The Taylors in Europe

When I was a sophomore in college, I shared a dorm room with my cousin Julie and my best friend Mimi. Every time we had a major test coming up the next day, the 3 of us would spend hours rearranging our furniture. We would work well past midnight, moving the beds around and sweeping behind the desks. Somehow it seemed easier than actually studying.

I guess it stands to reason then that with 3 days left to go until my husband comes home on leave and with 2 months worth of dust coating all the junk that needs to get put away (if only there were someplace to put it!), that I would do a little housekeeping on the blog. I have gotten rid of the Photos section in my sidebar, as I have not posted anything there since that glorious day my Blogger account got upgraded and I was able to post photos directly into my posts.

Never fear though! Those photos are not lost forever. I have simply incorporated those pages into posts and stuck them into the blog in what I hope is reasonably correct chronological order. It's all there: Annabelle's 8th birthday at Legoland, our day trip to Speyer, our afternoon at the Luisenpark, as well as those first photos of our house.

Hmmm . . . now what else can I do besides dusting?

I took myself to Kinopolis this morning for a third viewing of Phantom of the Opera, or should I say Das Phantom der Oper. I enjoyed it just as much auf Deutsch
as I did the first 2 times in English, but I'm afraid things don't work out any better for the Phantom the third time around.

My sister and I disagree vehemently about this movie. I say the Phantom was misunderstood, pushed to the brink by an unfeeling world. I'm sure that had I been Christine, I could have rehabilitated him. Jenny, on the other hand, says that if SHE had been Christine, the movie would have been only 15 minutes long, as that's about the length of time it would have taken her to slap him with a restraining order.

For a taste of German Phantom (not to be confused with German Fanta, Annabelle's beverage of choice), click here. If they pester you to log in, tell them you're "bonnieblog" and that your password is "09086."

A few random notes on this morning's cinematic experience:

1. I love that you can buy beer at a German movie theater for an 11:00 show on a Sunday morning. I love that people DO, in fact, buy beer at a German movie theater on Sunday morning. I didn't, as I'm not much of a beer fan--I had apple juice instead--but I find the whole idea oddly appealing. It's nice to know that if I had WANTED a brewski, I could have had one. Unlike in San Antonio, TX, where they won't sell you beer before 2:00 p.m. on a Sunday even if you promise not to consume it until the evening.

2. The ads are always interesting at the movies here in Germany. Picture today's most memorable clip: A sexy young woman stands up wearing nothing but a black lace thong. Her long hair sweeps allurlingly down either side of her face, but it doesn't obscure the sight of her naked breasts as she saunters toward the camera. She reaches down and plucks a walnut from a bowl of nuts. With a come-hither look on her face, she turns to the side . . . places the nut between her butt cheeks . . . and squeezes, really hard. CRACK (pun 100% intended)! She removes the wrecked nut from her rear end and eats the meat. The sponsor? A fitness club. I tried really, really hard to find a link to this ad online, but alas, I had no luck.

3. It's always fun to see previews in German for movies I'm familiar with in English. It's even more interesting though to find out about original German films. Today I saw a preview for what looks like a really good movie, Barfuss (translated: "Barefoot"). Check the website for the preview; here's a translation of the synopsis:

Nick Keller is the black sheep of his family. He loses one job after another. His stepfather Heinrich and his brother Viktor consider him a failure. Only his mother believes in him.

At his new job in a psychiatric clinic, Nick prevents at the last minute the suicide of a young woman, Leila. When Nick leaves the clinic in the evening, she follows him home and all of a sudden stands in his kitchen, in her nightgown and barefoot.

Nick is at a loss. Leila will not let him bring her back to the clinic. She has decided to remain with him. Nick, who has never in his life taken responsibility for someone else, and Leila, who grew up totally isolated from the outside world, embark together on a trip that will change their lives.

Opening March 31, and on my list of Movies To See.

4. Every time I go near Kinopolis, I remind myself to blog the punk-rock baby who pops up in commercials and leers at us from a billboard on the side of the theater. Apparently, he's the mascot for a radio station. The kids and I call him "Scary Baby." Can you see why?

Perhaps you might remember back in December when I posted about my overwhelming jealousy of a blog I had recently discovered? I am now officially green with envy. Heather B. Armstrong, keeper of Dooce.com, along with her lovely baby Leta ARE FEATURED IN THE FASHION AND STYLE SECTION OF TOMORROW'S NEW YORK TIMES!!! Shoot me now. Please.

For those of you without an account with the Times, here's what they have to say about Dooce:

Heather B. Armstrong of Salt Lake City credits her blog, Dooce.com, with saving her sanity, if not her life. When it began in February 2001, Dooce was a collection of anecdotes about Ms. Armstrong's single life in Los Angeles, with provocative entries like "The Proper Way to Hate a Job" and "Dear Cranky Old Bitch Who Cut in Front of Me at Canter's Deli." After someone sent an unsigned, untraceable e-mail message about Ms. Armstrong's blog to her company's board in 2002, she was promptly dismissed, and "Dooced" entered Urbandictionary.com as a term for "Losing your job for something you wrote in your online blog, journal, Web site, etc."

A year later Ms. Armstrong married, moved back to Utah, gave birth to a daughter, Leta, and was soon after hospitalized for severe postpartum depression. Her moving, confessional entries from that time generated thousands of e-mail messages and, she said, helped speed her recovery.

Now about 40,000 people log on to read about Ms. Armstrong's efforts to break her daughter's binky habit and of her concern about swearing in front of Leta. Like most parent bloggers, Ms. Armstrong steals time at the computer when the child is napping, after the baby sitter arrives and late at night. She said she blogs at least 15 hours a week. "Dooce probably saved my life," she said. "The writing and voice I had let me hold onto part of the original and old Heather, something that being a mother and the depression couldn't take away."

You really should sign up for an account though and read the whole article. There are lots of links to other blogs that look very good. If I let myself start clicking now, I'll be up all night, so I'll have to save them for tomorrow.

If you haven't already, be sure to check out Dooce.com. I've said it before and I'll say it again: This is one chick who deserves a book contract.

I am undoubtedly a small-minded, petty person. How else to explain the glee that filled my soul last night when I saw that Dick Cheney is being criticized for his attire at the Auschwitz commemoration ceremony held earlier this week in Poland?

Robin Givhan, in a Washington Post article, described Cheney as "dressed in the kind of attire one typically wears to operate a snow blower." Here's the AP photo that proves it:



Givhan goes on to say:

Cheney stood out in a sea of black-coated world leaders because he was wearing an olive drab parka with a fur-trimmed hood. It is embroidered with his name. It reminded one of the way in which children's clothes are inscribed with their names before they are sent away to camp.

By the time Givhan got around to taking on Cheney's hat, I was cackling out loud:

Like other attendees, the vice president was wearing a hat. But it was not a fedora or a Stetson or a fur hat or any kind of hat that one might wear to a memorial service as the representative of one's country. Instead, it was a knit ski cap, embroidered with the words "Staff 2001." It was the kind of hat a conventioneer might find in a goodie bag.

It's obvious to me that Cheney's look was inspired by Walter Matthau and Jack Lemmon in their 1993 film Grumpy Old Men:



Or maybe it was the other way around. Because really, is there any person on this planet who looks grumpier than Dick Cheney?

Ah, sweet relief! Ever since we arrived home a little over 24 hours ago, I have been battling to get my internet connection reestablished. I was able to use my DSL modem to access AOL through their DSL service, but every time I connected I got a message that "there will be an extra charge for this connection." On top of that, using my laptop to sign on like that required that I sit perched like a bird on one of my uncomfortable dining room chairs. Life is so much better when I can use my decrepit desktop machine and its thickly padded, rocking, swiveling, soul-nourishing office chair. Finally, finally, finally . . . success!

Our flights home (first to Philly and then on to Germany) were blessedly uneventful with the exception of a 90-minute delay at the gate in Philly. I had a whole empty seat right next to me, and I spent those 90 minutes fearing that the seat's rightful occupant would show up to claim his/her spot.

I've been quite worried about jet lag, as the last time around it really kicked our butts. So far though (knocking the wooden case of my ancient Dell) it doesn't seem to be a problem. We managed to stay up all day yesterday, and I served Benadryl with dinner. The kids were out by 9:00 p.m., and I set a record by getting in bed before midnight. We all slept until 9:00 this morning and feel pretty good. There will be Benadryl for dessert again tonight though, just to make sure.

We had our first adventure a couple hours after getting home. The kids and I found a Zirkusschule (circus school) online, and they were accepting new kids yesterday afternoon.

It's a very cool program and probably Mike and Annabelle's best shot at mixing with large numbers of German-speaking children. The lessons are held at the Asylbewerberheim, which is a home for families who fled the war in places like Bosnia and Kosovo. The teachers are the greatest--very patient and kind. They remind me of the cast of Godspell, only without any religious overtones.

Yesterday, all the kids were able to try out a number of different circus skills--juggling, diabolo, something that looks like walking on a rolling log. They each then signed up for 2 to practice in future lessons. Mike and Annabelle both chose juggling. For a second skill, he chose the log-walking thing and she chose poi balls, which I vaguely recall from our Hawaiian luau days but which I can't describe as they practiced with them in the other room.

And you thought I was joking about prepping the kids to run away and join the circus . . .

My kids have been fascinated for the past few months with the concept of Type A and Type B personalities, with A's being the uptight perfectionists and B's being the laid-back easygoing souls. They can talk for hours, analyzing their friends and relatives and trying to pinpoint the types. (Interestingly enough, they are surrounded by Type A's with only a very few B's showing up here and there.)

Of particular interest is the topic of whether or not it's possible to change one's type. Can we A's apply sheer force of will to transform ourselves into B's, or is it paradoxical to worry about not being relaxed enough? This ongoing controversy has spawned a new catchphrase for us: "Be a B." Sometimes we punctuate this with a buzzing sound (get it? "B" = "bee").

So a typical exchange goes something like this:

Should we go to this movie or that movie? Or should we even go to a movie at all? Traffic could be bad. Maybe we should just rent a movie. But which one?

Oh, for pete sake, be a B! Bzzzzzzzzzz!

We were discussing travel the other day, and one of the kids posed an interesting question: Who makes a better traveler, an A or a B? I suggested that travel gives us the opportunity to make the most of both our A and B attributes, as A tendencies are helpful for making plans and B tendencies are useful for adjusting easily when the plans inevitably change.

"For example," I said, "in order to figure out an itinerary and book tickets, it's good to have a lot of A-ness."

Mike and Annabelle burst out laughing. A-ness? Did I really just say that?

I explained further: "But B-ness is a good thing to have when you miss your train or wind up dealing with an unexpected national holiday." By now the kids were howling.

My dad got into the merriment by noting that perhaps it's fortunate that there's no Type P, as we would then have to worry about the P-ness.

It's only been a week, but it seems that my slip of the tongue has been forever enshrined in the family vernacular. "Your A-ness is showing," we warn each other. Or "A little more B-ness and a little less A-ness, please."

English speakers of the world! The people who brought you the verb "to Fred," meaning "to put something away before the user is finished with it," are now happy to offer the terms "A-ness" and "B-ness" for your use and enjoyment. No charge.

I felt really good this morning when I got up and didn't have to go racing for the airport. I felt even better when I checked my email and found that Fred's request for R&R has been approved for 1-15 February. I have rebooked our departure for Tuesday, and we should have Fred with us roughly a week later. Hooray!

Jenny and Jeff came up to see us off at the airport, and we're enjoying having an extra weekend together. This afternoon we went with my dad to the Woodruff Wildlife Refuge (a.k.a. in the Boyd family as the "gator bowl").

Mike thinks he might very well be the first person to unicycle at the gator bowl:



We stopped along the way to gawk at a couple of sandhill cranes:



The kids insisted that we climb the birdwatching tower, where Annabelle enjoyed peeking through Papa Boyd's binoculars:



I took this panorama of the area from the tower:



I said when we got there that I wasn't leaving without seeing an alligator. Fortunately, we saw this fellow on our way out:



We capped off our day with a visit to Bellini's and then spent the evening watching movies and old family videos.

My sister has been begging me to postpone our return to Germany, and as of tonight it looks like she has gotten her wish. I went online this afternoon to confirm our reservations and discovered that a huge winter storm is set to land in Philly tomorrow afternoon the same time as our plane. We can rebook without penalty to any time in the next 7 days. So now the big question is when to go? I'm holding off on making a decision until tomorrow morning when Fred might know something more about R&R.

This last-minute reprieve from packing has given me time to mess around with some pictures and videos I shot today of my 2-kid circus. Mike and Annabelle have discovered that they can hold hands and ride. Click on the picture to watch the action:



Annabelle has gotten really good in the past week or 2. We sent her poles back to Germany last weekend, and she hasn't even missed them. Here's a video of her showing off her new skills:



Now that she has mastered getting started with assistance, Annabelle has been working on learning how to free mount. Click here to see.

Also, be sure to check out these clips of Mike riding one-footed, riding and juggling, and showing off his diabolo.

And in other news, in case you were wondering how stupid Eddie looks when he falls asleep with his tongue hanging out, the answer is . . . pretty stupid:



Here's a shot of Eddie and Willis enjoying each other's company:



Eddie is going to hang out in Florida with Willis and his peeps when we go back to Germany (whenever that may be). It's highly likely that we will be moving back to the States this summer, so I think that this will simplify things as far as the cats are concerned. We can just pick them both up on our way to god only knows where.

I received an email this morning from the FRG (Family Readiness Group) coordinator in Mannheim about a new program called "Take a Wounded Soldier to the Movies." No, nobody expects you to show up at the hospital in Landstuhl and actually TAKE somebody out on a date (although that would be nice, too).

Instead, what you do is put together a package with a DVD, some candy and microwave popcorn, an AT&T phone card, and a letter from you sharing your thoughts and support. Then you mail it to Landstuhl, where the chaplain's office distributes these care packages to wounded soldiers.

Mail packages to:

Take a Wounded Soldier to the Movies
Attn: Pastoral Services
Landstuhl Regional Medical Center
CMR 402
APO AE 09180

Before we left Germany for Florida last November, I told anybody who would listen that I wasn't going to make plans for our return trip until I had some information. First, I wanted to know where we would be moving to next summer; second, I wanted to know when Fred would be taking his 2-weeks R&R so that if I needed to, I could simply hang out here in Florida through my birthday on February 3. (I don't know why my birthday is such a big deal to me this year--it's only my twenty-eighteenth, so it's not like it's a major one--but for whatever reason, it is a huge deal to me that I not leave here to celebrate it in Germany without Fred.) Well, ha-freakin'-ha on me. We're getting on a plane tomorrow, and I know NOTHING about either of these topics.

Fred has requested to take R&R during the first half of February. I wanted to give us some time to kick the jet lag before he comes home, so January 22 seemed like a good time to go. I never dreamed that we would get to this point and still not know if it's a go or not.

Speaking of not knowing beans about something, can we talk assignments for a minute? I haven't said anything about it here on the blog, but it has consumed my every waking moment for the past 2 months.

I came here expecting that we would know our next assignment by Thanksgiving, and I promise you that I was the picture of patience until that point. And then the hope became that we would know by Christmas. It just keeps getting pushed back further and further, and it's making me nuts. Meanwhile, every few days somebody in DC sends out what they call the "guess list"--basically it's just a big spreadsheet of all the jobs, who's got 'em now, and who's likely to get 'em next summer--and Fred has yet to appear on one. Week after week, we sit helpless and watch the jobs that we want fill up with other people's names.

I feel like there is an undercurrent of pressure that I should be happy with any job that takes Fred out of the line of fire. Perhaps I'm risking running afoul of some cosmic force with my greediness, but here's what I want: I want my husband back from Iraq alive. I want him back in pretty much the same shape he left in--mentally stable and with all limbs intact. And I want him to get a job that we WANT. He deserves it. We deserve it.

It's almost midnight, and I'm exhausted, so I wouldn't be surprised if there's a typo here and there, but the wedding photos have finally been uploaded to an ImageStation album. I did my best to identify as many people as I could, but I came up empty a time or 2. I'm always willing to edit captions as information comes my way.

I am working on getting the rest of my Grandma Grace's wedding photos uploaded to an online album, but first I need to catch up on a little blogging I've let slide in the past few months. First, I'm pleased to report that I have finally gotten around to blogging our 3 days in St. Petersburg last August. Second, I've added a post wrapping up our trip to Disney just before Christmas.

Finally, some might argue that entitling a post "Family reunion, part I" constituted an implicit promise that at least a "part II" would be forthcoming. I did mean to get some more photos of us cousins and our kids at Laura's house the next day, but I never even took my camera out of my purse.

I do, however, have something nice to share from that visit. My mom and my Aunt Suzie worked together to create memory books of my Grandma Jernigan for us grandkids and presented them to us that weekend. They collected old letters, some of Grandma's best recipes, photos of her and of us, and special mementos like buttons and doilies from her sewing box and even a couple sticks of Juicy Fruit chewing gum, which Grandma always carried in her purse. ("G-U-M" was the first word we cousins learned to spell; "C-A-N-D-Y" was the second.) Suzie scanned all this into the computer and worked her Photoshop magic. The final results are stunning:



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I highly recommend that you make the banana pudding on page 8. It's the world's best!

When we arrived here in Florida, I never dreamed we would be attending a wedding before returning to Germany. Shortly after Thanksgiving though, my Grandma Grace announced that she would be marrying David Desmond in the chapel of their retirement community on January 16. Today was the big day, and we all had a great time!

Annabelle and I wore our matching outfits, and my father wore his kilt to walk his mom down the aisle. I promised him that I would get a picture of us together and call it "3 Plaid Skirts" and display it here on the blog. So here we are, the 3 plaid skirts:



Here's a closeup of Annabelle and me showing off the necklaces that Fred sent to us for Christmas:



We started off the afternoon with a pre-ceremony luncheon at the retirement center. While we were eating, I saw a woman at one of David's tables who looked vaguely familiar to me. "I know her," I insisted to Mom, who insisted right back that that was impossible. Well, it turned out that I was right! I knew not one but 2 of Dave's sisters back in the early 1980s through my participation in our local community theater.

It was such fun to get together with my extended family and to get a chance to meet--and realize I already knew part of--Dave's family. Here are the bride and groom posing with Dave's family:



Annabelle enjoyed getting to know her cousin Chloe:



Here is my Aunt Julia with her daughters, Terri and Sherri, and Terri's husband and kids. (This picture is also an example of my Aunt Suzie the Photoshop Goddess's stunning technical skills, as she created this one photo from 2 separate photos.)



Here we are with my parents and sister:



Towards the end of the reception, Grandma and Dave danced together and then stopped for a smooch. I missed the original kiss while I was waiting for my flash to recharge, but they were happy to reenact the moment:



On our way out to the car after the reception, we met Patches, the cat who lives at the retirement center:



I have a lot more photos, and I hope to get them added to an ImageStation album soon. When I do, I'll post a link here on the blog. With any luck, I'll have them posted before Grandma and Dave get back from their honeymoon trip to St. Thomas.

Monday: Hmmm . . . Monday is a blur.

Tuesday: We drove to Orlando to catch Phantom of the Opera on the big screen. I loved it, but the Phantom reminded me a lot of John Travolta's character in Pulp Fiction, and I kept expecting him to bust into a funky dance with Uma Thurman. Also, a LOUD sound system is not the same thing as a GOOD sound system, and it would have been much more enjoyable with digital sound.

The best part was watching Annabelle's enchantment with it. She would, she declared afterwards, "haul my cookies all the way to Orlando every day for a week to see that again." Afterwards, in the restroom, she drew some interesting looks when she declared to my mother, "That's the first time I've ever heard those songs in English!" (You may recall how studiously I prepared for seeing the show in German in Stuttgart last May. We had German Phantom blaring through the house for weeks on end.) Also, she has put the Phantom on her short list of "things I might be next Halloween."

Wednesday: Annabelle spent the evening playing with her friend Karen while I went out to dinner with my friend Cathy. I have launched a major campaign to convince Cathy that she needs to come visit us in Germany and accompany us on a weeklong, whirlwind tour of Spain and Portugal. We are in need of adult supervision, and Cathy can habla the ol' español. Por favor, Cathy?

Thursday: Mike had been lobbying for several days for a trip to the local skatepark, and this seemed like the last decent weather day for a while to do it. There was no skating though, as both kids took advantage of mostly having the park to themselves to practice on their unicycling skills. As before, these pictures are clickable links to a short video clip.

Annabelle is doing really great. By the time we left the park that day, she was able to start off holding the rail and then let go and continue to ride unassisted a good 20 feet:



Mike zipped up and down some of the smaller ramps on his regular uni. Then he switched to the giraffe uni and held on to the fence to practice idling. He drew some interesting stares from people who drove by:



Friday: The heavy rain came very close to spoiling my plans to get together with my cousin Ally over in Leesburg to celebrate our common birthday (on February 3, I will be twenty-eighteen). At the last minute though, the skies cleared and we were able to get together for a fun evening of good conversation, fruity mixed drinks, and enough food for a small army. Happy early birthday to us:



I arrived home last just before Jenny and Jeff arrived for the weekend. Annabelle greeted them with hats, which they happily modeled for the camera:

We spent a couple days on the other side of the state, visiting family over there. We left DeLand Thursday morning and headed for Tampa, where we spent the afternoon visiting with my grandfather and my great-aunt Madeline. Naturally, we go nowhere these days without a trunk full of unicycles, and Grandpa and Madeline enjoyed the impromptu circus the kids put on. Here's a shot of Grandpa with Mike and Annabelle; if you click on the picture, you can see a short video clip of Annabelle demonstrating her talent on the uni:



From Grandpa's house, we drove over to Temple Terrace to visit my brother-in-law James, my sister-in-law Meredith, and my nephew Sanders. That night Mike's allergies were really bothering him, but the only nosespray I had with me was mentholated. Mike's reaction to the searing pain was so extreme that I did what any good mother would do and grabbed my camera:



Friday morning, Meredith and Sanders took us to the Lowry Park Zoo. Mike and Annabelle were thrilled to get to ride in the jumpseat in the way-back of Mere's station wagon:



We had a great time at the zoo, watching the animals and trying to keep up with Sanders. He paused long enough to sit on this ersatz komodo dragon, so Mike and Annabelle hopped on as well for a quick photo op:



Annabelle was disappointed to find that there were no anteaters at the zoo (anteaters being her new favorite animal). Our biggest thrill was watching an elephant splashing about in the water (click on the picture for a video clip):



At one point, I'm sure Meredith thought we were all nuts. We had just bought some kettle corn (yum!) and were strolling past the bald eagle exhibit, when the kids noticed a squirrel sitting on the boardwalk, eating popcorn crumbs. As Meredith tried to direct our attention to this amazing eagle that was sitting not even 10 feet away from us, the kids and I were beside ourselves with glee as we tried to coax the squirrel to come closer.

After lunch we hurried back to the house so that Sanders could take his nap and so that we could all have a little rest. That evening, we drove out to Tampa to have supper with one of my friends from law school and his family.

Our big treat on Saturday was a trip downtown to see the Ringling Brothers and Barnum & Bailey Circus. When we first got into the arena, Mike and Annabelle declined to go down to the ringside for the pre-show festivities. They changed their minds pretty quickly though when the acrobats came out with unicycles and actually let a couple of kids from the audience try to get on them.

We jumped out of our seats and ran down, and I insisted to one of the acrobats that "This kid can ride," pointing furiously all the while at Mike. They handed him a uni, and he hopped on easy as pie. He rode forward. He rode backward. He idled, and he did a few hops. The crowd loved it, and he got lots of applause. Saturday will go down in history for Mike as the day he made his circus debut:



Meanwhile back in the stands, Meredith bought some popcorn from one of the refreshment vendors, and it came with a nifty circus hat. Sanders looked mighty sporty in it:



So did James:



And Mike:



And Annabelle:



After the circus, we drove to Orlando. We met up with Jenny and Jeff and went out for Indian food before bringing Jenny back to DeLand with us for the rest of the weekend.

Hmmm . . . Do you think Jenny has had collagen injections in her lips?

Riverbend has a new post up on her blog, Baghdad Burning. Very interesting, especially the part about the sale of election ballots.

We had a supremely tranquil New Year's Eve. It was so tranquil, in fact, that I managed to take a nice little snooze with Eddie (Mike was sneaky and took this picture of us):



We're not a very exciting bunch this weekend, which is fine by me. It doesn't leave much to write about though.