Camera Critters, not a boar....

.....but a barrow! And not boring at all! His name is Nufnuf and he lives with his 'brother' Tumtum in our critterfilled garden.

Nice enough photos of Nufnuf. Sure.

But the pièce the résistance.....

Isn't he sweet?

Camera Critters is hosted by the lovely Misty Dawn.

Laptoptrouble!

Yesterday my laptop and I had some arguments. It was nearly transformed to a streettop, but common sense and a great doses of self-restraint kept me from throwing it through the window. Actually it's not the laptop's fault. It has issues with the internet connection. We have a wireless internet thingy, but due to the strange lay-out of our house, the connection isn't great everywhere. That is an understatement. In lots of places in our house internet connection is non-existent. No internet, nada, noppes, nothing! In some places there is a connection, but not always. Bit of a gamble. Will the blue ball appear on the bottom of my screen, indicating that we have lift-off? Or will it not. Oh, what an exciting life I lead. The best chance of the blue ball appearing, I have in the Office, where the mothership of the wireless connection is housed, but I don't like sitting there. That's hubs's territory and he isn't there very often, always off to his clients. And I don't like sitting there alone. I like being at home, surrounded by the dogs, cats and bathroompeople. I'm getting quite attached to the bathroompeople. Maybe I will even miss them when the bathroom is ready. Or maybe not. A good chance of my laptop connecting to the internet I have at the desk in the Great Hall, which is also my 'office', but Great Hall sounds better don't you think? But the Great Hall has been taken over by the bathroompeople. It's not mine anymore. So I moved to the livingroom. The diningroomtable proved to be a good place for the blue ball to appear. If my laptop is placed precisely in this corner and at that angle, internet connection is almost always present. Almost always. Somewhere in the neighbourhood (some of you write neighbor and some write neighbour. Is that a British/American/Australian thing?) someone has a wireless internet thingy with another provider. And their signal is stronger than ours (sure it is, why should we have chosen the best provider for once?). So if they log on, my laptop immediately wants to go over to their provider. But it can't. Still, it desperately wants to. So, it disconnects from our wireless thingy and keeps trying to connect to the other one. And I don't know how to stop that. Let me tell you, it's frustrating as.....something that is VERY frustrating! Today it's okay. I can see the blue ball all the time. I'm happy today. The neighbours are not internetting today I guess. Yesterday really was a terrible day at the internetfront. And every time I'd typed a very interesting and funny and intelligent comment to someone else's post and hit the 'publish' or 'submit'-button, PLOP! the box telling me there wasn't an internet connection anymore popped up and the blue ball became a red cross! Every time! Clever comment gone! Anyway, just to let you know that I really tried to visit everybody who posted something yesterday that I knew of, and I tried to comment, but that is why lots of you missed my very entertaining (or not as the case may be) visits. Sorry!

True Colours Thursday - Brown

Today is a Brown Thursday.

From left to right: the New College dining room, Oxford - the most wonderful horse in the world, Naloma - Birdapartment for rent, needs some TLC.

True Colour Thursday is hosted by Blue.

Click the link for more Brown Thursdays or join in the fun and post your own.

F is For Frost

ABC Wednesday is hosted by Mrs. Nesbitt over here.

It's a great meme. Visit her place for more entries or join in the fun and post your own.

Seriously!

Since I found out that I'm a Doris (you can read about that here if you want to) life has become so much easier. Well, not really. That would be silly, if only. If only it would be so simple. But it would have been much easier if my 'followers' and fellow bloggers had payed more attention to the 'Doris-rules'. Let me remind you that what makes being a Doris fun is: * being able to relate easily to people and to make friends (true) * knowing what people need and being able to make their lives better (gosh, I wish that was true) * being generous, caring, and warm (obviously true) * being sensitive to and perceptive about others' feelings (far too true) * being enthusiastic and fun-loving, and having a good sense of humor (very true, hahaha) But I would like to focus on the points that make being a Doris difficult. Well, I would not LIKE to focus on that. It's just.....that's what I do and what makes me me. Apparently. * not being able to say no (I've learned to say no over the years, fortunately, although I don't say it often enough, but I'm working on that) * having low self-esteem (that is SO true, very important thing to know about me!) * feeling drained from overdoing for others (sometimes, but since I learned to say no I don't do so much for others anymore, which makes me feel guilty) * not doing things I really like to do for myself for fear of being selfish (true, and if I do, I feel guilty'. Oh, and about 'the fear of being selfish': if I use the word 'I' more than, let's say....three times in one post or in a comment to someone else's post, I feel guilty. Clearly I feel guilty all the time! For I use the word I far too often. As if the world revolves around me. I know it doesn't. But I can't stop using 'I'. And that makes me (another word that makes me feel guilty) feel....uhm, how can I say this without hurting anyone's feelings...uhm, crap! Sorry.) * criticizing myself for not feeling as loving as I think I should (always criticizing myself for everything really) * being upset that others don't tune in to me as much as I tume in to them (well, I can't help that, that's YOUR fault) * working so hard to be tactful and considerate that I suppress my real feelings (I'm working on that, see the previous point, and I'm really sorry that I said it was YOUR fault) This being all clear to you now, I hope, I have to explain to you why I'm writing this post (feeling very guilty about all the I's! So sorry!). I've noticed that my 'followers'-list is fluctuating. A 'follower' means acknowledgement. And to me acknowledgement is VERY IMPORTANT! And if a 'follower' stops following I feel that I have let him or her down in some way. Why else would they leave me? Have I upset him/her? What did I do? Did I do something wrong? Have I not paid enough attention to his/her needs? Why oh why did they stop following my blog? And then if someone joins the list I'm ever so happy again! Is it just me? Do you feel the same? Or do you never lose a 'follower'? (Gawd, (see? I don't even use the word God because I don't want to upset people) if that is true that would make me feel even worse.) How do you cope with rejection? (if ever you are) (Sorry about all the 'I's' and 'me's'. Please don't leave me!)

Monochrome Monday, my first

Although this isn't a black & white photo, it is. Isn't it?

It's my first post for Monochrome Monday. Hope to make many more.

(If I'm not excluded from taking part, because this is not really a b&w photo.)

Monochrome Monday is being hosted by Monochrome Maniac, Aileni.

Bach one?

played by Mischa Maisky (or Maiski) the Camera Critters post is below this one or Bach two? played by Yo-Yo Ma Which one do you like best?

This post was inspired by Rhymeswithplague.

In vain

Camera Critters #46

Last year we adopted 4 young cats and when they entered our home, mid-summer 2008, little Mozes immediately adopted Phoebe, our 12-year old labrador. "Mommy!", he thought, although she doesn't look like his mommy, but Mozes looked at the colour of his own fur, compared that to the colour of our dogs, and decided there and then: "I must be one of them!" And Mozes proved to be a thirsty little boy. And Phoebe proved to be a very patient, sweet dog.

But we already knew that.

So Mozes suckled, making all the right noises. All in vain.

He still does!

Camera Critters is hosted by Misty Dawn. If you want to see all the other critters, take a look here. Or join in the fun and post your own.

Surprise!

When the old tiles were removed from the wall and part of the plaster spontaneously came off too, we made an Amááázin' Discovery!

There used to be a door in that wall! Yes, I know! You are just as surprised as we were! In truth you are probably thinking: "Is this it? Did she wake us up for thát?" Yes. I did. But don't forget what I had to do just to show you this glimpse from the past. And I also hit my toe on the way to my uploadingequipment, which had a weird effect on my limbo dance I can tell you!

See how much you mean to me?

And if you are wondering what that round thing is, that's going to be the tap. Yes. Weird looking contraption isn't it?

Getting what you want.....

....is not nearly as important as giving what you have. Did I mention I'm a stress-eater? Well, I am. If I'm stressed (or 'stretched' as my mother says, because she doesn't speak English and still she's right if you think about it. Another example of my mother's English: my parents live in an appartment and the front door to the building is made of glass. The whole door! And after a birthday party one of the guests, I don't know if he had one too many, tried to walk through that door without opening it. When my mother told me the story over the phone, she said: "Hij zat helemaal Disney op de trap." He was so Disney, he had to sit on the stairs. 'Stressed' and 'dizzy' are words that are frequently used in the Dutch language. We borrow words from all kind of languages actually. Don't ask me for examples, can't think of any other examples now. Oh yes, 'trottoir' for instance! A common Dutch (or French) word. But that wasn't what I wanted to talk to you about today.) I eat! You know they are renovating our bathroom don't you? And that we have to limbo dance to get to the downstairs toilet (oh, that's another borrowed common word in the Dutch language too) because of all the rubbish, I mean equipment, the bathroompeople store in our Great Hall (that's what we call it because we have A) no idea what else to call that room and B) we have 'attitude' ). Well, my desk is in the Great Hall too. So we could of course call it the study, but somehow that doesn't fit the Great Hall. Or our attitude. Up to last weekend I could easily limbo dance my way to my desk. But after that weekend (in which we had the birthday parties for 5 people all in one party in our house, which was the idea of my mother and sister), for some reason I'm restricted in my limbo dance movement. I now bump into things on my limbo way. So...I don't know if it is because the bathroompeople stored some more stuff there or because of all the chocolate and crisps I've been gobbling down in a couple of 'stretched' out moments. It's probably the first option. Yep. I'm quite sure. I think. Most probably. I use one of the toilets upstairs (we have 4 toilets in total in our house, and STILL people can't find one) so as far as that need goes I'm okay, but my camera and the uploadingthing for uploading photos onto my computer are on my desk. And I need them to upload the very interesting photos of the very interesting discovery they made while dismantling our bathroom. Trying to get to my desk leaves me covered in bruises so it's a choice I have to make. Will I keep you in suspense now or will I sacrifice my unblemished (haha) body and limbo over to the desk to get the uploadingequipment. Hmm. You will find out soon how much you mean to me ;-)

BLUES

A couple of years ago I did a summer course in art history at the University of Oxford. Trinity College to be specific. Had a really nice time there. Thinking back, I get a little bit of the BLUES.

As you may well know, rowing is an important sport at Oxford University.

A Bumps Race is a rowing race taking place over several days in which crews start lined up along the river at set intervals, and all start at the same time. The aim is to catch up with the boat in front, and avoid being caught by the boat behind. If a crew overtakes or makes physical contact with the crew ahead, a bump is awarded.

The starting order of each day's competition is based on the previous day's results. Any boat that has been bumped starts behind the boat or boats that caught it, whereas a boat which reaches the finish line without either bumping or being bumped is said to have 'rowed over' and stays in the same position.

The objective is to gradually progress up the start order day by day by bumping. Typically the first day's starting position is based on the final positions from the previous year, though in lower divisions the boats may be placed according to qualifying races held a few days before the event. (This allows colleges to introduce new crews, hoping that they will move up into the fixed divisions.)

The ultimate achievement in these competitions is to bump up a place (or more) on each of the four days; a crew achieving this is said to have won its 'blades'. Traditionally members of such a crew purchase a rowing oar in the crew colours and inscribed with the crew names to hang on their wall, though today some purchase a miniature replica for reasons of practicality. 'Blades' are also awarded to the crew that finishes first in the overall order; such a crew is said to be 'Head of the River'. Crews that go down four places are awarded the wooden spoon, and the bottom crew at the end of the competition is known as the 'Tail of the River'. See for more information http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bumps_race

Trinity College crews proudly display their blades by painting them on the college walls. The paintings fade over the years until they disappear.

True Colors Thursday's meme is hosted at Poopsie's place.

Today's color is BLUE.

I'm happy! I'm a Doris!

(Looking for the ABC Wednesday entry? Please scroll down. It's the next post.)

Did this test (only two questions, figured I could manage that much) and oh imagine my surprise when the result appeared! I'm a Doris. I'm happy. Who wouldn't be? (You can always do the test and see what you are.) The Doris-description fits me like a glove. Have to let hubs read it. He doesn't know me well enough, or just forgets sometimes.

You are a Doris -- "I must help others."

Dorises are warm, concerned, nurturing, and sensitive to other people's needs.

How to Get Along with Me

• * Tell me that you appreciate me. Be specific.
• * Share fun times with me.
• * Take an interest in my problems, though I will probably try to focus on yours.
• * Let me know that I am important and special to you.
• * Be gentle if you decide to criticize me.

In Intimate Relationships

• * Reassure me that I am interesting to you.
• * Reassure me often that you love me.
• * Tell me I'm attractive and that you're glad to be seen with me.

What I Like About Being a Doris

• * being able to relate easily to people and to make friends
• * knowing what people need and being able to make their lives better
• * being generous, caring, and warm
• * being sensitive to and perceptive about others' feelings
• * being enthusiastic and fun-loving, and having a good sense of humor

What's Hard About Being a Doris

• * not being able to say no
• * having low self-esteem
• * feeling drained from overdoing for others
• * not doing things I really like to do for myself for fear of being selfish
• * criticizing myself for not feeling as loving as I think I should
• * being upset that others don't tune in to me as much as I tume in to them
• * working so hard to be tactful and considerate that I suppress my real feelings

Dorises as Children Often

• * are very sensitive to disapproval and criticism
• * try hard to please their parents by being helpful and understanding
• * are outwardly compliant
• * are popular or try to be popular with other children
• * act coy, precocious, or dramatic in order to get attention
• * are clowns and jokers (the more extroverted Dorises), or quiet and shy (the more introverted Dorises)

Dorises as Parents

• * are good listeners, love their children unconditionally, and are warm and encouraging (or suffer guilt if they aren't)
• * are often playful with their children
• * wonder: "Am I doing it right?" "Am I giving enough?" "Have I caused irreparable damage?"
• * can become fiercely protective

Take Are You a Jackie or a Marilyn? Or Someone Else? Mad Men-era Female Icon Quiz at HelloQuizzy

E....... is for KWPN (huh? that can't be right?!)

ABC Wednesday round 4: E (for more ABC Wednesday entries click the link or just join in the fun and post your own) I would like to set you, fellow blogger, a challenge. Let me explain: Many of you know that my horse Naloma is expecting a foal that will be born in April (I can hardly sleep now, fingers crossed that everything will be allright). Naloma comes from....uhm, we call it a 'stam', perhaps it translates into 'stem'?, meaning part of a family tree, that is called the Loma-stem (if you click the link, it will take you to a list of famous horses from this stem). All mares born in that family have a name that ends with 'loma'. Naloma's mother is called Aloma, her grandmother is called Eloma and so on. She's also a KWPN-horse (KWPN = Royal Warmblood Studbook of the Netherlands) so she is listed in the KWPN-studbook. A KWPN-horse has to have a name that begins with a letter that is attached to the year in which it was born. This year is (and there it is, finally, the ABC Wednesday-letter of this week) the E-year. So the name of Naloma's foal must begin with E. If it is a mare, we would like the name to end with 'loma' or preferably with 'naloma'. Eloma is too simple and besides, her grandmother is called Eloma too. So that is not an option. If it is a stallion, we can call it any name we like, as long as it is 'clean' (you know what I mean) and starts with E. Since you are all very intelligent and creative and lovely people I would like to set you a challenge. CAN YOU COME UP WITH A NAME FOR OUR FOAL? Maybe you can leave your suggestion in the comment section? We even will think of a nice thank-you-gift if we actually use the name you suggested. If you need more inspiring information (or maybe this just makes it more difficult): The foal's daddy is called Whitesnake. - Whitesnake's father: Cavalier - Whitesnake's mother: Moglichkeit and hér father is called Corofino. - Naloma's father: Laurin Holstein, he lives in the USA under the name Sandstones Laurin (click the link and read his wonderful story, he is a very special horse!) - Naloma's mother: Aloma, hér father is a very famous thoroughbred called Lucky Boy. Good luck! I am really curious to see what names you come up with (hopefully).

How to hang a chandelier.....

You lovely readers of my blog clearly enjoy reading about our house and the effort it takes (and took) to make it into our home. So I thought I'd publish my first publication for this Brinkbeestinenglish-blog again. I still think it's a funny story and most of you have probably missed it. How to hang a chandelier We finally found the light. We had been searching for years and suddenly there it was. You always find things when you give up looking for them. Well maybe not always. Often though. It was hanging over a dining table in a shop where we were looking for pillows for our garden furniture (which is also a good story, maybe later) and was exactly the modern chandelier that we wanted for our librabry. Which sounds very posh, but really isn't. No really. Anyway, this room with bookcases has a ceilingheight of about 4,50 meters. And in this room a winding staircase leads to a landing that is open on two sides. You can look down into our library on one side and on the other side you can look down into our entrance hall. Can you picture it? There probably is a better way of describing it, but I can't think of it so this will have to do. Maybe all becomes clear(er). This very hip chandelier was going to be our light in the darkness of our library. We went to our favorite supplier of exciting devices and machinery and rented scaffolding. I suffer from a mild case of vertigo, so you will never find me up there, but hubs doesn't mind. Or so he says. After two glasses of wine, to build up his courage, although he denies that of course, we went upstairs and put the kitchensteps on the landing so that he could climb over the balustrade onto the scaffolding, defying death in doing so. A little bit weak in the knees I was holding the kitchensteps steady. "Oh well", hubs said, "the most difficult thing of this whole operation is probably inserting the 48 halogen lights." By the way, hubs has the necessary certificates for working with electric stuff (although he took these exams a long, long and even longer time ago). So we can assume that he knows what he is doing. Or can we? In all the DIY-programmes you are instructed to take out the fuses, but hubs almost never does that. "If the lights are out, there is no current." So I was under strict instructions: "Hold the kitchensteps steady and don't lean against the lightswitches." "Are you not scared at this height on top of the scaffolding?", I asked. "Not at all", said hubs. "Don't worry. My head is firmly jammed against the ceiling." "So there will be a greasy stain next to our beautiful chandelier", I mentioned, always the practical one. Which comment was not received very well. As I explained (or tried to); from the landing you can see the library on one side and the entrance hall on the other side. It was late in the afternoon, getting dark, so hubs switched on the lights in the entrance hall in order to see what he was doing. These lights are on another switch, so that he could do that safely. He said. Good idea by the way, to install a light when it is allready getting dark, but hubs does not appreciate remarks like that at such moments. While I was admiring hubs's courage and technical ability, the lights in the hall started flickering. I mentioned that to him. "Not interested!", he replied, strenuously trying to do something difficult with wires and electricity whilst standing in the twilight on top of unstable scaffolding and therefore not very interested in light conversation. Until he cut through a wire and suddenly all the lights went out. Very surprised hubs stood on top of the scaffolding. "I told you that the lights were flickering!", I said a bit upset. "And I did not touch the lightswitches!" "Well, now I have to take out the fuses", hubs grumbled and defied death again, climbing onto the landing. During the renovation of our home extra wooden supports were put into the ceiling because we already knew we wanted some sort of big chandelier. But that was two years ago. We knew where these supports were then, but now...... Well, we had to guess. It was a heavy lightfitting with a transformer which had to be suspended from four chains hanging from four hooks in the ceiling. Hubs screwed the first hook into the ceiling, guessing where a wooden support should be, and went on to screw the other three into the ceiling. Looked good! He attached the chains and the transformer to these four hooks. Still looked good! And while we were admiring his handywork so far, hook nr. 1 fell out of the ceiling. So the next day we had to go and buy special screwplugthings (I'm sorry, really don't know the correct word) for plasterboard. And hubs, fortunately well insured, had to be brave again and with my mental support he finally succeeded in hanging our beautiful chandelier in the library. Wow! It really looked good. We took down the scaffolding and made a cup of coffee. The doorbell rang. It was a very good friend of ours with a good nose for coffee I think. We proudly showed our new acquisition. "Wow", she admired it. "Beautiful. But I think it is a bit high up. It should be hanging a bit lower." She was right. So hubs sighed deeply, put up the scaffolding again........ This was over a year ago and the chandelier is still hanging, somewhat lower, proudly in our library. We can see what we read!

Lost

In a couple of my recent posts I mentioned our house. All the mess created by the bathroom make-over brought this on I think. As you might know by now (and if you don't and want to know, see this post and this post) we bought our house about 10 years ago. When we were looking for a house with officespace we contacted a couple of estate agents if they knew of a house for sale in this particular area with the space we needed. One of them sent us a brochure with a picture on the front of a small farmhouse. We frowned. Had we not made ourselves clear? We needed livingspace and a lot of space for the offices. This house could never have so much room. We opened the brochure and found a floorplan. It listed 23 rooms! We kept turning the page, back to the photo on the front and then back to the floorplan. How the he.. did they fit 23 rooms in this tiny little farmhouse? So we made an appointment to see this weird place and the rest is history. A lot had to be done to make it livable. Oh, by the way, some of these 23 rooms were slightly overrated. A small hallway between two rooms was also 'a room' according to the estate agent, which we found a bit of an exaggeration. And the toilet...also a room. The total building had two toilets, three of those small hallways, a big closet (yes, you've guessed it: another 'room'). Although when we started counting the rooms, we did not even nearly reach 23, it was a small maze. We left the building/installing of the kitchen and the bathroom to 'the professionals'. The kitchenpeople were, the bathroombastards unfortunately not, hence the need for a new bathroom. We did a lot of the other work that was needed ourselves, with the help of my parents, who were aged 75 (my dad) and 68 (my mum, well obviously) at that time, so it was doubly great of them to do so much work. My mum is great in cleaning (I don't take after her), my dad loves to paint. My mum had never painted anything before, but she dressed up in white overalls, boots, gloves and a baseballcap and really attacked the ceilings with a paintroller. It was a scary sight. Every time she caught a glimpse in a window, she would frighten herself. One day, hubs needed some sort of tool, I don't know what it was anymore, that he had left somewere in wat was going to be our office. My father went on a mission to get it. It took ages for him to return. Just when we were thinking of organizing a search, he appeared with a bright smile on his face. "You know", he laughed, "I just found the garage again. Couldn't remember where it was anymore. Knew there was a garage somewhere. Went through a couple of wrong doors and found it! Ha!" My mother shook her head, I laughed with my father and hubs wondered where his much needed tool was. "Tool!", my father said. "Yes, well, that's the thing, found the garage, couldn't find the office anymore!" No, it wasn't a case of dementia. Lots of people get lost in our house. We often jokingly offer a survival kit to fresh guests if they ask us where the toilet is, just in case they get lost and hungry. Although after the last renovation a couple of years ago when we (intentionally) lost a couple of staircases and gained a flat roof, things have gotten slightly better. It's only occasionally that we find a confused guest in the library when he/she actually wanted to go to the toilet. And no.....our guests are usually very well behaved and don't pee in a bookcase. We allways blame the cats for that. I wrote the above post last Friday and, just to prove it, yesterday we had a party in our house and my aunt at one point entered the livingroom: "Can someone please tell me where the toilet is, can't find it anymore!"

Featuring.......Lapje !!!!!!!!!!!

tadaadadaada..... Me.....

.....and my shaaaadow.....todoodoodoodo

See for more Camera Critters their blog, hosted by Misty Dawn.

Or join in the fun and post your own.

Be A Tree

When we bought the house, 10 years ago, it wasn't really a house. It was originally built in 1903 as a smallholding, existing of a small farmhouse with a barn in which the family kept a couple of cows and a pig. After that it had lots of different uses until it was bought by a painter/decorator who attached two barns to the existing barn and used the house as his office (he actually lived in the neighboring house). The barns were used for storage. The painter at one night parked his car against a tree and did not survive that. The company did not survive the accident either and the house and barns were sold. It was bought by people who loved art and gardens. They turned the fields behind the barns into a beautiful garden that they opened to the public, the barns were turned into a modern art gallery and they turned the office back into a house. Then they designed their dreamhouse and bought a plot of land in our village to build it. And they went to live there. This was about 11 years ago. The house, barns and the garden were put up for sale, but nobody wanted it because of its strange lay-out and the huge garden. So it stayed empty for a year. At that time we were looking for a place where we would have enough office space for both our businesses and good living space for us and our dogs and cats. We sort of stumbled upon this house with its barns and glorious garden. And we could see the possibilities. The actual house was ideal for an office and we could turn the barns/gallery into our home (I never said we were logical people, did I?). Well to make a long story just a bit longer: we needed a bathroom. We went from showroom to showroom until we found a place where they had the ingredients we liked for our bathroom. They could install it too, the nice salesman said. And so they did. And then the bastards went bankrupt. And about two, maybe three years later the tiles started cracking, the whirlpool bath stopped whirling, the underfloor heating went cold and the whole bathroom started to look exceedingly miserable. And so did we. That the whirlpool did not whirl anymore and the heating did not heat anymore, well, we could live with that. Of course we expected all those things to last us for at least 10 years when we bought them, but shit happens. The cracks in the tiles however allowed water seeping through to the walls behind, causing more tiles to crack and then the paint on the other side of the walls started flaking. So, before the whole house actually fell down, we decided that we would gather all our courage to go shopping for a new bathroom. We found another nice showroom with nice people who seem to be very competent in what they do and they designed a nice new bathroom and are currently installing it. Fingers crossed! Last friday they started the work. The tiles that were delivered were the wrong tiles. That was soon corrected and last tuesday the right tiles were delivered. The shower will be separated from the rest of the bathroom by a wall. The blocks that were delivered to build that wall, were the wrong blocks. They were exchanged for the right blocks. The right blocks actually also were wrong. They will have to be exchanged too. But the rest seems to go smoothly and according to plan. We'll see. Apparently they will need a month (!!) to finish the work. I'm still feeling quite relaxed. The house is back to it's old use again: storage. We have to limbo dance to the downstairs loo because the access is blocked by a huge bath, boxes with tiles, wood, plasterboard, paint, mirrors, boxes with lighting and what else is needed to build a bathroom. And my mother and sister decided to celebrate all the upcoming birthdays (5 in 3 weeks) in one go and in our house. Because of all our animals it's quite difficult for us to go away for longer than about 4 hours. "So we'll all go to them for the party", they thought. Not a bad thought from their point of view. But with the house already in a big mess and layers of cementdust everywhere....pfffff. I will have to be a tree (tip from my sister, Be A Tree). By the time the bathroomguys are finished I will probably be A Forest.

D is for Dressage

D could have also been for Dogs, as our home and yard is full of animals, but our Dogs and cats get enough attention in the Camera Critters meme. So no D for Dogs. D is for Dressage, since we also have horses. And Dressage is 'my thing'. Now, I can tell you the history of Dressage, the various Dressage exercises, the Dressage training, the difficulty and the importance of Dressage, but if you are interested in that I would like to refer you to Wikipedia. For me Dressage is a way to exercise and improve myself and my horse. It is very difficult to explain to people who don't ride what a great feeling it is to be at one with your horse and to notice that his/her movement and musculature, not to mention your own riding abilities and musculature, improve. And, even more important, that your horse is actually happy in doing all these exercises. See, don't get me started on the subject of horses. I'm quite passionate about that. Ah well, I will no longer bore you. If you like, watch the video of the Dutch Dressage Queen Anky van Grunsven. She makes it all seem very easy. I can assure you: IT IS NOT This is me, doing some Dressage exercises with hubs' horse Willem Lafleur (my own horse is expecting a foal this April, she's far too pregnant to be riding her).

And this is my precious Naloma.

Visit ABC Wednesday for more D's or join in the fun and post your own.

To see or not to see?

About eight years ago, at about 11 o'clock at night, I was taking the dogs around the garden for a walk. It was a beautiful, warm summer's or summers or summer night, no clouds, lots of stars, so I stopped and stared for a while at this wonderful sky. Suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, I saw something moving high up in the sky. I turned my head and tried to find the movement again. There it was. Three stars turned around each other, in sort of figures of eight and then circles and then whoosh....went away from each other at great speed, coming back again and turning these figures around each other again. These could not be stars. Stars did not move like that. But I could not believe they were planes either. Planes tend to move from A to B, without doing circuslike tricks in the middle of the night. And they moved to fast to be planes. I had never seen something like it. Could it be that I actually witnessed some UFO-action? After a while my neck began to hurt, so I stopped staring, called the dogs and walked home. "Would you believe me", I asked hubs, "if I told you I just saw some UFO's?" Hubs frowned, smiled and shook his head. "UFO's? No." So, that was that. Occasionally I will tell someone that I think I've seen UFO's, I mean I know they were UFO's to me, because they were Unidentified Flying Objects. But were they of the extraterrestrial kind? No, that's hard to believe. Or is it? Is it not just a tiny bit arrogant of us people to think that we are the only ones in the entire universe? I've heard that the universe is BIG. Could there not be a planet somewhere....? Well, I don't know. Anyway. A couple of weeks ago our farrier was here. A very down to earth guy. I don't know anymore how we came to talk about this, but I mentioned that I had seen UFO's (hahaha) about 8 years ago and pointed towards the direction I had seen them in. He stopped what he was doing, his eyes went a bit bigger: "How long ago was this?" "About 8 years ago", I said. "What time?" "About 11 o'clock at night." "I've seen them too. There were three of them. Very high up in the sky, moving at great speed and turning circles around each other." I was stunned. So was he. "I've told some people immediately afterwards, but they said I had probably seen the laserlights of a club in that area. But I thought they were far too high up in the sky and they didn't seem like lasers to me", he said. "No, can't believe that either. Then you would have seen the beam too I think", I agreed. "I've seen laserlights from other clubs, but these looked very different. And I have never seen them again. Would they not be there every night, or at least in the weekends?" "We will never know", the farrier said. "No, probably not." After that conversation I went on the internet to try and find out if there was any information about UFO's in our area and if someone else had maybe seen the ones we had seen. Turns out that there are lots of sightings near our house, but in the opposite direction from where we had seen 'our' UFO's. There even is a UFO-informationpoint in a village nearby. That gave me the giggles actually. I immediately imagined a guy in his forties, still living with his mother, wearing a big-patterned-sweater she lovingly knitted, big heavy glasses, sitting in his bedroom, orange/brown striped seventies curtains, single bed, ET-posters on the wall, anxiously waiting by the telephone to enter all UFO-sightings in his computerdatabase. Ah well, you know the type. Maybe you even are the type and I hasten to say there is probably nothing wrong with you. I wonder, have you seen something unexplainable in the sky? Have you ever seen a UFO? Extraterrestrial or not? (update: I added some pictures I found on the internet, just for fun)

Aaaaaahhhwwwwwake

"Don't worry Petje, you can take a nap, I will watch over you. You'll be safe in my paws."

"Must stay awake, must stay awake, must stay .....

".....aaaaaahhhhhhwwwwake."

"You can take a nap now Biggles, it's my turn to watch over you."

Did you just yawn too?

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I apologize to men in advance, maybe only women should read this post.

I hate people who design packaging! Really. For instance, he who invented blister packaging (it can't be a 'she' for obvious reasons. Not obvious to you Male Reader? Well let me explain: women are practical beings. Whenever they invent, design or produce something, they will immediately think: "Will this work? How will this work? Is this a practical solution? Is it easy to use/access?" A male architect for instance will design a beautiful window with a staircase placed just in front of it. "Looks good", he thinks. "We'll do that!" A female architect will design that and think: "Ah, it looks good, but is it practical? Can someone clean that window or do these stairs perhaps prevent someone from being able to actually touch that window?" Clearly a male architect designed the house we used to live in before this one. The house we live in now used to be a painter's workshop/warehouse. I don't mean an artist painter. I mean a painter that paints walls, ceilings (not like Michelangelo) or window-frames. Therefore a lot had to be done to make it into a home. Kitchen, bathroom, bedrooms, the whole kit and caboodle - if I use that correctly - had to be done. The architect (male) thought that the best solution would be a flat roof, oh I so wish I did not start to tell this story because I feel I have to explain to you the whole lay-out of the house, which is rather difficult, suffice to say for now that the building used to have three pitched roofs, well actually four, which meant four staircases to four attics, so the architect said that the best solution would be to join two of the pitched roofs and put a flat roof in it's place. We agreed that that would be the best solution. Ah, I believe I have an illustrative picture somewhere. Not the best picture, no flat roof to be seen, but you can see how the roofline used to be. The architectural planning department (all men) decided that the old roofline should be kept visible and that therefore the 'gap' should be filled with windows. Or we could forget the flat roof. So, windows it was. Curtains? Anyone thought of that? How on earth.....? So, no curtains in the bedroom. No one has been able to think of a good enough solution that will actually look the part too. All the men involved shrugged their shoulders, frowned and ignored my remarks that I didn't think this window-idea was the best solution. Ah well, what's done is done. There are worse things than no curtains in the bedroom. And I don't have to sleep there. It's a guestroom. And the neighbours have not yet complained. Neither have the guests. Well.....if they would complain I would subtly lead them towards the door. Anyway, where was I? Ah yes, he who invented blister packaging) should be forced to go to all the people all over the world that have bought something in a blister package and open it for them. Without using scissors, knifes or other tools that might come in handy but are really dangerous to use in these instances! Actually, on second thoughts, he should be forced to use a sharp knife! And I also hate the people (well, according to my own theory we can safely assume that they are men too) who decided that to pack a piece of cheese in vacuum sealed plastic was a good idea! They are probably the same people who invented the 'drink carton with the plastic bottle-cap' (tetrapak). If you pour a glass of orange juice for instance, half of it ends up around the glas, not IN it. I know, one should not use gross generalisations like I have just yet. Years of frustration forced me. Sorry. I wonder, do any of you have problems with packaging? Or other daily frustrations you would like to share? It helps to write about it. I feel much better now. (And I really do not hate men! Actually, quite the opposite ;-)) Update: this post was nominated for Post of the Day, see Authorblog.

Not that we don't have one.

We even have two dog beds! Yes we do! A red one and a very big black one. But........

Lapje asleep

The cats lie on the dog bed, the dogs lie on the couch and we lie on the floor. It's just the way it is. And when they are cold they snuggle up in front of the fireplace. They have it made!

Biggles and Snoes were cold.

At the risk of you calling the Dierenbescherming or RSPCA or whatever Animal Rights organisation, I have to tell you that I like the Bigglesballs. And so does he, because he displays them proudly every chance he gets. I like them because they dangle so happily between his legs when he walks in front of me, 'dingle dangle dingle dangle'. It's all very innocent, let me assure you. It's just a happy sight.

It is not that strange that I like the Bigglesballs actually. The famous Dutch biologist/writer Midas Dekkers, once wrote: 'Male tigers have the most beautiful balls of all animals. They seem so very soft, full of woolly hair. Zoovisitors often watch them eagerly. It must be a delightful experience to wiggle your head between those warm soft pumpkins.'

Well, I wouldn't go that far with the Bigglesballs. They are not thát attractive to me. Maybe they are just too shiny?

C is for ComiCal Car aCCident

Actually my intentions were to only post photos or what-have-you's especially made or written by me for this ABC Wednesday meme. Many C's entered my mind (chocolate, candy, crisps, chips, cake........do you see a pattern?) and left again through a backdoor with a sign above it: NOT GOOD/FUNNY/ORIGINAL ENOUGH. And then I thought of this. I've known it for years and still hearing it makes me laugh and laugh and laugh. So now I'm breaking my own rules and we are only at C *sigh*. Turn up the volume a little, it is a voicemail recording of someone who witnesses a minor Car aCCident, no one was hurt....although, .......well...you have to hear it, it is hilarious!

Voice mail message www.boreme.com/boreme/funny-2005/voicemail-p1.php?emf=1

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Champagne again! Partytime!!!!!

The 20th 'follower' just joined the 19 other weird but lovely people (or cats or dogs as the case may be). Although I am not quite sure what to make of 'follower' no. 19 to be honest. Hmmm. But hey, 20 followers means: PARTY (since my blog is becoming increasingly popular and life is getting more expensive by the day we will party again if the 'followers'counter reaches 50). Enjoy! I suggest some Seasick Steve music and a beer or champagne or whatever you like!

My first AWARD!

(Since this is my first award you must forgive me if I do something wrong.) First I'd like to thank Suldog for passing this truly magnificent creature to me. His description of this.....uhm.....thing is unsurpassable so I will not even try to describe the true wonders of this beautiful award. Please see Suldog's blog for that and have a good laugh! The only reason he presented me with this award is that he felt safe doing it since there is an ocean between us. Unfortunately for him I can swim. Fortunately for him I choose to see it as an acknowledgement and I'm very proud that at least one person other than myself likes my style! The words at the bottom of the award are true, although I personally would have left the 'God' and 'Corinthian' bit out. So....I would like to pass this award to my 18 followers because I like their style, but will only choose three for now. Undoubtedly more awards will come my way (ahum) and then I will burden some of the others with this bloggerawardthing 'we bloggers' apparantly do.

1. Dughallmor Beagles, because I like their style and they tried to tag me yesterday and were kind enough to leave an award for everyone to pick up at their blog. I refused both and my way of saying sorry is choosing them as my first award-receivers!
2. Cecilia, because I like her style and because she dressed up her poor dog as an alligator. For that she should be punished, I mean, AWARDED!
3. Barb a.k.a. Skittles, because I like her style and the pink colours match the top of her blog! And because she is not yet one of my 'followers' I hope this will act as a bribe too!

Well my lovely awardees, I hope you will cherish this....uhm....thing with all the love it deserves. And I believe you have to pass it on to at least three others.