Haut Hamme From the Ceiling
Addy was launching forth about The Hague. It was where Nicholas lived, and Addy had asked how he was. The nice Dutchman, he called him.
"He was very nice," he said.
"Don't tell him that," he said, "but those who live in The Hague had a reputation for being, what is it, what is it," he stuck his nose in the air, "superior."
Julian said, "But he isn't like that."
"No, no," said Addy, "he isn't like that, but they were called 'wooden pigs', or was it 'wooden hams'?"
Julian had no idea what that could possibly mean, but Addy was happy to elaborate.
It seemed that early in Holland's history, they would hang their hams from the ceilings to cure. Those in the Hague would hang a number of wooden, painted hams from their ceilings so that those who passed by would think that they were very rich. And so, the phrase, Haut Hamme.
"He might not have heard of that. He might be too young,"Addy mused. "He likes Australia, he told me that."
Julian wanted to know why and Addy informed her about Holland. He talked about the size of the city and the number of people that lived in a smallish sized country. He waxed lyrical about the glass houses that were always lit up. Apparently, flying into Amsterdam at night was quite a sight. He told of the commercialism and the water everywhere. The ability to buy marijuana, but that it wasn't legal. And the people who sat in leather chairs and picked roses from conveyor belts in huge glass houses that took 8 hours for the same rose to return, and they were cut exactly to the millimetre. Julian was impressed. This was a different place. She looked out of the BMW window from her leather seat, the top of the car was open and it was very comfortable. She looked at the magnificent views of the mountains all around and breathed in the fresh air. It was very, very beautiful and she thanked Jehovah for this magnificent creation.
"And made for us," Addy added.
He went on to talk about witnessing in Holland with his father on his bicycle. There was one farm that he went to when he was a young boy, about 7 or 8. It was winter. The man had turned his hose on the both of them. They had ridden there bicycles home, but Addy was literally freezing and was about to die. His father urged him onwards, 'push, push', he said, 'pedal, pedal'. Addy pushed and pedalled and could feel his trousers literally turning to ice as he did so. They cracked and crickled each time his knees bent. And now, he was almost 70, and every time he went back to Holland to visit his aging mamma, he would take the turn off to that farm and look and remember.
They were delivering invites to the memorial and Addy wanted to know if Julian had continued the conversation about the truth with him.
She filled him in, and also mentioned that he had said, 'what a shame we can't live forever'.
Addy was delighted.
"And you didn't jump on that?" he wanted to know.
"Give me time," Julian said.
Addy, Julian and Slavica and 7 million others believed that they could live forever. On a paradise on earth. It was a delicious, and true, hope.
Nicholas had taken a photo of the words 'rejoice' and 'persevere' from a small sign on the verandah.
It read, in full, 'Rejoice in the hope. Persevere in prayer.' and it was taken from Romans 12:12
That was the hope. Life on earth forever.
Magnificent.
"He was very nice," he said.
"Don't tell him that," he said, "but those who live in The Hague had a reputation for being, what is it, what is it," he stuck his nose in the air, "superior."
Julian said, "But he isn't like that."
"No, no," said Addy, "he isn't like that, but they were called 'wooden pigs', or was it 'wooden hams'?"
Julian had no idea what that could possibly mean, but Addy was happy to elaborate.
It seemed that early in Holland's history, they would hang their hams from the ceilings to cure. Those in the Hague would hang a number of wooden, painted hams from their ceilings so that those who passed by would think that they were very rich. And so, the phrase, Haut Hamme.
"He might not have heard of that. He might be too young,"Addy mused. "He likes Australia, he told me that."
Julian wanted to know why and Addy informed her about Holland. He talked about the size of the city and the number of people that lived in a smallish sized country. He waxed lyrical about the glass houses that were always lit up. Apparently, flying into Amsterdam at night was quite a sight. He told of the commercialism and the water everywhere. The ability to buy marijuana, but that it wasn't legal. And the people who sat in leather chairs and picked roses from conveyor belts in huge glass houses that took 8 hours for the same rose to return, and they were cut exactly to the millimetre. Julian was impressed. This was a different place. She looked out of the BMW window from her leather seat, the top of the car was open and it was very comfortable. She looked at the magnificent views of the mountains all around and breathed in the fresh air. It was very, very beautiful and she thanked Jehovah for this magnificent creation.
"And made for us," Addy added.
He went on to talk about witnessing in Holland with his father on his bicycle. There was one farm that he went to when he was a young boy, about 7 or 8. It was winter. The man had turned his hose on the both of them. They had ridden there bicycles home, but Addy was literally freezing and was about to die. His father urged him onwards, 'push, push', he said, 'pedal, pedal'. Addy pushed and pedalled and could feel his trousers literally turning to ice as he did so. They cracked and crickled each time his knees bent. And now, he was almost 70, and every time he went back to Holland to visit his aging mamma, he would take the turn off to that farm and look and remember.
They were delivering invites to the memorial and Addy wanted to know if Julian had continued the conversation about the truth with him.
She filled him in, and also mentioned that he had said, 'what a shame we can't live forever'.
Addy was delighted.
"And you didn't jump on that?" he wanted to know.
"Give me time," Julian said.
Addy, Julian and Slavica and 7 million others believed that they could live forever. On a paradise on earth. It was a delicious, and true, hope.
Nicholas had taken a photo of the words 'rejoice' and 'persevere' from a small sign on the verandah.
It read, in full, 'Rejoice in the hope. Persevere in prayer.' and it was taken from Romans 12:12
That was the hope. Life on earth forever.
Magnificent.
posted by Julian Fairfax Mayhem at 1:15 PM
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