Sisterchicks in Wooden Shoes! Read Online Free PDF Page A

sleet, snow, and hail. They remain steady in the summers, which sometimes can turn sweltering. And they keep on standing, brave and true. I feel grateful for the determined person who planted them so long ago.”
    We entered an area that looked like a picturesque European village from a travel brochure. The close-together shops looked clean and fresh, in spite of the obvious age of some of the taller buildings at the end of the block. The line of shops on the right side of the street reminded me of an area not far from where I live—an area that had gone through a successful urban renewal when some of the older, more charming buildings were renovated. We drove slowly down the street, looking for a place to park. As we passed a flower shop, I noticed the store next door had a large sign in the shape of a wooden shoe hanging out front.
    “Does that store really sell wooden shoes?”
    Noelle looked over her shoulder. “Yes. We can go in, and you can try on a pair, if you want.”
    I laughed. “They really sell wooden shoes here?”
    “Of course. Many people still wear them on the farms. The fishermen wear them.”
    “Why?”
    Noelle smiled. “They keep your feet warm and dry, and they don’t slip.”
    “Do you have a pair of wooden shoes?”
    “Yes, of course. For the garden. When the girls were little,they both had pink ones they wore when they went out to the family farm to see the horses.”
    “I thought wooden shoes were part of the Old World Dutch tradition. I never would have guessed they still make and sell them. Except maybe for tourists.”
    “I’m sure they sell lots of them to tourists in the larger cities. But if you want an authentic pair for a lower price, you should buy them here.”
    “I don’t know where I would wear them.”
    “In the garden, of course. Especially in the spring when it’s wet and rainy. They’re comfortable. Really.”
    When I still didn’t look convinced, Noelle said, “You will try on a pair before you leave. I just decided that for you. Oh, wonderful! That car is pulling out. This is a good spot.”
    Noelle pulled into a very tight parking place in front of what looked like a post office.
    “I can’t believe how compact everything is. I never could have managed to park in a spot this small. You amaze me, Noelle.”
    She turned off the engine and reached over to put her hand on my shoulder. “Summer, I think quite a few things about this country will amaze you. I know I’ve already said it, but I’m really glad you’ve come.”
    “I’m glad too. I do have one request, though.”
    “What’s that?”
    “Warn me ahead of time about any of the things you think might surprise me so I won’t say or do anything to embarrass you.”
    “Don’t worry about embarrassing me. Trust me, I have managed to embarrass myself plenty over the years. You are my guest. It is my honor to have you here. So, are you ready for a coffee now?”
    “Sure. Just tell me how to ask for coffee in Dutch.”
    “That’s easy.
Koffie.
”
    “Now how do I order a grande, two-percent, half-pump, sugar-free vanilla latte with no whip?”
    Noelle stopped in front of the car and stared at me a moment, apparently trying to see the joke in what I had just said. “What was all that?”
    “That’s my usual,” I explained.
    “Your usual what?”
    “Coffee.”
    She still looked confused. “Why would you have to go through a whole speech like that just to get a coffee? What did you say again?”
    I repeated my standing order, and this time she laughed.
    “What is the two percent?”
    “That’s the milk. You can order nonfat, two percent, whole, or half-and-half. If you want your latte with half-and-half, you order a breve. Or you can order soy milk. You can have whipped cream on top or add your own chocolate powder, cinnamon, or liquid sugar.”
    She looked at me as if I were making all this up.
    “It’s true. It helps if you memorize what you want before you get to the register so you can