The Canal Is Lonely

Poor canal. In nicer weather, it's bustling with activity. Lately, not so much. Hmmm...what shall I do today? Run or bike on the canal in the frigid fog, or stay inside where it's warm and enjoy a nice cup of coffee? Senseo it is.

Sint Theresiakerk in As, Belgium

Sint Theresiakerk (St. Therese Church) is not one of the biggest churches in Belgium. Nor is she one of the oldest. In fact, she's a baby as far as buildings go around here. She was built in 1930-1931. But the thing I like most about this church is that she is simply... beautiful. She is constructed mainly of weisser stein, or white stone, with a few other varieties thrown in for good measure. She reminds me of an old building out of a fairy tale. I pass by her every now and then, on my way to somewhere "important", and I always glance her way and smile. She has that effect on you, you know. For the last year and a half, I've promised to take the time to stop and really check her out, maybe even go inside it that's allowed. She's at her most glorious in the summer, when the sun is shinning bright, she is surrounded by lush plant life, and all of the flowers are in full bloom. I'd love to photograph her then. But for now, I dropped by for a few minutes on a chilly afternoon (32 F) and took a couple of pictures so that I could share her with you. There is a small monument off to the side of the church.

It says "Aandenken aan al de slachtoffers der beide oorlogen", and it means "commemorate (or remember) all the victims of two wars."

Window Peeking (You Know You Do It, Too)

The daylight hours here are similar to what they were in Alaska. During the winter months, the sun rises late and sets early. Or maybe I should just say that the nights are very long, because sometimes the sun doesn't like to make much of an appearance at all. The darkness does have one thing going for it, though. It is the perfect time of the year to take part in one of my favorite hobbies. Nope, not scrapbooking (although it does seem like something I should be working on during the rainy weather). I'm a window peeker. Not the creepy "I'm standing in your bushes and trying to see you in your underwear" type of window peeking. I'm talking about "driving down the street while running errands and casually glancing over at your open windows to check out how you decorate" kind of window peeking. Don't act all shocked. You know you do it, too. There's nothing quite as interesting as seeing how other people live. For instance, Belgians tend to decorate in a very modern and stark sense of style. They prefer clean lines, white walls and black or gray accents. In a country overflowing with wonderful antiques, they prefer the IKEA style of furniture. Go figure. And they are clean. Really, really clean. (No surprise there.) Anyhoo, it's interesting, and I figure if they didn't want people looking in their windows early in the morning, then they would keep the curtains shut, right? Besides, turnabout is fair play. I know that they peek in mine as they pass by, as well. We always open the windows early in the morning, so we can keep an eye out for the bus. The locals glance in the window, see the motorcycle sitting there, and you can practically hear them thinking..."Americans are SO weird, but at least the place is clean. Except maybe for those windows...Are those water spots?"

Dear Sun, Love ya. Mean it.

My dear friend, Sun, came out to see me at lunch time today. I almost didn't recognize her. It's been a while, you know. It's still 38 degrees (F), but I'll take what I can get. Maybe she just wanted to be appreciated. I'll never take her for granted again.

Dear Sun, I miss you. Call me.

Locals here are very curious. Upon hearing me speak English, they usually ask me a few questions. "Where are you from?" "What do you think about Belgium?" "Do you like it here?" I always tell them that I love Belgium. It's a beautiful country and people are so nice. But I miss home, family, and friends. Lately, I've been adding that I am tired of the rain. "Ah, rain," they respond. "That's Belgium." I guess you have to have an accepting type of attitude here, because you certainly can't do anything about the weather. They just continue on with life as if it's a beautiful day. The rain is pouring down, but they are out there raking leaves, riding their bikes to the market, or sweeping off their sidewalk. As soon as there is a break in the weather, they are out there wiping down their windows until they shine. As first, I was out there with them. Now, I just look up at the sky and say, "Looks like more rain is on the way. Why bother." I haven't cleaned my windows in a couple of months. I'm sure that I am the talk of the neighborhood with my water spotted panes, but such is life. Give it 10 minutes. It'll rain again and it won't matter. Oh, wait. It's raining now. *sigh*

The Official Unofficial Half Marathon

A few months ago, in a total absence of any thought whatsoever, I signed up for a half marathon. In my defense, there were several factors involved in it. The main factor...it's in Paris. Not Paris, Texas. Paris, France. (Don't take this the wrong way. I've been to Paris, Texas, and it's a lovely place to visit. They even have a Harley dealership there. Check it out, if you find yourself in the neighborhood.) Some of the more avid runners in our group of friends told us about this annual event. They only let 30,000 people sign up, and when I checked out the website, I could see the little ticker quickly counting down the available positions. In a nutshell, I panicked. Before I thought things through, I had inputted my (and Russ') information and signed us both up for a half marathon. I admit that I was a little bit concerned about being in shape enough to finish it, but the hubby (after accepting the surprising fact that he, too, was signed up to run a 20K race through the middle of a foreign city) designed a workout program that would put me in great shape in time for the event. After all, the race is in March. That was plenty of time to get ready. We started training. If you know anything about me, you know that I am not athletic. Nor am I in more than just adequate shape. And I hate...not dislike, but hate...running. At this point, you are probably rolling your eyes and asking the obvious question, "Then why did you sign up for a half marathon, moron?" I'm not offended. I've asked myself this question just about every day since making that fateful "click" and learned that my registration was complete. Duh. It's in Paris! I stayed (mostly) faithful to my training plan for a couple of months, and then life took a painful blow (as life sometimes does), and all that went out the window. After several weeks of no physical activity at all, it's time to reassess this situation. I started back on my training program, but pretty much was starting out at the beginning again. I send the kids off to school and force myself out into the snow, icy rain, or ice fog, drive over to the torture chamber (gym), drag myself onto the hamster wheel (treadmill) and run. Then walk, because I am in horrible shape. Then run again. I am told that men are better runners, because they can clear their minds and just run. Running is relaxing for them. Not women. We think. We think about what we need to do that day, what errands we need to run, and what we are going to prepare for dinner. We think about the laundry that is piled up, phone calls that need to be returned, and if we are out of toilet paper. And when we can get off of this stupid treadmill. "Crap, it's only been 15 minutes? Are you kidding me?" Anyhoo, like I said, it's time for reassessment. First, you have to get to Paris (regular train and then bullet train, and back home again), then get a hotel for at least 2 nights (you have to check in and get your bib the day before and you won't feel like traveling the afternoon after you run), and eat (be careful about that, because if something upsets your stomach, then you really won't feel like running). There isn't any time for sight seeing. And if you don't finish the race in the allotted time (2 hours and 40 minutes), then you don't even get official credit for the race. Or a picture of you crossing the finish line. So what we are talking about is spending a whole lot of money to punish myself in a foreign city, and probably not even "officially" finishing the race. It's fair to say the bloom is off the rose. After talking it over with the hubby, I've come to the conclusion that it's not worth it to take part in this marathon. I'm not a quitter, though. Instead, I am holding the first official "I Am Too Cheap To Take Part In The Paris Half Marathon Half Marathon". Bear with me, it's a working title and I'm not married to it. It will take place on the same day, March 6, but will begin just a few blocks from my house. Just to make things interesting, it will be an international half marathon. I am mapping out a route that will take us from Belgium, into the Netherlands, and then back into Belgium. Take that, Paris! I already have two other participants signed up for my event. And one isn't even married to me. There are no sign up fees, no travel hassles, and no one cares if it takes me 3 1/2 hours to complete. Rain or shine, I'm going to do this. And, if God's willing, I won't think too much while I'm out there.

Go Karts, Part Twee (That Means 2)

The boys decided that they needed some more speed, so we got together with friends and tried out another indoor Go Kart track this weekend. Not only was this one was closer to home, it was very cool. You step up to the bar and sign into one of these touch screen computers. Then it takes a picture of you for your "license". Once you are in the system, then you are assigned a car.

I also liked the fact that this place had more safety gear for Brandon. A harness and neck brace were included in the price for all minors. He quickly suited up and was ready to go. Just like at the other track, there is a sensor in each of the cars. The sensor keeps track of your lap times and where you are on the leader board. It projects all of these stats up on a big screen inside the glassed in bar upstairs, where family and fans gather to watch the race. Each heat (that's race for you regular folks) lasts 12 minutes.

The track is a lot bigger than it appears from outside. On that second level to the right, there is a laser tag section, as well as bumper car soccer. That's right. They use bumper cars to knock soccer balls into several lit up goals. Definitely something to check out in the future.

Happy New Year