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December 7th: In the graveyard walking towards his coffin, next to the Ooij church, also the same graveyard as my grandparents are buried. 
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December 3rd: My uncle, Aloys died. He was a farmer in the Ooij area near Nijmegen, and 18 months older than my father, dying of congestion of the lungs at 74. It was sad but he had had a good life, I think. He was a kind quiet man. Tama and I took the train that morning and had a lot of bad luck with late or cancelled trains. Three hours later we got to Nijmegen and the bus had just left. So I took a bus across the city and for a change the bus driver didn't admonish me for wanting to get to where I could hitchhike. Then the very first car to pass us, stopped, and took us right to the front door of the church. Whew! We late but not too late for the service. Left: Oom Jan is in the electric wheelchair and on the right are some of Aloy's daughters and granddaughters. The woman on the extreme right is my aunt Josepha. |
| We all then went to a cafe for soup and coffee and I took photos of aunts, uncles, cousins, and their children. |
Aunt Josepha, a grandchild of Aunt Din, Aunt Bertha and Aunt Din (standing). 
Albert, Aunt Marie, Aunt Din and grandchild, Diny and Hans.
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Oom Jan and Rien, a neighbour.
Lianne and Sanne.
Karin and Karlijn.
<- Perry, Anny, Rene, Aunt Bertha, & Els. |
 ....and the baby of the year!
Sanne, Karlijn, Daphne. |
 Sanne, Karlijn, Karin, Daphne and Tama. |
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 Marc, Elco, Nick & Ruud. <- Lianne, Loes, Gerard & Patrick. |
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 Marc, Elco, Nick & Ruud. <- Lianne, Loes, Gerard & Patrick. |
Marc, Elco, Nick & Ruud. <- Lianne, Loes, Gerard & Patrick. |
Omm Jan has a new flatmate. Katie and Tama cooking -> |
Jacqueline's Birthday card drawn by Toroa. Left to Right: Tama at the computer writing a poem, Sen cooking in the kitchen, Toroa with his huge schoolbag being followed by a flock of girls and Sonja on the telephone talking to Jacqueline. |
mid December Jaqueline's Birthday ...more to come... |
Tama working on a poem at the laptop.
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Poem by Tama about his parents My father and mother are married, And they don't need to be tied. There never come apart, Not unless papa lets a fart. There like magnets to gether, Like the hairs of a feather. When they collide, They will never separate their hide. When they are as stuck as rope, Then you loose all hope. Nope, Not even the pope, Would separate them, Nor somebody who could brake a gem. Every night when we are reading, She comes in and is very misleading. She makes us stop in the middle of our story, When Lyra* is in her dormitory. Then comes the worst, Witch is the first. She starts kissing, But she keeps missing. That is why it takes so long, Believe me, I am not wrong. * Lyra is a character in the novel Northern Lights, Sen was reading. |
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Wie is er in het land De sint staan op het pand. Hij klimt door de schoorsteen heen Maar komt vast te zitten met zijn teen. Daardoor komt hij niet in een, Maar in twee stukken, Als hij de schoorsteen komt rukken. Daarna werd hij verbrand, En allemaal met de hand. Dat was het laatste van de sint, En ik geef je een hint: Een bekende heeft hem verbrand, In een grote mand. Maar toen vloog de mand in de fik, Het enige wat overbleef is zijn pik. Die heb ik gepakt en thuis gebracht. Nu heb ik hem in mijn macht. Het as ging in een glanzend pot, Zonder spier of bot. De pot ging in een graf, Waardoor niemand meer om hem gaf. Wie is er in het land De sint staan op het pand. Hij klimt door de schoorsteen heen Maar komt vast te zitten met zijn teen. Daardoor komt hij niet in een, Maar in twee stukken, Als hij de schoorsteen komt rukken. Daarna werd hij verbrand, En allemaal met de hand. Dat was het laatste van de sint, En ik geef je een hint: Een bekende heeft hem verbrand, In een grote mand. Dat as ging in de rivier. Een ding had ik wel, zijn nier. Die heb ik gepakt en thuis gebracht. Nu heb ik hem in mijn macht. Door het as was de rivier nooit meer vruchtbaar geweest, En als je nu vraagt wie iedereen haat het meest, Dan zeggen ze allemaal: Sint Nicolaas. En de liefste is de Paas. En waarom de paas, en niet sint nicolaas want de paas is iets, en nicolaas is niets. De sint is allang vergeten, Niemand zou het merken, al zouden ze hem eten. Groote spiegel aan de wand, Wie is het domste van het land. De sint natuurlijk, die gaat boven alles, Hij is dommer dan een taalles. Die hoort in een gekkenhuis, Met om hem heen een dwangbuis. De enige reden waarom ze hem niet oppakken, Is omdat hij ze dan gaat zakken. Daar staat hij dan in zijn leuke pak, Met over zijn shouder een zak. Hij geeft alle cadeautjes weg, Lege dozen want hij heeft de inhoud verstopt in zijn heg. Dat geeft niets want de kinderen gooien ze toch in de prullenmand, Die op het pand, Aan de rand. Als sint er is is er groot feest, Maar de sint geeft eigenlijk voor het meest, Voor zichzelf. Maar eigenlijk is hij niet zo een geweldige elf. |
Tama's poem about Saint Nicholas is on the left. I asked him to make a gentler version for school, which is the now the middle part of the poem here. In this poem the Saint gets among other events, burnt, eaten, put in a madhouse, and is forgotten. |
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Poem by Tama for Sen's aunt Carol who likes God Have a very merry Kristmas and a happy new year please do, dear God is everywhere even in what you wear he is always standing next to you even when you don't send him a nice hymn |
One of Tama's drawings with his self-made charcoal. |
More of December Tama's charcoal discovery Tama discovered that a matchstick could be a drawing utensil. I said, yes, he could burn a twig on the balcony to make more charcoal. Then Sen told Tama to put out the fire he had created on the balcony in one of Sen's best cooking pots. I hadn't realised that Tama was burning such a big twig:) But he had burnt enough to make a few decent drawings. |
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December 11th: The Sugar Celebration This is the day after the Muslim fast and Tama's school celebrates this with a concert and food and drink. Here Tama is playing some Irish tunes being assisted by Malik, one of the teachers. 
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Most of the children sung or danced western pop or rap except for the youngest class who sung in Turkish and for two in the highest class who danced a Moroccan dance.
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 Afterwards many children, including Tama, went to play on the ice. The canals have been iced over for about a week now.
A few days later, Toroa went to an indoor ice rink with his class and liked ice-skating. |
| Tama at the Bahai feast of Questions at Fernanda's place.
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December 17th:
At my work
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In September our new manager changed the rooms around. Now all 4 webdesigners sit in one room. Here are Daphne and Ron on the window side of the room. Note the teabags as window decoration. Leidi and I sit, back to back, on the other side.
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 Most of the internet department in the stairway.
Since September, one more webdesigner has been hired, four more concept developers and two more text editors have been hired. Left to Right: Leidi, Femke, Carla, Susanne, Errol, Ron, Karen, Betsy, Daphne, Moniek, Karin, Natasja, and Oscar. 
Right: Moniek, Ron, Gabrielle, Oscar, Leidi. |
 Then we ended our monthly department meeting with a high tea party and a farewell to Nathalie (the blue thing she is holding is a lamp).
This is partly a reference to each person in our department being invited to buy a lamp for our desk (I haven't yet --for it to be an artistic statement, I need time :) Karin is pouring tea on the left and Susanne our new manager is on the right. |
 Then to round off the year, Karin and Gabrielle (above on the right) handed out leaves, branches, candles, pots and decorations with the assignment that we were to make a Christmas decoration for ourselves. It was fun. On the lower left is the beginnings of Leidi's double-potted creation, with my twin-towers (red candles) behind it.
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 Christmas was quiet
Tama as catepillar |
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Choose another month |