Thanksgiving then Christmas in a cave

We had such a nice Thanksgiving. When we got the invite from our good friends the Ray's way back when, I secretly jumped for joy on the inside, for fear that if I showed my excitement on the outside they would be worried about what they just invited into their house. I knew all along that Bishop had many talents, but now I can add that he can cook a mean turkey. Well, it's really not mean, it's just moist and perfect.
Back in October I decided that the girls and I would splurge a little while Mark was gone and take a day trip to the Netherlands to visit a Christmas market. This particular market is held in the caves of the Valkenburg castle ruin. It sounded unique and mysterious and we really enjoyed our day . . . well, except for the freaky decor. . . more on that later.

If you ask the girls what they liked best about the day, they will tell you the bus ride. They get to bring along a bag full of entertainment, so movies, music and books and they were set. Each time we stopped they moaned and groaned but then were oh so happy to help me spend my euro.


So the Valkenburg Christmas market description will tell you that they decorate with a charming Charles Dicken's theme. Sound charming eh? . . . not charming, more like Ebenezer Scrooges worst nightmare wrapped up in a "charming" bow?!

Here are the girls before we entered the cave, they look happy right?
This is what they both looked like while trying to avoid the scary looking characters. I think they made these "back in the day" and, well, it's time to make new ones folks.
There were some charming accents, some I say:
Another look at the outside:
The caves are open year round with tours that describe the normal contents of the caves. Here is a confessional in the underground chapel, which was really just a cave with a cross at the head and . . . the confessional of course:
This is a mural in the caves that caught my eye:
On Thanksgiving morning I received the call that my Grandmother had passed away the day before. While we were on our trip I planned to try, during the quiet moments, to make a decision on whether I should go home or not. In the end, it was not the right choice to travel home, even though every fiber of my being wanted to be there. So because I had my Grandmother on my mind all day long, I found it very interesting to see that I could buy "poffertjes" before we entered the tunnel.

These little pancakes are a Christmas tradition in my family, only we call them Aebelskivers. My Grandmother's family is the line that this tradition stems from. I spent most of my childhood Christmas Eve's at my Grandmothers house, consuming these little babies until they had to roll me home. We have now had these pancakes twice in the Netherlands and they are not called the same thing. In the video below you can hear the pronunciation.

That think in the middle, a big ol slab o' butter, that was different. I felt bad for the poor woman who could speak very little English, who made our poffertjes because upon serving them to us, I broke out in tears while trying to give her my euro. Some days I'm such a mess of a woman without my hubby to ground me.

Here is a link to my sisters blog. It contains the eulogy that she composed for the funeral. She did such a good job describing my Grandmother's essence. Thank you Danette!