I fell asleep on the sofa yesterday afternoon and woke up because of the alarm clock that I have set for 5 pm to take my medicines. I didn’t really properly wake up, but sat on the sofa bleary eyed and finally said to Eduard, “Excuse me, but I am going to bed.” That was at 6 pm and I went out like a candle once I got under the covers.
Of course, it also meant that I woke up very early after getting some seven hours of sleep, so I am writing this in the wee hours of the night. Getting seven hours of sleep is pretty good for me,
though, so I won’t complain about how early it is still. Tonight I will stay up properly until 11 pm or so, because we are going to see that film.
I have been reading a book called The Woman Who Gave Birth To Rabbits and it is a collection of short stories based on real events that happened over a period of 700 hundred years of history. They are obscure bits of knowledge that the author ran across while looking up other things. There was a woman who claimed to give birth to rabbits and she was very poor and hoped to get rich by claiming it and somehow proving it, although in the end it couldn’t be done. She was found out and punished and so was the physician who helped her make the claim.
I have been reading this book for two weeks now, as I keep falling asleep over it. I read several pages and fall asleep sitting up in bed and Eduard somehow has to get me to give up the book and get me to lie down under the covers. Of course, I don’t remember a thing of this in the morning, but I do remember what I have read. Some of that enters my dreams and I dream very interesting things about exotic people and intricate situations.
I have also been dreaming regularly about Muslims and it must be something that subconsciously keeps me occupied. Of course, Muslims are in the news a lot lately. There are one million of them in the Netherlands and they play an important role socially and politically and they are a very important group of people at the moment. We have lots of Muslims in the neighborhood and I see the mothers walk by every day, taking their children to school.
I am not ambiguous about how I feel about them as a group of people. They have their place in our society and I am a firm believer in integration. There is a group of people in the Netherlands who thinks they should all pack up and leave and they have their political leader too. A man who sews fear and hatred. This man is getting a lot of media attention and the problems of some of the Muslim groups are getting a lot of media attention also. It makes it all seem a lot worse than it really is and pulls everything out of proportion. I think I ruminate about this a lot and it keeps me occupied and that this causes me to have dreams about it. In my dreams I am always solving some social and cultural problem.
When I see the mothers and their children walk by, and when I see the men visiting their tea house, I certainly don’t think about terrorists or people who are a danger to my society. Far from it. I see people who are trying to survive and who are trying to make the best of it. I like the little shops they set up in the neighborhood, as it gives the shopping street a cozy and lived in quality and everybody shops there. We all go to the vegetable man. The shops bring new life into the area.
Well, anyway, it is complex and not really so. People with the wrong attitude make it more difficult than it should be and there are people like that at both sides of the fence. In a few generations, we will look back on this and see that the Muslims have become a vital and integrated group in our society, just as the Italians and the Spanish and the Greeks have become, and as the Jewish population once did. We have always absorbed other groups of people here. We just seem to have this phobia about Muslims, but maybe we had that about other groups of people also and have forgotten it.
I am glad that we live in such a mixed neighborhood. We have all sorts of people here, from higher educated to laborers and everything in between. I do like that aspect very much. We are sort of stuck right in the middle of it.
Yesterday, a cold wind was blowing. We had a little bit of rain, but it didn’t amount to much. In the afternoon it felt like it could have snowed, but then it didn’t. When I took the dog out at noontime, I was glad I was so warmly dressed in layers. Those girls who wear their jeans on their hips and such short tops must really be cold now. Remember? Suffering for the sake of beauty? I remember wearing mini skirts and pantie hose in the dead of winter.
In the morning I must have been one of the first people at the grocery store when it opened. There was hardly anyone there and I do like shopping this way. Everything looked so pristine and virginal. All the vegetables were neatly stacked. There was no one in front of me at the check out and I had just got enough groceries to fill two bags, which in turn filled both the bags on my bike. Subconsciously, I must have known that.
Today, Eduard will have to get some vegetables at the open air market, but yesterday he came home with a whole bag of Mandarin oranges, which had been left over from some luncheon that a group had given at the film house. Never say no to free food. I had almost bought some at the grocery store myself, but then decided not to for obscure reasons. Last week he came home with bag of little containers of yogurt that were very good.
You see how we have to do some kind of shopping almost every day without a car. It is almost like we go foraging. Eduard buys some things at his grocery store and I buy other things at my grocery store. Then there is the open air market twice a week for vegetables and cheese and fish and the drugstore for other goodies.
I bought two cartons of yogurt, one of which was decidedly cheaper than the other, to compare the two in quality. Well, of course, the more expensive one is better, but the best one is the one Eduard bought at his grocery store, which was thick and creamy and had bits of fruit in it and which was very satisfying to eat, so I guess that one wins. So, Eduard gets to buy the yogurt from now on.
I don’t know if it is a good thing that I like yogurt so much, but it is nonfat and low in calories, so it should be okay. It seems to me that I only need to look at a calorie and it translates itself into an ounce of fat. Eduard eats a horse and loses weight. I think I need to stop eating Cup a Soup. There are only 75 calories in a package, but if you like Cup a Soup and eat it regularly, it sure adds up quickly and so
mehow those calories seem heavier than other ones. Maybe if I just stick to the yogurt and the Mandarin oranges, I will lose weight more easily. Right now, nothing is happening. I feel heavy and I am afraid to weigh myself.
I am rationalizing again, aren’t I? As if there is something magical about food and if you stand on one foot with you eyes closed while you eat and only eat the crumbs, you won’t gain any weight. It is hard when you have a slow metabolism and your body has a tendency to hold on to everything that goes into it. They should invent a pill that speeds things up and I don’t mean a laxative, although that would help too.
My daughter forwarded me an email in which my grandson’s teacher commented positively on his writer’s skills. It seems he has quite a good imagination and knows how to get it down on paper. I am so happy about that. It is great to be verbally gifted and I am happy that the critter has the talent. It is something that runs in the family. My grandmother wrote very intricate stories about her travels around the world. That’s where the talent starts. My mother was verbally gifted, I am, my daughter is certainly, and now my grandson is also. I would love to read his stories and I hope my daughter saves every one of them.
My son also had quite an active imagination and the vocabulary to go with it. He was the kind of person who would sit back quietly in a crowd of people and say nothing at all and then, at the right time, say the most appropriate thing, even if you thought he had not been paying attention. My daughter can argue her point of view splendidly and does so regularly. She can convert the converted. She talks politics with her Dad and can even almost convert his Republican points of view. Except that he is either very dense or stubborn and votes what he wants anyway. Oh, well…
Well, that brings me to the end of my words for this night. I will now go and visit all of you and see what you are all up to. See what words of wisdom you have and what pieces of art. It’s always very exciting to see what you have done that I haven’t seen yet. When there is something new, I get a flutter of excitement in my stomach.
Have a great one, people, ciao…