Sunday, 1 May 2016

There Has Been The Odd Sortie ...

It's been like living in a snow globe recently .  There was  a sudden wonderful burst of sunshine the other day , and I grabbed my coffee and sat on the balcony ;  whereupon the heavens opened and the hailstones bounced off my toes ... my bare toes . At this rate I'm going to have to buy fur-lined slippers . 

Well wrapped up , I have ventured out , though  . Went to a Collectors' Fair in Utrecht with Friend ,  both of us showing admirable restraint ... slightly easier for me , I feel , since I can't shoehorn one more thing into my flat , much as I'd like to . Accessories seem to be the next big thing ..



And there's been an impressive exhibition of Mayan treasures in Assen Museum  , which I have no photos of , since the off button on the new camera's flash is unfindable.

 Never mind , I found the poster for you , where it incongruously peeked out of a shop window . Assen , the museum apart , is dying on its feet ... the building of an out-of-town Shopping Center and
the closure of the department store has taken the heart out of the town . Even the tattooist ,  
Suits 4 Life    ,  has closed its doors .  It's not been helped by the town council's determination to upgrade the drains in the town center ... all at once . Next time I'm wearing waders .

Back home , a trip to the shops revealed the surprise addition of a three-story high pirate's sword in the town square .  Makes a change ...

But it's now disappeared again , perhaps swept away by marauding students over the weekend  ...  so much more impressive than a traffic cone , after all .

Fatigued  by all this excitement , yesterday  I got on a country bus and enjoyed the scenery as we wandered from village to village through endless green fields and herds of dozy cows . From Wommels to Winsum , skirting  Tzum and Lollum ;  past windmills  , barns and little churches , two or three  to every hamlet all the way to Bolsward and a book sale in its Martinikerk .


As I went in , the church's huge , empty , whitewashed arched interior with a wonderful carved pulpit

and magnificent organ ( in need of repair , hence the book sale ) , was suddenly filled with song ... incredibly Ray Charles and Willie Nelson were singing  'Seven Spanish Angels ' .  And just as suddenly it stopped ... the volunteers had found a Bach cd . More in keeping , perhaps  , with this Reformed , very plain building .
I did find a small restored wall painting hiding up in a corner  

and pottered happily along the pews , lined with the usual ancient bird books travel guides , including a pristine Illustrated Aerial Guide of the Twenty Best Roundabouts of Europe  ( I decided against it , but the sale's on till June in case you need it ) , bought four paperbacks , and promising to come again , wandered up through quiet little streets to have a sandwich and resist kidnapping the cafe's little white-stockinged tabby cat who was snoozing on my feet .



rachel said...

I often have to resist kidnapping a cat!

What on earth happened to that sword, I wonder?

SmitoniusAndSonata said...

Perhaps the pirate came back . At nearly seven foot , Grutte Pier was apparently a fearsome figure .

love those cupcakes said...

Well done on all the restraint at the collectors' fair. Hope you've located that 'off' button on the camera. Quite like the idea of Ray and Willie bursting forth in the church. It might be about a couple of Mexican bandits but that song was voted one of the 40 saddest country songs of all time.