a down day

Okay, I have to come out and say it, and it's not as a judgement or anything, just a statement of fact. If anything it's more a testament to my weak powers of adaptation, but Holland is not the most friendly country. In fact, I'll take Abbot Kinney road in Venice, Ca. any day over ordering questionable fried fish in windy, unhospitable Zeeland, which is where we went today. We spent a lot of time in the car today, driving from Utrecht to Rotterdam and then to Zeeland which is beautiful, and also amazing because of the wind and kite surfing opportunities. It was rainy and windy, so beach time was sort of out, and we could have paid 100 USD to get in to some place that looks like Monterey Bay Aquarium but is probably nowhere near it, so we just kind of ended up doing the American thing, driving.

Maybe that's why I'm so depressed.

I don't know, it just hit me today, literally over the head. I was unloading the dishwasher and putting things away in the extremely cluttered house we are calling home for two and a half more weeks, and I straightened too soon, banging my head healthily against the open cabinet door. I immediately started crying without hope of stopping any time soon. It was hard to describe, and if the house swap cameras had been rolling it would have been GOLD, but I just missed my house, my familiar things, my cat to hold after banging my head. It was an odd feeling, and everyone acted like I was crazy, except now, because Emma has confessed a similar kind of homesickness. For both of us, I prescribed watching videos I took on my cell phone of our house and animals last Christmas Eve after a little champagne, which is also something I miss, as long as I'm being honest.(not Christmas Eve, but champagne). We also watched some bad Dutch television, which helped a little too.

I also think that I am some kind of autistic when it comes to smells, to change the subject. Like, for reals, I can't stand the smells of some of the things around here. For instance, the tiny bathroom, which I like to call the quarter bath, because it isn't a half bath, it's something...else. It reeks. I have to credit my best friend Samantha with unwittingly saving the day on this one, by giving me a green datura candle just prior to our coming here. I had the foresight to put it in my luggage and it's been burning away in the miniscule sink of the quarter bath, dispelling the demon scents that are lingering there. It's weird, everything just kind of smells like...well....mouth, if I can say it, and it takes a lot to get over it. I'm tackling it though, really, and I do think it would be different if we were staying in hotels where they would be working round the clock to get rid of the mouth smell, but maybe not. Tomorrow we ride bikes, and I'm sure it will be great.