5 minute-break

Mom is finally asleep. The last four days have been hell. My dad is exhausted. He has carried her around the house, up and down the stairs, he has washed, fed, dressed her; and yesterday he drove around to get medical help simply because he didn’t know what to do anymore. The nurse is coming again tonight, thank god.
In the mean time, dad is getting a bit of time off, working in the garden, while I keep an eye on her. Throwing up, sweating, cold shivers, fainting, pain, …it hasn’t stopped. Until now; she’s asleep.
She rests, I rest.

The point

I’m sorry – I just haven’t got any inspiration whatsoever. The last few weeks have been...”full”, for lack of any better word. Then finally, two weeks ago: a wonderful long weekend in London. Finally at peace with everything, finally just happy again. It didn’t last long. I got smacked in the face again. Bad news after mom’s scan, and again we’re facing months of chemo, and maybe surgery. I’ve gone from angry, to sad, to numb, to just very very tired.
I can’t help but wondering: is this really what “life” is all about? Is this what every body faces? Battle after battle? Then what the hell is the point of it all?

Hoge Veluwe

For the long ascension weekend, P and I went to the Netherlands – more precisely to the province of Gelderland and the National Park "Hoge Veluwe".It’s the largest nature park in The Netherlands, with wildlife and visitors freely traversing its moors, vast forests, expanses of grassland, and sand drifts. We rented bikes (“When in Rome etc”), and enjoyed the perfect cycling tracks throughout the park and the nearby villages.

We also did some shopping in Arnhem, a very pleasant town, with a city centre that is completely car-free, and we visited the Arnhem Zoo – where our favourite animal was a little hopping kangaroo rat.
And of course, no trip to the Netherlands is complete without some grocery shopping at the AH (Albert Heyn) for such Dutch delicacies as stroopwafels, vla, ontbijtkoek, rookworst, ...

The Hoge Veluwe is only a two-hour drive from Brussels – so if you’re still looking for ideas for the next long weekend, I can highly recommend it!!

Always a woman

Apparently, this ad costs 7 million Euro and is for a British chain called John Lewis (never heard of it). Anyway, Belgian newspapers found it inspiring enough to mention it on their websites, and that is how I discovered this beauty. The clip shows all the phases in a woman’s life, from being born, to becoming a grandmother.
In other words, it shows the perfect picture (apart from the nano-second where we see the family having an argument).
I had a bit of a double feeling after watching it.
Yep, it’s what most women want.
Indeed, it’s what most women do.
It is about life, about giving life, actually.
It’s a dream unfolding before my eyes.
But, a little but. It’s actually the very same thing as all those perfect, photoshopped models. When you don’t have a size 6, you can get pretty frustrated by just looking at them – get my point ?

Chatelain

Don’t get me wrong. I love my neighbourhood. But - you were waiting for the “but”-part, weren’t you? So: But sometimes it’s just a bit too BCBG (Brussels’ expression for Bon Chique Bon Genre, in other words: posh).

- When spring arrives, the weekly market is not just a market anymore. It becomes an event to see and be seen. There are more stands were you can sip champagne or wine, and slurp an oyster or two, than there are actual fruit&vegetable stands. You don’t go there with your shopping basket – no, you go there with a stack of business cards, and network away.
- Even when you’re wearing your biggest sunglasses, you feel they’re rather smallish to moment you step outside.
- If your handbag doesn’t contain a tiny dog, you’re not one of the crowd either.
- And I could go on, but I guess the conversation of the two ladies sitting next to me on the terrace of the local bar, says it all.
Picture them, manicured, just the right tan, spotless hairdo, most expensive brands, not older than 25, sipping cocktails at lunch hour, and smoking away.

Chickie 1 : Oh, not possible! You’ve never been to Knokke (read: poshest seaside town of Belgium)?
Chickie 2 : Well, of course, I have, but only for business (uhm, business in Knokke? Not likely, but whatever).
Chickie 1 : Oooh, let’s go this Sunday!
Chickie 2 : Wait, then I have to call my personal tennis instructor. “Monsieur François? Can we re-schedule our lesson to Saturday? It’s because I’m going to Knokke on Sunday. Oh, you are so nice, merci beaucoup!”
Chickie 1 : Wait, I have a phone call. Ah, it’s my cleaning lady. “Oui Maria? You are ready? Okay, I’ll come and pay you. Can you wait 30 minutes? I’m still having a drink with my friend. See you in half an hour.”

This was after they had been discussing all the boys that were in love with them.
And why they were obviously French, but speaking in English the whole time, is simply beyond me.

Talking is overrated

I told my story to friend1, to friend2, to friend3 and to friend4. Oh, and to a colleague at work as well. I told it to Mr Shrink. And I’ve told the man himself exactly how I feel and what I think about it.
And were did it get me? Right, nowhere. There hasn’t been a so-called “break through”, forget the “aha-moment”. All that it got me, was a general feeling of “what’s the use? How many more obstacles will there be on my way to fulfil my dream?”. To put it shortly: the feeling of wanting to give up.

Friend1 said “This doesn’t look good. What about what you want?”.
Friend2 said “Oh God”.
Friend3 said “Keep an open mind”.
Friend4 said “But...That’s not what you want, right?”
Colleague said “That means you never really stood up for what you want.”
Mr Shrink said “Seems some peace & quiet are not on the agenda of your life yet.”

What can I say? Really, nothing anymore. I’m tired of talking.

Spring's new things

1. The new hang-out
The bar of the month (don’t go looking in previous months) is “Café Modèle”. For me, this is Brussels at its best. On one side: the terminally trendy Dansaert street. On the other side: the Brussels’ Canal zone, a run-down part of town that’s been trying to become trendy for the last 10 years (but where you still don’t want to take a walk on your own after dark). Café Modèle has large windows, from behind which you can look at this interesting encounter of different worlds. Arty-farty Flemish meets Boho-Bruxellois meets North-African no-nonsense. It also has free wifi, newspapers in different languages, a perfectly bilingual staff, and, last but not least: great food & drinks. Fresh salads, juices, great bagels & buns, home-made cakes, etc. , all very reasonably priced. So for once, forget the famous “Walvis” across the street, but try Café Modèle instead.

2. The new perfume
“Escale à Pondichery” from Dior. A cologne made from raw materials such as jasmine, black tea and sandalwood – apparently meaning to evoke the fragrant history of Pondicherry, an ex-French colony in India. Whatever. It smells very nice, sparkling and fresh – exactly what I needed.

3. The new cooking
Aha – wonder what this is all about, hm? Well, I’ve learned to make sushi today!! Together with M, a student who became a friend, I went shopping in the Asian supermarket. Afterwards, she showed me all the tips&tricks, and voilà : sushi-chef N is born!

4. The new book
Is already finished in the mean time. It was the latest from Nick Hornby, and a present from P, “Juliet, naked”. About how people can waste years and years of their life. How they come to realise that one day, and how they cope with it. Not really uplifting. But funny, nonetheless.

5. The new ....
I still want a new laptop, a new puppy, a new camera, new inspiration, new energy, a new ironing board, a new haircut, and a new carpet in the living room. Oh, and please: a new remedy against hay fever, one that doesn’t make me sleepy. That’ll be all for now, thanks.