Feisty

It's been a month of flu for all of us.

As I write, Son#2 is on Virus#2 (or #3 or #4, not sure anymore), and a 39 degree fever.

No school for him today.

I'm still snot-snotting through my own phletora of flu bugs.

I've taken steps to enrol Son#1 in a Rudolf Steiner school where he'll get the opportunity to mature a lot more before the Dutch school system decides his future.

We need the cooperation of his current school, and I don't like that part of relinquishing influence and control.

Let's just cross fingers and see how it goes.

Last night, the husband and I went to Son#3's musical which was held in the little Protestant church on our street.

A boy sitting next to him said something to make Son#3 cry a bit during the show.

During last week's parent-teacher meeting, I heard that Son#3 is getting bullied a bit.

One of the bullies was the boy sitting next to him.

For all his cleverness, kindness and humour, Son#3 is a very fragile soul.

Luckily we're back to summer time.

Outside my study window, the pear tree is just about to burst into bloom.

Everything grows and renews itself.

Even the munched-down box hedges that were attacked by the horrid European box tree moth plague in the summer.

We've organized a home exchange with someone in the South of France for the last week in April. 

It will be our first break since the summer last year.

Just 4 weeks and we're off.

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