April 17: Back in the Netherlands from Belgium, we traveled to the UNESCO site of Kinderdijk, a landscape of marshes, canals and 18th century windmills. By boat, we glided to a windmill museum where the miller demonstrated how to pivot the sails to catch the wind, how to unfurl the sails’ canvas and — thanks to the miller’s scuffed and muddy wooden shoes — how to protect one’s feet against a heavy chain dropped from an unreasonable height!
Bonus: The cruise wine steward — whom we had gotten to know extremely well — told us that Kinderdijk was very special to her. Struggling through her first cruise, she said she was drowning in her mistakes and feeling completely incapable and worthless. “Then I took an excursion to Kinderdijk,” she told us. Did the windmills cheer you up? Well, yes. “But the amazing thing was the guests who were on the excursion. They greeted me with such enthusiasm. They thanked me. They even applauded when I boarded the bus!”
The wine steward paused in her story, then she added, “I felt special. I felt appreciated. And most of all I felt like I had a purpose — to make their trip special. The windmills will forever mean to me that I matter.”
April 18: More tulips, perhaps? On the morning of our last day in the Netherlands, Kathy and I, along with thousands of others, wandered the magnificent landscape of Keukenhof Gardens. In straight, curved or geometric beds — set jewel-like in perfect lawns — the gardens staggered us with rich colors, flamboyant varieties, creative arrangements, and breathtaking vistas. What a morning.
Bonus: In the afternoon, back in Amsterdam, we took a leisurely boat ride along the Singel canal, where we passed some of our favorite places from a week earlier. We also heard the quip about the composition of Amsterdam’s canals: 3 feet of mud, 3 feet of water and 3 feet of bicycles in between.
April 19: On the flight home today, I read a fascinating article about a project, begun in 1995, to build a medieval castle using only medieval tools, medieval technologies, and plenty of trial and error. Remember the near-miraculous rebuilding of the Cathedral of Notre Dame? Well, the experts of Guédelon supplied plenty of know-how to help rebuild the Forest, that immense timber framework supporting the cathedral’s roof. And, thanks to the expert ironworkers at the castle, they supplied 60 custom-fitted medieval axes too.
April 20: I am home, where I enjoyed several naps — and a fun dinner with my family recounting my adventures!
April 21: I really like the Netflix show Bridgerton. I like William Shakespeare too, but sometimes I just like Bridgerton more: especially Lady Agatha Danbury, she of the jewel-tone gowns, saucy headwear and honeyed voice. So imagine my delight when the Folger Shakespeare Library announced that British actor Adjoa Andoh (a.k.a. Lady Danbury) would offer programs for the public as part of her week-long residency here in Washington, D.C.
Tonight I attended a free screening of the United Kingdom’s first all-women-of-color production of Richard II, which in 2019 Andoh conceived, co-directed and performed. Steeped as I’ve been in medieval history, I savored the story. I also appreciated the production’s casting choices: how quickly race and gender dissolved into the play’s extraordinary language and acting. And, oh yes, I very much enjoyed watching Andoh embody Richard’s impulsiveness, irresponsibility and sorrow. No Regency marriages, but still lots of intrigue.
Bonus: In her opening remarks, Andoh described Richard II as a love letter to England. I had forgotten that Richard II is the source of the lovely speech that includes these famous lines: “This royal throne of kings, this scepter’d isle . . . /This happy breed of men, this little world,/This precious stone set in the silver sea,/ . . . This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England . . .”
April 23: Ok, one more travel story. On our last day in Amsterdam, hours before our cruise was to begin, Kathy and I enjoyed lunch in a charming Jordaan cafe with beer in our goblets and larceny in our . . . conversation. Yes, we knew people who might have smuggled a beer glass or two out of a pub. Yes, we enjoyed our beer very much and admired its serving glass. Yes, we asked the waiter if we could buy them (unwashed). No luck. I mournfully watched the waiter clear the table and away we went.
Well, five days later we wandered into a shop in Antwerp. I was determined to purchase a beer glass, any beer glass. Then Kathy pointed to exactly the glass we had coveted back in Amsterdam. We each bought one. Yay! But I wonder if the glass will allow me to drink a noncompliant beer in it?
Readers, to receive notifications by email each time I make a post, just scroll all the way down this page (next to the “word cloud”), look to the left and click on the black button that says “Join Me!” And if you think a friend might enjoy these, please share the Delight!
If you’d like to browse my past delights, please consult the “word cloud” featured at the very bottom of this post. Find a theme or two that interests you and sift through the sands. Or learn a bit more about my Blog by visiting my Welcome page. You’ll also see links to four essays that were published in print magazines. I’m glad you’re here!
Fashioned For Joy 