You could think my visit to the Netherlands follows a cynical list of required visits. In reality, I genuinely miss each person I visit - and the more people I seek out, the more I realise 'to miss' is to feel pain. Last night, I went to bed missing Lottie in heart wrenching style. I know she has a stressful time alone with her dad, and it breaks my heart not to be able to cuddle and massage her. But on the other hand, I feel I am where I should be at the moment. It's so wonderful to see my family again, and so comfortable to be back in the Netherlands, like stretching out on a sofa that remembered the shape of my body. I'm ever so snug.

Though I had the intention of getting up early, I relaxed in my room until 1 pm or so - sleeping, browsing old books and pictures, bathing in nostalgia. In the late afternoon, I cycled to my sister's apartment - for both of us to be picked up by dad. The three of us went to our grandmother. Well, my dad's mother. We spent a few hours catching up and chatting. As ever, she was easily convinced to sing old songs - which I caught on video (below). I realised that, however familiar and utterly natural it was for the four of us to spend time together.. However much my grandmother's house seems caught in a timewarp, a 1970's bubble she is part of, none of this is true and all of it can be easily lost. It's painful to think it had been 18 months since my last visit at least, and 13 months since I last saw my dad and sister. I could blame the few beers I had for it, but it can move me to tears. Enough said on the subject though - I'll do some private soul searching - and I'll end this post with clips of my grandmother's grandeur.


Het Knaapje


Het Fiere Schooiershart