Stilts & Water Balls

Oh my gosh. So much in my head. I guess I'll have to go chronologically, which I always feel like is kind of a cop-out,  but it's my only way to catch up.

Sunday: left David's, overnight train to Amsterdam. But you knew that. 

Monday: woke up in Amsterdam, went to Kat's house, played tourist all day. I got all the stuff done that was on my to-do list: rode a bike around, got rained on, bought new shoes (I didn't have anything weather appropriate. Dang calendar tricked me into thinking it was summer), found an English copy of Anne Frank's Diary, went to a museum, wandered around some more, ate fries, got a new sim card. A very successful day. Then I came home, re-met Kat, and we ate food.

Tuesday: Dad, you would have loved Tuesday. I slept in really late, and then Kat and I went on a long bike ride through the country. It only took a couple minutes to get out of the city, and then there were lots of canals and windmills and sheep and cows and water birds and lots and lots of flat bike trails. Flat bike trails are my favorite. I could ride forever on flat bike trails. I got distracted by looking around so much, a couple times I thought I was going to ride right into a cannal. But don't worry, I didn't. 

hoogle creation

Then we came home, changed, and went to the organic garden in the neighborhood hwere we stayed for. . . a really, really long time. I picked things and collected slugs and composted stuff and avoided the buckets of urine (not kidding) and helped make a hoogle bed. What's a hoogle bed? Oh, well I'm glad you asked. A hoogle bed is an extrodinarily labor intensive way of gardening. When she (garden master) told us that, and that we'd have to shovel a lot, in my head I was like, "Little do you know, I was just part of a team that practically shoveled a house into existence. This will be nothing." (Shout out to Thailand team!). Anyways, I was wrong - she was right. Dig off all the plant, pile lots and lots of sticks, soak cardboard, fill all the holes between the sticks with cardboard, sift dirt, mix sifted dirt with gross smelly water that has nutrients, spread mud on top of stick/cardboard pile, another layer of soaking cardboard, more sifted mud, run away when they pour urine on top of everything, more mud, more soaking card board, more sifted mud, tree on top of everything, more soaking cardboard, more sifted mud, stab holes through the top layer, plant a whole bunch of stuff. I had no idea how exhausting it would be. Or what I was getting myself into when Kat was like, "Tuesdays I go to the garden. Want to come?" And I was like, "ya, sure." Some people get real joy from that stuff. Like my dad. Dad, you would have loved it. I don't think I'm one of those people, though. It was fun, but I wans't like, "I feel so alive shoveling this dirt!" But then we picked flowers after, and I was really happy. I like flowers. (P.S. The point of a hoogle is that it absorbs and holds all the moisture, so you never have to water it).

Then (still on Tuesday) we came home. I made another "Thank you for letting me stay in your house" apple pie. This one had flowers on it, because Kat is a bit of a flower child. She's awesome. She's very go with the flow, travels where the breeze takes her, saves slugs, feels bad for the bugs the wind shield smashes, fun, stilt walking, talkative, and creative. And we had dinner sitting at her coffee table sitting on the floor in her living room. Under her cannabis plants. Welcome to the Netherlands.

apple pie. . . without a pie pan

failing at being in the ball

Wednesday (today): Woke up SO EARLY. Pre-7:00. Do you remember the last time I did that? No, me neither. Okay, that's not true. I did that in Belgium to catch a train, but that doesn't negate the fact that it's still quite early. So, woke up early, got dressed, ate, Martina picked us up, we went and picked up stuff and put it in the van, picked up more stuff and put it in the van, picked up more stuff and more people and it all went in the van, and then we drove to the northern part of Holland for a show, and I fell asleep in the car. Car arrived. Unloaded stuff. More unloading. Set up stuff. More setting up. More setting up. Got to go inside a giant plastic ball, which has been a long time dream of mine (not kidding). Got to go inside a giant plastic ball ON WATER which has been an even bigger long time dream of mine. It was AWESOME. So difficult with two people in there. I don't think I managed to stand up once. Then I helped people get ready. I body painted Kat, which was cool. (Her: "Hey, can you paint me? There's no full mirror." Me: "Uhh. . . okay. Ya."). Then I got to watch them do their stilt walking show, and I was the fog technicion. Total control over the fog machine. I felt very powerful. And short. It was really, really fun to be a part of the show. Obviously I wasn't in it, but I like the behind the scenes work. I feel oddly important walking around with my little fog machine controllers, giving the musicians the cue to start, being able to solve all the problems that other people can't when they're in costume. It's super fun. Then the show was over. Take down. Take down. Take down. Clean up. Clean up. Clean up. Pack up. Pack up. Pack up. Drive. Drive. Drive. Unload. Drive. Unload. At this point, we had unloaded everything into the first floor of the artist builing, and I was like, "if we have to bring this stuff upstairs, I'm going to cry." (It was almost 9pm by this point - long day). Then they were like, "Okay, this goes upstairs," and I started crying. Just kidding. 

(break to skype with stuart. he's pretty cool, and it's the first time in awhile we've been on the computer at the same time)

I didn't really start crying. Don't worry. Instead, I brought lots of stuff upstairs. Then we got back in the car. Then we came home. Then we ate apple pie and grilled cheese sandwiches. 

Oh my gosh, I'm exhausted. I almost said, "I don't know why I'm so tired," but that would be a dumb thing to say. I'm exhausted because I had a big day. 

There was SO MUCH MORE that I wanted to write for you. Stuff about how cool their act was, what Amsterdam/the Netherlands is like in general (Santa Cruz + Berkeley on steroiods, amplified to the degree of a whole country), about how I got free ice cream (ftw!), and other clearly important things. But, alas, those will have to wait. Ha, I say that, but then I rarely come back to stuff like that. Because then I move on. Tomorrow we're going to a festival thing with cloggs in the morning and in the evening a dance party thing where Kat is a butterfly. 

please notice my free ice cream