Expiration

Is there an expiration date for jobs, and if not, should there be? More and more I find myself feeling unhappy if not ill at ease where I used to be so very, very happy for a long time. Almost 8 years ago I got hired as a substitute and from the start I knew this was the place for me. During those years I got promoted from sub to one day a week employee to part timer doing 22 hours. I loved every minute and ever change was accepted with open arms. Those days seem long gone. Being part of the workers council gave me a look behind closed doors, that I’d rather not have seen. Little irritations are starting to become obsessions and I feel myself getting pulled deeper and deeper into a feeling of discontent.
Time to put my resume out there and move on?

Men are wimps

Is there anything more annoying then a man who is bedridden for whatever reason? Yesterday they lasered one of his legs to get rid of a very bad varicose vein. Yes, with laser technology. Not stripped like they used to. Some tiny injections to numb the leg and within one hour he was back on the ward. With one heavily bandaged leg (he didn’t give a sound as the nurse expertly applied the bandage) he insisted on driving home himself (and I am such a good driver). As soon as the injections started to wear of the moaning set in. To make matters worse the bandages started to slip and yes, he decided to take them of and asked me to put them back the way they were. Hello! I am a woman of many talents, but a trained nurse I’m not. Not a clue as to how much pressure is right I started to tight, then it wasn’t tight enough. And all the while he groaned and moaned.
Now he drops his pants every five minutes to inspect his upper leg because he thinks it is way out of proportion. “Look” he said ”This is way bigger then the other one. Do you think we need to call the doctor?” He moans when het walks, sits down, gets up or even if he just changes positions on the couch. No man has ever suffred the way he does right now. If this continues he might have to call the men in white coats….for me

Autumn

Autumn to winter, winter into spring,
Spring into summer, summer into fall,
So rolls the changing year, and so we change;
Motion so swift, we know not that we move.
Dinah Maria Mulock
Long before it’s time I feel my body settling into autumn mode. There is a dull pain in my bones that tell me summer is definitely over. I hate autumn. Drab gray hours flow into early darkness long before the day is done. I might have a moment of joy on a sunny day when the park shows it’s full blazing colours from yellow to deep amber brown and fiery red, but most of the time I just wish I’d live in a warmer climate. I need the warmth of the sun to make me sparkle. The feel of a summer breeze on naked skin is like a soft caress. Autumn brings gloom, cold feet and scowling people hiding under umbrella’s that are to big to let you pass safely on a sidewalk.
Autumn, too depressing for words.

Lost

I blame Dale, he posted his image with the link and (being who I am) now I can’t stop playing around with my 3d image.


Please help..I'm lost!

Odd couple

While looking for a soppy Tom Jones song (no, don't ask, just accept it) I found this jewel. Tom and Janis, 1969, priceless

Shameless promotion

To be honest, I have no idea if this is the right way to promote my blog, but you don’t know if you don’t try is my motto. I first was introduced to this interview by Bonez. Being a co host at his site he admitted my name and I got invited to participate. So, dear readers of Double Dutch, click the link and vote for me please? I really would like to see my ratings go sky-high.
(No worries,being delusional is painless)

Memories

Mesmerized I watch the screen. Strings of joy, but also pain tugging at my heart as pictures of yesteryear unfold in front of my eyes. Grandparents, aunts, uncles, all long gone. And there is my mother. Always my mother, so elegant, smiling at the man behind the camera. Her pretty face not yet distorted by the lines of discontent that were formed in later years. My mother as I want to remember her. Happy, young, beautiful. My brothers, sisters, so young. Family outings, the vacations spend at the seaside. The building of our house. Christmas at my grandmothers. Seeing all the familiar faces, the pictures on the wall, the little traditions that we had. I cry for the for the love that was lost, the happiness that disappeared but once had been so obvious.
Four precious DVD’s with images of my youth, my hometown, the street where we lived.
Just for a little while I am back where I belong

Second life

In January 2007, a man named Molotov Alva, disappeared from his Californian home. Recently, a series of video dispatches by a Traveler of the same name have appeared within a popular online world called Second Life.

This is the beginning of the first episode of 'My Second Life', a documentary shot entirely in Second Life. I was fascinated by the voice and the way the story was told but even more by the concept. Not once have I set foot in second life, scared it could suck me in and take over. Could I have been right?
See for yourself..

Thoughtfulness Award

It’s the day after, and still I’m speechless. Ces, who’s writing and artwork I so admire gave me an award. A true honest to God award for thoughtfulness. In her words:
Thoughtful bloggers are those who take the time to acknowledge their visitors and respectfully pays them with a visit. These bloggers just don't visit to leave a "Hello" or "Nice" comment. They are thoughtful and genuinely expressive of their opinions, agreements or disagreements without ever losing grace.

Although I am not sure I deserve this, I am honored and proud that she choose me, of all those that come to her blog on a daily basis, for this award.

Bullets

No words, no explanation necessary, the video says it all