Missing Halloween Tradition and Feeling Guilty

I love the holidays.  I left at least 25 tubs plus bags and boxes of holiday decorations in Texas for obvious reasons---a 20-foot shipping container and no closets here in Basel.  My favorite holiday is Christmas for lots of reasons, which I will blog about some other day.  Close to the top of the list is Halloween.  I'm not into the dark side of Halloween--- hard-core ghouls, witches, monsters, bats, and skeltons and really frightening masks and makeup; nor do I care for really dark, creepy music and horror films; but there can be such a fun, light-hearted side to the whole thing.

I loved Halloween as a kid.  We would use pillowcases for our trick-or-treat bags.  I'd hate to know how many calories I ingested each year.  I remember wandering the streets of Vernal until way too late for it to be healthy (stomach-wise or safety-wise).  I would get so cold I was sure that my nose or my toes would fall off.  I still remember Jill Wright's dad, Frank, accidentally pinning my mummy wrappings to my leg with a small safety pin as he helped wrap the two of us up for a dance in jr. high (and I didn't have the nerve to tell him that the pin had gone in and out of my skin---I finally took it out in the school restroom after I couldn't stand the pain any longer---was I dense or what?). 

I loved Halloween when my kids were young---except sometimes when we had costume issues and the jack-o-lantern thing (DJ was rarely home to help; hence, not a jack-o-lantern for each kid every year and some years there were pumpkins with marker faces!) Despite DJ's amazing ability to be out of town on a good share of Halloween nights, I continued with my fascination for the make-believe, the goodies, and the excitement in my kids voices and eyes.

When we moved from Vernal to Bountiful in 1980, it was near the end of October.  So what did I do?  I hosted a Halloween-themed party for Rachel and Matt and their little friends as kind of a "good-bye bash" in the middle of our moving boxes (figured it would look more like a haunted house).  There was hardly a year that I didn't do the room mother thing at Halloween.  I became proficient at pumpkin cut-out cookies and managing classrooms of 7-8 year olds who each had his/her own frosting container, plastic knife, and sprinkles or M and M's.  I had the classic homemade Halloween Word Bingo game with a witch's cauldron from which to draw the words and a set of McDonald Happy Meal plastic pumpkins that strategically placed were perfect for "Bozo Buckets".  I knew how to place spider rings on dozens of cupcakes with great finesse and blinding speed.  I did Halloween crafts with Brownie and Girl Scout troops.  I just kind of enjoyed the whole fun part of the holiday.  I also loved to decorate the house.

Fast forward to my years as "Grammy".  I couldn't find enough cute things---Halloween onsies and jammies, socks, hats, and bibs; black cat stuffies or Beanie Baby-sized ghosts; Halloween board books and later on, picture books, and still later, Halloween versions of Easy Readers and chapter books; Halloween motifs on plastic dinnerware and utensils; and treats, of course.  When I just had a few grandchildren I would sometimes send costumes:

and in 2008, I even sewed up a costume for my favorite Queen Guinevere (Morgan) and my own special cowgirl (Becca):

But the Halloween tradition that has been long-lasting and the most fun (and the most work) started when my sister, Olivia (Livi, to me) and I got together and started making our grandchildren their annual Halloween surprises.  For three years, we did what we called BOO BOOKS---books made from small, paper lunch bags in such a way that there were multiple pages and pockets, and then we would add more envelopes and pouches, afterwards embellishing the whole thing with Halloween stickers, papers, ribbons, etc.  We would fill the empty spaces with coupons for goodies, gift cards for new books, stickers, coins to use for a ride on the horse at Wal-Mart, tiny coloring books, candy, punch balls, and just about every small plastic gadget, game, or doo-dad from Oriental Trading or Target's $1 bins that would fit and that we hadn't used before.

Liz's Hunter with his very own 2006 edition of the BOO BOOK when he was one month old in Rexburg!
Babies got things like bibs, feeding spoons, baby snacks, teething rings, etc. stuffed in their books.

The same year, Rachel's girls had some wait time before or after a ward party so she let them have their BOO BOOKS.  I would ship them in large Ziplocs in case anything fell out of the pockets, 20-month old, Anna, is trying to get her's out!  Morgan and Becca were checking out the pages.

In 2008, I told Livi I was tired of BOO BOOKS, thus, our new project BOO BUCKETS---empty unused paint buckets which we decorated and filled with much the same types of things.  I had to come up with nine different-looking buckets, each with it's own unique design:

Each with over 30 ribbons cut and tied on the handle:



Each with it's own unique lid...

And each with a card from Grammy and Grampy (lovingly computer-designed and generated by Auntie Livi):

The kids loved them.as evidenced by the Dailey girls waiting for Mom's signal to open them and then playing with all the goofy little surprises inside:

Well, they were much less labor-intensive and that was good.  But, oh my, did I think about what it was going to cost to fill them???????? Or mail them to Tennessee, Idaho, Wisconsin, and Texarkana?  Nope, definitely not a repeat for 2009---

So we went to our version of the BOO BOX, a smaller something (not by much), less labor-intensive something (not by much---8 different surfaces to cover, and we decoupaged).  I got these five done and in the mail and kept working on the next four...

...and finished them in Tennessee, while hiding away in our bedroom late at nights, in the middle of helping Rachel and Russ and their girls move into their new home in Knoxville.  I made it just in time for delivery when the girls got home from trick or treating in the rain (hence, some in jammies and wet hair).  It was so fun to be there while they opened their boxes.  I hadn't experienced the excitement and joy had by the grandchildren as they opened their Halloween surprises!

So enter, 2010 and our move to Basel, Switzerland.  I just knew I couldn't do it.  I would get here in September, have 13 to do (we've added three new babies and Mike's step-daughter in the last 12 months), and then have to mail them from Basel.  Ummmmmm, not going to happen.  I told myself it was okay.

Then, my sweet Sarah said, "What, Katelyn's not going to get a BOO BOX for Halloween?!?"  Oh, my, the grammy in me suffered.  So while visiting Idaho in August, I looked for something, bought 13 smaller buckets hoping to get them decorated and filled before I left, but it didn't happen.  Somehow between cleaning, laundry, shopping, packing, gathering up every last thing we needed to take, hooking up Skype and Slingbox, spending some time with family, and going to church, my 3 1/2 days in Houston were chuck full. 

So....I went to Barnes and Noble and bought 13 gift cards a few days before I flew here, thinking I would find some kind of cute Swiss Halloween something to tuck the cards into---haven't seen anything (they're not into Halloween like we are, and I don't shop much).  Somehow in the midst of unpacking, building, etc, I lost track of time.  Last week, I realized, when it took 20 days for my niece's wedding announcement to get here, that there was no way I was going to get anything sent to my 13 adorable little ones.

I had written most of this blog several days ago.  Then today, (Tuesday the 26th), I got the brilliant idea to send something through the internet.  Found some really cute treat baskets from The Popcorn Factory.  The postage was going to eat me alive at this late date, but I had to do something---postage had been terrible the year I sent the BOO BUCKETS.  I decided to do it.  I browsed, I deliberated, I finally figured out an order for each of our seven of  kids and their families (Rachel's family of 7 would need more; some of the others would need a little less; in cases where babies couldn't eat much, they could get by on a little less) dug up new addresses that I didn't have updated, filled in order forms seven times, wrote seven separate messages, and as I pushed the button to finalize the order, it told me there was a problem, blah, blah, blah with the website. For awhile the order was still there, but I couldn't do anything; when I went back later, the order was GONE. :(   I spent at least two hours pouring over multiple websites, deciding on theirs, figuring out which family would need what size, etc. and then this.  I think I am giving up.  I don't have two more hours to re-do the whole thing, and the order needed to go early to get shipped.

I'm not exactly feeling like Grandmother of the Year.  As much work as it was, I'm missing the tradition and the satisfaction of making something for the grandchildren for Halloween.  I'm really having to work at not letting the disappointment in myself get to me (you know, I should have planned better, I should have gone without sleep more often). 

So... I'm adding other adjustments to my list. 

• I need to scale back while I am here. 
• I now know that I need to plan everything months in advance.
• I need to mail anything at least a month in advance.  

Hopefully I'll have better luck with the internet so I have a means of shopping and remembering special days.  Change is hard, but necessary.  Hope everyone has a Happy Halloween, especially my 13 favorite little ones

Some Postcard Deja vu

We've been married for 36 1/2 years (officially as of Monday, October 25th).  In that time, we have received many beautiful postcards from friends and family as they have traveled throughout the world.  Some of them have found their way to the garbage, but I saved a lot of the most beautiful and unique or those that I thought my kids could use in a school report/project or those that could start a cool collection for one of the kids.  Most of them are in a file folder in a file drawer packed away into long-term storage, but for some reason I came across a second file folder with some more postcards as I was "plowing" my way through memorabilia the other day.

Most of what was in that folder was from DJ's friend, Bobby Jones.  Bobby did all the financial and computer-related office chores for R.W. Jones Trucking in Vernal.  When we lived there for almost three years (77-80), DJ helped sell a computer system to them and did all  their programming besides working his "day" job.  Bobby and DJ became good friends.  For years, even after we moved and lived in Bountiful and even when we lived in Ottawa, IL, DJ would travel back to Vernal to do programming for them.  Bobby was single and traveled the world.  He was always good to keep us informed of his travels.

Imagine my shock, when I came across this:

That's right!  BASEL!  This is where I live.  If you look to the top of the river and see the faint outline of a third bridge---it is the Dreirosenbruche (Three Roses Bridge).  We live on the cathedral side of the river just 2+ blocks from that bridge.  This is the route we walk on our "long" walk.  We cross the bridge to the opposite side of the river (right side of postcard) and walk along the river until we get to the bridge which is just beyond this cathedral (so it's not in this picture), cross over, and walk back home.

I know when I got this, I probably thought, "Basel---Basel, Switzerland.  Where in the world is that?"  I mean I would have understood Geneva, Bern, Zurich, Lucerne, but one just doesn't hear much about Basel. Little did I know those 20 or so years ago (can't read the postmark), that I would live here! I wouldn't have dreamed it in a million years.  Just wanted to share my little moment of deja vu.

Twas in a Funk!

I just looked up the definition for a fairly new slang word, funk, to make sure that's the word I should use to explain my state of mind last Monday and Tuesday and Wednesday and Thursday!  Sure enough, it fits.  Several different sources gave different meanings, and they are very different whether used as an adjective, a noun, or a verb, but these definitions fit:

• a state of cowardly fright
• a panic
• a state of severe depression (this one is a little strong, but I was getting there)
• to cringe, flinch, shrink, wince, or recoil

All of those definitions describe my state of being for most of this past week.  Let me explain.  Moving to a foreign country brings with it lots of incredible experiences, things to see and do, etc.  Being here with DJ, alone, after very little of that, can be wonderful.  I'm learning all kinds of new things, and you can't beat that. BUT....there are a lot of adjustments.  Some of those things I know will get better with time; some, I wonder, if I will ever get used to, but I have had a really good attitude.

So Monday was like any day in that I had to deal with a washing machine that will only wash 5 dress shirts at once or 2-3 bath towels at once, or that takes two loads just to do the sheets, and that takes forever to do anything, as well as dealing with his equally slow friend, my dryer.  I needed to clean house which included dry mopping and wet mopping every square foot of this apartment (because it is 100 percent tile) besides a big list of housekeeping chores like anywhere else.  It was a fairly normal Monday PLUS all the adjustments of living here. 

I think I could have handled the normal kind of stuff and even some of the adjustments, but I had four things that were really bugging me.  Normally, (okay, back in Texas), none of them would have bothered me that much, but I had issues here. 

1.  I had been asked on my way out the door at church on the first or second Sunday we attended our ward if I would help with the food for our monthly Relief Society meeting in October.  Would I make a dish (I thought I had remembered her saying not a dessert) using pumpkin, and would I do something American?  Okay, you need to know that my favorite kind of pumpkin anything is pumpkin chocolate chip cookies.  I can do those.  I love pumpkin pie; but because I never think my pie crusts are as light and flakey as Aunt Hazel's, I resort to Marie Callender's or any other local bakery that I trust, or at worst, use a Pillsbury pie crust from the freezer section of my nearest grocery store!!!  The only other time I have ever made something with pumpkin was for a tasting table in the Rosenberg Ward under the tutelage of master chef and ultimate party planner, Connie Foss.  I had all those recipes which she so beautifully copied and bound, but they were tightly tucked in a box in long-term storage in Houston because I don't have room for the the dozens of cookbooks that I collect (and don't use enough) here in Basel.  I don't typically cook things with pumpkin in them. Until I got older, I fairly detested anything that tasted like a squash.  Love it now, but it was an acquired taste.  Nonetheless, I agreed to help.

Well, to make matters worse, I really wanted to clarify what they wanted, how much they needed, what else was being served, was this a dinner or a tasting table, what time did I need to be there, did I need to help set up, did they need centerpieces or anything (because I do have five of my beautifully handcrafted, fabric pumpkins made by Linda somebody in Tomball, Texas, here with me), did we need to bring paper goods or did we use dishes at the church, etc. etc.  I hadn't been to one of these meetings here, by the time I attended our ward in September because of Stake Conference, they had just had the meeting.  I didn't know what to expect.  I was sure someone would call so I could get my questions answered, but they didn't.  The only time I had ever seen the woman who asked me to help was that day.  We sit up close to the front at church so I don't see everyone behind me, and I think she works with the Primary children because I had never seen her at the other meetings.  Anyway....the call didn't come, I didn't really understand what I was supposed to do, so by Monday and then Tuesday, and then Wednesday...my frustration grew.

Thursday morning, I emailed the only member of the presidency who ever talks to me because she knows some English, but I knew that she probably wouldn't see it because I was pretty sure she worked.  I kept thinking that surely Esther (the lady who had asked) would call because the activity was that night.  Prior to all this, however, I had been on the internet desparately looking for recipes, hunting for canned pumpkin and not finding it ( including at least 3-4 different grocery chains in Basel and one in France).   I knew I needed to have something done.  I needed a plan.  Anyway, enough about that frustration for now.

2.  The second thing that was bugging me was my hair.  My hair needs to be cut about every 6 weeks; and if I don't get it done by then it not only looks shaggy, but super flat on top with bangs in my eyes, and I start to sport a "skunk stripe" down my part because my hair needs to be colored as well.  It used to be that I would go too long between "dos" because of time---I was busy, I had the grandchildren and no sitter, I forgot to call during business hours, or I would remember on Tuesdays which was Jennifer's day off.  I hate how I feel and how I look when the hair goes too long between trips to the hairdresser. So...it had been six weeks, and I knew I needed to go get it done.  I HATE finding someone new to do my hair.  I have had more bad cuts than I care to remember, I have had hair color down the back of my clothing, I have had bad color choices, etc.  I just hate finding someone new.  Compound that with the fact that I don't know where very many things are, the few places I had noticed looked to be a little questionable, the whole language barrier,  AND the money thing.  You see, our relocation agent had told me she paid 200 francs for a haircut---that's close to $200, and she doesn't color her hair!  She's a lovely lady, but the haircut didn't look anything out of the ordinary.  All these things combined, the need for a cut and color and the issues listed, and I was one perplexed woman.

3.  The moving in, getting settled thing was really starting to get on my nerves.  We had been here almost six weeks, and I still had some pictures sitting on the floors propped up against the wall, no light fixtures in 11 places (only the two bathrooms and the loggia had them), and two wardrobe doors still not attached to the wardrobes and no knobs on any of the six wardrobe doors.  So...there's just unattractive things or holes or hanging wires about anywhere you look.

You have to know that in my early days, I thrived on getting settled and getting settled quickly with everything cleaned and ready for OUR DIRT.  When we moved to Ottawa with six kids in 1988, it was my goal to have the storage in the garage organized and placed around the perimeter just how I wanted it, nothing in the garage that wasn't supposed to be there, and the two cars parked INSIDE the garage before the moving van pulled out that night (granted he was there until 10:00 p.m.)  I made my goal, and the driver hauled dozens of emptied boxes with him because I had the kids helping me inside as well.  That's my mindset---I want to feather my nest and get it done so we can move on with our new life, wherever it is.

I thought I would have this three-bedroom apartment whipped into shape in no time.  So...the undone projects were really starting to get to me.  Now I must explain that there are reasons for this.  First, it took weeks to shop for and to build a lot of furniture that we needed.  We also need to hire a handyman/electrician to install our lights and to hang some of our pictures because they are going into concrete/brick walls.  It doesn't make sense to pay to have him come multiples times, so we need everything ready for one trip.  We have shopped and shopped and haven't been able to find all the light fixtures we need because we couldn't find what we liked or what we were willing to spend money on given the fact that we will have to leave all of them here in Switzerland because of different electircal currents.  We've seen lots that we like, but they don't go with our furniture, and/or they are priced at 300-1,000 francs each---where's Home Depot when you need one?  We've had issues with the hinges on the last two doors, and we need to buy an electric drill or have the handyman drill holes for the knobs.  Nonetheless, I was feeling like a flop, and getting frustrated that things weren't feeling more like home.  And finally.....

4.  We were having a Stake Relief Society Conference in Bern on Saturday.  Normally, not a problem, I love going to those events.  BUT.... Bern is an hour away.  I wasn't confident of my way to the temple where our day was starting and had no clue where the stake center (chapel) is.  I haven't driven the company car anywhere as of yet because I really don't have to, nor do I feel confident of driving here quite yet.  I don't understand the signs in German, nor their postings on the roads themselves.  I hate round-abouts.  I am really nervous about the two tram lines going down the middle of the road (downtown Houston all over again),  watching out for bicyclists who ride right along with you, and pedestrians who walk out in front of you without hesitating at the curb because they really do have the right-of-way.  Most, if not all, of the day would be done in German, and I assumed there would be, but wasn't sure, that there would be English translation at the temple.  Anyway, all these things were really weighing on me with a little help from Satan telling me that I was justified in not going---what would I get out of it anyway.  I wouldn't understand much of anything being said.

A funk.  I was in a really super-sized funk for most of the week.  But thank heavens for prayer, for faith that I could learn and go and do, and for energy to keeping trying.

Thursday morning I bought a pumpkin and lots of other stuff at the grocery store all by myself (that's major) with a little help from the butcher who was the only employee that spoke some decent English and a lot of help from Heavenly Father.  I was still hoping for an email or a phone call, but none had come when I returned from the store.  A fellow employee at Huntsman in the aerospace division, who DJ learned was American and who has been here for awhile, knew that you could purchase canned pumpkin at Globus (Switzerland's Bloomingdale's)---who would have thought!  It was a mere 5.60 francs per can (like a small vegetable-size can), but we found it!  DJ went to Globus during his lunch hour and picked it up.  So I spent 5-6 hours in the kitchen cleaning out a pumpkin, and chopping all sorts of veggies, and mincing garlic, and browning bratwurst in lieu of Italian sausage which the butcher told me they only have in the summer, and cooking rice, and making chicken broth from bouillon because you can't buy it in the can, and converting measurements on some containers and converting cooking temps from F to C, AND making pumpkin chocolate chip cookies (that was the easy part).  Oh, and I forgot how earlier in the week, it took us quite awhile and several trips to grocery stores to find their version of chocolate chips---Backschokolade-Wurfel in German or in French, Carre's de chocolat pour patisseries, or in Italian Dadini di cioccolato per dolci).  By the way, they're in cubes not chips or baby-sized kisses, and I kind of like them.

To shorten this already way-too-long account, by 6:40 I was ready to go, and I ended up with a really delicious vegetable/rice/meat dish baked in a pumpkin and a platter full of pumpkin chocolate chip cookies just in case they really wanted something sweet, and I had misunderstood.

(Okay, ignore the fact that even though I didn't cook this as long as it said, it was done; part of the pumpkin skin was kind of charred.)
Not the end of the drama.  Got there, no Esther, no English-speaking Heidi from the presidency, no other food, no tables set up for dinner, no one that was talking to me much.....  I asked where the kitchen was, put my food there, and waited.  Time for the meeting to start, nothing.  Announcements, prayer, lesson (a sweet 20-something single sister translated a little for me) but nothing is said about food.  The start of the activity, Heidi has shown up,  I talked to her, and she doesn't really know any details other than we eat "a little something" after our activity.  I slipped into the kitchen and put my food in the oven to keep warm, hoping I wouldn't break my platter.  There's still no other food in sight.  We created our floral arrangments in mini-pumpkins and gourds, and some made jack-o-lanterns.  We actually had a lot of fun doing it.  I now have a cute little fall something on my desk at home!

Everyone chipped in, and we cleaned up our tables and the floor.  No mention of food.  I asked Heidi what I should do, and she had me dish up the food on some small paper plates we found in the kitchen.  The ladies loved the dish (one sister had four helpings), and the cookies.  They just aren't used to much of pumpkin anything.  One lady told me that she had tried pumpkin pie once 20 years ago and then again, and she still disliked it---she said she would try a cookie, she had two!  She wrote me an email for the recipe because she has told her daughter that she will be fixing a new Christmas treat this year.

Saturday, DJ and I got up early and we drove to Bern together.  I had a wonderful experience at the temple.  I felt such a love for the the Swiss sisters.  The temple interior is absolutely gorgeous---breath-taking in places, and the peace there is incredible.  I came away with a strong confirmation that I was loved by my Father Heaven and that he was mindful of me.  Had I not gone, I would have missed it all. 

I did forego the workshops that afternoon, but had planned to do some sightseeing with DJ in Bern.  It was overcast, and we both decided we'd rather head for home and do some things here.  On the way home, we found a large store that carried light fixtures, and we found the last two---a lot of them are really not my favorite, but they will do for the time we are here. 

Today at church, I asked about places to get my hair done, and I feel much better about that.  Tomorrow starts a new week.  I can make a hair appointment and schedule the handyman.  Hopefully by the end of the week, I can look in the mirror and like my hair and feel a little more settled in.

Lessons learned (hopefully):  Little things can add up and cause much discouragement---try to avoid letting them add up!  Don't give in or give up.  Satan knows our weaknesses---one of mine is discouragement, and he can utilize it to ruin me.  Have faith.  Ask for help from Heavenly Father and from others.  Do things that make you uncomfortable because they can end up being really positive experiences.  Keep treading water until the life preserver comes.  Check out the internet for new recipes---there's some good ones.

An Afternoon in France - Colmar Style



This is a picture of a random building just because I loved the "tudor" style which I found to be very prevalent.  We parked our car on the outskirts of the older village and walked down the brick sidewalks and roads into the village center.  What a walk back in time; and yet, the insides of the shops looked much like any retail establishment of modern day.  We stopped for a lunch of calzones with chicken, onion, peppers, and mushrooms.  Incredible!  Even though it was an Italian dish, DJ's comment was that the French sure knew how to cook.  He said that we could have had the same thing in Switzerland, and it wouldn't have tasted so good.  Then we were off.  I could have wandered in and out of a lot of shops, but I am married to a man that learned at an early age that he hated to shop!  Some day if I get the courage to drive there alone, I'm going to do some serious browsing/shopping!

 



I'm not going to make commentary on every picture.  Just know that it was raining, and there are pictures
with rain drops in them.  Most pictures I took were just because I loved the flowers or the ironwork or the architecture.  I can't get enough of this old world charm!

 



The numbers, 1626, over the doorway of this building do not represent the address.  Nope, that is the year that this building was erected!





Loved the tile work on this roof.



Loved the roofline on this building.





One of many little roads (alleys) that just took off every which way----village definitely not laid out on a grid!






Looks like the cover of a jigsaw puzzle box----the kind of puzzle that drives you crazy because of the inverted reflection of an object in the water!





I took this close-up because all of the architectural detail is faux---that's right, painted.  It was remarkable.





If you look at this sign (even without a background in French), you can figure out that we were now in an area called Little Venice because of the canals that run through the village.





This is one of the tour "trains" that we will go on the next time we visit.  It looked as though people had headsets so they could get the information in whatever language they needed.





A shot of St. Martin's Collegiate Church.  The foundations of this cathedral go back to 1,000.  What we see today was finished in the 1,300's with some parts newer when they had to replace those burned in a fire of the 1,500's.  Remarkable detail as seen below:







But this is what intrigues many....

...a stork's nest!  Like the swallows at San Juan Capistrano and the swans linked to Neuschwanstein, Colmar has its storks.  Stork stuffies are a big souvenir item.  I told DJ we should buy one for the playroom home in Texas, but he just rolled his eyeballs---guess that was a no!



I had to take this one for "My Pal Val".  Valerie Murphy's husband's name is  Johnnie; and if I remember correctly they are of Irish descent.



On our way back through the village and  through the newer part of town to our car, we passed lots of French bakeries.  Well, this was the last one we came to before our parking spot, so we stopped...

...and, yes, even I indulged.  Can I just say that their pastry crusts are the lightest and flakiest ever, and I think their secret is just a hint of fruit, or a hint of chocolate, or a hint of sugar---nothing really strong or overpowering.  What a sweet way to end our day in Colmar.