Going Dutch

I am not dutch. It wasn't until I married into a dutch family that I learned how serious they are when they say If you're not dutch, you're not much. (I guess my dear husband was either a rebel or very brave, because he married me anyway.)

On Wednesday, I discovered that my many years of marriage have shown me just a tip of the "Van/De" iceberg. My sister took our mother and me to Pella, Iowa, where we spent a few hours immersed in dutch culture.


We had lunch in a tea room. We shopped Franklin Street to music provided by the glockenspiel that performs only four times each day.


We bought Pella (made) meat sticks at the local meat market. We visited the bakery and bought at least one of almost everything.


My sister is a great tour guide. Thanks, Beth.

The Lord taketh pleasure in them that fear Him, in those that hope in His mercy. Psalm 147:11