Trip to Germany, day one

We came to Germany a week ago and are already heading home tomorrow. As usual, we've taken way too many photos and I find it difficult to only post a few, so we'll see how many different posts it takes to cover just this one week! This one will just be our trip TO Germany and the first day. :-)

We got up at 3:45 a.m. and Jörn took six of us to the airport, then drove home and parked the car, and our friend Ken then drove Jörn, Jacob, and our luggage to the airport.

Sunrise over the Mediterranean as we took off from Larnaka--having missed it both Easter Sundays, I was glad to see it that morning.

Elisabeth slept most of the flight to Vienna and woke up cheerful, and then marched through the airport singing "Doe, a Deer". I wondered if anyone thought we'd been on the "Sound of Music" tour in Salzburg...

We made our flight just in time--the children had just sat down when I took this photo, and then while I was putting the camera away, the flight started boarding.

In Düsseldorf we were pleased that our luggage had not made it, because there was another flight from Vienna only an hour or so later, and then our luggage would be delivered. Yay! As we filed the report (with a VERY nice lady who didn't get at all weird about the fact that we have more than 1.3 children, which was quite a cool welcome to Germany), we joked that we'd better hurry up or our luggage might catch up with us and we'd have to take it after all.

We took the "Sky Train" (that is what the hanging monorail in the Düsseldorf airport is called) to the long-distance train station, enjoying all the green out the window.

Then we took a train to Wesel, had lunch at a little mostly take-away Italian place (we took up over half the chairs in the restaurant), then took a train to Hamminkeln and walked the less-than-a-minute to the Globe Europe headquarters where we were staying for most of our time in Germany. There's a gorgeous magnolia right in front:

It was great being here so early and the weather was extremely cooperative. The children played outside for hours, but the only photo I took was this one, of Helen on a "Laufrad". (I don't know what they're called in English, or even if they exist in English! It's a bicycle without pedals, which is helpful for learning balance and just plain fun. The family living upstairs has two little boys who just a week before we came both learned to ride regular bicycles, so they were happy to lend us this Laufrad for Helen and Katie to take turns with.)

About an hour after we arrived, our luggage was delivered: four suitcases (one of them only containing three more empty ones) and three car seats. Three suitcases easily contained everything we needed for the week, the others were for taking back to Germany some of our things that have been stored in friends' attic for the last three years, as well as the books from amazon.de and photos from kodakgallery.de that we'd ordered and had delivered here.

Easter Sunday, take two

I knew that the date of Easter had something to do with when a full moon was after the Vernal Equinox, but not the details, and also had no idea why Eastern (Orthodox) and Western Easter don't usually coincide, so googled. This was the clearest explanation I found, although why the Eastern church uses the Julian calendar, I don't get. Before we moved to Cyprus, it didn't really make any difference to me, was just a vague sort of fact about which I knew very little. The first year we were here, the two dates were one week apart, and then both 2010 and 2011 they were the same day. This year they're one week apart again, and next year they'll be five weeks apart.

In any case, since celebrating Easter is celebrating the resurrection of Jesus, which is true all the time, and some churches don't even have a special "Easter celebration" at all because it's something we celebrate EVERY day (or at least every Sunday--the fact that Jesus rose on a Sunday is the reason I've most often heard given for why most churches have their main worship service on a Sunday), it doesn't actually matter to me when we celebrate as a family. Most of us were ill at one point or another (or several) over the last month, and I was just so tired, that we opted out of celebrating last week. I did attend the Anglican church service, though, for several reasons: I love singing with a group (not that I could very well with my cold, but I tried); I love Easter music; the service is short; I wanted to take communion; I appreciate a certain amount of liturgy and tradition (once or twice a year); friends who don't usually go to St. Helena's were going that Sunday; and the service ends before Jörn and whichever children are going with him to the house church leave, so I could go without any children. All fairly practical and pragmatic reasons, really. It was okay, but I didn't get much music until I got home again. And for me, there were two brief moments of actual worship, but that's not too bad considering my attitude about institutional church in the last couple of years.

So last night after the younger children had gone to bed, I boiled and dyed a dozen eggs. (Yes, we sometimes do it with the children, and yes, that can be fun. If any of them had remembered on their own and asked, I would have done it with them. But they didn't, so I didn't.) I thought I had plenty of liquid food coloring, but it turned out that I only had green and blue. (In fact, thanks to hand-me-downs, three of green and two of blue. But no other colors.) I also had some powdered food coloring, which someone had given me and I haven't liked much how it works in frosting (frosting for birthday cakes being the only time I ever use food coloring normally), and I had no idea how it would work for dying eggs, but I figured I had nothing to lose.

 The colors looked fine, anyway. For purple I used red powder and blue liquid, but it was too blue, so I added red powder, which made it too red, so added blue liquid, etc...so by the time I put the eggs in, they were nearly black almost immediately. They were literally in for maybe a minute, and this is what they looked like:

 I left the others in longer. Red and orange also didn't take long, and after I added more blue (spilling a bit) to the blue bowl, they were also done, but green looked fairly awful no matter how much I added, and yellow just didn't get very yellow.

Here are the finished eggs. The "orange" one on the right was actually in the yellow dye along with the yellow one right below it, but it was a much darker egg to start with. Some of the eggs were from our chickens (the smallest ones--our chickens are still quite young), some from a friend's chickens, and some from the store.

I was planning to go up on the roof at 5:00 this morning to watch the sunrise, but  was less sure of my plan when I realized it was raining last night. I set my alarm for 5:00 anyway, because I did really enjoy the one time I did that before, in 2009.

Not that an alarm was necessary. The Cypriot idea of celebrating Easter includes a great deal of noise, all night long. There had already been firecrackers and bonfires at random times in the last few weeks, and a huge bonfire was being prepared at the end of our street. (The tradition here, not actually sanctioned by the Orthodox church, is to burn Judas Iscariot in effigy Saturday night.) By the time it got dark last night, the firecrackers and fireworks were almost constant. I went to bed early (well, for me...it was about 11:30), thinking that that would be a good idea if I did end up getting up at 5:00, but there was no hope of sleep. In addition to the firecrackers and occasional huge booms, there were a lot of voices of people calling to each other, and neighbors on two sides had parties with loud music going. At 11:50 the noises picked up and by midnight were so loud, I couldn't believe that the children were sleeping through it. I didn't even bother turning off my reading light until about 12:45, but there was still plenty of noise out there, as well as the smell of smoke from the bonfires. I still heard music around 3:00, and the last firecrackers at 5:30. (I've heard plenty more this afternoon, though.)

Still, at 5:00 I got up. I went outside to see if it was clear, and since it was, I got dressed, got a chair and the camera and my journal, and went up on the roof. (I have nothing against sitting actually on the roof normally, but it was wet from the rain, so that's why I took a chair!)

I miss my old Pentax K500 camera, which I bought when I was 11 and sold before we moved here, not having used it for nearly 15 years. With it, I could take photos that actually looked just like what I was seeing. There must be some kind of settings on our digital camera to override all the automatic stuff, but I don't know how to do that. This is of the tree in front of our house, with the moon to the right, taken at 5:18 a.m. East is actually slightly to the left of that, but there were too many streetlights to get any kind of decent photo while it was still dark, and even this one is with the flash. (I do know how to override the flash, but those were just completely dark.)

This next one was taken at 5:26 and it was actually quite a bit lighter than that. I still couldn't see to read, but light was definitely visible.

And this one, again, actually lighter than the photo shows, was taken at 5:33.

At which point Jörn called to me that Elisabeth had woken up, so I came down from the roof and went back to bed before sunrise had even happened.

Incidentally, while looking up on-line what time sunrise would be, I learned all sorts of new terms. "Nautical twilight" started at 5:16, so I was up there pretty much in time for that, but left again before it even got as far as civil twilight (5:47), and by the time of the actual sunrise at 6:13, I was long since fast asleep again. There is also an "astronomical twilight", which started at 4:44, but which would definitely not been visible with the city lights, and I would add the "avian twilight", which was when the birds started: 5:26. As well as the Elisabethan twilight (5:35) and the Helenic twilight (just before 6:00, I think, which is when Helen came to my bed and informed me that it was light now).

At 8:00 my alarm went again and I got up to make the Easter bread.

Braided to symbolize the Trinity of God the Father, God the Son (Jesus), and God the Holy Spirit, and in a circle to symbolize no beginning and no end. No good explanation for the eggs, though.

Just before breakfast, I cut Jacob's hair, which wasn't a good idea, as I forgot that it takes approximately ten times longer than cutting Lukas's hair. (Lukas's hair takes literally about two minutes, maybe less. Jacob's hair is a LOT thicker.) We couldn't wait for breakfast, though, because Marie, Elisabeth, and I needed to leave before 10:00, so the only photo I took doesn't have Jacob in it as he was still in the shower after his haircut:

We had some checkered green napkins, which Lukas folded into flowers, and there were two small chocolate eggs for each person.

Elisabeth and I went to Grace Church today (dropping Marie off at LCC on the way), where I loved the music and most of the rest of the service, as well. I was even liking the sermon and was disappointed when Elisabeth made it impossible for me to stay for that, and got the most out of time afterwards for lots of hugs and chatting. Marie joined us then, as I'd thought there was going to be a shared lunch, but it turned out that that was last week.

And now it's after 4:00 and Jörn and the other four children have been home for 10 minutes or so, and we're about to head out for our biweekly Sunday afternoon/evening with good friends. :-)

Easter Sunday, take one

Last night Marie asked me if we were celebrating Easter today (Western Easter) or next week (Eastern/Orthodox Easter). When I just kind of stared at her, she then asked if we'd thought about it at all, or just forgotten. Actually, Jörn and I did talk about it briefly, so hadn't entirely forgotten, but I was kind of wanting to go to the service at the Anglican church at 9:30, which is somewhat early for our family. So...we more or less decided to celebrate next week, instead. (Our celebration consisting mainly of breakfast together, the only morning of the year that we do that.) Marie was relieved, as that meant that she didn't need to get up until 9:00. (The church she attends starts at 10:00 and the one Jörn, the boys, and Katie attend starts whenever, Jörn usually heading out around 10:30, so it wasn't a big deal for Jörn to agree to stay home until I got back at 10:45, so that I didn't have to take the little ones.)
So...as I spent most of the night coughing and didn't sleep much, I got up earlier than usual and was actually ready to go in plenty of time and was playing (with) the piano at 9:00 when Marie appeared with a frantic look on her face. She'd forgotten that she needed to be at church at 9:15, not 10:00, to practice a skit that the youth were performing. It was kind of cool to be able to say so calmly no worries, I was happy to drive her. She got ready in record time and I dropped her off at LCC and got to St Helena's in time to look at the book table and buy a book before going inside.

I could have done without the greeting from the greeter, who patted my stomach (yes, literally touched it--so much for the reserved English!!) and said something sweet about it being nice to see young people expecting. I suppose I should have just happily accepted the adjective "young", considering that I'm 41 and have three grey hairs, but I mumbled something like, "Um, no, I'm not pregnant." She didn't miss a beat, just responded, "Well, then I hope for you that you will be." I should have left that well enough alone as well, but didn't, saying, "No, I don't think so, I do have six already." (Like whether we have any more children or not is hers or anyone else's business!!! It's NOT!!!!!) I have to give it to her for composure--she just said, "Six? That's wonderful--God bless you!" I finally got my hymnal and service sheet handed to me and escaped.

It didn't help much that as I was squeezing into my skirt this morning, Elisabeth (Elisabeth! She is not quite 22 months old!) watched me skeptically and said, "No, Mommy. Too small." In my opinion, it fits fine once it's on, but obviously, my opinion is wrong.

Anyway, I was pleased not to cough too terribly much during the service and it was good to take communion, the one thing that I've been missing with not going to church much over the last 15 months. Because of my cold, I didn't drink from the wine chalice though, just dipped my wafer in it. I discovered that wafers don't soak up much. (We always had whole-wheat bread, made by my mother, in the church where I grew up. It soaks up a lot more!) The very best part of the service, though, was hugging Sue during the passing of the peace (or whatever they call it there).

The first song was one that I knew but apparently nobody else did with the tune that the lady running the digital hymnal had chosen, because after the first verse the vicar suggested we sing it without accompaniment, and the tune that everyone then sang was one I didn't know! There were four or five songs, of which I knew two pretty well and enjoyed, even though I couldn't sing much with my cold. One of them I only knew the first verse, so after the service quickly scribbled down the other three verses. (We only sang the second verse as it was, which I thought was a pity.)

However, we didn't sing "Christ the Lord is Risen Today", so as soon as I got home, I looked that up in the Baptist hymnal. (I prefer Mission Praise, which mostly has easier arrangements, but Jacob had taken it with him to the house church.) I played that and a few more, appreciating that the Baptist hymnal has the songs by topic (Mission Praise is strictly alphabetical), and then discovered that the one I'd copied down is in there--I'd had no idea! So I played through that a few times and then took the words with me into the girls' room, where I spent about half an hour picking things up and throwing things away. (For the last several months, I've worked on their room most Sunday mornings, but I've either been to church or been sick for the last several weeks, so hadn't done anything for awhile, meaning it looked rather as though nobody had EVER tried to do anything with it...) Helen and Elisabeth are now singing the chorus with me and some of the verses. :-)

Then the three of us had lunch and afterwards I turned the computer on while nursing Elisabeth. No photos (not that there's really anything I would have photographed today, I guess) because I can't find the camera...hopefully we'll find that by next Sunday and I'll at least take a photo of the table set for breakfast, with braided bread (three parts, symbolizing the Trinity) and colored eggs (symbolizing nothing other than Tradition, really...) and probably pretty napkins. Last year Eastern and Western Easters were the same day, and I don't remember what we did the two years before that. The various Protestant churches here do different things, some celebrating one and some the other, some both, and some neither! Grace Church will be celebrating next week, as well as having a shared meal, so I might go there next week with the two little girls.

Being grateful for things

First of all, I'm of course grateful for my amazing husband and wonderful friends and I love hugs and cuddles and spending time with people. But after my last post complaining about Stuff, I thought I'd list some of the Stuff I'm grateful for today.

• A working washing machine. It was making horrible sounds a few days ago and I really thought those might be its dying throes. It's done another six or so loads since then, with no weird sounds, so seems okay. I've only spent one year and two months without a washing machine in my whole life, but that one year (when I was 18-19 and lived in Mexico) and those two months (six years ago, in Thailand) of washing all of my clothes by hand, or in the case of Thailand, washing all of the clothes for six of us by hand, mean that it is a very rare time that I put on a load of laundry without consciously being grateful for having a washing machine.
• Towels. When we got married, Jörn already had his own household and a tiny flat, and we told everyone that we did NOT need any gifts. People don't like that. We received various gifts after all, but about half of the people who gave us something gave us towels. It got to be quite a joke. We have lots and lots and lots of towels, no more than any two matching each other. Thursday night and yesterday, with two children throwing up, I used up ALL of the medium-sized towels, something I don't think we've ever done before.
• Lack of fashion consciousness. This means that I truly don't care that none of the towels match. (Okay, so that's not "stuff", but oh well.) 
• Sunshine and wind yesterday and today. I've already folded and returned to the closet an entire load of towels that I washed yesterday morning, as it is absoutely perfect drying weather. (Hmm...that's not "stuff" either...)
• Hand-me-downs. I hate shopping and have little to no interest in clothes, so hand-me-downs are wonderful. It also means that we have way more than enough clothes, so the fact that Helen and Elisabeth had to be changed multiple times yesterday only affected the amount of laundry, not the possibility of clothing them.
• Being 41. I thought turning 40 last year would make me feel grown-up, but it didn't. I was pleased to discover this morning that turning 41 doesn't, either. (I seem to be having a hard time remembering that I only wanted to list THINGS...)
• Hot water. In the shower this morning I reminded myself that it's a pleasure to enjoy hot water. In a very few months, I will be getting up early just so that I can have a cold shower, as there will be no more possibility of that during the day.
• Photo albums. I like a particular kind of photo album, which we always used to buy in Germany for about €5, but hadn't found here for less than €18. I still have several that Jörn bought in Austria a couple of years ago and that various friends brought me from Germany last year, but last week, Jörn found them at Lidl (a German store) here in Cyprus, for €5! I've spent much of the last week putting photos in albums, from the middle of November 2010 through the middle of May 2011. Jörn just got home with some more double-sided tape for me, so as soon as I've posted this, I'm going back to working on photos. I have photos printed through July 2011 and have August and September ready to order. I WILL catch up this year!
• My laptop. Okay, so the T and the Y and a few function keys no longer work, since Helen threw up on it a little over a year ago, but I don't actually go anywhere with it, so it's not a problem to use an external keyboard. I can do photo sorting and editing to my heart's content and not be blocking the family computer. I also use it for e-mail, Facebook, writing stuff, and occasionally blogging.
• The piano. So we got it second-hand and for a great price and it can't actually be tuned to pitch (well, maybe it can, but the tuner didn't recommend trying it), but not actually being a musician, it still felt like such a luxury when we got it three years ago. For the last few months, however, I've really been enjoying playing (with) it most days, and it's been exciting to watch Jacob teaching himself piano, and Marie improving dramatically. (Her instrument is violin, but I wouldn't let her start violin lessons five years ago until she'd had a year of piano lessons with me, but I really only taught her to read music and got her started.) All of the other children enjoy playing (with) the piano, too, and it's a luxury that I really love having.
• Bananas. Which my husband just reminded me that he also just bought, so I need to post this and go make my birthday cake. And THEN work on photos.

Stuff

Katie was saying today (and has said similar things several times in the last week or so) that she wishes we could live like in the Little House books, with chores to do and growing our own crops and milking cows and such. Of all children, this is the most ironic one for it to come from, because she also loves to dress up, wants earrings and high heeled shoes and make-up (she's SIX!!), wishes we had a bigger house so she could have her own room, and she and Helen have the biggest room as it is, which is barely visible because of all the STUFF they have in there, none of which Katie is willing to part with, nor is she willing to put any of it away. And she doesn't eat much in the way of vegetables, so I'm not sure why she's so eager to harvest crops. Oh, and she says that she wishes they had a bigger room, that we should just make the living room into the girls' room.

However, she's been parting with a lot of it lately, and hasn't even noticed...

We have a separate flat with our house, with a separate, locked, entrance, and nobody is staying there at the moment. Last week I put all of the stuffed animals (cuddly toys), a big basket full of dress-up accessories (shoes, hats, gloves, etc.), and a large laundry basket full of bags (handbags, backpacks, etc.--all "toys" belonging to the children) down there, the next day added all of the big dolls and some miscellaneous stuff lying around. They haven't noticed. In fact, last Friday we had a visitor with high-heeled shoes, which Katie and Helen took turns borrowing and making loud noises with, and then Helen said excitedly that in their dress-up clothes (again, a translation for the non-Americans: "dress-up clothes" are "fancy dress" clothes, costumes (not swimming suits, SA friends!) and funny hats and old grown-up clothes, etc., for imaginative play) they had Mommy's wedding shoes, which had high heels. (Not VERY high heels, but they do make a lot of noise when being worn by a three-year-old.) Helen went to look for them, but came back without them...because they're downstairs, of course, but there's so much OTHER stuff in their room, that I'm sure that she just thought they were buried under something else. She didn't say anything, and neither did I.

This evening I added two of the three doll buggies (the two collapsible umbrella strollers), all of the doll clothes, the small dolls, the toy kitchen stuff, the box of vehicles, and the box of plastic and wooden animals. That was after they went to bed, though, so I'll be curious to see if they notice in the morning. Last summer I did a major sorting out and labeling of the girls' room, complete with little pictures. Even Elisabeth is able to see the drawing of cars and put cars there. In fact, Elisabeth is the only one who DOES it. I have cleaned it up (tidied it up, for my non-American friends, not actually literally "cleaned" much...) quite a few times since, sometimes with their "help", more often without. Katie thanks me profusely and explains that she's now going to keep it nice and neat, and the next day, everything is all over everywhere, and she throws a tizzy fit if I ask her to pick up "just the books" or even "just that doll". It's too much work and not fair.

They still have the dress-up clothes, Duplo blocks, wooden (Brio and other brands) train set, building blocks, lots and lots and lots of books, one doll buggy with whatever is still in it (blankets and pillows and maybe even one doll), too many chairs (oh, maybe I should put some of the little chairs downstairs, too), all the jewelry and hair-thingies, and plenty of Miscellaneous, not to mention bits and pieces of the categories that are already downstairs. In the living room we have Baby Toys (more building blocks, Primo, stacking cups, wooden puzzles, rattles, and more Miscellaneous), the box with regular Lego is in the boys' room (not that it's visible, under all of THEIR junk, but I've just been focused on trying to get the girls' room in order for the last six or more months), and we have books in every room of the house except for the bathroom (my German husband won't allow that) and the laundry/shower room (they'd be ruined by the humidity). None of the children have much Playmobile anymore, because over a year ago I declared that any Playmobile I found outside of children's rooms automatically became Mine. In my (locked) closet in the girls' room, I have a box that is actually labeled "Mommy's Playmobile", and it is full to overflowing. And last October my friend Peggy brought the children an entire suitcase full of second-hand Playmobile, which they played with for the two and a half weeks Peggy was here, but which I said they couldn't bring upstairs until there was a place to put it. So that Playmobile lives in the storage room downstairs.

Editing to add some photos from last October:

Here is the girls' room last October 2nd, not even at its worst.

And here it is after I spent several hours working on it.

 Helen decided that the step-stool made a good bunk-bed for some dolls. Please note: they DO own a LOT of clothes for the dolls, but for some reason, always strip them.

I have to agree with Katie. Things would be a lot easier if she had A Doll, and that was It. And one dress for weekdays and one for Sundays, and one pair of shoes. And if we all had the equivalent, we could ALL live in the living room, which is probably bigger than some of the houses in which Laura Ingalls Wilder lived.

Birthday season

Helen, who is nearly three and a half, has been somewhat obsessed over the last few weeks with talking about when people's birthdays are. She was asking over and over again when each person's birthday is, but for the last week or so, she's just been informing us over and over again, although usually just of the month, not the day. We've gotten a few really funny conversations out of this, too, such as last week when she proudly informed Jörn that her birthday is "in September thith." Jörn said, "Ja, das weiss ich." ("Yes, I know.") I then added, "You know why Papa knows? Because he was there!" Helen opened her already very big eyes even wider and said, "Oh!" And then I said, "You know what? I was there, too!" To which, with EVEN wider eyes, Helen said, "Wow! That was very nice of you, Mommy!" Just for the record, yes, we HAVE explained that she grew inside of me, and also that a birthday is remembering the day that the baby came out, but it still seemed quite a revelation to her that her parents were present at her birth.

So. The children's birthdays are all fairly close together, with three in June, one in July, and two in September. We've had a sort of policy for quite awhile now that we don't start planning anyone's birthday party until the previous birthday is over with. I think we might have to relax on that a little bit in June, though, as there are eight days between the first two birthdays and then ten more days to the third one. This "policy" doesn't, by any means, stop any of the children from talking about what they want for their birthday, what they want to do, what they want to eat, what the cake should be, etc. Katie's the main one doing this all the time, in fact, she started planning her seventh birthday BEFORE her sixth birthday last year, because not everything she was planning would fit in one birthday. But it does mean that I don't have to commit to anything. I don't know what we're doing to celebrate her birthday this year, but it's a good guess that her party won't be on the day, as she will be spending the day in an airplane. (Along with Helen, Elisabeth, and me--just the four of us are going to Germany for a week, but that's another topic.) But I am NOT planning it until Lukas's birthday, which is a full 33 days earlier, is over with!

Since Katie talks about it a LOT, we remind her fairly often that there are other birthdays to get through first, and I suspect that it's because she recites them so often that Helen has gotten interested. "First Mommy's, and then Papa's, then Jacob's, Elisabeth's, and Lukas's, and then MINE! And then Helen's and Marie's. And then Christmas and then we start over!" Every time she says that, I just agree with her and leave it at that, but every time she says it, I'm thinking inside that no, my birthday is NOT the first birthday of the year.

The first birthday of the year in our family is today, but it's one of those birthdays that nobody celebrates, because it's also the same person's deathday. And I'm sitting here on a sunny Saturday morning writing about this, smiling and laughing with any children who come bouncing through the living room, knowing that none of them even know the date (although the two oldest do remember the event, and all of them know about it), nor does my husband remember, and that it won't do anybody any good to be miserable. I suppose, in a way, I AM "celebrating." I'm certainly remembering, and writing it down here so it won't be forgotten, but I'm also celebrating the life exuded by the children I have here.

Birthday season officially opens here with my birthday next month, and the concentrated, stressful birthday season opens in June. But for me, the list will always go: T, Mommy, C, Jörn, Jacob, Elisabeth, Lukas, A's due date, Katie, Helen, T's due date, Marie, C's due date, A. And then Christmas and then we start again.

I think it's pretty cool that, although we repeat months rather a lot, we don't have a single day of the month the same. With 11 people and 14 dates (if I add in the due dates of the three babies we lost), we have 1, 3, 5, 7, 8, 10, 11, 12, 14, 17, 21, 22, 24, and 25. I know it's silly, but I like that fact. When I remember (which isn't always), I sing a silly little "Happy Birthday" on the day each month to each of the children. Okay, so that doesn't work in Greek or Spanish or French or probably a whole bunch of other languages, but in English (and German), the word "birthDAY" doesn't implicitly refer only to the (yearly) ANNIversary, even if that's how we generally understand and use the word, so I'm happy to reappropriate it.

Either way, I'm not really singing "Happy Birthday" to T today.

Jacob's chickens

A few months ago a friend asked us if we wanted chickens. "We" didn't, but Jacob did. After much discussion and many promises on Jacob's part to be 100% responsible for the chickens, we finally agreed. The friend kept them for us until the middle of January, when they (the chickens, not the friends) moved into a converted doghouse on the balcony outside the boys' room. (This same balcony is also outside of the girls' room, but the doors to it aren't exactly accessible...) Jacob had made a new door for the doghouse and rigged up a heating light. Our friend Richard took a photo of the chickens shortly after they moved in.

Most of the wood for the house came from one of the two crates that we had our things shipped in to Cyprus three years ago. My brother had remodeled them into a clubhouse for the children, which has been played with intensely by all of them, so it was much to my surprise that the vote was unanimous to dismantle half of the clubhouse to get the wood. I know I have a photo somewhere of the whole clubhouse, but if I wait until I find it, I'll never get this blogpost finished, so here's a photo of the half that is left, with Lukas climbing down from the roof. The other crate was in front of this one and didn't have anything exciting, just one diamond-shaped window and a whole side off. The part left has a loft inside (so one is standing in the loft when looking through that round window) and just the one small door, so it's the best part of the clubhouse anyway.

Jacob really did do the work almost completely independently, so I never thought to take photos. It was finished on February 10th. If you look really closely, you can see ventilation openings around the top with wire stapled over them. I did about half of that stapling. That was my complete contribution. Here, the chicken house is already finished, and Jacob and Lukas are putting cardboard down inside it.

Jacob being Jacob.

This photo should be up with the other one of the clubhouse, but it's too much trouble to try to move it. It shows very well how big the door is--Elisabeth, 20 months, just barely has to duck to go through.

Jacob encouraging the chickens to come out. He did let them out on the balcony most days (which reminds me...I need to remind him to clean the balcony!!), so they weren't stuck in this little house all the time, and they're fairly tame.

No, I have no idea which chicken this is. Four of the chickens are: Meggie, Lady Cinnamon, Fun Roon-Gifford (named after the Van Roon-Gifford family, and called Rooney, for short), and Scramble. The fifth one is called Simon James Alexander Ragsdale by Jacob (Simon for short), Megan by Helen, and Chocolate Mousse by Katie. None of the chickens answer to any name anyway, so I suppose Chicken Number Five doesn't really mind.

The chickens in their new house.

On Saturday the 11th, I took pity on Jacob and spent about six hours helping him with the coop, fitting and stapling chicken wire. Jacob built every bit of the frame with wood salvaged from rubbish heaps, and built it entirely on his own, all I did was staple wire on. He built the door Sunday morning before he left for church, and when I got home from church (I went to a different, much shorter, service, but that's a different topic) I finished the wire on the front and above the door. The wire across two-thirds of the top, two-thirds of the front, the door and section above the door, and the ventilation areas on the house, was from a pile of rectangles of chicken wire found by the boys in the mountains last summer, probably from illegal trappers. Jacob would have done the whole coop with that, but here I took pity on myself and sent him to buy a few meters of complete wire for the top between the house and the fig tree and the third on the left, partly going around the fig tree. There was enough to use it down the right-hand side, as well.

Jacob had hung the door with hinges taken from a closet door Lukas had brought home from somewhere, but hadn't made a latch yet. I couldn't wait to release the chickens, though, so held the door closed like this:

On the house, you can faintly see "Jacob's" written in chalk. Lukas did that at some point.

This photo is taken from above, by the fig tree. Our house is on two levels, with a steep driveway down to the bottom level, so both levels are "ground floor". The chickens are next to the garage (which we don't use for the car) on the bottom level, and to take this photo I was standing at the street-level, near the entrance to the stairs up to the roof.

The chickens seem happy with their new home, now we're just waiting for eggs. Near the beginning of this project, Jacob asked if we'd pay for necessary supplies, and when I said, "Well...they're YOUR chickens, aren't they?" he answered back lightning-fast, "Okay, I'll pay, but then you have to buy the eggs." I re-thought that one, and yes, we've paid for the supplies. Which consisted of some wire, a box of screws, a box of staples, a water-thingie (Jacob was happy to use a yogurt pot, but when I saw one for three Euros at the warehouse where we bought the flour, I couldn't pass it up...), and food. If we had to pay for the labor, the chickens would never pay for themselves! However, we figure that once they start laying, they'll need maybe a month to pay us back on the actual cash-out-of-pocket. Jacob will keep track, and after that we'll re-negotiate.