Posted in Border hopping, Humour, Personal, Photo

Lost

Last week I did it again. I got lost on my way from work. The commute is only ten minutes when there’s no traffic. But that night, it was horrible. Cars slowed down in front of me, then came to a stop. And stayed put entirely. I only had a couple of seconds before I would be cornered -the lane was already flooding with other drivers who tried to find a way out- and forced onto the highway, so I decided to turn to the right. The car jumped into gear and took me into the shortcut.

Through that manoeuvre I found myself in a road I didn’t expect to find myself in. But hey, navigating is easy, right? I approximately knew the direction I had to take. Heading towards a roundabout, I decided to continue my straight course. At the next turn I took a left. My eyes were roaming the streets for landmarks so I could orientate myself, but to no avail. Right again, then left. It took me deeper and deeper into the residential area. Narrow streets, one-way streets. Little children on little bikes, swarming the sidewalks and road. Parents parking their cars and blocking my way. After ten minutes of following my built-in radar and getting nowhere, I surrendered and activated my TomTom.

While I waited for the satellites to connect with my little electronic guide, my thoughts returned to last week. Getting lost in the streets of a town is nothing. Getting lost in an English pub, now that is a new accomplishment of my nonexistent sense of direction. My V-man and I were having a very nice lunch. And, being in the United Kingdom, we simply had to have a very nice cuppa or two. Before resuming our trip, I decided to get rid of superfluous tea and visit the restroom. I had no trouble whatsoever finding it. To find my way back was the real challenge. When I came out, the place suddenly looked unfamiliar. Where was the lunchroom? Where was the entrance? Bewildered I stopped and stared, shaking my head in utter amazement. And resignation. A kind old gentleman asked “What’s the matter, love?” and I simply said “I’m lost. In a pub. Can you believe it?” For I could not.

In my defense though (the only defense I can artfully think of): the things one sees on the way in are not the same things one sees on the way back. I kid you not! But I rest this lost case. I’m missing some strange and mysterious ability and I will never get it. Lost. In a pub. I have hit rock bottom.

PS. I managed to find V-man that afternoon, and arrived at home safely. 😉

 

Posted in Humour, Personal, Writing

Wine of the Month – sold out

The Wine of the Month? I’m sorry, but we’re all sold out. Those people over there drank the last bottle.

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Our heads swing in perfect harmony in the direction of the waitress’ finger, while our brains try to digest this information.

Eh, excuse me, but what day of the month is it again?

Sir?

I said, do you know what day of the month it is?

Yes, it’s February 1st.

And you are telling us that the Wine of the Month is already sold out? And those people drank it all?!

It was.

Last Saturday the V-man and I went out for dinner with our two dear friends M&M. We do that every other month. And we alternate in finding new establishments, keeping our finds secret until we park at the door of the restaurant.

Our friends picked a very original place: bistro Nok, situated in the ancient Prison Gate in Woudrichem. This gate was part of the fortifications of the town, dating back to the sixteenth century. Nowadays the building is used as a restaurant, though in the 19th century, the food for the prisoners must have been of a much lesser quality.

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After climbing four stairs, we arrived in an amazing space. Only three other tables and a charming hostess. Dining directly under the rafters does feel special. And feeling special is a very good reason to drink a glass of delicious Spanish red wine. But we were not that lucky. The waitress, sympathizing with our astonishment, promised to find a wine of similar quality, matching our main course. She rushed down the stairs.

Ten minutes later she returned with two different bottles, one French, the other Italian. With panache she told us all about these great wines and we were almost forgetting about the Wine of the Month, when…

So both are very good wines. But there is a slight problem.

Which is?

These are both the last bottles.

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Excuse me, but did you just say these are the last bottles? You bring two bottles of wine to our table and then tell us these are the last of their kind? And the Wine of the Month is sold out? What kind of restaurant is this?

Our hostess smiled and smiled, gritted her teeth and smiled some more. We told her she shouldn’t take our comments personal, but that some changes in the purchase policy of the restaurant might be in order. When I – trying to be helpful – suggested a wholesale for food professionals, she almost fainted. Apparently the wines at that wholesale were beneath them.

Well, at least they have more than one bottle.

I muttered.

Ah, but we get to taste different wines now!

the V-man said to lighten the mood. And the mood got even lighter when we tasted the delicious food, YUM.

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Posted in Humour, Personal, Photo, Photo challenge

Weekly Photo Challenge: Joy

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Meet my darling parents at their 50th wedding anniversary, four years ago. Such a lovely and fun couple ♥ My dad had the giggles for over five minutes and each time he started anew. Happy times!

Have a joyful weekend.

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WordPress Weekly Photo Challenge.

Posted in Humour, Photo, Photo challenge

Travel theme: Fragrant

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😉

Ailsa
< Ailsa’s Travel Theme Challenge

Posted in Animals, Humour, Photo, Photo challenge, Quote

Desire

Ese’s Weekly Shoot & Quote Challenge: Desire

Longing, felt fully, carries us to belonging.

– Tara Brach

This is one nice chickie!

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Come on, babe, give us a hug.

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Wanna play?

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EsesVoice
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Posted in Animals, Art, Humour, Movies, Personal

Mirror Mirror

My Saturday in Six Words:

SMILING ALWAYS HELPS TO FEEL BETTER

The newest film of Simon’s Cat, Mirror Mirror. For all cat lovers, and for those who might be one. 🙂

Though I try to avoid mirrors at the moment. After another night from hell there are black valleys of exhaustion under my eyes, and my lungs are dangling over my shoulders. Either the changing of seasons is troubling my trachea, or the thousands of people at the Roger Waters concert last Sunday have been aiming yukkie stuff at me. This never abating coughing keeps me awake – perhaps even the whole house and neighborhood, I have to check on that – causes my head to pound (or again it might be an after effect of The Wall drums) and makes me feel (and look) like a limp dishcloth.

So please excuse me, while I watch Simon’s Cat another twenty times. 😉 Have a healthy Saturday x

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6WS
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