cream of asparagus

we three had finished our starters. tante, though, who is three years shy of her 100th birthday, savoured her soup at her own sweet pace, and when she perceived the waiter approaching, intent on preparing our table for the next course, she chuckled into her spoon.

"take your time!", she muttered. "we old ladies are abominably slow". as the waiter turned on his heel, she sipped - unruffled - further.

we do love her.

and maybe not.

i could hardly concentrate on the pictures wanting to be taken, there on the harbourfront at aberdeen, because an energetic, elderly-but-ageless little chinese entrepeneuse followed us everywhere we went.
"sampan? sampan?" she wheedled. "very cheap! very nice! see jumbo restaurant!". my husband, who has traveled extensively in china, answered - time after time - "maybe later!". and - time after time - she muttered "maybe later! ahh!" and paused in her pursuit, only to pop up moments later to try again: a relentless wrinkled shadow in a bamboo hat.

will you stay for tea?

i have been an inattentive hostess, but i am determined to lay my table with sweetness and delicacies again.
you are very patient, and oh-so-very welcome.

and the seasons

months, months have passed.
i am appalled at my own inexplicable neglectfulness.

the 13:15 at 13:25

if you're on your way to an appointment in, say, arnhem, and your train coupé bears a striking resemblance to this one: get off at the next stop.
this - the granny-smith-green-one - is the train to maastricht.

you want the mauve one.
trust me.

for the sake of posterity

my husband's parental home - a little self-made wooden house on the edge of a farmer's field - has hardly changed since i first made its acquaintance  as "the foreign girlfriend", 30 years ago.
it is still an oasis of old-fashioned "gezelligheid", small but with its space used well, full of light, a little less tidy since my father-in-law sadly found himself alone in his golden years.
and because it is on leased land, it cannot be inherited, so i wanted, needed to try coaxing the essence of it onto film.

ere the bonnie boat was won

a lot of time has passed - time at home, time in italy, time in norfolk, time happy, time distracted, time bright and time dreary - and i realised today that june will seem an empty month if i don't post now.

i sometimes wonder why i continue. but somehow i can't imagine not.

that soothe, and heal, and bless

last year on his birthday, our friend sander was so weakened by his multiple myeloma, and the severity of the treatments he was undergoing, that he could manage no more than an hour of quiet participation in his own festivities.
this year on his birthday, following a successful bone marrow transplant and months of therapy, he was radiantly and joyously in the limelight, opening gifts, uncorking wine, conversing...
...and piling his own party pizzas enthusiastically with parmesan and prosciutto, a feat undreamable just 12 months ago.

relentless restlessness

this length of blue and gold and aqua, draped over this chair, or - for that matter - any chair, means that my daughter is home between adventures.
when i took this, she was.
she'll be back from norway, though, in a mere week, scarf and all.

imminent flight

i've been so looking forward to this holiday, and it begins, happily, in an hour.

i'll be back in april.