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Posts Tagged ‘John Mora’

New Header.

The new header is a slice of a piece of art done by John Mora, a favorite artist of mine, and I asked his permission to use it. Here is the complete piece.

Thanks, John.

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4:00 PM. On the day after the day you say you feel depressed, you will feel better. That’s some sort of a rule that has been confirmed by my SPN this morning. It is the very act of owning up to the mood and allowing yourself to have it and not fight it anymore, that makes you feel better and more able to bear it.

As a result, I have had a very decent day, that I can’t complain about at all, and that I can even look back upon with a certain amount of satisfaction. After I saw my SPN, I went to have cappuccinos with Eduard at his work and from there I went to M&S Fashion, where I bought Capri pants and two tank tops and a necklace. This was after I found a cute little lavender colored dress in my closet this morning that I don’t remember buying, after I also found two other little dresses there last week that I also don’t remember buying.

The theory is that I buy these when I am in a dysphoric mood and very high strung and I don’t consciously store this information in my memory, so it is all a surprise later on. My closet is not very big and the clothes are packed in, so every once in a while I have a good look around and make these discoveries. Now I wonder what else is in there that I don’t know about and I am a little bit afraid to look. I can tell by the labels where it has been bought, but I have no memory of doing so. I wish I would also buy shoes and jewelry this way, because I really need them as well.

So, anyway, I bought a nice pair of Capri pants and I am wearing those now and they are very comfortable. I had forgotten that I have two other pairs, but luckily, these are beige and the others are white and black. The tank tops are green and black. The necklace is adorable and it is a rule that, when I buy several kinds of clothes, I also buy a necklace. I love and adore necklaces. I share this with my younger sister who always wears one too. I feel naked if I don’t wear a necklace and will turn around and go home and put one on if I am going somewhere. Contrary to that, I have been wearing tiny titanium earrings and not those big jangly ones that make my ears irritated and infected, although I like wearing them too. Maybe I will wear those again the next time I get hypo manic, but you can’t plan those things. It has to happen naturally.

My SPN said that I gave the appearance of being very together and very calm and relaxed and, funnily enough, I was. That’s exactly how I was feeling this morning. I felt like a cool, calm, collected adult. That doesn’t happen very often, that I just very calmly sit and give off those vibes. At least not in the office of my SPN. Really, it is the perfect place not to be cool, calm and collected. You’re supposed to show your real feelings there, after all. It felt like a great serenity had settled on me and a lot of clarity also. I think it is a result of yesterday’s confession to myself, that I allowed myself to be in a certain mood and didn’t make a big deal out of it. Hopefully it is a sign of maturity, but it can just be a sign of a certain mood.

I took a nap on the sofa when I came home from downtown and then took another nap in bed after Eduard got home. It was lovely. I am sleeping a lot now and I like it very much. It is all healing sleep, but I don’t want to sleep too much during the day, because it will subtract from any sleep I get at night, but I do very spontaneously fall asleep.

The image above is made from a collage made by John Mora tittled “back.soon.” Here is the original:

Yes, you’ve guessed it, I like John’s art very much and he allows me to use it as a basis for my contraptions. I see that right now I keep repeating one shape, so I must break free of that and get into something else. That happens.

I am listening to Dire Straights right now, which is a bit more cheerful than Leonard Cohen, whom I guess I just don’t get, but I’ve got an Amy Winehouse CD lying ready to be played here. It’s from the library and I had to put a reservation on it. I have to upload it to my Real Player. I haven’t read the news about Amy, but I guess it isn’t good. Something about drugs and beating people up. Poor thing. I suppose fame will do that to you. I suppose my moods would take a run with me if I suddenly were to become famous. I would need a full time therapist.

Speaking of therapists, my SPN is going to be talking to the Personality Disorder Team on my behalf and I will hopefully get a psychiatrist and a therapist appointed to me. The psychiatrist will be there for the medical part and the medication and the therapist for the, well, the therapy. I am a bit nervous about leaving my SPN behind me, because she is very good, but I do think I need the specialized help, because I am so fragile and I just can’t afford many more big slides downward. I can’t afford the drama and the tragedy and the tears and the pain and the sadness.

Well, enough said about that, let’s not waste words on that now. Let’s think of something completely different. Like how to end this epistle. It’s all good and well to sit here and type as if there is no tomorrow, but there is and I need to keep some words in storage for that day too.

I hope you all had a really great day and that all the best of your wishes came true. Listen to me! As if I am your fairy godmother.

Have a good evening, I am going to save Amy now, upload her I mean. Ciao…

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3:30 PM. Today I had to admit to myself a truth that I had not wanted to admit to, namely that if it looks like a duck and it acts like a duck, it must be a duck. So, if it looks like a depression and it acts like a depression, it must be a depression and the minute I admitted that to myself, I knew I was right and I could stop pretending it was anything else.

Since then I have contemplated the whole thing and realized that this has been going on for about a week, or it has been on its way that long. The first signs of it showed up a week ago and I pretended not to notice and called them something else, which is fine except that at one point you have to face up to reality.

Now I can admit that I don’t feel that great and that everything feels like it requires an awful lot of effort, too much effort as a matter of fact and far more energy than I can garner. As a matter of fact, I just took a nap on the sofa and when I woke up, I felt a feeling of terrible dread at the thought of the things I had to do and knew I could not complete. Along with that came a slight feeling of disgust with myself at being that disabled. Well, cal it a major feeling of disgust and a feeling of doom. Those feelings of doom I was not having yesterday, or was pretending I wasn’t having.

I am an old hand at depression, so I am not that concerned. I’ll get through this one just fine and it is a mild depression so far, it isn’t a huge one. I don’t need to lie down in bed with it and suffer. I’ll make an adjustment to one of my medications and that is about all I can do there. Tomorrow I have an appointment with my SPN and we’ll discuss this further, but I don’t need to say much about it, because I get to do that all here. 🙂 You may be an unwilling audience, but then I suggest you stop reading, because I can’t promise you that I won’t bore you with this subject any more.

In the meantime, I am listening to Leonard Cohen, because he is one of Eduard’s favorite artists. Talk about being depressed! I find the man so sad and downhearted and I am just referring to his texts, of course. I don’t know how he is in real life and if he is still singing such sad songs nowadays. This is all his earlier work that we are listening to. I am always surprised at the choice of Eduard’s music, because it very often seems so downcast and he likes all the music from the late sixties and the romantic classics, which are not known for their cheerfulness.

Jeez, don’t listen to Leonard Cohen when you are depressed, it will plunge you in a hole. Ignore his texts. He is a Jewish boy singing about Jesus and nuns in a mournful way. Do not listen to the words!

6:00 PM. I fell asleep on the sofa again listening to Leonard’s mournful voice after I discussed Eduard’s choice of music with him. That didn’t make me much wiser, except to say that Eduard listens for nostalgic reasons. I can’t identify with that at all, because I don’t have nostalgia for times past, I am usually glad they are over and when I think back on times past, it is usually with some amount of discomfort. I am not big on nostalgia. I can listen to some music that is about 17 years old, because I associate it with my freedom and emancipation, but that is about it. Even with this music I have mixed feelings, such as, a lot of things shouldn’t have happened, but they did, regardless of my intentions.

When you finally, but still quite suddenly, leave a very long unhappy marriage, you have very mixed feelings about that. At least, I did. I felt as if I had escaped my inevitable fate, but I also felt like a traitor who had committed a betrayal. I left one kind of very heavy unhappiness behind me, but I carried another with me after that. Still, I did not go back. It would have been impossible. It would have been like asking a prisoner to go back to jail voluntarily. My ex-husband was my downfall and if I had gone back, I would have emotionally died, as I was slowly dying already. That all sounds very dramatic, but it is the truth. It is a horrible thing to be married to the last person on earth you should be married to.

Of course, you have to remember how young i was when I got married and how little I really knew my ex-husband. I was 17 and I had known him for 6 months and for three of those we were separated. Absence makes the heart grow fonder? I was taking a huge risk, but I didn’t realize it at the time. It is a shame that nobody around me warned me of the dangers and the pitfalls. I would maybe have gotten out when the writing appeared on the wall and not have been embarrassed and not have worried about saving face. Alas, that is all talking after the facts and it can’t be undone.

I am, however, left with a past that I am very sensitive about and that I have a hard time looking back upon, as I look back and see a lot of sadness and pain. I don’t look back nostalgically. Therefor, I feel robbed of a whole part of my life that I have to deny ever happened and don’t like to talk about, don’t even like to remember, can’t reminisce about with other people.

I had my older sister on the phone this morning and she remembered a vacation she spent with me back then and I hardly recalled what she was talking about, except that I got a great big feeling of discomfort and sadness and could only tell her that I did not like to look back on that time. For her it had been a great vacation, for me it had been something else altogether. Great discomfort and embarrassment and sadness.

You see how I put so much value into the marriage I am in now. It is very important to me that it is a success and not one that I’ll have to look back on with the same amount of discomfort and sadness. Not that I think it would be the case, but I would hate to lose it. It would horrify me.

run.way

I’ve just been busy artistically for about an hour and I feel so perked up now. That really did me a lot of good. It got a bunch of cobwebs out of my head. What do you call a bunch of cobwebs? A bevy of them? Or a swarm of them? No, I don’t think so. Either way, it worked. So, sitting behind the computer can be good for you.

I just got called by what I think was a colleague of Eduard trying to pull one over on me. She asked me how old I was and I said I was 83. Then she asked me if any of my family members were looking for work and I said that all my 24 grandchildren were on the dole and looking for a job and then she said, “Well, obviously Ma’am, you are making fun of me and are not at all serious,” and then she hung up. So, now I don’t know who it really was. Oh, well…

10:00 PM. I just slept on the sofa some more. It is all I seem to do. Now I am waiting for Eduard to get home, because he doesn’t have to work late tonight.

I feel a huge amount of shame and embarrassment because of the things I am writing down, when, in fact, I always write like this, don’t I? Now isn’t any different than any other times, is it? I am literally breaking out in a cold sweat because of it, but I am not backing down. I am letting it stand and damn the embarrassment and shame. Those feelings all come with feeling depressed, I am sure. It makes you feel so inadequate and small.

Oh, by the way. The image above is made from a digital collage by John Mora named “run.way.” Here it is:

John does wonderful work and if you’re not familiar with him, you should really visit his blog where he has several sites to look at his artwork. John is the master artist in digital work.

Oh lord, I am yawning something awful. I think I had better just go to bed and wait for Eduard there. I will not add to this in the morning. It has gotten long enough as it is. I will do something else if I happen to wake up early during the night.

Have yourself a good rest of the Tuesday or a good start of the Wednesday. Watch out for that first step, it’s what trips you up.

Ciao…

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Cigarettes Case

John Mora has gone and done it and is teaching us how he makes his magical paintings here. Lord have mercy on our souls. How will we ever be able to accomplish the things that John has? The man is nothing more than delusional if he thinks I can even come close to doing anything like that and forget about me even coming close to understanding the instructions. I am just not capable of it! Still, Frances seems to be very enthused and I think you good people should all speed over there and take advantage of John’s good will. I have fear of accomplishment, I hope you all understand that, of course!

I seem to be up to my old shenanigans and am up again at an ungodly hour. It must be the coffee and the cigarettes I need so badly, and going to the bathroom that gets me up so early. I did find Jesker sleeping by my side of the bed and two of the cats at my feet, so I do feel some amount of loyalty from my pets. They don’t dislike me altogether. As if I ever doubted that, right?

As I type this, I am listening to Carl Orff’s “Carmina Burina” and I can recommend it for keeping up a steady typing speed, it is so upbeat and lively and so powerfully sung. I have the MP3 player sat at, “Play all files in the current folder randomly,” so I get a good bit of music all at once. Yesterday evening I got everything from “Tous les Matins du Monde” and it was lovely. I like Baroque music for all the reasons that Eduard dislikes it, which is probably also why he dislikes Jazz.

I got a really good haircut yesterday. I said to the girl who cuts my hair, that I wanted easy hair ans she cut it short, so I don’t have to do a thing with it, but not too short so I look like a boy. It makes me look younger too, which is a nice side effect. I have to go to the hairdresser every month and not every two months, because my hair grows quickly and then I have to start messing around with hairspray to get it to stay in shape. I must remember this as a rule: messing around with hairspray too much, means going to the hairdresser! Remember that, Irene! You all will remind me, won’t you?

I decided to postpone grocery shopping until today, because I simply didn’t fee like it, but then I ended up riding my bike over to the store in the evening to buy some cookies for me and some tortillas for Eduard to make quesadilla’s with, because he had never had those before. It was my pleasure to nuke him his first one in the microwave and after that, he was on his own. You can’t baby those guys! I think it is safe to say that Eduard is hooked on them now. Tortillas are expensive to buy here. I got 6 for 1,48 Euros. That’s too much money.

Anyway, today I have to do the real grocery shopping, but I don’t think there is that much to get actually. Just odds and ends you can’t live without, like grated cheese and fruit juice. I had some leftover goat cheese that belonged to Eduard yesterday and it was just delicious. It’s the harder kind that slices really well and Jekser was sitting next to me, drooling.

The Other Square.

Oh goodness, I almost forgot, I am supposed to do a meme, because I was Maggie May’s first commenter yesterday. I am allowed to answer the following questions with a one word answer only. So here we go:

Where is your mobile phone? Coffeetable.
Your significant other? Bed.
Your hair? Short!
Your mother? Departed.
Your father? Lost.
Your favourite thing? Solitude.
Your dream last night? Confusing.
Your favourite drink? Coffee.
Your dream/goal? Gracefulness!
The room you are in? Livingroom.
Your ex? Delusional.
Your fear? Insanity.
Where you want to be in six years? Happier!
Where were you last night? Bed.
What you’re not? Smart!
Muffins? Declined.
One of your wish items? Happiness.
Where you grew up? Discrimination.
The last thing you did? Cigarette.
What are you wearing? Pajamas.
Your TV? Out.
Your pets?Four.
Your computer? ON!.
Your life? Dramatic!
Your mood? Changeable.
Missing Someone? Daughter.
Your car? None.
Something you’re not wearing? Socks
Favourite store? M&S Fashion.
Your summer? Later.
Like someone? Lots.
Your favourite colour? Black.
When was the last time you laughed? Yesterday.
The last time you cried? Weekend.

I’ll do the same as Maggie May and ask the first five commenters to do this meme, but you are under no obligation to do so, of course.

For God’s sake, after writing those exciting answers, I had to lie down on the sofa and sleep some more and I just woke up again. I am having a mug of Senseo now to help me get going, any minute now I should be there.

Okay, I am here just in time for the close of this post. I am still yawning just a bit, the Senseo isn’t quite doing its job yet and I am so afraid of my jaw locking when I yawn, as you know this happened to me once. A rather unpleasant experience which I don’t wish to repeat.

I am off to the physiotherapist this morning, she of the magical hands.

Restaurant

Have a great Thursday, I am sure you’ll manage just fine with Friday almost being here.

Ciao…


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I always visit the weblog of Alfonso Brezmes. He is a Spanish photographer who lives in Madrid and also makes great collages. Every once in a while he adds a link to his posts of some beautiful music that I have never heard off. It is always a very pleasant surprise and I feel that, again, I have been exposed to something very special.

So, if you want to hear some very beautiful and happy music I suggest you go here and if you want to hear something that has beauty and passion well, then go here. You will not be disappointed and I think you will like this music very much. By the way, it is sung in Portuguese, which sounds like a lovely language.

Yesterday was a very nice and mellow day. I just did the regular chores like I do on any given day and I didn’t worry too much about any heavy duty cleaning that needs to be done as I am waiting for springtime to get here and the springtime mood to go with it when I will open up all the windows and energetically start mopping the floors and washing the windows and the woodwork. At least, I am assuming that such a mood will strike me, as it seems to strike most housewives who live in climates that have cold and dark winters.

When the springtime comes, you have this urge to clean your burrow of rubbish and dirt and make it sparkling clean, at least that used to be the mythology behind that thought. I think that, to some degree, it still holds true and I really do see myself rolling up my sleeves and grabbing a bucket of soapy water and several rags and a broom. I very conveniently have a tendency to become hypo manic in the springtime, so I always do have extra energy anyway.

A few times a year, I like to do housework and I really care that my windows are clean and that the woodwork is shining. Most of the time I don’t care that much and I just do the regular jobs like dishes and laundry and dusting and vacuuming. I refuse to be a slave to my household, but a few times a year I care and then I do pull out all the stops. I think my brain is programmed that way to prevent the apartment from deteriorating too badly, it won’t look like it is in a derelict state.

The thing I don’t like about the return of spring is the return of the Formula One Racing Season. You know, when those racing cars drive endlessly similar laps around the track forever and ever in a mind numbing way and the only thing that is exciting is a three car pile up, or a flat tire, or a car catching on fire during a fuel stop.

Eduard loves watching the races as he likes watching dull sports and I suffer along while he finds enjoyment in them. It is so incredibly, irritatingly boring to watch those cars go around the track, sometimes I can just scream and the whole thing takes about two hours. It is almost as bad as watching field hockey or water polo. Curling is more fun to watch! There is no escape from it and the other women in the family pretend to like the races and sit and watch them with their men and afterwards the men send each other “relevant” emails about the race.

Oh well, it is good to have bitched about that! I am trying to figure out now if I watch anything that Eduard finds mind numbingly boring, but I can’t think of anything. I don’t watch that much TV and there aren’t that many programs I am hooked on. I used to like medical reality programs and Eduard disliked them because of all the blood and gore, so I stopped watching them. I am a very critical viewer, so I get irritated with “dumb” television easily. I refuse to watch a lot of programs because they are just fodder for the masses. I do have my principles.

I was going to post a little bit about Tibet now that the monks there are protesting against Chinese rule and Tibetans all over the world are protesting in face of the Olympic Games in Bejing, but when I looked into the matter of Tibet more closely it turned out to be quite a complicated issue and I can not do it justice here. I only want to say that I wish for the Tibetans to have self rule over their own country and for China to withdraw in an orderly manner and the for the Dalai Lama to return to his people, but I realize it is not as simple as all of that.

So, I’ll let that subject drop and leave it to more knowledgeable people to comment on.

Someone mentioned Pablo Nutini and New Shoes and I looked on You Tube and found this.


You Are Not Destined to Rule the World


You are destined for something else…

Like inventing a new type of cupcake.

You just don’t have the stomach for brutality.

But watch out – because many people do!

Today is Simply Scrumptious Saturday and I think I ought to have a Simply Scrumptious Pastry to celebrate the day. I am thinking of something fresh and fruity with real whipped cream. How does that sound? Do you think I can talk Eduard on going on such a mission to find me one of those? I am sure that if I whisper that thought into his ear I will, but will I do that? It is so bad for me! There must be Simply Scrumptious Other Things that are almost equally as good, but that are not as calorie rich. Yeah, right Irene!

My sister and I have figured out how to make a shorter walk with the dogs for the sake of Jesker, but it still gets us out together. So, we can still walk and have our much needed chats. Jesker is doing well. I set him loose on the field yesterday and he half ran to the middle of it. He sort of trotted and his legs weren’t shaking afterwards as if he was i
n a lot of pain, so those tablets are really helping him. Hallelujah!

This is not going to be a long post, because I don’t have that much to share as my life is one dull roar at the moment. Not that I am complaining in the least. Oh no, I like dull roars. Just a little peak and valley here and there and I am fine. Too much excitement will do me in.

You all have a Simply Scrumptious Saturday yourself in which ever way you want to fill that in. Sex and the City and that sort of stuff…

Ciao, la mia cara e gente bella.


P.S. Image courtesy of John Mora.

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Yesterday afternoon, Eduard came walking in with a big armful of leeks wrapped in crinkly clear plastic and I said to him, as he walked up to me to kiss me, “Oh, how nice of you to bring me flowers! It’s so kind of you to think of it.” He looked flabbergasted for a second, as if I had lost my mind since he had seen me in the morning. Then he laughed and said, “Yes, aren’t I a thoughtful husband?”

Now, there was a time when Eduard brought me a new bunch of flowers every week, until I told him to stop doing it, because I am never very successful when it comes to arranging flowers prettily in a vase and then subsequently making them last for more then a couple of days, unless they are chrysanthemums, which you can’t kill at all.

My flowers always start to turn brown and droop by the third day and then all topple over and look very sad no matter how much fresh water I give them. The florist always gives you a little package of fresh flower food to dissolve in the water, but I suspect it is pure poison and meant to kill off the flowers in the least amount of time. This to ensure that you’ll buy flowers twice a week instead of just once.

So, now Eduard only buys me flowers on very special occasions, like when it hails on a Tuesday in May and there is a rainbow at the very same time. I’d rather receive a potted plant. I have a hard enough time keeping them alive. I either over water them or forget about them all together. Although I must say, that my piggy back plants are now doing well, after I almost drowned them, and that my finger plant is getting lots of new leaves, so I am doing something right.

I am just not like Martha Stewart, no matter how much I tried to be like her in my former life, and I can’t begin to tell you how hard I find it to create little tasteful domestic tableaux in my living room. You know, artfully arranged items that look as if they have been accidentally put together? I know how to do it and could really have a go at it if I tried hard, but the fussiness of it is too much for me and interferes with my over orderly mind that wants to have the least amount of items on any surface.

I also don’t like for things to be skillfully preplanned to make an impression, so I will never perfectly arrange a dining table. At some point, I will start to rebel and throw the napkins to the floor and stomp on them, nor do all my wine glasses match. I dare people to think less of me because of it.

Anyway, Babaloo was talking about domestic skills, such as knitting and crocheting and darning socks, in her latest post and that reminded me of the fact that I did learn to do these things when I was a girl at school. Back then, young girls were supposed to master these fine arts of womanhood and it was considered a given fact that you would love to learn them. Of course, I didn’t, because I liked hanging out with my father in his workshop and handle tools.

So, I had to learn how to knit and crochet and embroider and every bit of work was like doing slave labor and I couldn’t understand why some of the girls seemed to like it so much and turn out perfectly knitted socks that they knitted on four needles.

Luckily, we didn’t have to learn how to cook, because that would have been a complete disaster and I am sure I would have burned everything with my less than enthusiastic attention span.

Needless to say, I always got a bad grade on this part of my report card and frankly, I didn’t really care.

—————

Around My Kitchen Table posted about looking your age when you are young and wanting to look older, and growing older and really looking your age.

I was very fortunate in that I looked sixteen when I was fourteen and could get the attention of boys that were older than I was. I also tried to act more grown up, but that had been a strategy of mine all along, because I wanted to receive praise for that particular talent. I loved being “older” than I really was and, because I was also a younger student than the other kids in my class, I was usually surrounded by kids that were a year or two ahead of me in age.

Anyway, I always had boyfriends that were about three years older than I was, but back in those days, that was quite meaningless, as we were all “good” kids and none of us fooled around. We were all raised very strictly and God forbid!

As I grew older I started to look my age for a while, but for a long time in my twenties I was asked for my I.D. when I tried to buy alcohol, which was okay with me by that point, because I already had two kids and I didn’t mind if someone thought I was younger than I was. In my thirties I started to look my age, but then, as I got older, I started to look younger again and now I think I look younger than the actual age of 54 that I am. Although I may be completely deluded and live under a false assumption. If so, let me keep on believing that, please.

The thing is, I am blessed with very good skin and I got that from my mother, who also had very good skin and who never used any sort of special beauty products, she just used soap and water to clean her face. Of course, having good skin is no talent, it’s something you just happen to be lucky enough to have.

I use a face wash to clean my skin and I sometimes use a facial cream, but I have to be careful, because I tend to have sensitive reactions to the ingredients in the creams. I am about to try a new product from the Hema, which is especially made for sensitive skin and I hope it works. And I don’t think I need to go out and spend a lot of Euros on a facial cream.

—————

The man came over yesterday afternoon to fix the water heater one more time. I greeted him with gladness in my heart and a smile on my face, which I think he appreciated, because he was probably expecting a grumpy customer.

He took the front panel of the heater and after about a minute I heard him grumble about something and a short time after that the heater started up again and he reappeared with a look of relief on his face. He said, “Yes, I am sorry, it was my mistake, I had forgotten to reconnect something.” Well, it was good of him to own up to it and we have been warm ever since and that has been very nice. There are still honest and competent workmen out there.

—————

We notice that Jesker does ever so much better when we give him his pain medication in the morning. He moves more fluidly for the rest of the day and he seems to be in a better mood also, so in spite of my misgivings, I think we will keep giving it to him. We have no idea what sort of pain he has been living with, but I’ll do anything to bring him any sort of relief and he is an extra special dog now, since Barb made him his award.

Oh yes, of course, I changed the look of my whole blog, didn’t I? I did that yesterday afternoon when I had idle hands. Oh boy, Irene and idle hands! I do so love messing around with the look of my blog, but I don’t think I will be making any major changes for awhile now. I am quite happy with the way it looks now and I love the tulips and do not expect to be sued by the Green Left Party. Knock on wood!

Well, that’s it for this post for today. Quite frankly, I didn’t think I had it in me and, voilá, there it is after all. If you squeeze your brain a little bit, something is bound to come out.

Eduard has taken today and tomorrow off, so he has a four day weekend. He has been working extra hours, because his colleague had the flu. It will be nice to have him home and he has shut off his mobile phone, so nobody can bother him and they can only call me in emergencies.

I hope you all have a terrifically good Thursday with good weather to get around in. Here the wind is still blowing quite hard, but it has stopped raining for now. Actually, for a rainy country, the Netherlands aren’t that rainy.

Ciao…
P.S. Image courtesy of John Mora.

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