Big Boy’s Toy

(This blog is for my B-I-L. Enjoy, R!!)

I have very little interest in vehicles, unless, of course, you’re talking about a big SUV or four wheel drive pickup. My husband, however, has always dreamed of having a little sporty car. The move to Europe has enabled him to tap into a huge market of available ‘import’ cars. He spent weeks researching, finally deciding on a BMW. He found a great car in Dusseldorf, Germany, about a two hour drive. Import regulations for Canada require a vehicle be at least 15 years old in order to avoid modification requirements. Perry was able to find a 15 year-old, two- door black coupe in immaculate condition with very low mileage. Very –well maintained, brand-new tires. You could eat off the engine. Even I was impressed.

In order to register a vehicle in Belgium, it must meet safety requirements. This vehicle had been inspected in Germany; however, we had to have it done here as well. Belgium has different rules.

FYI, every car has a speed rating. This particular car has a speed rating of 220 km/hr. Not that we will ever drive 220 km/hr, but that matters not. The speed limit in Belgium is 120 km/hr. It matters not.  Before the car could be safety passed, we had to put another set of tires on it. That done, the car passed. Now we are able to register the car. FYI, there is no such thing as ‘temporary’ registration in Belgium. And it takes two weeks to get the plates. Finally, they arrived yesterday.

Today, he was finally able to drive it to work. :)

The REAL Waterloo

Cities, towns and universities have been named for it. Movies have been made of it. ABBA has sung about it. But yesterday, Perry and I toured it.

The historic Battle of Waterloo took place not far from here (about 20 km) almost 200 years ago. The Battle lasted only one day, but the cost in lives lost was high. Sixty-seven thousand French troops, led by Emperor Napoleon were defeated by sixty-five thousand allied (British, Dutch, Prussian and Belgian) troops, led by General Wellington, with a total of 9500 men killed and 33,000 wounded. The site of the battle was strategically important because Waterloo was on the road to Brussels and the terrain was such that Wellington could position his troops on the higher ridges, giving him a tactical advantage. The road was important as it was a direct route to Brussels and Napoleon’s next target.

We took a guided battlefield tour to get an appreciation of how difficult a position the French were in. Wellington had selected this particular spot for its geographic advantage. His troops were holding the higher ground. There are still remnants of some of the farms which had been used as strong-holds by both sides.

The battlefield area is also home to the Butte du Lion, or Lion’s Mound. This monument, completed in 1826, is actually a 45 meter mound of dirt, erected by King William I to commemorate the soldiers who lost their lives that day. The location is the spot where William II of the Netherlands (heir to the throne) was wounded. The mound, containing 300,000 cubic meters of earth, was constructed completely by hand by ‘botteresses’ who carried the dirt on their backs in baskets. It took 3 years to complete.

The climb to the top of the mound, where an iron lion stands guard, gives an incredible vantage point to get an overall view of the entire battlefield.

There are 225 steps to the top.

Anal or Analytical - You Decide

Each time we move, part of the process is re-hanging the artwork. Each house presents its own unique set of challenges. Perry is always in a hurry to “get the pictures hung”, which makes him feel like we have really moved in.  I prefer to live in the house for a bit so I can get the ‘feel’ of things. For the most part, it’s straight forward. Certain pieces go in certain rooms, certain pieces are arranged together.

With this new house, everything was completed with the exception of two large pieces. One piece is a large antique world map that was going to be hung over the buffet. The challenge here was not the placement, but the sheer weight of the picture. Our house has concrete walls so it’s not as simple as finding a stud and driving a nail. But special masonry wall hangers solved that problem.

The other issue was a 3x5 foot framed mirror that was going over the sofa, BUT, not alone. Therein lays the problem; to figure out how to incorporate this 3x5 mirror, with three 10 inch square framed prints and a 2 part shadow box.

For me, the challenge is arranging all the components in an orderly, esthetically pleasing, manner. The trick is mapping this out before putting holes in someone else’s house. My solution is to make scale templates and, using a soft lead pencil, lightly draw on the walls. The primary piece is the mirror and it is hung first, and it’s positioning is driven by the position of the sofa. Now the position of the mirror drives everything else. 



Using a measuring tape and 2 foot level, I plan it out. The center of the mirror is 51 inches from the ceiling. The center of all other pieces is mapped from that.


Generally, the supplementary pieces are centered in the remaining vacant space. The width of space on the left side is 41”, and the right, 66”. The overall height of the mirror is 31½ inches, the set of 3 prints is 30 inches and the shadow box is 23½ inches. Mathematically, the shadow box is 8 inches shorter than the mirror, meaning the box will be positioned 4 inches lower than the mirror.





Now I have to decide if the 3 print set will stay within the 31½ inches of the mirror height, with a half inch gap between them or extend 4 inches above and below the mirror height, keeping with the continuity of the shadow box. (A minus 4 inches on the right side offset by a plus 4 inches on the left side.)

This is where the templates really make the difference. So much easier to reposition a few pieces of cardboard. So I try out a multiple of configurations and finally settle on the one that pleases me most.

The finished product

So you tell me – anal or analytical?

Busy Weekend (Part 1) - SHAPEFEST

SHAPEFEST is an annual event held at  S.H.A.P.E. (This being the acronym for Supreme Headquarters Allied Powers Europe), and the place where my husband works.  Twenty-eight different countries are represented here. And like every patriotic citizen, they like to show off our country and what it has to offer. This is the opportunity.

It is a weekend long event, with Saturday being the main day. Carnival rides are available for the kiddies, and for the adults, food and beverages.  Each country provides, for a nominal fee, a sampling of their traditional fare. There was Belgian waffles and Belgian beer, Spanish paella and sangria, Greek souvlaki and ouzo, American ribs and beer, French cheeses and wine, Turkish baklava, Czech sausage and beer, Canadian moose milk and maple syrup. You get my drift.

We cased the place, first. When you know the options will be overwhelming, it is important to first know what those options would be. And with twenty-one of twenty-eight countries representing, the choice would be tough.

In Ottawa, I worked with a lovely girl named Boryana, from Bulgaria and on a couple of occasions; she treated the staff to a traditional Bulgarian pastry called banitsa. I wondered if I might find some at Shapefest. I was pleasantly surprised at the Bulgarian tent to find an item which they called pastry. It was banitsa. I couldn’t wait to try it to see if it measured up. It did!!

Once I had my fill of banitsa, I settled for paella and sangria.  Perry had Hungarian goulash and beer.

It was a great way to spend a Saturday.

The Yellow Vest

I wore my yellow vest today. What does that mean, you ask? I will tell you.

Belgium has strict rules about safety equipment requirements for a vehicles registered on their roads. In addition to the usual mechanical criteria, each vehicle has to be equiped with a fire extinguisher (fastened within reach of the driver), a First Aid kit, a hazard triangle and a yellow reflective vest. The vest is to be worn ANYTIME you exit your vehicle on the highway. You will see motorists with the vest on if they have to pull over on the Autoroute because of car troubles.

Well, this morning, I was returning home from Mons, where I had just dropped Perry off at work. Traffic was not too heavy in this direction but was not moving as fast as usual. I was following a motorcycle, who was following a patient transfer ambulance. The ambulance driver must not have been paying attention, when suddenly he had to break hard for the traffic slowed in front of him. Unfortunately, for the motorcyclist, he has not allowed enough distance between himself and the ambulance, and he plowed into it. It all unfolded in slow motion for me. I saw the ambulance brake suddenly, causing the rear of his vehicle to rise, I saw the biker brake hard, causing his tires to smoke, I saw the bike twist sideways as the brakes locked up and I saw the driver impact the left rear door of the ambulance, causing the safety glass to shatter and surely fracture the driver's right shoulder. Then he and his bike were on the road in front of me. I was stopped by this time and I hastily switched on my hazard light, hoping those coming behind me would get stopped in time. The ambulance driver and 2 other drivers from the cars in front of him, as well as myself quickly converged on the injured biker. Someone quickly called the emergency number. All there was to do now was wait and try and comfort the injured man until help arrived. As luck would have it, a car pulled over to the median on the other side. Two doctors, who quickly took over the scene. I hadn't thought about my vest up to that point, but it soon became apparant, I was going to be there a while. I put it on.

Like any accident scene, there are always gawkers. And with one lane of two blocked in both directions, traffic was now crawling. But here was something I could do...direct traffic. Something powerful in that yellow vest. People responded, lanes of traffic began to move and merge in an orderly fashion. When a driver slowed to much to have a look, I pointed at him and waved him on. Trop des voyeurs!!

Once police arrived, they took over. And once I gave my account of the incident, I was able to leave.
The paramedics had the injured man in his ambulance by now. I'm sure he will be OK. The same cannot be said for his bike.

Here's my souvenir of my morning adventure.

...in Flander's Fields...

Technically, we don’t live in Flanders. Geographically, Flanders is located northwest of where we live in Hainaut province.  However, that doesn't seem to have hampered the presence of these floral reminders.

Poppies grow randomly and abundantly here, in the Belgian countryside. That was one of the first things that stuck me when we drove to our new home. Along the roadside they grow wild, providing pockets of colour in the bright green crop fields.  There is incredible history in those fields.

We have not had many opportunities as of yet, to travel, only having moved into our house two weeks ago.  Vimy Ridge, however, is a day trip and had long been a place my husband has wanted to visit. So on a beautiful day in July, we set out for Arras, France, about an hour and a half away.  As you approach the region, driving through the French countryside, the tranquility belies the battles that were waged there, almost 100 years ago. And as you look across the plain and then cast your eyes up the ridge in the distance......there it stands.  A monument to the many lives lost at that time. We had to stop by the side of the road and take it in.

Once at the memorial, there is a reverent feel about the place. There is an innate need to fall silent. The size and beauty of the monument are overwhelming. It was emotional.

The craftsmanship and detail are incredible. The names of all those lost in the Battle for Vimy Ridge are engraved there. They encircle the entire base of the Croatian limestone monument. We searched for familiar family names.

 

A short distance away, overlooked by the monument, are the actual battlefields.  Parks Canada provides the opportunity for visitors to visit restored trenches and tunnels.  We did. One can only imagine how horrific it must have been, huddling in the cold, damp tunnels for days at a time. There were miles and miles of them there. It took 6 months to plan and prepare for that battle.

And a short walk from the battle fields are are some of the Commonwealth Graves. The cemeteries are close to the battlefields. Those that died were buried by their comrades. Canadians are buried there. 

It is said that is where Canada became a Nation unto herself. It is certainly where our Canadian soldiers made a name for themselves.