I snapped the photo above at the Madurodam miniature park in The Hague, about two weeks ago.
It's a picture of a miniature replica of a street in Amsterdam.
Seeing the whole country, in a glimpse, gazing at the beauty of the low lands.
Three facts about Madurodam:
- Everything (even the trees) are on a scale of 1:25.
- The miniature Dutch people wear jackets in the winter and T-shirts in the summer.
- We DJed an Armin Van Buuren concert, auctioned tulips, generated windmill energy, operated wind turbines, unloaded ships at the dock, manufactured clogs, operated a roller coaster and designed the set for a production of Shakespeare. All in a few hours at Madurodam. Oh, and we ate hot dogs too.
“She was snatched back from a dream of far countries, and found herself on Main Street.”
from Main Street by Sinclair Lewis
The fair is back in town. I am struggling to get used to the cyclicity of events in a small town. The River Rescue carnival, the Apple Festival, Community Day - all too soon again. It's couldn't have been a year. I just blinked. It couldn't have been a year.
Sunday was a momentous day in the EuroAmerican household. We woke up in the morning and Trevor had the entire day planned. There were going to be beers involved, nachos grande and banana bread. There would be TV watching and beer-drinking and cheering and explaining and a much anticipated finale. It was like Christmas in February, only with a more excited Trevor and a decidedly less excited me.
It was the Super Bowl.
Luckily, I was well versed in the art of acting as if I cared about a football game (and don't even get me started about calling it football). This is probably real life situation #1901 that allows me to use valuable life skills learned from Friends. So I pulled a Chandler and Phoebe circa The One with the Rumor and just screamed stuff at the TV. In retrospect, I think I should have probably waited for Trevor to explain the rules before I pretended to understand.
I can't remember the first time I realized I like maps. But I know it was before Pinterest, before the crafting obsession and before moving halfway across the map. Maybe it was in the fifth grade, when we were studying the history of imperial expansions. Maybe that's when I looked at the maps of the Roman Empire doubling and then tripling, and I realized how many stories a map can carry.
Trevor and I collect maps from everywhere we go. It's ironic, really, because I can't read maps unless I turn the map to face my direction whereas Trevor only needs a 30 second glance to memorize the routes for an entire holiday. I don't even bother when I have him with me.
We saw this idea floating around on the internet to make a wall hanging with a map of the place you met and the place you got married. It proved tricky, unless someone maps out the internet (where we met), and I didn't want a constant reminder that we took our vows with none of my friends or family present. So we decided to make a collage of maps of places that we traveled to - six cities in three countries that we like for various (undisclosed) reasons.
We already had the frame. All we did was turn around the paper that came with the frame. Then we:
1. cut hearts out of the downtown of our maps; we chose downtowns because that's where our touristy selves romped and frolicked;
2. cut larger hearts out of construction paper to add a solid background;
3. glue the map heart onto the green hearts, thus creating double hearts;
4. tape the double hearts to the paper backdrop to keep them in place; mild measuring was done (we asked each other "How does it look to you?" "Good. How does it look to you?" "Good!" "Ok, we're good.")
5. reassemble the frame.
While we're on the topic of maps, allow me to bring a West Wing favorite moment to your attention.