Automated Bread

Back in the day, when I was a college student in Germany, I was amazed to find half-liter bottles of beer for sale on the street 24/7, in large "automats." This was especially handy on Saturdays, when stores usually closed right after lunch! Elsewhere I've been taken by the clever practice of having fresh cut flowers available in an automat... right across the street from a cemetery. And, of course, condom machines are ubiquitous.
But until coming to Belgium I don't recall ever seeing bread for sale on the street, again in a glass-and-plastic automat. You throw in your 2 or 3 Euros, and out comes a fresh loaf of one of many different kinds of bread. Where the beer machine was a life saver on Saturday evenings, the bread machine comes in very handy early on a Sunday morning.
By the way, if you read the little sign at the bottom of the picture and are wondering, "pain" is not a cognate - in French, it means bread!

The Politest Politicians

Last night there was a debate on Belgian television, with 4 politicians all running for a high government office arguing this and that. Since all were French speakers from the southern part of the country, I imagine most of the topics centered on how terrible the politicians from the northern (Dutch speaking) part of Belgium were. Each was probably trying to demonstrate to the public how they and they alone could truly hate the other part of the country. Kind of like a "round table discussion" on Fox News, where each "expert" takes his/her turn at dissing the president, vying to see who can come up with the most outrageous claim. But always in a fair and balanced way. Right.
But what made this debate absolutely unique was that at the conclusion, each of the 4 candidates pulled out a shopping bag and distributed gifts to the other 3. I'm not joking here. It appeared that this was the high point of the debate (it sure would make our own a lot more interesting to watch). The gifts ran from the mundane (e.g., the female candidate got 2 large bouquets) to the fashionable (one candidate, known for his bow ties, received two new, colorful ones), to the downright bizarre (one male candidate gave another a pair of very yellow boxer shorts). My French wasn't good enough to allow me to catch the political significance of the underwear, but, once again, I am not making this up.
If all Belgian politicians could carry this politeness over into their law-making, they might actually be able to have a functioning government in Brussels.

Yellow boxer shorts; I still can't get over it! Could you imagine U.S. presidential debates where each candidate had a gift for the other? Think of how much fun this would have been with Bill Clinton running...

A New Pastime for Mom and Dad

You know, just last week Lucie and I were saying how much we missed chugging beer. It's been years - make that decades - since we partook in this thrilling, cerebral hobby.
Fortunately for us, Robb had his going-away party in our backyard and he and 15 friends introduced us to a little drinking game, where you first have to chug down a small glass of beer (at least ours certainly were, fortunately), then flip your plastic cup onto its top. The first team to complete the tasks wins. As it came down to the wire, Lucie and I readied ourselves for the challenge. She took a huge early lead (face it, I had lame teammates, or at least that's my story) but had predictable trouble with the cup-flipping. Nearly catching up, I finished off my brew and then barely got a chance to make a larger fool of myself before she landed her cup. I was toast and she now has the bragging rights until our next chugging contest. I'm predicting she will hold the trophy for a very, very long time.

The Mysterious Mouse Murderer of Waterloo

You'll forgive me if I don't add a photo to this post...
Imagine my surprise yesterday as I walked through our living room, when something caught my attention. There, sitting atop a pile of sheet music on the piano was a mouse, deader than a doornail! It was clear that he had recently been murdered, but by whom?
I rounded up the usual suspects - three in total. Of course, at least one of those 3 might somehow try to pin the crime on our son Robb, taking into account his amazing appetite. What the perp forgot was that Robb left for the States last week. Nice try.
That left just the 3 felines. Two were quickly ruled out: Lily, at age 18, probably doesn't have the energy to think about a mouse, let alone attempt to kill one; and Big Max (or B.M, as we like to call him), who certainly has the size and look of a killer, has all the brainpower of the mouse - the dead one. He wouldn't know where to begin, going after big game like this.
So, that left a single suspect: the wily, young Gina, already well-known in the family for her skillful stalking of flies and small spiders, all of whom make tasty snacks (or so she tells us). It is interesting to note that, for two hours after the body was discovered, there was no sign of her anywhere. Apparently the criminal does not always return to the scene of the crime.
Later in the day, I made a citizen's arrest. Her sheepish look told me all I needed to know.
I think she's planning an insanity defense plea. Regardless of the sentence she receives, I'm sure she will simply sleep it off. Cat criminals are like that...

The Big Empty Nest

Not a great day for Mom and Dad. This morning we were a family of three (actually, we're four, but Charlie has been out on his own for a couple of years now); at dinner tonight, we are just two. Let the tears begin. Son Number Two, Robb, departed today on an American Airlines flight bound for Adulthood. He will spend the summer working at a sports camp in southern Pennsylvania, then will head for Temple University in Philadelphia, entering as a junior (he recently completed his AA at Anne Arundel Community College).
Oh, of course we will see him again; after all, he'll spend most of the next two summers with us here in Belgium. And on every business trip Mom or Dad takes to the States, we'll be sure to stop in and see both boys, if at all possible.
But the house is suddenly much larger, quieter, and colder. And, as if we needed any additional hints, it also means that Mom and Dad are just that much older.
The nest may be empty, but we are so proud of the two birds who have done the right thing and taken to flight.
Yes, it may be the right thing, the proper thing, and part of living. But nobody says we have to like it...