Palais Het Loo

We found Juliana’s room, so we took a picture for Aunt Juli. The girls’ enthusiasm waned when they found out we wouldn’t be seeing any real live princesses. Holland does have three, but they don’t live here. 

O liked this bear rug.

A cake shaped like a swan.

Inside the palace, it was dimly lit and opulent. There were a lot of things that really shouldn’t be touched, and guides everywhere to watch your children almost touch things. 

It was better outside.

Wiggles

Whenever we visit Oma, I talk to her in my very best Dutch, which isn’t actually very best at all, and Kevin occupies the children, interjecting the occasional question about family history.  Between the Kevin and Oma, I am learning quite a bit about our past. 

From today: Oma was engaged to Opa at 16, married at 24; the same age her mother married. 

I also asked how she felt when my father decided to go to Canada at age 20. “He was only going for a year,” she said. She paused. “But when the year was up, he was already married.”

Oma offered to hold KE for the photo Oom Adri was taking, but he wouldn’t sit still. I like to tell him he’s a barrel of monkeys these days. It’s hard to keep the lid on, and I don’t know that I really want to. 

Openlucht museum

As soon as I stepped into the bridge with O, he started to bounce the bridge. Just like his father, that one. 

 

Making sure KE had a good time too. Not a bad thing, to be just like this man.

 

When we got to the herb garden (patterned after a monastery garden from around 867AD, the children ran into it. "We were pretending it was Mr. MacGregor's garden." said K.

 

And here's how you go sledding when you have no snow!

 

I think the ice is frozen from beneath; at this temperature, everything should be slushy. 

 

We finished up at the town square, where E, K, and I played a carnival game, Kevin hit the bell with the strong man's hammer, and the children rode the carousel. If you look closely, you can see O driving the VW bus.

 

E knocked down a surprising lot of tins, and won a prize: a droppie candy! I probably shouldn't admit this, with her Dutch heritage, but she's never even tried one. 

She ate the head off (it was a cat), and I got the rest. She's always been good at sharing. 

OpenAir Museum

We started off with a tram ride to the second stop. We began to look into the historic buildings, and the children asked when we could go back on the tram. We tried a sample of apple pear stroop, with no added ingredients - delicious! The children asked when we could go back on the tram. We peeked into a worker's house from Tilburg, going back in time with each window we looked into.  The children asked about the tram...

So we hopped back on and went all the way around the village.  The children were not the only ones who really wanted to ride the tram! 

 

All the drivers and conductors had mustaches. I wondered if it was in the job description. "Must be able to grow a moustache if hired." 

Kevin need not apply. 

When we got off, 

 

we found a stable full of vintage children's games. I was happy to see shuffleboard, 

 

... sad to discover that I'd lost my touch. Of course, I was holding Kent on one arm; I could say he was cramping my style. But then again, this is who I am now; a lady with a baby attached. 

 

This was a favourite part; one farm wife let the children roast "broodjes" (bread dough spiralled around a stick). We sat around the fire together turning our sticks. "I could stay here all day," said Kevin. 

 

 

 

We did a shrubbery maze, patterned after one from Amsterdam that had been destroyed in WW2.

 

And then we found the playground. "Take a picture here;" said Kevin, "this is what they will remember."

 

To be continued...