I'm Real ! Blogger Agrees At Last

A bird's nest, washed out of Smitonius's hedge during a huge rainstorm this week, eggs and all. She was amused to see , woven into the nest, a pink ribbon pinched from a little bag she'd been going to put a jewellery order in.

 I've spent idiotic amounts of time trying to sign into my Blogger account for the last couple of weeks and had virtually given up, almost convinced that I didn't actually exist . An impression re-enforced at the hospital this week, when the young nurse tried to take a blood sample from my arm and failed three times. She rushed off to enlist the help of a colleague and I was left, wondering whether I was empty... Luckily her more experienced colleague managed to get enough to prove that I wasn't.

 Anyway… now I've been graciously reinstated , I can't immediately think of anything at all.   Perhaps binge-watching Nailed It ! on Netflix hasn't helped. Perhaps it was the heatwave that has been driving all western Europe to gay abandon  and to cavort in fountains … except that we here on Holland's north coast haven't been any hotter than normal, the heatwave missing us altogether.

 Never mind, it's pleasantly warm today and I've finally made myself a watermelon smoothie and a tortilla de patatas to celebrate. So now all that remains to do is to watch the boats on the river, read yet another whodunnit and admire my growing collection of lavender and its clouds of bumble bees.  I'll see if tomorrow my brain can dredge up anything slightly more interesting to post...

Breaking Out ...

It took me all week not to do that jigsaw … exhausting! It's firmly back in its box and will be going back to the recycling center next time I go. Still, it did force me out of the door and onto a train for which I'm grateful. Just a dash to Groningen, since I'd left it to mid-morning,  but I had enough time for lunch and a wander. I found a rather fine poster for a vintage shop and must go back some time  when it's open.
                                                                                       

 

By the market, my favourite climbing rose was having a good day … had I left it a couple of days later it would have been reduced to a couple of twigs; one storm after another this week has battered everything flat.

As always I dropped into the North African shop on the way back to the train and was fascinated to overhear a discussion between the owner and a possible buyer. Purchaser was wondering if he could redesign the front to make more sales room; 'modernise it all a bit'. He was told that the shop front's protected , "because it's been like this for the last twenty years." Considering the church round the back is at least a couple of hundred year old, the man looked a trifle puzzled but , of course, the street just used to be an alleyway.  Anyway, I realised then just how long I've lived here; I watched the facade being done. When we first came it was the only place to buy olives, proper tomatoes, good lentils and feta and, home-sick as I was, it was a lifeline. It's funny to look back and think that the only way to get chorizo was to go to Amsterdam! And Manchego cheese is still really only to be found at Christmas.

It's impossible to think of life  now without these things. I settled down the end but have always enjoyed trips to Groningen … in fact, I've just talked myself into another tomorrow. Lots of birthdays next week and presents to be found….

Still Shoeless, of Course

But I have got another Pyrex dish, seven more secondhand detective books and two jigsaws. In my defence I should say that I had taken five cookery books and a raincoat to  the charity shop when I went... as Kondo-ish as I'm likely to get.

 One of the puzzles is guaranteed to send me boss-eyed; by Tuesday I'll be seeing little red triangles on everything. Charity shop jigsaws only come in two kinds..."Views" like German Castles, Greek Temples or Shakespeare's Birthplace … or "Busy" like Biscuits, Fish Scales or Ferns. Well, this one is a Mayan mother with her baby, wrapped in a blanket, mostly blanket. Endless stripes and a straw hat. I think it's supposed to be soothing … we'll see. Anyway, I've got a big jar of olives and a chicken roasting in the oven. So happy me.

Boats chugging up and down the river. A large, lurid pink Geranium called Marjorie, a big bag of Minneolas and Summer's beginning.

Now the Keep fit group has shrunk for the Summer, the local paper is the source of all gossip again. It's funny how much has changed in the last few years. These days the mayor seems to attend endless 100th Birthday parties and Golden Wedding Anniversaries but a couple of weeks ago he outdid himself. A local couple celebrated their Platinum Anniversary and her 108 year-old father was there to raise his glass to them, too. My youngest aunt, who's going to be 80 next week, seems positively frisky in comparison … mind you, she and her husband still go on hiking holidays.  Don't think I've ever hiked …..