Continuing with the theme

Everything ends.

Everything.

And so it happened that the Volvo ended on us Friday afternoon.

We managed to slug-slug about 200 meters before the car died and gave up completely, in a dangerous bend in the road, in front a driveway, of which the owner started shouting at me that I was an a-social person and parker-of-cars.

Well, I couldn't very well fly away, now could I?

He came to apologize after he understood that we were stranded, but that just made me cry for some PMS-like reason.

Eventually, the road assistance service came to help, soldering wires so we could just get to the damn garage.

When I eventually managed to talk to the husband, I had already made an appointment for a test-drive of a non-husband-approved car, and that caused another measure of conflict.
And getting the car fixed - again - just seems like a bloody bad investment to me.

Long ago, I wrote about Self-governance being an essential part of Utopia.

Sigh.

But the very worst of all:  My mother went back to South Africa yesterday. 
I left the airport with a lump the size of a caravan in my throat.
It feels completely unnatural that she's not here anymore.
Sadness.

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C'est Le Weekend: Say Hello, Wave Goodbye

In my youth, I was a huge fan of Marc Almond's.

(That's the title of one of his songs in the blog title).

In the Netherlands, we have a TV-show (inevitably cheesy and tear-worthy) called 'Hello Goodbye', presented by a very sympathetic man, accosting people at the airport either waiting for someone or seeing them off.

'Hello' and 'Goodbye' are the first words one learns when studying a foreign language.

It lies at the basis of all human communication.

But it's also true of our existence in general.

My life seems to be a continuous conveyer belt of Hellos and Goodbyes.

My mother is leaving this weekend.

On Sunday night, she's flying back to South Africa.  

We did wonderful things while she was here, but not nearly enough.

But what makes a goodbye to an exquisitely beloved parent so hard, is knowing that there might not be a next time.  

I found that out the last time when my dad was here.

We (thankfully) didn't know then what was going to happen.

Last night, we ate Kashmiri Lamb and Prawns at our favourite Indian restaurant in Breda.

We drove around the city to the moated castle, on to our old house, the new station.

And Tuesday we were back at Kasteel de Haar for a guided tour in the castle and we got lost in the maze in the gardens.

This weekend will see us packing and shipping stuff to South Africa.

Hopefully the weather will cooperate tomorrow so we can do something nice like go to the beach, all 6 of us.

And then Sunday will arrive.

Deep sigh.

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Well

*Note to self:*  

Inspiration for work is utterly missing and I cannot wait until the academic year is done, but I will HAVE TO do my work.

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Oh Sunday morning

The boys were up just before six, then traipsed down the garden path to the guest apartment where my poor mother lay sleeping, innocently unaware of the barbarians at her door.
Son#2's booming voice woke up the neighbours I'm sure.

My mother and I watched a documentary on food (mass) production last night, and a Mike Leigh film, Another Year.
I think I am Mike Leigh's biggest fan.

 
But today, we went to Kasteel de Haar, near Utrecht.
It was blooming gorgeous.
The weather was great, we took a picnic with and played football under the tall trees.
Son#1 threw repeated tantrums and was promptly ordered to sit it out on the blanket.
Afterwards, we strolled around the castle and back to the car.
I can feel that soccer-session in my calves, shamefully so.  
But it was fun.
We didn't go into the castle with the 3 boys there - more stress for me I almost cannot imagine today, but my mother and I might sneak off to Kasteel de Haar again on Tuesday...  sans enfants.

C'est Le Weekend: Husbandless, but not Childless

The husband has left for his weekend away with ex-colleagues.
We cleverly pinched his car, and I'm planning to take my mother to some gorgeous castle somewhere this weekend.
The skies are dark though.

I started studying again this morning, issues relating to sentencing, and societal reactions to crime.
It sounds as though I get it, doesn't it?
The Art of Bullshit never fails, harhar.

Son#1 left for school on foot, after not having studied for a geography test and getting the how-manieth flat tyre on his bike.
I've come to realize that I cannot mitigate the effects of his behaviour (as I have been doing for years), because in doing so, I ain't doing him no favour.
He has to learn to feel the effects of not following rules, and he has to learn to take responsibility for his actions, not pushing it off on someone else.

Son#2, a.k.a. Binary Boy, who sees the world in exactitudes, zeroes and ones only, will learn to be flexible in time, I hope.
But he listens remarkably well actually, asks permission for everything, whereas Son#1 does not.

But it's the age-old conundrum of parenting:  Learning to simply love and accept your child for the unique and separate (ouch!) creature that he/she is.
That's the tough-part.

Now Son#3 and I are watching Peppa Pig, and I'm about to drink another coffee.

No breakfast for me this morning - the husband and I ate far too much Sushi last night.
Oi vey.
Have a happy weekend!


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Decisions, decisions

Things #1 and #2 are off school today.

And will be off on Monday too.

Son#3, who either has a mild stomach bug or is teething like crazy, is most definitely going to be dropped off at daycare while the boys, my mother and I are going somewhere where it's fun.

Fun is good.

Where, we don't know yet, but I'm sure it will come to us.

The husband and I have a date this evening (mainly because there is no soccer on TV tonight), and that ought to be nice.

I'm counting on him footing the bill, as I'm quite blooming broke.

This weekend, he has a reunion with people he worked with in South Africa more than a decade ago, and I will be abusing my mother's kindness by asking her to help me clean and clear all the crap standing around the storage room, next to my studio.

I expect to encounter spiders.

Then, if I can finagle the husband's vehicle out from under him, then we can take the kids to Middelheim for a picnic on Sunday.

If the weather is lovely.

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We all start at the beginning

Yup.

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And we start another round

Barely had I finished my last exam for this semester (in which they seemed to test whether I have a photographic memory and not insight and comprehension of crime taxonomy), before I enrolled for another 3 courses, exams due November.

I would like to say that I'm on a roll, but I have to be honest and say that I am most certainly not.

But I do seem to be determined, and that counts for a lot, doesn't it?

Our week is quiet.

Son#3 threw his first fully-fledged tantrum after I dared to unbuckle his safety belt in the car.

Then I said NO when I he wanted to pick up a mangy feather off the street and that tipped the scales into Satan Mode.

Who would have thought that he was such a strong-willed little blighter?

Sadly, here we seem to go again.

The husband's job is still uncertain.

I am slowly but surely learning how to deal with the uncertainties in life.

It never was one of my strong points.

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Duh

Another week starts.
My mother will be gone in less than 2 weeks.

Tomorrow, my final exam before the summer holidays awaits, and to be very honest, I'm not that prepared. 
My get up and go has got up and went, as they say.
We're off to Ikea this morning for cheapo breakfasts but mostly for studying in their restaurant, which I do remarkably well there.

The boys have been carted off to school, after we spent yesterday in the sun at the rugby club's barbeque, all our faces tinged with tans.

Mostly, I miss my dad.
Grief is a funny thing.


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Ho ho ho

I'm in a bit of a funk: restless and cranky.
No amount of good kid behaviour was sufficient,  and if it weren't for my mother's presence, there would have been casualties.
Sigh.
Sometimes I just suck and there is no PMS  to blame.

In South Africa, a childhood friend and her family were attacked and shot at during dinner by 5 (!!) armed men. 
Her husband's quick reaction saved them, having shot and killed the ringleader in front of their kids.
(In South Africa, most people carry a gun for protection).
Can you imagine their trauma??
This poor family has already dealt with enough awfulness - her father committed suicide, they lost a son and now this, amongst other things.
Some people just seem to draw the short straw.

And reading what I just wrote makes me quite ashamed.
Our straw is long.
Loooooooong.

Ladies who Lunch

I met up with 2 colleagues today for lunch in 's-Hertogenbosch.
One is now a pensioner and hates it, the other with marital problems, kid problems and a burnout.

The rain kept us wide awake during the night, with lightning blitzes all around.
It felt so good to see the husband and boys again after the weekend away.
I was kissed often.

Tomorrow, work and studying.
Next week Wednesday I can start slacking up a bit.
First though, necessary sleep.


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Ciao Italia

We're heading home again.

Bye-for-now Al Donizetti, Bergamo and gorgeous bodies of water.

Sayonara train travel and scorching sun, floral-infused air.

Sigh.

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Slow boat to Bellagio

Aaaaaaah, Como.

GO!

You won't regret it.

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Bergamo

Bergamo is divine.

We arrived at lunch, struggled to find our cheap hotel and then headed to the Alta Citta.
Goooorgeous.
My mother and I ate our fill with shublime wine (hic), then slowly threaded our way back down the hill again.
We ought to be proud: no cable car for us - hard, uphill marching got us there.
But downhill nearly killed me and my calves.
Oh if we lived here I would be ever so slim.
But, we stopped at a supermarket and picked up €50 and that feels fantastic.
Tomorrow, Como and the ferry across the lake.
Life is good.

Bruxelles here we come

Night of no sleep, but never mind.

One thing at a time.

 

 

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Huuummmmm...

I did it.

I was literally shaking - even my feet were found to be trembling, but I did it.

My exam went well.

 

 

Well chuffed I am.

 

Tomorrow an all-day-and-evening conference in Brussels, and then early on Friday morning, my mother and I are off to Bergamo, in Italy.

I cannot wait.

 

One more exam on the 17th and then we start all over again with a new set of subjects.

First the kids are being sent off to bed.

I'm having another glass of wine, contemplating whether I'll wash my hair or not.

And then I might start packing for Italy.

Postponing is my middle name.

 

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Oof!

Exam day.
Didn't sleep much with all that crime crap flitting through my dreams.

Oh sweet Lawdy Lawd!

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Vomit & Gratitude

My week is busy beyond belief.

Work today, exams tomorrow.

Brussels for work on Thursday, and then to Italy for the weekend on Friday.

In the spaces in between, I have to start studying for my second exam on the 17th.

Son#2 has a party which will need a gift.

The poor blighter has a blue, swollen face from Son#1 who pushed him into the table.

Sigh. 

Thank goodness the rugby season is finished, with only 1 barbecue still waiting.

We are winding down, albeit on a frenzied exam-ed crescendo.

But, and this brings me to the gratitude-part, 

Son#3 is just dandy.

I have never heard of, nor experienced such a sweet creature.

And I'm grateful.

 Bless.

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Loser

When you lose

don't lose the lesson

- The Dalai Lama

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