As in past years, my little blog goes a bit quiet around the holidays. Especially this year, which brought me home for the first time in two years. With the last Christmases spent in Berlin, it’s wonderful to be home again.
Written on the first morning:
After a long but smooth flight, I have arrived in Oregon and am ready to throw myself completely into the holidays. Writing at 5am in the quiet kitchen of my parent’s home, I have fresh cantaloupe and warm coffee with a view of a blooming poinsettia and the gingerbread house my mom made with my little niece. Soon my younger sister and our black lab/boxer Tauri should begin to stir and we will bundle up for a morning walk to the ridge over a Christmas tree farm with a range of mountains as a backdrop. The main task of the day is to send a Christmas package to my grandmother.
Okay, all is not perfect. I have serious jet leg from the nine-hour time difference and also need a bit more time to adjust to the general American cheerfulness in place of the more blasé attitude of the Dutch (which I really do love). The layover in Seattle was a bit of a shock to my system. In any case, it is so good to be home.