Bed Linnen

All morning I had been in doubt about what to do. After waiting an entire morning for at least one channel to show 'Snooker: China Open' only to see Robertson lose :-(, I decided it was time for me to head outdoors. As I had no business in the city centre and no immediate grocery shopping to do, I prepared for a trip to IKEA, where else?

Where I bought the long anticipated, much discussed new bedlinnen of which you see a sample in the lefthand corner. If this wouldn't have made my day, three cups of free coffee, having a chat with some Russian tourists about what streetcar line to take to the inner city and new stationary would have.

Had I not come home to the understandable yet unanticipated cold shoulder of a house mate, it would have been the perfect last day of March.

The Cat Returns (aka Rant VIII)

The cat was lost. Or so I was told. As this did not spark in me inconsolable grief, in fact as this did spark in me only pure rage for everyone who has only time to come to me with troubles and problems almost accusing me to be the cause or expecting an immediate remedy of/for them. The unspoken accusation that I cared nothing for those animals that I call my children, only fuelled my anger (as you can imagine).

In the meanwhile, the cat has returned (as I assumed, where could she rather be, than home?) and if it wasn't for my unforgiving charachter we might forget all about the episode.

The Return of bedside treasures

The title pretty much sums it up really, but I thought I might announce my revenge now I'm at it. The guilty one may check the living room for treasure maps and prepare to hunt and explore.

My future garden (see pic)°

It was a nervous and early friday and saturday or at least a lot more nervous and early than I've been used to the last 10 months, but let's not get into too much detail. The great garden clear-up has commenced and I believe we might be well halfway with the pruning, chopping, sawing and mowing.

In between scratches of dried off branches, stepping into planks with rusty nails, and getting a rosethorn splinter in my left thumb I also heard my job interview was no succes (not the succes I imagined at any rate). Objectively: not the best start for a weekend, but to see my (MY) garden transformed from ugly plastic littered, unpenetrable jungle to patches of shade and sunshine, new delights in every corner,... I daresay there have been worse ends -of-the-day.

° just kidding

International Women's Day

Happy Women's Day! Were I a more engaged and/or political writer today might have been a time to man the barricades and cry for worldwide equal rights. Or shout for action against domestic violence, clitoridectomy, arranged/forced marriages and what not. But I am lazy and suffer none of the above. I wish merely that all my ladyfriends may be happy healthy and well.

Be careful what you wish for...

For very nearly a year, I've wanted you to feel like this. And then when you did, it broke my heart.*


* because it wasn't me

Writing Letters

Forever I have had pen friends, very few have lasted for more than years and even fewer the once I'm still writing. And only one friend have I ever stopped writing to resume sending letters two years later and actually getting a reply.

The joy, as you may imagine is hard to fathom. But even more than finding a message only for me in the postbox I enjoy the act of writing. And I will happily indulge.

Phoneless no more

You may have been notified on Twitter, read it on the Facebook page of a friend/ house mate, guessed it or received a text message from yours truly; if none of the above apply you know now: I have a working cell phone once more.

A long anticipated event, what I did not anticipate was how I managed to live nearly three months without, hardly ever to miss it, but the very minute connection with the network was acknowledged I started to wonder why nobody was calling me. Funny how the mind works.

Sitting on Babies

Finally another blogpost that I haven't stolen. Though I fear it will not be of interest to my younger and/ or male readers.

Babysitting. As a teenager this mainly meant getting paid to stay up late to sit on my aunt's couch, reading her weekly magazines and send my younger cousins to bed around 10pm. Money that, though I may have had the cheapest hobby of all my classmates, I badly needed to build my own library.

Ten years later, also known as the present. Babysitting is still very much a case of couchlounging, drinking, eating and watching television. The akward part for me is when people still want to pay me for my troubles.