Look at her go!

Look at her go!
On the way home from the supermarket, Sonia took the high road. A few months ago she wouldn't go up there unless I walked in front of her. Atta girl.

After dinner tonight, I started teaching Maddy the song "Rudolf the Red-nosed Reindeer". A half an hour and two off-key verses later, we looked up to see that Sonia was still happily playing with her plastic tea set. She had everything layed out on large cloth napkin on the footstool, and had pulled up two little chairs and two stools up for us to sit. Wonderful stuff.

'Twas the Night Before Christmas

Alice has just announced that she is committing the following classic poem to memory ("Good exercise for my brain"). As she recited the first four stanzas for us at the office, Véronique and I got chills of excitement. Alice has single-handedly brought us the spirit of Christmas...


'TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS
by Clement Clarke Moore

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;

The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads;
And mamma in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled down for a long winter's nap,

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer,

With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;

"Now, Dasher! now, Dancer!
Now, Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! on Cupid!
on, Donder and Blitzen!
To the top of the porch!
to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! dash away!
dash away all!"

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,
So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.A
s I drew in my hand, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.

He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;
A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.

His eyes -- how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow;

The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath;
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook, when he laughed like a bowlful of jelly.

He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk,
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;

He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,
"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night."

Sinterklaas

Hello all!

Here I am again! I've recovered from my champagne hangover and survived my re-entry into regular daily life...

Marten and the girls brought me breakfast in bed (beschuit met muisjes!) to celebrate the victory of having written a book. The word 'book' is used euphemistically, I assure you, but I loved celebrating having reached my goal all the same.

Véronique has read the manuscript, and we have since had several good laughs about the confusing chronology, the characters that lack depth, the clumsy dialogue and the persistant use of my own voice for several characters. She laughed out loud over several bits, not because of sparkling prose, but only because she recognized the shameless insertion of episodes from real life... but, having said that, I am proud to say that she actually shed tears over the bits that were meant to be sad.

Her final verdict, I believe, is that it is a wonderful skeleton of a book that should be at least twice as long as it is now. I have been given orders to sort out the time line, do the necessary research, and continue to write with a focus on realistic detail.

On a less happy note, my internal editor has returned from the Internal Editor Kennel. On my way home from work on 1 December, I noticed an irritating critical voice in the back of my mind that I had not heard since 1 November. I was just starting to cower and feel insecure, when it occurred to me that I could hide the 'book' from my editor. So there I stood in my mind's eye with the manuscript behind my back, innocently whistling "Singin' in the Rain", when She asks me how my month was.
Me: "oh, fine. Nothing special. Same ole, same ole...and you - how was the Internal Editor vacation camp?"
Internal Editor: "Great. Learned a lot of new tactics. What's that behind your back? Have you been writing while I was gone?"
Me: "Who me?! Nah..."
Etc.
It wasn't pretty. Playing out this goofy scene in my head somehow chased the insecurity away. Just to be on the safe side, however, I have have decided not to look at the manuscript myself for a week.

I asked Sonia for a kiss on my nose, and she gave me one, but her lips didn't make the smooch sound she likes so much. She used a phrase Maddy uses when she has attempted a trick on the bar, and it doesn't turn out right.
Sonia: "Wacht, dat was 'm niet" = "Wait, that wasn't it"
She gives me a second kiss on the nose, this time with smooch sound. That was it.
Maybe it is that way with this book too. "Wait, that wasn't it... just give me a year to get it right."

Fun news about Maddy: She and Marten went to see a famous Dutch band that produces children's music (called V.O.F. De Kunst) at the new theater here in Alphen aan den Rijn.
It was a full house...700 people there swinging to jazzy renditions of Sinterklaas songs. At one point Sinterklaas himself arrives, and the lead singer invites all the kids onto the stage. Maddy joins about 200 kids in running up to the front of the theater and climbing on stage. There is music, there is dancing, there is singing and clapping.

And suddenly there is an announcement.

"A little girl here would like to sing a song for you, Sinterklaas!" The crowd goes silent.

Our little redhead has managed to worm her way through all the other kids and pull on the lead singers pant's leg long enough to get his attention and subsequently convinced him that she really really wants to sing a song for Sinterklaas. And there she stood, smiling and relaxed in her Zwarte Piet suit, singing a Sinterklaas song she had just learned at school, and which apparently no one else knew. A solo act. Applause. When the music started again, Maddy continued dancing with the other kids and having a great time. A star is born...