Frustration: It seems that I must post this in little pieces because of the sucky Internet here so, it it's not making sense, pretend it's a puzzle or, easier, just assume that it doesn't make sense.
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As I sit here alone in my cell at the Gulag with my cup of instant coffee, I remember not so long ago, about this time on a Sunday morning, sitting in a different world enjoying a large cappuccino with the most amazing man...
Pause for a second and feel my reflective attitude, my huge sigh and, most of all, my pain. Instant coffee, seriously. Who invented this shit?
This entry was going to be titled Day 13 of my Incarceration and become a marvellous therapeutic rant about my current work location and all its perils including dodgy Internet, gastrointestinal infections, high fences, wine offerings from a carton and a lack of sex social interaction. Fortunately, I have had adequate opportunities to rant thanks to Skype and the tolerant ones who still answer their phones so, on to more pleasant things.
The town that I currently live in, Wassenaar, is basically a residential feeder community to some of the larger cities like Den Haag and Amsterdam. It is quiet and clean and exudes Dutch charm with its cobblestone, open-air markets, flower stands and bustling shoppers on bicycles.
Sundays are different. Walking down our market street on a Sunday morning makes me feel as though I have woken up in a science fiction novel where the aliens have used that secret weapon that destroys all humans but leaves the infrastructure unscathed. It is absolutely desolate and a little unnerving.
So, historically we have done the "items needed for survival" checklist on Saturday before 5:00 pm; wine, coffee, milk (for the coffee), toilet paper, dry cleaning and whatever else we cannot live without until Monday morning after 10:00 am and then we hunker down, sleep in, visit the local crepe establishment because we forgot to buy food (the offspring are in Canada for the summer), do laundry and think of things we could be doing if only there was life in our corner of the world.
Sunday, June 28, 2009, was different. It was a beautiful day outside so I put the question out to the most amazing man; are we going to walk or ride our bikes to the crepe place. He says, "Why don't we get in the car and go somewhere different?"
What, like the other crepe place? I thought that place was too touristy for us; the cool local people.
No... further....
So, we drove to Leiden, a small city less than 15 kilometres from our place. Well, Leiden is where all forms of life go to on Sundays! We went for brunch and we stayed all day.
It all sounds so......foreign.... yet civilized. Cherish these times as all hell is about to decend.
Posted by: madonnart | July 16, 2009 at 06:14 PM