Back in 2005, we had back to back conference events in China. I LOVED Beijing; every single minute- even the crazy taxis and traffic. I had a great time in Shanghai too, even though it did not charm me the way Beijing did; Shanghai has it's wonderful elements. One of the best things to visit is the Shanghai Museum. Beautifully curated; equipped with a fine audio tour, I spent a very happy afternoon there, and even returned with Andries for a second time later. That is high marks for a museum: usually, once seen, I am done. But this museum is full of funerary art. And we all know about Jana's penchant for funerary art...well, maybe you don't...I only realized it after looking at my photos of Florence, Italy. I spend an awful lot of time around dead folks things.
So I was working companionably this weekend alongside Himself at the ancient but still serviceable Big Laptop, and came across the 2005 China photos. I have backed them up in a cloud, but they aren't on the PC we use for everyday, hmmmm how to get them there? In the meantime here are some highlights from the Museum
Monday, April 30, 2012
Tuesday, April 17, 2012
Sunday, April 15, 2012
Little flat boy Tyler
Little flat man Tyler
arrived one day
in the post;
he came to play
All through Easter did he stay
riding in our pocket.
Many photos later
we bid a fond adieu
We had such fun
with little Flat One
we share it now with you!
I hope the album linky works!!
click on the photo to see the album!!
arrived one dayin the post;
he came to play
All through Easter did he stay
riding in our pocket.
Many photos later
we bid a fond adieu
We had such fun
with little Flat One
we share it now with you!
I hope the album linky works!!
click on the photo to see the album!!
Tuesday, February 28, 2012
ROAD KILL
Along the road to eternity one meets all sorts of fellow travelers. Some keep in step along the entire way, some whizz through, leaving indelible memories behind; some fall out of step, fall behind, and are lost, some catch back up after a while. Some fellow travelers are destined to become road kill.
Yes, indeed, when I accidentally kill a relationship it is very like road kill. You know, when one day you are totally immersed in each other’s life (so I think) and the next day, poof, gone, dead as a doornail friendship. No explanations.
I never forget it. It makes me worried about every other relationship. I lose my choice making confidence. I mourn every time I think about it. Did I run over your feelings accidentally or did you jump in front of the oncoming destruction. Please just tell me what happened!
I like to think I am a caring, compassionate, loyal person; someone you would like to be a friend with. I have character flaws that might be off-putting. One being: I don’t trust easily, because for a while abandonment was my middle name. Death, divorce, disloyalty have all left significant scars on my mental landscape. But if I do trust you and I open my heart to you I expect you to be on that eternal road with me for a good long time, because I am loyal. Disposable is not a word I use as an adjective in front of friend.
On bad days, I pick open those memories. Am I really such a bad friend? Why did I think we were friends? And boy, do I wish I knew the answer.
Because I miss you,still.
Monday, February 13, 2012
Backroads
The other day started out poorly. I suppose I was tired, I often am if I don't keep the CPAP mask on all night. Himself was away on a long business jaunt; I like it less and less to be left behind. I misplaced keys, I tried to pack too much in to the morning; just dumb shoot-myself-in-the-foot things I do.
Later in the day I was driving home from an appointment. I chose the longer but more scenic route. The radio was playing some song that I was dancing to in my head. One thought lead to another and I realized how often I took the back road, the more scenic route in life. It takes longer to get to the destination, it is not as direct, nor efficient. Sometimes the back road is dark, lonely, and scary. It often is not the way people expect.
But I get where I need to be eventually, and usually have a great story to tell as well.
Like dancing in my head. I do it often. I do it well. Sometimes I skate too. I wanted to dance when I was a girl. According to "them", I was too tall; I was large boned. I was not a prima ballerina type. To my parents, dancing was ballet, period. I guess it never occurred to "them" that my not so Margot Fonteyn physique did not disqualify me from other forms of dance. Later in life, the backroads took me to ethnic dance, and ballroom, and theatre dance. I was pretty good after all.
But now I am traveling autumn roads, and my time and season for dance is over. So I dance in my head. Oh, how I dance! I hardly recognize the confident, strong, free woman who dances on the stage of my mind.
But as I drove on that frosty afternoon backroad, I smiled.
Backroads are worth traveling.
Later in the day I was driving home from an appointment. I chose the longer but more scenic route. The radio was playing some song that I was dancing to in my head. One thought lead to another and I realized how often I took the back road, the more scenic route in life. It takes longer to get to the destination, it is not as direct, nor efficient. Sometimes the back road is dark, lonely, and scary. It often is not the way people expect.
But I get where I need to be eventually, and usually have a great story to tell as well.
Like dancing in my head. I do it often. I do it well. Sometimes I skate too. I wanted to dance when I was a girl. According to "them", I was too tall; I was large boned. I was not a prima ballerina type. To my parents, dancing was ballet, period. I guess it never occurred to "them" that my not so Margot Fonteyn physique did not disqualify me from other forms of dance. Later in life, the backroads took me to ethnic dance, and ballroom, and theatre dance. I was pretty good after all.
But now I am traveling autumn roads, and my time and season for dance is over. So I dance in my head. Oh, how I dance! I hardly recognize the confident, strong, free woman who dances on the stage of my mind.
But as I drove on that frosty afternoon backroad, I smiled.
Backroads are worth traveling.
Monday, January 23, 2012
Rolltop Desk, adieu
I cannot remember not loving wooden furniture in all its warmth and comfortable glory. Along our partnership journey we have collected a few eclectic bits here and there, generally secondhand, and some real treasures right off the pile awaiting the bone and rag man ( or whatever he is called these days) on neighborhood curb sides. I don't know what we will do to replace our hybrid dining table. Legs and frame from one table and in-folding extension top from another: it is higher than most tables and suits our family well. I dare not think what a custom made version of that would cost.
In fact, I pretty much don't know how much new furniture costs, period. We built our beds, our wardrobes, our bedside tables. OK, so I designed them and Himself made them while I hovered. Our bedroom shelving is IKEA adjustable open stuff...not particularly high end. We have purchased two sofas new, no three, but one was super crappy dirt cheap make do foam rubber sofa bed because we needed somewhere to sit and sleep when we moved here. Long gone.
There is only one piece of bought new furniture that I can think of: furniture that was purchased simply as an I-want and the price was right. The Rolltop Desk. Oh man, I was thrilled to find it- in our local DIY of all places. We didn't really need it. But I had to have it. I swoon over roll top desks. I can't remember how we got it home, since at that time we didn't own a car. But home it came- I remember fitting it together and giving it a good rubdown with beeswax. AH! My desk.
Yeah.yeah. Whose desk? Somehow it never really was my desk after all. It was always so chockablock with stuff that no one ever sat at it . I tried a few times to organize and streamline the chaos. However, my methods of archiving and administration are polarly different than Himself's style; I finally gave up. Once in a while I would shove stuff around so the top came down and I wouldn't have to look at the mess. It was a total fail as a desk in reality. It was a great catchall though.
The renovation of the house has finally reached the dining room, which is also a study/office most of the time (when I was sewing in here it was a three ring circus.) We plan to line the walls with book and showcases and have just the refectory table in here with ladderback chairs. No room for any desk.
Goodbye, lovely rolltop.
So Himself put it on the internet for sale and within a couple of hours it got snapped up. Amazing because most Dutchfolk like streamlined steel and glass these days- sharp corners, straight lines, black leather.
I am trying not to think about it. I still love that desk.
I am sorta planning on not being here Saturday when it goes to its new home.
She'll probably use it like a desk.
I wonder if I can come and visit ?
In fact, I pretty much don't know how much new furniture costs, period. We built our beds, our wardrobes, our bedside tables. OK, so I designed them and Himself made them while I hovered. Our bedroom shelving is IKEA adjustable open stuff...not particularly high end. We have purchased two sofas new, no three, but one was super crappy dirt cheap make do foam rubber sofa bed because we needed somewhere to sit and sleep when we moved here. Long gone.
There is only one piece of bought new furniture that I can think of: furniture that was purchased simply as an I-want and the price was right. The Rolltop Desk. Oh man, I was thrilled to find it- in our local DIY of all places. We didn't really need it. But I had to have it. I swoon over roll top desks. I can't remember how we got it home, since at that time we didn't own a car. But home it came- I remember fitting it together and giving it a good rubdown with beeswax. AH! My desk.
 |
| It still looks pretty good |
 |
| Just look at all those drawers to be organized and tidy |
Yeah.yeah. Whose desk? Somehow it never really was my desk after all. It was always so chockablock with stuff that no one ever sat at it . I tried a few times to organize and streamline the chaos. However, my methods of archiving and administration are polarly different than Himself's style; I finally gave up. Once in a while I would shove stuff around so the top came down and I wouldn't have to look at the mess. It was a total fail as a desk in reality. It was a great catchall though.
The renovation of the house has finally reached the dining room, which is also a study/office most of the time (when I was sewing in here it was a three ring circus.) We plan to line the walls with book and showcases and have just the refectory table in here with ladderback chairs. No room for any desk.
Goodbye, lovely rolltop.
So Himself put it on the internet for sale and within a couple of hours it got snapped up. Amazing because most Dutchfolk like streamlined steel and glass these days- sharp corners, straight lines, black leather.
I am trying not to think about it. I still love that desk.
I am sorta planning on not being here Saturday when it goes to its new home.
She'll probably use it like a desk.
I wonder if I can come and visit ?
Sunday, January 22, 2012
How It All Began...
I never assumed I would see so much of this planet. My parents were avid tourists, certainly, and we did the annual family vacation thing like USAmericans do. Mother continued to tour the world after my dad died; but I was a working single parent and the few vacations I ever had back when those children were young were to take the kids to see Grammy, my brother's wedding, and a couple of trips to see my sister on her husband's Coast Guard base; my godchild's baptism in New Mexico. Mother took me to Paris and Luxembourg in the mid 1980's. The most important memory I have from that tour is meeting her cousin in Haller, Lux, and finding my parents'wedding photo in their family's photo album; I also remember that it seemed like every warm meal had french fries in Paris ( cuisine?) I was a tourist and an infrequent one at that.
My worldview, my lifestyle, and just about everything else dramatically changed in 1990 when I met my husband, a native Dutchman. Our romance sparked on a road tour from Wisconsin to New Mexico, and one year later as I visited Utrecht, Netherlands, at his invitation, I accepted his proposal of marriage. And just like that, I became a traveler.
I am on three concurrent journeys:
1. the partnership journey: with its pitfalls and perils complicated by culture, language and personalities. Himself is a cutting edge solid-state research chemist. He makes light. He is in demand all over the world. He is a professor at Utrecht University. Most of our far flung trips are because of his work.
2. the parenting journey: re-learning to parent WITH a companion, in middle age, in a foreign environment. I was 43 when David came along: Else was born just short of 17 months later. Middle age, motherhood and menopause is a heady mix.
3. the spiritual journey: becoming a better follower of Christ. I am a Latter-day Saint. FAR from Salt lake City. Learning to pick my battles.
I could have started this blog many times over the last 20 years: why now? Truly, I am determined to find a way to share my photos and impressions of the world that doesn't require three different kinds of contact. Some folks don't use Facebook, others won't click a link. Others want to live the whole experience with me. I struggle with uploading, downloading and the internet in general. ( a whole blog experience in itself) Now that the parenting journey is nearly at the end of the teen years, I have more time to write, I travel more with Himself, sometimes, I feel like I have something useful to share. So.
We just got back from 10 days in Israel. We have been to China, Japan, all over Europe, Brazil. This summer we toured for 5 weeks in the Mountain West of the Unite States. With a 17 and 18 year old. And we survived! As I sort through the thousands of photos and memories, I invite you to come along for the ride.
P.S. Himself was amazed: You forgot New Zealand! Indeed, how could I? It was the bestest time.
My worldview, my lifestyle, and just about everything else dramatically changed in 1990 when I met my husband, a native Dutchman. Our romance sparked on a road tour from Wisconsin to New Mexico, and one year later as I visited Utrecht, Netherlands, at his invitation, I accepted his proposal of marriage. And just like that, I became a traveler.
I am on three concurrent journeys:
1. the partnership journey: with its pitfalls and perils complicated by culture, language and personalities. Himself is a cutting edge solid-state research chemist. He makes light. He is in demand all over the world. He is a professor at Utrecht University. Most of our far flung trips are because of his work.
2. the parenting journey: re-learning to parent WITH a companion, in middle age, in a foreign environment. I was 43 when David came along: Else was born just short of 17 months later. Middle age, motherhood and menopause is a heady mix.
3. the spiritual journey: becoming a better follower of Christ. I am a Latter-day Saint. FAR from Salt lake City. Learning to pick my battles.
I could have started this blog many times over the last 20 years: why now? Truly, I am determined to find a way to share my photos and impressions of the world that doesn't require three different kinds of contact. Some folks don't use Facebook, others won't click a link. Others want to live the whole experience with me. I struggle with uploading, downloading and the internet in general. ( a whole blog experience in itself) Now that the parenting journey is nearly at the end of the teen years, I have more time to write, I travel more with Himself, sometimes, I feel like I have something useful to share. So.
We just got back from 10 days in Israel. We have been to China, Japan, all over Europe, Brazil. This summer we toured for 5 weeks in the Mountain West of the Unite States. With a 17 and 18 year old. And we survived! As I sort through the thousands of photos and memories, I invite you to come along for the ride.
P.S. Himself was amazed: You forgot New Zealand! Indeed, how could I? It was the bestest time.
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