and it made me really happy.
Confession: Belgians eat a lot of mussels. Like, steamed in a pot with a sauce. And there’s about 100 different sauces to choose from. Additional confession: After living here eight months, I still haven’t tried them