Our new "woning" in Amsterdam

Our sojourn in Dordrecht ended on March 18th.  As we leave the city we enjoy the daffodils that grow between the roads.  Yellow is such a cheerful color - especially after all the grey from the long winter.

We arrive at our new apartment in Diemen, which is just inside the southern boundary of Amsterdam.  The first positive feature - we enter from street level.  No more packing cakes, cookies, casseroles, grocery bags, suitcases, etc. up 6 flights of stairs.  Oh, wait - all the stairs are INSIDE the apartment here.

This is the living room.  The sofas are leather, and very comfortable.  A small TV keeps us in touch with the outside world.  I'm not going to love the laminate floors, but you can't have everything.

There is a large dining table and china hutch across the room from the living area.  The table seats eight people as is - but there are 2 more leaves waiting for additional guests.  Lots of visitors can be seated for dinner.  Any takers?

I love the large, cheerful kitchen - plenty of working space and lots of light.  Sister Pankratz left 12 potted plants in the apartment.  They are fearing for their lives as I type this.  Tending the plants will be Elder Beckstrand's assignment!

There is a WC (Vay Say) on the main floor, and I LOVE the ladybug floor mat.  Isn't he cute? 

The down-side of having a street level apartment - all the stairs are on the inside.  This first flight goes up to the bedroom and office area.  The stairs are very narrow on the left side, making it a little uncomfortable negotiating them in the beginning.  How on earth did they get the bed up these winding stairs?

The master bedroom - a lovely queen-sized bed, and lots of room to move around.  The closet space is limited, however.  Elder B. offered to hang his suits in the spare bedroom to leave the closet space for me.  Isn't he a great guy?

This is the office.  There is only one desk, and it is smaller than either of the ones we had in Dordrecht.  We're missing our 'his and hers' desks.  I guess we'll have to learn to share.   (It's probably way past time.)

This is the spare bedroom.  The bed on the left pulls out to make a queen-sized bed.  The room is pretty crowded when both beds are in use, but it will work for a few nights for overseas guests and their children.  (hint, hint)

The second floor WC.  It is rare to find a toilet in the same room as the shower in this country.  I think it is a very good idea, especially if you have anyone in the family who's a 'reader'.

The piece de resistence - A BATHTUB!!!  Elder Beckstrand is going to be very much at home here!

Across from the bathroom there is yet another flight of stairs.  This one leads to the third floor and laundry facilities.  There are 13 stairs for each flight.  That's 26 stairs.   Will they take care of all the cookies, cakes, and other goodies I'm eating???   (I can't seem to resist sampling the things I'm making almost daily for the JoVo's.)

The floor boven.  There are two more twin beds up here plus the washer and dryer.  And right in the middle of the room....

Ta, da,da, DAHHHH!

A SEWING MACHINE!

                I have the use of this Singer sewing machine for the remainder of our mission.  Life is good.   Now, if I just had time to sew.

The final chapter of the 'apartment' story takes us back to the kitchen.  This is the infamous microwave/convection oven in which I am supposed to prepare gigantic meals for hungry young people.  It's impossible!  It takes twice as long to cook everything when it has to be baked in such tiny little amounts.  Can't someone help me?

My fearless, loving, considerate, eternal companion, who hates to see me cry, took me shopping.  Ta dah!  A brand new, shining, almost BIG oven! ( It's big for The Netherlands, anyway.)  We made the decision that if the mission wouldn't spring for a new oven, we'd pay for it ourselves.  It would have been a long two years trying to bake for the JoVo's in that tiny microwave-sized oven.  ( P.S. The mission came through.)

A shot of them side by side illustrates the David and Goliath syndrome.  I never thought I'd cheer for Goliath, but here goes - "Hooray for Goliath!"  Now I'm SURE we will be very comfortable here.