Introducing my parents, Marthe and Peter. Here are some pictures sure to embarrass them. Hehehe...

Were we ever that young? Peter and Marthe before they ever knew the other existed.


This is my dad, the intellectual,
right after he chopped off his
ultra cool shoulder length hippie hair.		 This is Marthe Anneliese
Johanna Lablans
van der Veer.


I think my parents are amazing people (and I'm not just saying that so Santa knows I've been nice this year). Both were born in the Netherlands, but in their lifetime have lived in and visited some very exotic and far out places. They have seen quite a bit of Europe, as well as the majority of the United States. They actually lived in South America for a couple of years! (Talk about adventurous).
My mom posing for the camera.

My mom, due to her exposure to so many different cultures, is an incredible cook and always willing to try a new dish (among her favorites is the herring they serve on the streets of Amsterdam) (GROSS)--(although, at one point in her life, she was heard to insist that macaroni and cheese, smothered in apple sauce was gourmet). Marthe is fluent in several languages. She is also an accomplished cellist and pianist. She has an incredible knowledge of classical music, (which is attributed to her career at the Music Library of Utrecht) and if you turn on the radio, most likely she'll be able to name that tune within the first few notes. Marthe is a lover of the art world. She'll hunt down museums ("Um, that's museA," corrects the Latin student) and outdoor sculpture gardens like nobody's business. And drag the rest of the family to see them. We're thrilled. No. Really.


My dad demonstrating the Snoopy philosophy of life.

OK, so this is my dad. He used to be a hippie, now he's more like the Dilbert cartoon. Peter is a strange mixture of demanding dad and weird Gary Larson scientist guy. He has an obsession with learning. There's always something new on his desk. Sometimes it's the origins of human life, or World War II military strategy, wind trajectory of airplanes, and cryptology. Most recently, it's Ternary Logic. Whatever it is, if you're a Lablans child, he will sit you down and explain everything in a few basic calculus terms. My dad likes to analyze things like sunsets and bad movies. He converts the world into a science equation. He has a very quirky and odd sense of humor which, he will explain, was achieved upon his graduation from "Funny Class."
This is in Ireland, where my parents were
engaged. Here, Peter is engaging a cow
in a stunning rendition of Mendelssohn's
Violin Concerto, as Marthe looks on and wonders what she got herself into...

My parents traveled a la hitch hike.
But when no one stopped, insanity
set in quickly.


Marthe again, this time in beatnik garb


Now we will take a look at a love affair with black labs that started with one fat little puppy and his brother.
Introducing Daan, our sweet big black lab who was a devoted family member for more than ten years.(aka "hoepie.")

Apparently, training a dog is not easy. And one has got to have pity on a puppy who cried at night because he was all alone in a cold basement. (yeah, they felt so sorry for him, they got another puppy). My parents are just big softies when it came to the dog...


1974. My parents, a year before they married, vacationed in what Peter likes to refer to as "the chicken coop" in Texel, a Wadden Island, behind the kerosene vendor. This place was promptly ripped apart by two very unhappy dogs after they had been left alone for an hour.
Daan was a cheerful and contented puppy. Here he pauses in his doggy ways to be immortalized on film with my mom. Bribery was much appreciated, too. Speak. ("Luid!") Sjaak, Daan's brother, learns the art of barking.

OK, now if you're a dog, you are equipped with an extra two feet to get yourself around. This concept was very foreign to baby dogs, especially Sjaak and Daan. Wagon was the only acceptable mode of transportation. My parents and the dogs became quite recognizable after this outing as the people with the puppies in the beach wagon.



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