Here I am, at the end of the year. That year. 

I sit on my black chair. It started squeaking around midsummer.  
My butt never leaves the chair since October. Not even when I leave the room.
Me and my favourite chair, our relationship became tense in December. We simply spent too many hours together.

I’m waiting to be admitted to my friends’ room.
While waiting I touch my cheek. Rub it softly. 
A bleak compensation for all the missed kisses.

I’m admitted. I see a face. A rectangular cut out of a familiar space.
I dressed up for the occasion. I put on my bright green blouse.
My friend can’t see the sweat pants I’ve been wearing since March. Nor smell it.

We chat for a bit and I feel surprisingly happy.
We reminisce about the places we once travelled.
We agree we don’t miss the airport drill, but wouldn’t mind for the metro to drive us through London.

Oh, London. Where are you now? Where are you now?

My friend starts crying. I reach for a hand. I grab a cold white mouse instead.
After a while we exchange a last wave and before I know it I’m staring at my cluttered desk again.

The screen turns black and I see my silhouette reflected.
Here I am. Still. At the end of the year. That year.

The year that was a first act in this improv theater.
I acted content, frustrated, hopeful, fearful, insightful, glad and sad
in this biggest theater, on the smallest stage with the biggest invisible actor of this century.

I hope.

I revive the screen. I open a new window to the world.
A world preparing behind the curtains for the second act.
Who knows how long the second act will be?

To jab or not to jab, that is the question.

I close the world and turn around in my beloved chair. 
I turn off the lights and while I descent into my smallest, biggest life I realize something: 

I’m OK
I’m OK
I’m OK
I’m OK

P.S. : shake 2020 off Swiftly.

Door |2020-12-31T15:20:48+02:0031 december 2020|366, flow|0 Reacties

Letters (363)

One of Daughter’s new books, kindly gifted by Sinterklaas Grandma, includes the challenge to spot all the letters on one page that put together form a word. Daughter was up for this challenge. We both searched for the letters and Daughter wrote them down. I then spelled the correct order to form the word. Just drawing letters gets a bit boring after a while. Hence the decoration.

I was a bit surprised how easily she recognised all the letters and wrote them down. It’s not something we practiced before. So here you go. Daughter’s first words put to paper.

On to the next stage of learning language.


Door |2020-12-28T14:30:20+02:0028 december 2020|366, deze dag|0 Reacties

Tradition (361)

This is one of my family’s Christmas traditions. And that of a lot of other families in the northern provinces. Solving the Dr. Denker puzzle from Dagblad van het Noorden. Forty cryptic images around a theme. This year is the 45th edition and its theme is fishing. I asked my mother for a copy. As all newspapers were sold out, she took a picture and sent it to me so I could print it. The past few days the Man and I solved nearly half. Not a bad score as it usually takes more people to come up with associations to solve all of them. Another week left to solve the other half.


Door |2020-12-26T14:45:39+02:0026 december 2020|366, deze dag|0 Reacties
Ga naar de bovenkant