Summers day

On a warm summers day, at the end of June, a woman stepped onto the green grass of the park near her home. In her right hand, she held the miniature version of it, namely her three-year-old daughter's hand. The daughter was wearing a pink-with-white dress. The little girl was making soft sounds of laughter and delight everytime a pigeon came near and she tried to run after it. In the mother's left hand, she held a basket. A basket full of delicious food and drinks. The woman held up the basket, seemingly trying to estimate how much it weighted and sighed deeply. Looking at her face showed every random stranger that she was tired. Very tired.

For no particular reason she stopped walking after they had arrived in the middle of the field. She put down the basket, released her daughter from her grip and kicked off her sandals. They flew with amazing grace through the air and landed only a couple of feet away from a huge tree, that provided the sun-overflown public with a little bit of shadow and coolness.

The little girl had taken the unsuspected opportunity of freedom to escape her mother's authority and she had ran off to the nearest fountain. She was staring in amazement at the peculiar statue of a man and a woman hugging each other very tightly, spewing water from their mouths and hands. Sometimes the water also came from the floor and the first time when that happened the little girl had ran away in time to avoid wetting her lovely dress. She laughed a high, short laugh of happyness and clapped her small hands. And so she started to game of the fountain.

The mother called for the child, which didn't show to have heard her, she was too entertained by the water. The mother called again, this time luring her with promises of a sweet, delicious red apple and a slice of pineapple. At the sound of pineapple, the girl turned around with big eyes of excitement and ran as fast as her little legs could carry her to her mother. The mother held out her arms and the girl ran straight into them.

The little daughter told her mother proudly how she had tricked the water into believe it could touch her, but it never could, she was too clever! But mother wasn't really listening, she was staring at one of the little benches near the fountain, padding her little girl's head once, while her face turned sickly pale.



A short story with all of Dutch writer Zwagerman rules: a part of a life, unknown in who's perspective it's written, the reader can add all sorts of information into the story, abrupt ending, etc.

Ringing phones

The phone rang at the last minute. The entire hour had passed before my eyes, I had stared at the clock the entire time. The frustration and the fear I had not allowed into my head forced its way in and I was on the edge of tears.

The phone rang.

Unable to believe my ears, it took me some time to react. But then, as if I had been hit by lightening, I grabbed the receiver and said in a small voice, almost breaking due to the tears

"Hello?"

"Marit, how are you? How are you holding up in there, girl?" My mentor, the man with all the power of the world in his hands, the man who could make or break my day, the man that could send me into euphoria or devastation, was making small talk. I could barly hold myself together and answered a short reply.

"Good, thanks."

"Well, let me see. Just Math, a six*, but other than that you've done an amazing job." He was my saviour after all. I passed my exams, I would graduate, I would go to university next year. My time in high school was over.

Finally.

Six years is a hell of a long time. Six bloody years I worked my behind off for good grades, I made friends, due to some unfortuned circumstances I also lost some, I laughed, talked, ran, walked through that hallway for years and now that time finally came to an end.

Nostalgia. So far (it's been almost two weeks since the previous happened) it hasn't happened to me yet. I've been too happy, too busy to notice any kind of sadness. It did hit me with the force of a bullet that I will go to university next year. I will be a grown up next year, or at least, I have to pretend that I am. I don't think that I'll be sad when I get my diploma upcoming Thursday, I will be happy.

I GRADUATED high school!


* In the Netherlands we work with a grading scale that goes from a one to a ten. A one can be compared to the American F, and a ten can be compared to the American A. And eight or a seven is a B, if you receive a C and you still pass you exams then you can compare that grade to a six. And since I suck at Math, I was pretty happy with my C.

Into The Wild

In the middle of my studying for my exames, I still found the time to finish reading Jon Krakauer's based-on-a-reallife-story 'Into the wild'. Since the author is a journalist, his writing style is very analytic and there's barely a hint of imagination, even if he does start to speculate he always mentions it. The story is quite gripping and makes you think about the brainwaves some people seem to have. The story tells us about the last years of Chris McCandless (I think many have heard of Sean Penn's latest movie, which is based on and has the same title as this novel) and facts about his time before he became this 'strider' (going into 'Lord of the Rings'), this wanderer.

It reads like an interesting report you can read in the newspaper. Like any good journalist, Krakauer gives us the facts, and nothing but the facts. Every now and then he gives his own opinion of what happened to Chris, he even goes as far as to compare himself to McCandless. This is different from the movie. In the movie only the story of Chris is told, but in the book Krakauer gives many more examples of men (yes, funnily enough only men seemed to have felt the need to escape society and seek out the danger in nature) having done the same thing, of whom many have never returned.

The story is also filled with quotations of famous writers like Jack London, Thoreau and other novelties. Mostly because McCandless highlighted those passages. Even though most people would say McCandless was out of him mind to try to survive in the wilderness, I don't think he was mad. He had a sensible mind (I think that's safe to say, cause he reads books like Tolstoy, Thoreau and has strong opinions of government, etc. Though somewhere I think he was just very dissapointed with life and people. I think you'll see why if you read the book).

I'd suggest you'd try it. It's not much (just 200 pages), and has beautiful parts and they sometimes just nail it. All right, that made very thing just incomprehensible, but just read it.

I enjoyed it very much.

I Present: Our Garden

Months after my parents decided to 'restyle' the garden, it finally looks like something. Our garden is probably seven by eleven (meters, mind you) and almost made entirly out of stone. That used to be different, before the 'wish for room' we had more a backyard than a garden. Lots of plants, grass and little room to walk. Just two places that could barely hold a round table and six chairs, which was always difficult with the celebration of, for instance, birthdays, we had barely room to sit and the people who came over were always devided into two (sometimes even three) groups.

Since the weather is starting to be nice again - lots of sunshine - I've been outside more and I must say that I'm really starting to like our garden! So much room! And the plants in pots make it really cozy. Of course, not everything is stone, at the sides we've got some dirt with still developing flowers and other sorts of plants.

I can't wait for the summer!

Wine, Colleagues and a Fire

Work is a big part of our social lifes. Many social studies have told us that people without a job feel left out, some sort of loser, or at least acknowledge that some part of their life is missing. In the one year I've been working at a restaurant, I've never felt the need to socialize with my colleagues. They were all nice people to work with. All very kind and that opinion of them hasn't really changed.

However, tonight was one of those nights I didn't really feel the need to go home right away after work. There was no one waiting for me there and no one would be 'online' to talk to. So when one of my co-workers asked whether I'd go for a drink with the other colleagues I thought, 'what the heck, why not?!' And it turned out to be the best decision for tonight. Bottles of rosé and white wine were opened and some of the girls I work with were already quite tipsy (negative effect of alcohol on an empty stomach and a tired body). Which reasulted into giving the local McDonalds a run for their money. Everyone was simply attacking the horrid food - complaining every minute how gross the food was, but admitting that it tasted delicious cause they were so hungry.
Because we were no longer on duty, the questions asked were a lot more personal and everyone was laughing a hell of a lot harder when someone said something stupid (again, alcohol on an empty stomach) or if someone just felt the need to share a dream they'd had a couple of day ago (green hands, rings and a tiny small office with loads of paperwork). Because it was my first time to have a drink after work, with the rest of them, they all noticed it and I was, of course, a small target for interrogation. But happily for me, they started off with the wrong question and everyone else had stories to share, too, about their love life.

Tonight I've seen my co-workers in a different light, much more relaxed and that might lead to friendships. If not, I could most definitly say I had a lot of fun talking, laughing and enjoying the fire and beautiful sunset into the Noorderplassen with them. Socializing, we do it all the time and we cannot live without the companionship of others, telling us we are wanted and loved. Work is one big part of that.

Birdy bird

A magpie in a tree, probably overlooking her nest.

Sweet Little Flowers

The parks in Almere Haven are smaller and more chaotic, but very beautiful. The blossom in the trees mark the change in the weather. Finally some sunshine!