Why I microwave my beer

The US Army believes--and rightly so--that no American should be without a honkin' big refrigerator. So to make up for our little freezerless Belgian, the Army loans us a US model (a big shoutout to all you taxpayers). The only problem is that it has only one temperature control for both the refrigerator and freezer; so to keep our ice from melting, we have to keep the refrigerator way too cold for our Belgian beer. Which is why I microwave it for a few seconds, to boost it to proper serving temperature.

Bike Ride

Sorry to bombard you with postings in one day, but what the heck--most of you aren't reading anyways.

We're having a gorgeous sunny day today--the first nice weekend day in several weeks--so Rita and I rode our bikes to Beloeil, the site of the famous Château de Beloeil (well, it's famous around here). Along the way we saw dozens of other bike riders: families, gangs of teenaged girls, other couples, solo serious riders, small groups of serious riders, old guys going to the store, young guys going...somewhere, and a serious young woman rider (not as common as you'd think).

We stopped for refreshments in Beloeil. I mistakenly ordered an 11% beer. The barman pointed out that it would give me strength to pedal. While sitting in the cafe, we saw, not one, but two loads of hay come by. On the way there and back we saw onions being harvested. Did I mention that there's a lot of agriculture around here? We also saw a young couple on a Vespa. It was pale turquoise. And the girl was cute. It looked so Euro.

Then we wobbled our way home.

Things we saw today

Two culturally interesting things to note:

- We had coffee this morning at our favorite cafe in Saint-Ghislain, the Concordia, which finally reopened this week after its long summer vacation (it seemed long to us, at least). While we were there the local butcher (from Tertre, the next town over from us and in between us and Saint-Ghislain) arrived to deliver the meats. At the same time the fresh produce delivery arrived. Both deliveries were carried through the restaurant back to the kitchen.

- At lunch I was perusing the local newspaper, the Passe-Partout, and noticed a full page ad on the back advertising - get this - an All Saints Day sale on marble tombstones and slabs. The company promises incredible prices! Above pictures of two models.

I guess it's not terribly unusual to see restaurant deliveries in the US. We did find it not a little culturally interesting, though, to see the tombstone ad. Not something you'd run across too often in the States - but then Europe takes All Saints Day far more seriously than we do. It's even a legal holiday here.

How to learn a foreign language

No matter how much time you spend in a classroom, they can't teach you everything you need to know. You have to get out there and do stuff. Combined, Rita and I have spent close to a century studying French, yet every time we have a different situation we learn something. Today we went to the jeweler in Ath (cute town!) to have Rita's engagement ring repaired. She caught it on something boarding a train in Germany, and it's really messed up. So we learned that the setting is l'ensemble and a prong is une griffe, which also means a claw. At this rate I should be pretty fluent in a couple of decades.

A Medal!

At last, Belgium has an Olympic medal, a silver in the women's 4x100 relay. Thanks to an outbreak of fumbling by the favorites (the same thing that happened with the men), the Belgian women managed to snag the silver in this race. We're all excited as can be over here. It's a great Belgian team: a Walloon (Olivia Borlée), a Flem (Kim Gevaert), an African (Elodie Ouedraogo), and a can't-tell-which-she-is (Hanna Mariën).

Oops!

No, it's not an illusion, and no, it's not because of that extra margarita you had. The steeple in Pommeroeul really is crooked. Or tilted. Or bent. Not straight, at any rate. I have no idea what the story is behind this. And it's the steeple. All these little villages have only one church each, and each one's steeple is distinct, making it surprisingly easy in this flat country to navigate on a bicycle, especially if you're trying to get to Pommeroeul.

Straight, plumb, and level, guys, straight, plumb, and level.

Girls are different

Did you happen to catch the end of the heptathlon at the Olympics Saturday? At the end of the last heat of the last event, the 800 meters, all the competitors from all the previous heats poured out onto the track and milled around kissing and congratulating the winner. Rita said it looked like they all really liked her; maybe if she hadn't won the event she would have been voted Miss Congeniality. But they didn't stop there. They were kissing and congratulating and hugging everybody. Quite a difference from all the chest-thumping and preening that goes on after the men's 100 meters.

Elsewhere in Olympic news, in case you didn't notice, the Belgian men's soccer team beat the Italians, who couldn't seem to score unless the Belgians gave it to them. The poor, delicate Italian boys seemed to get booboos easily, always conveniently near the goal.