Since this house is not the only thing happening in my life, and this blog is not only about the house, I will change the subject just slightly. Hmmm, let's see, let's write about food! The other night the three of us went out for a quick dinner at a local burger place. It is an Austin landmark and they have very good veggie burgers, it is cheap (relatively) and kid-friendly--something that is of course important to us now considering we haven't gotten into the groove of hiring baby-sitters yet.
So as we were sitting there, eating, talking, and entertaining Evelina (really that took most of our attention) I did suddenly notice that I was eating my food with my hands, from a small metal tray lined with paper. I had poored ketchup on the paper and was dipping my (unpeeled!) fries into the ketchup on the paper. Now for all you American readers there is nothing peculiar about that. And there hasn't be anything odd about it to me either. But suddenly, this evening, I realized once again, how odd this is for non-Americans. I suddenly, momentarily was a Belgian again.
I think now that we are directing quite a bit of our attention to this house in Belgium (oops, I am talking about it again) and thinking about living there again, I will continue to experience these brief flashes of non-Americanness. I have been in Texas, in the USA, for so long now that mostly evertyhing here is second nature to me. Usually it takes having a visitor to bring back the foreigness about it all (no pun intended.)

Now look at this photo I took in a local restaurant in Roswell, New Mexico in July 2005. I was taking this sort of photos then because we had just returned from living in Italy where I had taken many many table shots, and because, having just returned I did feel like a tourist in the US all over again. But look at how the bread rolls are served: on paper, in a plastic basket. To Belgians, this is weird.

Just like serving drinks in huge plastic cups with straws (for adults!) is nearly unheard of. And this is a shot taken in the burger-joint I started this triade out with. Sorry to all of you Belgians who now wanted a visual of the ketchup and fries on paper... I will have to procure that next time I go for veggie burgers.
Not that we don't combine fries and paper, mind you! In fact, one of our most famous "dishes" (not a dish at all) consists of just that, fries (double-fried) in a conical paper tote smothered in mayonnaise (the fries, not the bag!). Hmmmmm. I promise photos of this after the May trip.
Here is another Belgian staple, now that I am going this way.

Mussels and fries, or since we had it in Brussels, moules avec pommes frites. Not my favorite, but one of Robert's. With, of course, a good dark Belgian ale.
But I digress (of course this entire post as well this entire blog is one big digression). I was writing about "deja-vues" of foreigness. All these things and customs I have gotten so used to over the many years can seem suddenly foreign again to me if I only pay attention. If I only try to remember what it was like to come here for the first time. I will never by the way, forget the very sight I saw stepping foot outside of JFK the very first time I came to this country: a sea of yellow cabs going this way and that, standing in line noisily. I was overwhelmed by smells and sounds and business of people, waving, yelling, running. It was sweltering, I hadn't slept in over 24 hours and I thought "well, here you are, you made it to America." (Of course, at that time, I did think in Dutch still.) That was 1987.
Well, here I am now, 20 years later (ohmigod!) and this might be my last year in the US at least for a while. So that, not the burger in the basket, is the other thing I will write about from time to time. I have plenty of pictures to accompany any digressions I choose to divulge in. I will leave you with one of my favorite visuals from Texas, that amazing horizontal line underscoring that vast deep blue sky. Ya can't get that in Belgium either.

Greetings, from Texas, with love.