Wednesday, November 30, 2005

Whale-watching in the Lowlands II

... where all is revealed...

When Isabelle uses her binoculars, she squeezes her eyes shut, very hard. This has often in the past led to a situation combining the following ingredients:

1) Isabelle, eyes closed;
2) the binoculars;
3) me repeatedly saying 'il faut ouvrir les yeux, ma puce, ouvre les yeux' (open your eyes, my duck, you have to open your eyes).

Dream I

I dreamt that my dream was a website, and by scrolling down it I made the dream happen, in a chronological order. But I kept getting distracted by annoying pop-up banners and a malfunctioning mouse whose idea of scrolling was jumping randomly up and down the page.

Whale-watching in the Lowlands

Early morning conversation with Isabelle:

I.: Isabelle ogen open parti
(phonetically: Beje oge ope pati)
(translation: Isabelle eyes open gone)

V: Qu'est-ce que tu dis mon amour?
(phonetically: keske tu di mo amoer)
(translation: what sayst thou my love?)

I. (much louder): Parti ogen open Isabelle
(phonetically: see earlier and reshuffle)
(translation: idem.)

Long silence (while V desperately attempts to make a number of unusual but relevant neural connections)

V: Ah, tu as perdu tes binocles!
(phonetically: a tu a perdu te binokl)
(translation: Ah, you have lost your binoculars!)

I.: Jaaaaa
(phonetically: jaaaaa)
(translation: yeeeeeees)

Please take a moment to admire V's clearly psychic powers. Thank you thank you, no more flowers.

Tuesday, November 29, 2005


This is so much fun, I'm back already, though this time with a sad note.

Tonight I had to say goodbye to a very dear friend of mine. She is flying back home, to her far away country, early in the morning, and we don't know whether or when she will return. Seeing her tonight for what might have been the last time made my heart cry out, and yet I am so grateful that I was given the chance to meet her, live with her and love her.

May the goddesses carry her on their wings to a place of safety and light. May they watch over her always. May they bring her joy and strength. And also some nice books to read while they're at it, since I've been told the postal service is somewhat unreliable in G......

So there goes one more piece of my heart, and by now it's spread out all over the planet (or almost), and I'm thinking, it's a pretty thin spread, so why don't you guys all move back a bit closer, then my heart tendrils don't have to reach quite so far. I mean what's wrong with here anyway? We have a nice temperate climate...

... and many other advantages you just have to experience first hand.

Right, I'm off to bed, to read 'The Structure of Scientific Revolutions' and ponder at length the meaning of life.

No more lard! Long live the bees...

This feels very odd. Please to forgive unease of first few posts. Will get into it soon. It's a promise.

Glad tidings from the wetlands: To all of you out there who worry about the psychological effects of being called 'spek' by one's parents, worry no more!

Isabelle has come up with her own nickname, she calls herself 'abeille'. Which we think is an eminently suitable name. She looks a bit like a bee. On a cloud background. Now we just wait for her to grow up and start reading Winnie the Pooh.

This morning her shoe had been filled by Saint-Nicolas, which in her rendition came out as 'koja schoen koja'. Chocolat and Nicolas being homophones and all that.

I'm off to get ready to play ersatz nymph (what is ersatz anyway?) at the defense of some Spanish person I've never heard of. Apparently, this is a hole in market: Lost your paranymph? We provide cheap and decorative replacements within the hour! Call +1-00-xxx. The Lost Nymph Service. Nah, that doesn't sound right. Will definitely think about it very seriously if multitude of other planned careers fail to materialize.

Off I go, nymphing nymphing away...