Weekly Photo Challenge: Foreign

Pictures courtesy of geolocation.ws and myself

These are pictures of the island of Terschelling. It’s relatively close to where I live, but it feels like a totally different place. I’ve lived and worked on the island for about a year and somehow the island grabbed me. It’s in my blood. I love Terschelling.


For more entries click here.




Krintsjebrij is a Frisian dessert that both Jay and I love. Originally the recipe is a bit different, but I’ve made my own version of it.


  • 2 liters of grape juice
  • 150 gr pearled barley
  • 100 gr raisins
  • 100 gr currants


Put the grape juice on the stove until it boils. Turn the heat low and add the pearled barley, the raisins and the currants. Turn it down to low and let it simmer for 45 minutes until pearled barley is done. Serve hot or cold.


Thank you mom/dad bloggers

Thank you for sharing your happy news with us. And your ultrasound pictures.

Thank you for letting us view your bump, preferably in underwear, or better even, nude!

Thank you for making sure we know when you went into labour, how long it took, how painful it was and sharing pictures of the end result. Especially pictures or videos of the birth, the baby only seconds after it came out and pictures of your breasts with or without baby attached.

Thank you for making sure we know about every burp, every cry, every whimper of your precious baby.

Thank you for letting us share in your insomnia, in your dementia (yes, I used that word deliberately) and in your cries for attention.

Thank you for making sure we know when your kid starts walking, talking, eating solid food and when you start potty training. Again, we all need the proof in the pictures.

Thank you for updating us on every single thing your kid has made, done or didn’t do. Especially the naughty stuff like posting pictures of you naked to Facebook (with a link so we can check them out) or painting the walls of the livingroom with peanut butter (are you sure it’s peanut butter?).

Everything you share has made me realise that I never want kids! Kids are the most terrible thing that can happen to you. You won’t ever have one second to yourself. Your whole world revolves around those bloody bastards.  All I read is “my kids… nag nag nag, bitch bitch bitch.” Because you are sharing that they keep you awake, that they trashed your only good jumper, they’d set a pair of scissors into your new shoes. They came home covered in mud, dog poo or whatever they could find to bully you with. They found a bag of flour in the kitchen and decided to “bake cookies”. All of this sounds hilarious to me, it really does. Because I’m not the one who has to clean it up! So thank you! For convincing me even more that my choice of not having kids was the right one!

And please, can you put a disclaimer on the ultrasound pictures? Every time I see one of those I lose my appetite…



Weekly Photo Challenge: Silhouette

When I saw this week’s Photo Challenge I didn’t think I’d have anything remotely suitable. But I woke up in the middle of the night and I suddenly remembered this picture. This is our cat Candy behind our kitchen curtain with sunlight streaming in. I think it’s a lovely picture.

For more Entries in this challenge, click here.

Twitter Giveaways

Lately I’ve seen lots of companies doing giveaways on Twitter. Only to get more followers. That, in itself isn’t a big problem, but I really dislike how they do it.

I’ve been following some companies for a long time. Many of them even before they really started exploiting Twitter. I feel like a loyal follower. But since many companies only look at the numbers there’s now a trend to give new followers something if they are follower number X

For instance this tweet. I don’t follow them, but merely used it to make my point. Why is follower 600 getting a price? Because you have another 599 (loyal) followers. What about follower 10? Or follower 100? They don’t get anything. Why? Because they were loyal. Because they didn’t wait until there was a giveaway just to win follower 600.

This, to me, sounds really unfair. I’ve had it before with a local shop. I simply unfollowed them and tried to be that X follower, just to have a chance of winning that giveaway. And I’ve unfollowed quite a few companies because of a giveaway like this. If you want to do a giveaway on Twitter because you’ve reached X amounts of followers, please to it like this:


This is fair to all followers. Please companies, make your giveaways fair to all of your followers. Because many of them are seriously put off by giveaways that only are for new followers. Loyal followers should get a chance too!

Weekly Photo Challenge: Big

This tree stump was one of six that were in our garden when we bought this house. It took Jay and my dad quite a few hours to get them all out. If you want to know more about it, go here.

For more interpretations of Big, check here.

Weekly Writing Challenge: How do you tell her?

Before I became a nurse I worked as a cleaner for elderly people. They hired my employer and he send me to the job. By the time this happened my boss found out I was quite good at working with people who were (almost) blind. I had 4 clients, 3 of them were legally blind, although all 3 could see vague shapes in a well-lit room.

Mrs C. was a lovely old lady, almost 90 years old. She lived in an apartment close to a care home. Her meals were brought to her from the care home kitchen and she could join in with the activities organised by the care home. Mrs C. was quite a good sjoeler, despite being legally blind. She had no idea what she did, but she’d won the competition at least 4 time in the past few years. A few months ago her washing machine broke down and her nephew (she had no children) and I had decided it was best to let the care home do her laundry. She frequently over-filled the washing machine and once I stood knee-deep in foam when she managed to empty a whole bottle of laundry detergent into the machine. She wasn’t too happy about it, as it ment that she had to go and pick up her laundry every week, but when I promised I’d go with her for that walk she’d given in.

On this morning, it was around 10.30 AM, Mrs C. and I were on our way to the laundry room of the care home. She told me that a new neighbour was moving into the apartment next to hers. Her old neighbour passed away just a few weeks earlier and, as all deaths did to her, she was quite distraught by this. We picked up the clean laundry and walked back to her apartment, through the long, well-lit corridor. We passed a neighbour, recognized by Mrs C. as Mr V. “Good morning Mr V.” She said. “morning Mrs. C.” Mr V. replied back. By the door of the empty apartment Mrs C. saw another vague shape. As she wasn’t sure what the name of the new neighbour was she tried to be polite and said “Good morning”. The shape said nothing back. Barely 2 steps further she told me, just a tad too hard “Well, that’s not very nice. One could at least say good morning back.” I had a really hard time controlling my laughter, but managed to say “Shht, Mrs C. You can’t say that when you’re still in earshot. You have to wait a few seconds longer.” But I couldn’t tell her why the shape said nothing back. Because how do you tell someone she just said hello to a vacuum cleaner?


If you want to join in, go here.

My love and hate for ELO

This morning I saw Jeff Lynne on BBC Breakfast. They were interviewing him about the upcoming album release. Mr Blue Sky was one of the songs they’d let us see a bit of. This song reminded me so much of my love and my hate for ELO. And I’d figured I should explain this.

17 years ago my uncle Harm died. He’d been a DJ for quite a few years and he loved ELO. When I was little he used to babysit me and my brother and he’d always put on ELO for us. There were a few songs that I liked, Mr Blue Sky was one of them. I remember when I was about 2 years old he was always singing MeatLoaf’s Paradise by the Dashboard Light for me 🙂

Anyways, at my uncle’s funeral we played Mr Blue Sky, Twilight and Hold on Tight. And whenever I hear one of those songs I both love to hear them and start crying at the same time. It reminds me of a very hard time in my life that I rather not be reminded of.

The clever neighbour.

This happened years ago, when we were living in an apartment block, mostly occupied by elderly people. A few months before this happened a new neighbour moved in. He was about 20 years old and he was thrown out of his previous apartment in the roughest area of our town. The reason being his constant antisocial behaviour. Playing loud music in the wee hours of the night, yelling, screaming, you name it. To be thrown out of that area, you have to behave pretty bad. So I still wonder why they placed him in our block…

Anyway, we had lots of trouble already. We called the cops a few times, one of which I remember best. It was Pentecost and the party had been going on for hours. There were lots of people going in and out, lots of booze, lots of yelling and screaming and lots of terrified neighbours. Around 3 AM we’d had enough and called the police. The woman on the other end of the phone asked me kindly if I’d asked them to turn down the volume. Uhm… No, of course not. There’s like 20 huge guys there and most of them were pretty drunk. No way I was going to their door. So the police came. They turned down the volume for a bit, but when the police were gone the volume went up even higher than before. So I called again. This time the music went down and stayed down for about 30 minutes. Only to be followed by a lot of screaming and yelling and banging on the door (not ours). It turned out that one of the guys had collapsed. All of the others were too drunk to have any clue what to do. At first I thought nothing of it and I wasn’t going to call an ambulance. But when I heard people yelling the guy who’d collapsed was a diabetic and he was unconscious I did call for an ambulance and I told the woman on the phone to send the police as well, as I thought they might be making trouble. Turns out I was right about that and the police was needed to let the ambulance take the guy to hospital. We contacted our housing company for the gazillionth time and finally they started making arrangements to throw the guy out. But not before this happened…

All apartments had a locker in an outbuilding, connected to the main block. The guy had kicked in the door of his locker about 5 times already and every time he got a new door. The rest of the residents weren’t too happy with this, as we all had to pay for damages to the building. But by this time, the housing company has stopped replacing the door for free. So when it got kicked in again, they asked him why it had been kicked in and they told him that if he wanted to get it replaced for free he should go to the police and file a declaration of destruction or burglary. By this time the alcohol really got to this guy, because he went to the police and told them he’d been burgled. So the police came to ask neighbours some questions. Whilest going out we found two policemen and two neighbours near the guys locker…

The policemen asked us if we wanted to answer a few questions. Of course, no problem. Did we notice the door was broken? Yes, of course. It had been like that for weeks. For weeks? So this didn’t happen two or three nights ago? No, I was sure of that. The door had been open for at least 2 weeks. Hmm, well, the guy told the police someone had broken into his locker only a few nights ago. I asked the policemen if he told them anything had been stolen and they said that he told them X amounts of empty beercrates had been stolen. (can’t remember the exact amount). I asked them what they thought of the fact that the entrance door to the locker building didn’t have any signs of a break-in and of the fact that the thief walked by at least 5 other lockers before they broke into his. They smirked a bit. I then asked them if X amount of beer crates actually fitted into the locker. Yes, they had measured it and they did fit in. I looked at them for a moment and if asked if the guy had taken into account that the door opened inwards. They laughed and told me that he hadn’t taken that into account. I smirked and told them they’d know enough now.

The door stayed open for a few more weeks and was only repaired after the guy had been kicked out. We all were very happy with this, as we finally had peace again.