Fixy

Those of you who know me quite well, and most of you do, know that I like to fix things. It's not only that I enjoy fixing things and the end result, it's also a lot to do with not being able to let broken things be broken. If it's fixable, I will try my damnedest to do so. Lucky for me, I am also quite handy and resourceful, and not too shabby with tools (even the human variety!) I like things to be in perfect working condition, from drawers to computers. Things need to work, run smoothly, life needs to be as easy as possible so that there are no delays and frustrations. That's why I love Apple products, they make my life easier, they are super efficient and help me be organised. I also love the extent to which you can customise everything so it's optimised for your life. (I am not paid by Apple to say these things, but I wish I was.)

I am the only one in our little family of three to be like that. Both my mother and sister are quite able to deal with something being broken in their environment for an extended amount of time.
So I ended up doing quite a bit of fixing at my sister's place last year. For at least six months, if not a year before I arrived last year, her bathroom sink was broken. And by broken I mean that she accidentally pushed her push-down drain plug so hard that she pushed out the actual plumbing underneath. If you dropped something in her sink, it would fall through the plug hole and end up in the cabinet underneath. Of course, this also included the water from the tap. So she stopped using it. When I went to stay at her place, I couldn't believe she could live without a functioning sink in her bathroom for months, when it didn't seem that complicated to fix. I had never really fixed plumbing to such an extent before, but I was sure I could manage.
So I went to her local hardware store, explained the situation to the nice man who owned the place, got the necessary advice as well as what I needed to fix the plumbing. It wasn't hard, the hardest part was the lack of good tools. For example, I had to measure the circumference of her drainpipes by circling them on a piece of paper and taking that into the hardware store. This was mere days before Phizz and I became close friends. It would have been fantastic to have know Phizz then as well as I do now, he would have had all the tools I needed. Nevertheless, I got the job done and it is still fully functioning.

Phizz is, like me, also very fixy and I love that. He is probably even more fixy than I am. He fixes leaky taps in public toilets and other things around that the world not owned by him, which has often made people think he was the hired engineer rather than just a good Samaritan. I don't go that far, but I go further than most. I fix things for people, but often I fix things that belong to others that I need to use just because I cannot stand using broken/inefficient things. My sister's shower and mixer tap really need to be fixed at the moment. It is only because I didn't have the tools with me that it is still spraying water out the side where it shouldn't.

But it is also a new way of thinking that has stopped me from fixing everything: sometimes I just need to let things be broken, because it's not mine to fix and the person I fix things for might not appreciate the time and effort I put into fixing their things, and/or they don't even care it is broken. Often they are things I would only use a few times in my life. They are not my problem. Half of the halogen lights at my sister's place aren't working, most notably the two bedside lights. It frustrated the hell out of me the few nights I have slept there in the last two months, but I haven't replaced them because I couldn't afford to and that's also probably why my sister hasn't. It's not a priority for her, why should it be for me?

But I do love the satisfaction I feel when I have fixed something and it is restored to a fully functioning order. Today I fixed the two spring-loaded dog leads that Mum's dog had broken (by chewing through the cords when we used them to tie him to something when he rather just run around) and now they are just fine again. She bought the second one to replace the first broken one, and she would have had to another buy a new one if I hadn't been around. Those things are not cheap. So I feel extra happy when I can fix things like that.

And so I have a million things that I fix around the world. I like fixing things, I will keep on fixing things until I will be frustrated to the max when I cannot do so anymore because I am old and no longer nimble. But until then, fixy is my middle name. Florence Fixy Nulens.

Lost and at home

Hilarious this! I just downloaded the 'blogger' app so I could finally enter another post on my much neglected blog while out, and it turns out you cannot tilt your screen sideways to write in it with a wider screen/ keyboard. Talk about ironic when it comes to a app which one would use for writing mostly.

That's besides the point. The point is, I haven't been blogging like a good little writer ought to. Mostly because I am extremely busy and occupied while in Europe, more so than usual when I'm in the Netherlands. I have also been unable to sleep, so at night time instead of writing I lay awake with my mind racing and then shutting up said thoughts by watching tv series online, four or five episodes back to back and then feeling my eyes droop and gratefully falling into a coma.
Then I wake up later than I want and rush to get stuff done during the day. Sounds like a healthy way to live, no? No. It's not, you're right.

But I did get stuff done, believe it or not. I have spent a lot of time cleaning my mother's house, garden & car, though you wouldn't be able to tell at all since she and her big black adorable nightmare of a monstrous dog make a bigger mess than all of the children I have ever looked after put together.

I also have spent a decent amount of time watching my friend Phizz pack for his move to the US. I was supposed to help him, and I did in small ways, but he insisted he had to do most of it himself, and that my presence was all he needed. So I was present, though slightly frustrated by the fact I couldn't do anything. We had a lot of fun in the hours that we were not packing, got up to the same sort of shenanigans that we did last year, driving around in fast cars in the middle of the night to random places, watching movies and eating all sorts of vegetarian Asian foods. He is a most awesome friend. I have to say knowing him has really enriched my life and knowing we will be friends far into the future always makes me feel happy and excited.
The thing about Phiroze is that he is just so different from most people, but we are similar in many ways as well and we love random spontaneous actions of crazy fun. He is optimistic, generous, funny, adventurous, caring and sincere. And he is, unlike nearly all other men I know, incredibly easy to talk to and communicates better than even some women I know.
Phizz is also truly interested in everything. And with that I mean everything, from how you're feeling to how the world works and everything in it, as well as space and beyond. Fact is, he is awesome and he, unlike most men I know, and even some women I love, frequently tells me that I am awesome too. Do you know how nice it is to have a friend who expresses their appreciation of you often? It is wonderful. And sadly in my life not very common. I am easily thrown into self doubt and sometimes even self-loathing and to have a friend who often tells you you're awesome is in one word, awesome. So, it's been wonderful spending time with him, and I miss him now that he's no longer in Amsterdam. Sure, we will have awesome fun together elsewhere around the world, but I will not be able to spend as much time with him while he lives in the US, because I just won't spend months over there like I do here. But as he says: The future is long. And exciting.

In true Phiroze style, for his 'final hurrah' in Europe, he brought five of his friends together in Paris, and we spent one glorious night being the pink brigade. I drove a rental car from the south of France where I was with my mum in Les Bernardies, two other friends were flown from Berlin and two already lived in Paris. The six of us have created a truly amazing and ever-lasting memory together, thanks to this one guy. Who else has a friend like that? Well, yes, Phizz's other friends, haha!

Anyway. I did also see other friends, most notably my friend Emily, whom you might remember as being my partner in crime last year traipsing around Amsterdam looking for cocktail bars. This year, things have been quite different as she last week gave birth to a gorgeous little girl called Olivia. She arrived nearly three weeks early, which is nice because this way I could meet her before flying back to Australia. I have to say Olivia has brought up many emotions for me, quite conflicting ones. I loved seeing my oldest and most treasured friend being pregnant, I cannot tell how much she was the shining example of the the glowing mum-to-be, for some reason it gave her tremendous power, and she became even more self-confident and determined. It was amazing to witness. I am thankful to Olivia for that, she did that even before she was born.
But when Em told me she was pregnant, I cried. And she knows they were not tears of joy, and I am not embarrassed to admit my selfish reaction. She and I had many discussions last year about the change a baby brings to women's friendships and how I am not ready to give up my friends to their children. I have spent a disproportionate amount of time with little people for one who is not a mother, and I treasure my grown-up time with my few friends.
Though of course, it didn't take long for me to get used to the idea and I have in the last few months spent quite a lot of time creating a nappy bag for her, which I finished just yesterday and gave it to her when I met Olivia for the first time. Thankfully seeing Em yesterday was just like it has always been before Olivia arrived: two good friends, enjoying each other's company, laughing, feeling good. Olivia doesn't need too much attention quite yet, so that's nicely designed by nature, giving everyone the chance to ease into the fact that she will slowly need more and more attention, which means everyone else will get less.

It is just the way it is, and should be, with children. They demand, and deserve, a lot of attention. They are new to this world, and it is our job as adults to teach them, answer their questions, and make sure they become happy, confident, responsible adults. I guess I just have to get used to the fact that, at my age, more and more people will be happy with spending more time with their kids than their friends. I'm just not ready for it myself. I still feel 24 when it comes to taking responsibility. Paying a mortgage, renovating a house, thinking of children, worrying about your mother getting older and needing help, I'm just not ready for any of that. But sometimes you don't get a choice.

Anyway, being alone in Amsterdam with my thoughts yesterday with time to think after seeing my best friend as a mother for the first time came down on me like a ton of bricks and I sat in my sister's apartment crying for quite some time. There were just a lot of things feeling bigger than I was able to handle. Phizz moving to the US, Em a mum, my mother's troubles, my having to defer Uni and still being an aimless wanderer felt just hopeless for a moment there. But nothing that packet of choc chip cookies, cups of tea and watching tv series online (see!) couldn't fix.

I am witnessing a lot of people change their lives, mostly for the better, through their own hard work and skill, and it makes me feel like a loser. It makes me feel like I might just be sabotaging myself into not taking charge of my own sense of achievement because I am too scared to do so. I feel weak and unable to become successful. There, I said it. I really want a satisfactory career, and somehow I just can't accomplish starting it. Maybe that can be my challenge for when I get back to Australia. No, not maybe: that WILL be my challenge. It is the one thing I have to do for myself. Go out there and get successful. And don't get me wrong: I don't desire making a lot of money or anything, I just want to feel like I've accomplished something. To be successful is to have success in what you're trying to achieve. But I don't know what I want to achieve quite yet. I just want a satisfying job.

But for now though, I will achieve the following: hopping back on my bike and riding through Amsterdam to my sister's place, enjoying every canal and cute house I pass. Feeling ok with how I am right now. A little fatter than I'd like to be, a little more lost emotionally than I'd like to be, in a place where I am not physically lost because I know my way around more and more, where I feel at home but where my heart always becomes a mess. That's ok. Ok is not bad.

The Help

Hi. If you read both my blogs, you might have clued in to the fact that I posts some things on both this blog and Return to the Nesterlands, and other things only on this blog. This is my 'secret' blog. This is a blog for the inner circle, if you will. Last year I sent a whole heap of people (including my mother and mother-in-law) a link to my other blog, as I wanted to inform far away relatives and acquaintances of how things were going. But sometimes it's hard knowing who's reading what you're writing. Especially if you want to write about them or write how you feel about something when you know certain people will want to give you advice you don't need. Though there are other people whose advice I desperately want, but they never post or comment. Go figure. I want a blog that is very popular and will win awards, but I don't want some people to read it! That's the problem with blogs, you can't really be choosy about your audience. I trust my life to strangers more than to the people I love. I can't keep a diary these days either, my words just do not come out in private. I can only wear my heart on my sleeve nowadays. Have I become an exhibitionist?

The truth is that I am finding it harder and harder to be at my mother's house. It used to be the best place in the world, this house. Really it was. It was the horn of plenty. Food, love, fun, it was all here. Too much of everything. The good life to the point of overkill sometimes. But like an over-ripe mango it has just gone past its sweetness and has become messy and a little disgusting. I can see so much truth now, so much reality it hurts. This place is like a cracked mirror and I can see a completely disfigured version of my life that is grotesque and a little scary. It has become a source of hopelessness and it overwhelms me. I don't want to lose this place, but it's already gone, and I can't let it go, but I want it to be gone.

I wonder why I come here, why I stay for so long and why I do what I do. I love my mother, I want to help her. I have always wanted to help her, and I always have helped her. I hope I always will. I have always cleaned things for her, done her super disgusting jobs and sorted out her mess. She has always showered me with love and support and gifts and generosity and the only way I have ever been able to repay her is with my amazing cleaning and organising skills. It's one of the few things I feel confident about, these skills. I might even boast about them. I kick ass when it comes to organising.

I have also learned in the last few years that I am a natural helper. I am constantly offering people my help, sometimes when people don't want it. I am a helpful person. Just yesterday I was at the hardware store and in the queue in front of me was a dad with two little girls. He had two bulky boxes and some smaller items and he told the lady at the check-out he would have to come back for one box as he was unable to carry both boxes to the car. So I offered to carry one, and helped him and his girls to their car.

I hold doors, lifts, hands, secrets.

I care. I just do. And I wish everybody did. That's one of the things I love about my friend Phiroze. He's super helpful, I think he is even more helpful than I am. Everybody needs help with things, and if only everybody used some of their skills to just help other people, we'd be more connected, more grateful and probably happier.

Nearly everything I do is helping people. I haven't really realised that until just now. I am here to help my mum, to help Phizz pack for the US, the help my friend Emily prepare for her baby. My current job is a helpful job. Looking after other people's children is one of the most helpful things one can do, I think. I tidy up, I do dishes, I fold clothes. I help my husband with his renovations to our house, I help him with his presentations and his reviews for work. I help my mother-in-law with her computer related questions. I help my friends with things all the time. I help my sister with handyman jobs. It's not hard. It's easy. I want to do those things. It makes people happy. I want to make people happy.

But it's not easy when I need help. Because the help I need is not necessarily easily available. I could really use some help to build my confidence when it comes to finally starting my career. I would love a coach. I would love to know how to network better. The difficulties for me are not really ones that helpfulness would sort out, like my citizenship issues, my finances, my split life. I need emotional help. Hahaha, god that sounds a bit sad. I need emotional support. And quality stuff, I want people to really care. Sometimes I feel that people don't care as much about me as I care about them. I know it's a common feeling, I am not alone in that.

Maybe I am a needy person. I think I might be. I am clingy and needy. It's embarrassing but true. When I meet new people that I like I can be like a puppy. I want to be cuddled all the time. I want people to want to be with me. I want to be the most amazing company. And I want to hear it. I often tell people that they are awesome, because I know it's a nice thing to hear. I don't hear it often enough. But maybe I just need to hear it more often than I others. I don't know.

Anyway. I best get off the computer. There's jobs that need to be done. 

Amsterdam Days

Well, that was fun. I have spent some wonderful days in Amsterdam this week, mostly hanging out with good friends, my cousin and my sister. I spent two of them playing tour guide, which was fine, except of course for the fact that I know very little about Amsterdam. But I know little quirky facts and I guess I know my way to the most interesting landmarks.

One place that I discovered for the first time myself with my friend Dunja, who had just landed from Melbourne wednesday morning, is the new Public Library of Amsterdam. It's a really great building with wonderful architecture, and there are floors and floors of books, music and films. I really enjoyed the children's section, where there is a very large dolls house, or rather, mouse house made by Karin Schaapman with more than a hundred different little rooms and mice. It was amazing.

I spent more time than usual just roaming around Amsterdam and pointing out its loveliness, and the more I see it, the more I appreciate its beauty and quirk. Amsterdam is a nice city. It's old and cute and amazing.  The Dutch are a funny folk and our language is ridiculously tricky and silly. I wish I had had my bike with me, though and I was so pleased Dunja and I got to ride rental bikes for a few hours on our lovely day together. I have really come to the realisation this year that they only way I really enjoy seeing a city is by bike. I am a bike person. Walking starts to hurt my feet way too quickly and it's way too slow. Yes you can appreciate the streets and sights a bit better on foot, but when you ride, you can always stop and take a short walk around if you see something you like. Bike beats walking for me hands down.

I also really enjoyed seeing my best and oldest friend Emily who is only two months away from giving birth to her first child. This time last year we were talking about how we were far off having children, but Emily's child had other plans! If you have followed my blog regularly you will know I am currently more likely to say I will never have children myself, and that though I find them amazing and fun, I would not want to have them around all day every day. I have the utmost respect for people who can manage their own happiness and that of their family. I struggle to get out of bed and put one foot after another some days, and to have to manage children at a time like that seems impossible. And the biggest worry I have about having children is that my family is all here, and many of my friends, and I would have to travel with my children if I want them to know these people. Shudder. I find flying 24 hours by myself hard enough as my tolerance for anything seems to not travel with me, let alone tolerance for tired and cranky children.

But all around, my friends increasingly bring those little people into their lives (and inevitably mine), it's what people my age do. And the truth is that your friendship changes. Children claim all the attention. They need it. They have so many questions, they want to know everything, they are amazingly observant and fantastically curious. But sometimes I want all their mum's attention for myself. Luckily Emily and I have talked extensively about this phenomenon and she's very aware of the changes her little one will bring along. To be honest I cried when she told me she was pregnant. And not out of joy. I have very few friends left who are not bound to a child. She understood, though, and of course it took me very little time to become excited and happy for her. I have to say pregnancy has given her a strength I have not seen in her before, a confidence, a content enriching her whole being and life. I am thrilled for her. It's amazing what a person who has not yet been born can do!  

I'll be heading back to Amsterdam soon, to help Phizz with getting ready to move to the US and an expense report, and also to see my friends and sister as much as I can. I will also attempt to do some exercise there at a gym and hopefully ride a bike. I feel at home in Amsterdam these days. And I am beginning to know my way around which is awesome, especially when riding. I no longer have to stop at every street corner to check on google maps whether I'm going in the right direction.

Today is a really wet rainy cold day and Mum and I are doing chores around the house. I am also playing a ridiculous amount of Rumble (an iPhone words game) both in Dutch and English which is good for my bilinguality. According to my spellchecker that's not a word, but you know what I mean.

So my dear readers, that'll be all. I have to say my last few posts have hardly been as good and witty as I would like my blog to be, but it's just the way it is. I miss my words. They used to come so easily, but we had a messy breakup (a stranger interfered with our relationship) and now we don't always connect the way we used to. It still hurts. Anyway. Ciao.

Home

Hey. It's Thursday morning, the first day of my new health regime, as I sip my fresh OJ and eat muesli before I head to the gym. The last four weeks have been an absolutely wonderful time filled with fun and food, oh, glorious food! Italy does know how to feed its visitors. They serve cakes and biscuits for breakfast, need I say more?

Last night we dropped my wonderful husband off at the airport and he is flying home as we speak. Or, as I write, I should say. (I do wish people would 'speak' back more!) It was very quiet and empty coming home without him, I have had a full month of spending all day with him, something which I have not had since we were on our honeymoon three years ago. And I can honestly say I love him more than ever before. We have had so much fun, travelling in foreign countries in a rental car can be stressful, and spending so much time together can lead to frustrations, but not with us. We have just been so happy. We are still super happy. I have to say that I think we're more in love now than we were on our honeymoon, we have grown more in our relationship, learnt more about each other's happiness and always make an effort to make sure the other is ok when things get dicey. It's a great relationship and I feel really blessed.

I am once again at my mother's dining table, where I have written most of my 'Return to the Nesterlands' blog. It's a good place to write. It's home in many ways. But every year my house in Australia feels more like home to me in many other ways: it's full of the things that make my life wonderful and easy, it's where Ash and I are happy together. I miss that feeling of ease and comfort when I'm away. But it always helps to be reminded of all the lovely things you have that you might otherwise take for granted. I love my  Tefal pans. I love my comfy couch. Etc.

Life here is a little less relaxing. I have to admit I feel anxious about what is going to happen if this house never sells. A lot of my mother's things are in storage, and the house was clean and presentable (to a point of display home tidiness) after I had finished all my work last year. But the house has not remained that way, because nobody can live in a display home. Everyday life happens, dogs join the family, and cats move into bathrooms. My mother will be the first to admit she is not a person with much discipline when it comes to housekeeping and a slobbery dog that is very fond of going into smelly ditches and ponds does not help either. I find it hard to live in a messy house which perpetually has sand and dirt on the floor, even after I have just vacuumed and mopped.

Let's just say I have a lot of work to do. People are always envious when I tell them how long I go to Europe for. But the honest truth is that it's not all lounging around wonderful countries and eating glorious food. The majority of the time I am trying to help my mother adjust to a lifestyle of getting by with very little money and it's not easy at all. For either of us it's hard to keep an eye on every cent we spend. We like to go out and share food, we like to treat people, we like to buy people presents, we like to buy ourselves presents. We've done that all of our lives. It's hard to reign in your enthusiasm. But we're getting there.

Now, it's also time to bring some discipline back to my body, which has not seem much exercise in the last month. So I'm off to the gym and hopefully get back to a shape which fits into my jeans a bit more comfortably. At the moment they're a bit tight! Luckily the weather is warm enough for skirts at the moment so I'm ok for a while.

More soon. x

When the sun returns

Hi team! Keeping it short today I think. There is too much to write about, I cannot remember when I last wrote and I have just settled down on a seat in the sun (yes, the sun! I have not seen it for three days) and it seems the wifi doesn't quite reach my spot. So I've loaded my 'posting' page and am writing this here in my sunny spot, and then I'll move back to the wifi zone and post it. An error message keeps popping up every time it tries to save my post, so that's a bit annoying, but what can you do. I. do. not. want. to. move. out. of. the. sun!

I am currently in a very heavenly place called Villa Dianella. It's a very nice B&B in the north of Tuscany, and it is the first place where I absolutely LOVE the accommodation. Our suite (the sage suite) is not only very large (3 rooms - the bathroom is larger than the sitting room!), but also very nicely decorated and it has wifi, plus a beautiful view, and it also has complimentary biscuits, chocolate and tea in the common room. It has gorgeous gardens and it is overall just a very lovely place.

That doesn't mean our previous locations have not been nice, they have all been nice. I have to say my husband has chosen well. So far we've spent one night in a 'normal' hotel in Florence near the train station, two nights in a nice B&B in the Florentine hills, one night in the cute little medieval town of San Gimignano and two nights in Villa Barberino where we spent a while on our honeymoon.

 However, I am sad to say, Villa Barberino was not as glorious as we remember it, which was mostly because of the weather. It was cold and wet the whole time we were there! The pool, which was too cold to use anyway, was being restored so we couldn't even take a picture of it, and though we booked a suite this time which was much nicer than our previous room, it was also at the far end of the property, which is fine when you stroll in the lovely sun, but if you need to get to your car in the pouring rain and it's a five minute walk it's not so pleasant. And the worst thing was the wifi. There was no internet in San Gimignano, which was fine, but another three days without internet when the weather is shit is really quite boring. I couldn't play Draw Something, I couldn't really blog, I couldn't read any other blogs, I couldn't check when the weather would improve, I couldn't do anything much. It's fine when you are told 'there is no wifi here', you accept that, you do something else. But when you are told 'there is free wifi here' and it DOESN'T WORK it is very frustrating! They had this annoying login thing where you were given a piece of paper with a login and a passcode, both of which were a sequence of 16 numbers, which you had to fill into a webpage and then it would give you 24 hours to use the web. If you wanted the countdown to stop, you had to log out. And you could only use one device per login. But even after logging out, it would simply not let you log back in and keep saying you were already logged in. I think I spent at least an hour each day trying to log back in and it never eventuated, and when reception no-speaka-di-english and are a five minute walk in the rain away you end up just giving up. Sigh.

Anyway, we did have fun when we went for a drive in the rain to a nearby castle called Castello di Brolio, where we did a really cool little tour of a tiny museum with armour and belongings of the family who have owned that castle since 1141. Yes, 1141! It was so super interesting, though it was very chilly walking around the grounds and gardens because the castle is located right on top of a hill (as happens often with castles) and the wind and rain were blowing a gale. But we enjoyed it. And then afterwards we visited a cute little town, also atop a hill (lots of hills here, as you can guess) called Volpaia where we had the most delicious and cheap bruschetta I have ever had, and some fresh OJ. Yum.

Food here is so delicious and really affordable, especially when compared to Provence or even Australia or Holland. We paid 12 euro for five big pieces bruschetta and two big glasses of OJ. And it was so tasty!

Anyway. San Gimignano is a favourite in our book, and it was awesome to stay there for the night, especially at the hotel where we had lunch last time on our honeymoon and awarded it the best dish of the trip back then and the view is also very stunning. So obviously we were keen to try it out for dinner this time. The food was great, the view was lovely (though the clouds were gathering) and the service amazing.

A funny thing happened at dessert time, I had ordered a moscato and when our waiter poured it, I thought I recognised the bottle from somewhere. As I started drinking it, I realised what it was, and that I love it, because it was the very first bottle of wine I had ever bought for myself on my 27th birthday! So I asked the waiter if I could please see the bottle so I could make a note of it and look for it on our tour of Italy. However, this specific waiter did-not-speaka-di-english-so-bueno and came back with a different moscato and another glass, poured it, and proceeded to pick up my old glass to take it away! Of course I made it immediately clear that NO! I LOVE THIS ONE! Confused, he gave me back my glass (phew) and let us keep the other one he poured and wandered of. Obviously he thought I did not like it and wanted another one! He never did bring us that bottle for me to look at, so after a while I drew the attention of another (younger) waiter who did speaka-di-english and told him what had happened, and if I could please see the bottle because I liked it so much. No problem, so he comes back with the moscato that the other waiter had poured to replace the original. No, sorry, wrong one, I want the one with the bird on the label? So back he comes, with the right bottle, and I take a picture of the label. Then this kind waiter says to me: 'Iffa you lika, I canne aske you canne buya di bottle fromme ouer stocka? Itta costa 15 euros?' So of course I said "YES PLEASE!" It was given to me after our meal, chilled and wrapped and ready to go. However, the weather wasn't right for Moscato on a terrace the last few days.

But here I am, sitting in a heavenly garden drinking that very Moscato. (It is from La Spinetta wines, by the way, Bricco Quaglia Moscato D'Asti. Super sweet and light, most of you would hate it!)

Anyway, adventures all around, pretty scenic drives everywhere, Tuscany being its gorgeous self, and the prospect of increasingly warmer weather is really not such a bad thing. Oh, and did I mention we have a 2012 Golf Cabrio (=convertible) as our rental car? Yah. It is amazing and sexy as!

I have to say, that our honeymoon three years ago in Tuscany was friggin' awesome. But this trip is even awesomer. I'm calling it our honeymoon 2.0. Fancier car, fancier accommodation, longer time to spend everywhere, a day and night in Monaco (Ashley has brought his James Bond suit & shoes for the occasion...) and we are more in love than ever. So I am going to give up the blogging and get ready for another lovely (no doubt) meal.

Arrivederci!

Florence + bike + Florence

So I forgot to mention a few interesting facts we learned about Florence on our bike tour - one of which is that Florence used to really stink and be full of shit, literally. And also that the famous bridge, the Ponte Vecchio, which is famous for its jewellery shops selling gold (I've dubbed it the Bridge of Bling) used to be home to lots of butchers, who would cut the meat right there and chuck all the leftover bits in the river below. Tasty. So from Bridge of Butchers to Bridge of Bling. Quite the upgrade.

Omar also showed us the spot where the golden ball which adorns the top of the Copula of the Duoma fell in the year 1600, it fell down in a great storm. Luckily no-one was injured. There's a white circular spot of marble in the paving there, but it's not marked any other way, so it was good to have a guide tell us interesting things like that. Here he is:

He also told us many interesting stories about many interesting people, all of whom lived a long, long time ago and had many long Italian names, and they not always made much sense to me as sometimes his accent got a bit thick. Italians talk very fast generally, so sometimes they're hard to follow. He told us though, which we thought was quite amusing, that whenever the Florentines don't know who made this statue or drew that picture, they always credit Michelangelo. He was considered superhuman. The Florentines are humble (for Italians) in comparisons to Rome, but are always proud and like to point out all the things that were invented in Florence and were first done here. Like architecture. Invented right here.  And Florence was always trying to improve itself, has always been a very forward thinking city and was once upon a time, from 1861 1866, the capital of Italy! Florence is a know genius. Direct quote from Omar. So I thanked him for the compliment.

Right, so after the awesome bike tour we got our things from the hotel and needed to find the bus to our nice B&B up on the hill, which Ash chose and booked. However, once again, he didn't really know where exactly it was, only that we needed to catch the 11 bus. He didn't know where to catch said bus, or in which direction, though. Once again I realised that though I complain about always having to organise everything, at least I know what to know. But, I must also note, that we once again found the right bus stop (though I wasn't convinced at the time) and got on a 11 bus, which got us up the right hill.  So the lesson I'm learning is that we will get where we want to go, and to not stress if I don't know where to go. It's a tricky lesson.

When we got to our B&B we got to choose our room, and I think we chose wisely - now two days later, because we chose a room at the back of the house and it turns out the road out the front gets very busy at peak hour. It's a nice leafy street, though, in the 'Beverly Hills' area of Florence.  And it has a lovely view.
We were pleased to find out the bikes they have here were free for us to use in the afternoon, so after we settled in and changed out of shoes into strappy sandals and a t-shirt because it was such a warm afternoon, we hopped on the bikes. My feet were sooooo pleased to be out of those shoes!

We rode to San Miniato di Monte, a lovely cathedral on a nearby hill, with an amazing view and an amazing ceiling.  It is also surrounded by quite an impressive cemetery.

We rode on to the Piazza Michelangelo, another hill further along, where there was another impressive view of Florence and another church, not quite so impressive. It was a lovely afternoon for bike riding and my feet we so happy to not be rubbing in those shoes, that we decided to take a detour on the way home to the Fort Belvedere, which is unfortunately closed indefinitely since a lady fell to her death there four years ago. The ride back to the B&B was a bit tiresome so we took a break before riding into town for some pizza and gelato. Both establishments I found using the Tripadvisor app, which I highly recommend. The gelato was amazing! Here's Ash about to enjoy his - caramel and cheescake flavours! I had Nutella and Mascapone and Hazelnut. So delicious.

However, all the fun ended when Ash convinced me to take the short route home. By this stage my bum had gotten sore from the saddle and I was tired. The short way home was also the steep way home, you see and it ended up being a long walk home. Well, some of the way. By the time we got home, it was shower, blog and bed. Which is exactly what I've done tonight as well. But that's a story for another night. Or maybe tomorrow morning? Buonanotte!  

Queen's Day Part II + Florence

Man, so much has happened in the last 24 hours, most of them so memorable that I want to write about them right away, but I better stick to the chronological order of things as I tend to forget events about as quickly as I experience them.

So I ended yesterday with Monday's Queen's Day events, when Ash and I had had a quick catch up with out Dutch friends who own an amazing woonboot on the Prinsengracht. We've already had some fun adventures on that boat in our lives, by the way, but that was before I blogged. Maybe I'll write about it another time when I don't have so many other exciting things to write about.

After that we really just very slowly walked around a very orange and festive Amsterdam, until about 3 pm when my feet were getting blisters and tired and Ash and I made our way back to my sister's to pack our stuff and take a tram and train back to Brabant. It had been an amazingly sunny and warm day and by this time I was very tired, very very tired, but I didn't manage to sleep in the train as it was full of noisy Queen's Day revellers and we had to change trains twice. By the time we reached Elsendorp with Mum it was nearly half past seven and we were all too tired and hungry to cook so we ate at the local pub, which has very decent food. Then it was packing the tired way.

Packing the tired way is very slowly and quite ineffectively. We flew Ryanair so we had to keep our bags under a specific weight: two check in bags under 15 kilos and two hand luggage under 10 - which were not allowed to have liquids (ie toiletries) in them, and we had two pairs of shoes that had to go in a hard case so they wouldn't get squashed, etc. It was like a mathematics question and it took us too long to figure out. There were things to print out, things to check on the web, some stuff in the dryer not to forget, a shower was also necessary and it wasn't until after 11 that we finally got to sleep. But not for long.

Six twenty am we are woken by thunder and rain, just before the alarm clock. We had to catch a 9.05 am flight to Pisa, which was fine, I dozed off a few times on the plane but not enough to feel any less tired. When we got to Pisa is was unfortunately quite grey. Or as the pilot put it: "A few degrees warmer than back home, but otherwise the same". We remembered where the train station was from our honeymoon and this time didn't need to line up at the ticket office in the arrivals hall, as we knew there's ticket machines at the station. Which often speak better English than people behind counters. It was quite full on the platform and when the train arrived I almost had to laugh: it was one carriage. One carriage with one double door in the middle, through which quite a lot of travellers had to squeeze, up four seriously steep steps, with luggage, which had to be placed in overhead racks. Even the heavy big ones. Yes. Welcome to Italy!

We made our connection to Florence in time, but this was also a very full train, and sleeping wasn't an option here either. When we got to Florence, I was hot and tired and hungry and consequently not in the best of moods. So when we got out of the station and my husband, who had taken charge of the organising on the trip, did not know where the hotel was or how to get there. This, I must say, did not go down too well with me. I am always extremely organised and look things up on the internet and google maps and save stuff to my phone so I know where to go. Not everybody is like that, though. Not everybody. But, we got to the hotel eventually, it wasn't too far from the station, and though it was a bit chillier than in Pisa, it wasn't raining like it was back home. By the time we got to our room, which was quite comfortable, I didn't know which I needed more: sleep, food or a panadol. Sleep won out, I lay down on the bed just for a moment and I was gone.

After a decent snooze we went out to find food. Unfortunately I had only brought the pair of All Star shoes I had worn the day before and it wasn't nice walking in them again with blisters, but I persevered. Ash had chosen a church not too far from our hotel to visit, the Santa Maria Novelle, which we found easily, though by this stage it had started raining a little. Lucky for us the piazza on which it was located had some great little food stalls because it was a public holiday and we found some cheap yummy things to eat. Then we visited the church, which was lovely. When we came out, it was pouring down. I was still tired and my blisters didn't enjoy the walking so we made our way back, and discovered the church's amazing ancient pharmacy and perfumery, which was very pretty, around the corner.

When we got back to the hotel my shoes were soaked and my feet were sore, so we rested a little bit and I called my mum. After a while it seemed like it was starting to clear up outside so I used the blow dryer to dry my shoes as best as I could and we ventured out into a sunny, drying Florence. We found a nice quiet place for a plate of decent, cheap pasta and went for a short stroll around, finding another nice little church along the way.

I was very pleased, though, when we finally got to go to sleep that night.

In the morning it was sunny, and it promised to be a nice day. We were going to visit the duomo but decided to go for the bike tour instead, considering the sunny weather and my sore feet. When we got to the place that did the bike tours we were sad to find they no longer had the flags on their bikes like they did last time we were in Florence as they said I (heart) Florence, with a bike in the heart. We took the  photo below last time, and I wish we had been able to take the tour then as we spent five hours walking around and as you might have figured out by now, I don't particularly like walking. 

But this time, we had planned four days in Florence which meant we had time for the bike tour, and it was awesome. We were the only ones on the tour, so it was personalised and the guide was great fun. When I introduced myself as Florence he laughed and said 'Well, I'm New York!' and I quipped that my husband, who was in the toilet, was called Amsterdam. We set off on our bikes, in the lovely morning sun, and had a great tour, including a lovely gelato in front of Palazzo Piti. Omar, the guide, recommended many great spots to visit on our own which many of which we have since then.

He also recommended a place for coffee, where Ash and I had lunch after our tour, and we went back to the hotel to gather our things so we could move to our next accommodation - a lovely B&B in the Florentine hills south of the city.

Oooh, it's dinner time, we have to go. Will publish this now and try and finish the rest of the story later. Pasta awaits!

Florence in Florence

Hey! So, I am now sitting in a lovely room with a lovely view in the Florentine hills, after having spent a lovely sunny day mostly riding a bike. I couldn't be more pleased, it was a lovely day.

Our Tuscan adventure didn't start quite so glorious, considering we had had quite the weekend in Amsterdam before and we were exhausted, plus it rained. You see, it was Queens Day on Monday, which meant it was Q-night the night before which means party time. I myself am not much of a partier, I prefer coffees with friends, but hey, I managed to have that earlier in the day. Perhaps I should begin at the beginning?

Sunday morning we took a train to Amsterdam, where we made it to my sister's lovely apartment and I was quick to drag my husband to Screaming Beans for my first delicious coffee since leaving Melbourne. It was delicious. We went for a stroll through the lovely area called De Negen Straatjes (The Nine Little Streets) where my sister lives and made our way to a little diner I remember from last year called Het Buffet van Odette for lunch. Since last year, however, it has gone through a bit of an upgade and moved to an even fancier location in the city and grown considerably in size. It took us a bit longer than I had expected to get there and when we arrived we were told they were no longer serving lunch as they were closing early for Queens Day. But when I told them we had walked there especially from their old location because I remembered how nice it was and wanted to introduce the place to my husband, we were told we were very welcome and looked after very nicely. The food, as I remembered it, was fantastic. The new space they now occupy is also very nice, though a bit less rustic and cute than their former location, it's now quite fancy!

We then made our way to the Westergasterras, a restaurant/bar in the Westerpark where I had organised some drinks to catch up with some of my lovely friends and family in Holland, however Ajax (Amsterdam's soccer team) was playing and mysteriously nobody showed up until after the game...It was lovely to see everyone.

That evening we planned to tag along with my sister and her friends to a party at Hanneke's Boom but when we got there, it was already packed out and we were not ever getting in. So we ended up drinking in on the Nieuwmarkt and later made our way down the Zeedijk and ended up in Amsterdam's smallest and oldest gay bar called 't Mandje. This is where we were when the clock struck midnight and the barman rang the bell and requested we all sing happy birthday. After singing it, Stella asked: "Who's birthday is it?" Why, the queen, you dill! We were offered a shot of Oranje Bitter by the bar lady. Ash sniffed it and said it smelled quite nice. To which she responded: "Smells nice, tastes like shit."
To be honest, it wasn't too bad.

We ended up on the street a little further down, couldn't go any further as there were drag queens putting on a show (which we couldn't really see but hear all the better) and that's where we ate some lukewarm, sauce drenched but delicious spring rolls and I was told by a rotund policeman that I was boring for choosing to stay sober to look after my friends...

Not long after that Ash and I headed home, I had been up since 6 am thanks to my jetlag, so I was dead tired. We walked back to my sister's, a good 20 minute walk, and totally crashed around 3 am. My sister and her friend came back around 4.30, but we were all sitting eating a very delicious breakfast prepared by Stella around 10 am! Some lovely freshly squeezed OJ, eggs and bacon with tomato and cheese, crusty rolls from the oven, a cup of tea and an espresso later and we all felt ready for the day ahead. Outside my sister's place on on the Naussaukade the party was beginning...

The gang having their first taste of beer out on the town.

Nassaukade warming up for the day

Our friends' little girl playing her recorder, her brother in the background.

The white woonboat on the right is our friends' one!

Busy on the Prinsengracht

Ash and I walked around the area and made a tour through a small part of the Vondelpark before we realised it really was quite warm and we were in need of some water, so we headed back to Stella's, where we met some of her friends and all of us went out into the now full-on party that was Amsterdam. It was slow going at times, and I am guilty of sining along to 'Een eigen huis' while squeezing through a massive crowd in front of a stage. We had a quick hug and chat with our good friends who own a woonboot (houseboat) on the Prinsengracht and were informed their kids (9 and 6) were raking in stacks of coins with their respective games-stall and flute playing. There is a chance I might get to stay on that boat for a little bit later on...

















Oh dear, in the meantime I've run out of time to write. It's late and Ash has already gone to sleep and it's early days tomorrow. I shall continue my story of Queens Day and Tuscany tomorrow. A domani!

No picnic

Hey. Sorry, it's been a long while. I've had a very busy time as is normal before a big trip.

I'm sitting in the late evening sun at my mother's dining table in the Netherlands. We've been here for three days now, my husband and I, and I have to admit it feels much longer. There is so much work that needs doing here still, and there were some logistic and boring affairs to sort out, like buying a new sim card for my phone and applying for a new pincode for my bank card.

Also, Ash and I had the interesting task of replacing seatbelts and a rear light cover for my mother's car, the dog had decided he liked eating seatbelts. He chewed right through two of them, one of them being the driver's, and I was horrified to find out my mother has been driving around since mid-December with a piece of string holding up her seatbelt, while it no longer held any tension or would have offered her any protection in case of an accident. And she managed to back into a fence and break the cover for her rear lights on one side, but luckily they still worked.

Life here has changed a little since I left last - our poor old cat has taken refuge upstairs when the big black monster arrived on the scene. Mum's dog Joep is adorable, disobedient and into everything. He is very big, and very dirty and very slobbery - he likes to jump in every body of water he encounters on his walks and so he perpetually stinks. Subsequently, the house always smells of wet dog and is covered in mud. However, my mother now walks thee times a day for at least half an hour at a time, and she has a friend in her house who never gets enough cuddles. Sure he's destructive to the extent of frustration, but he's part of the family.

Our poor old cat has gone blind since I last was here, and it has really made her world much smaller. She spends most of the day sleeping on the chair in the bathroom, where she also eats and has her litter box. She no longer sits in window sills because she can't see what's outside anyway, and it makes me very sad. She still really loves cuddles, but she won't come down for them. So I go and spent time with her in the bathroom. I have obtained a few serious bites on my hand as her nails constantly get stuck in things, because she can't retract them anymore. So when she get stuck on your shirt, and you try to dislodge her nail, she hisses and bites and screams. So I ended up cutting her nails while my poor husband held the screeching, angry, scared thing in his arms. But now she doesn't get stuck anymore so that's a good thing.

On Thursday we went to look for the things that needed replacing on the car, and found a wrecker's not too far away that had all of the bits we needed, so yesterday my very capable husband fixed everything so that my mum's car is now safe to drive again. I also updated my mother's sat nav, cleared her computer of unnecessary software that she accidentally downloads and cleaned and re-organised her kitchen cupboards. I have also vacuumed several times, cleaned out the cat's litter box and mopped the floor in the bathroom. So it's not exactly a holiday quite yet. But we're leaving for Amsterdam this afternoon and we're off to Tuscany on Tuesday!

I feel a bit sorry for my husband as there's really nothing exciting here for him, but it does force him to relax and read books and play sudoku. He's not very good at relaxing normally so I think it's not a bad thing to start off a holiday in a very boring place.

Of course, there is one exciting thing here and that's food. Glorious Dutch food, that tastes of home and childhood and happiness. I thoroughly enjoyed our shop at the best supermarket in the world: Albert Heijn. I made my shopping list on its iPhone app called 'Appie' while we were walking the dog. The app, which I have written about last year, is fantastic. And then being in a pleasant, neat supermarket with great products was also fantastic. And buying and eating all this delicious food for the last few days is even more fantastic.

But I better get going, between starting this post and actually finished it, it is now saturday morning and my husband is preparing my breakfast. After which, I am going to do Zumba at my Dutch gym, which I love. I am very excited! You'll hopefully hear from me again soon. 

Reno Girl

Hi friends. It's sunday 6 pm, and I've just given myself permission to declare that work is over for today. For the last three days it's been renovation central at our house, and in case you don't know this about me: I hate renovating. We've only been renovating this house for the last...oh seven years. Or more. Feels like more.

Anyway, I am sore all over, I am tired and I have had enough. Today is easter sunday, so luckily we got to spend the morning making a nice breakfast for my mother-in-law who joined us and then afterwards, the sweetheart, she stayed to help a bit. And my father-in-law has been here the last two days helping out, too. Very kind, but very crazy people to submit themselves willingly to a task I detest and can sometimes not see the end of.

I've just made myself a sub-standard latte (I have a coffee-snobbish-streak, I'm sure you'll hear more about that another time) and permitted myself to eat two small squares of dark chocolate as a treat. At dinner time. Well, it is easter after all. But hubby is still up on a ladder in the fading daylight, hell-bent on getting these last weatherboards up. And luckily we still have a whole day-old pizza in the fridge from yesterday, because I seriously don't feel like cooking. I put home made vietnamese rice-paper rolls on the menu for friday, but every night I am too tired to even stand up, let alone do it in the kitchen while simultaneously moving my arms in a manner that produces a dinner. Really, I am beat.

Might also have something to do with the fact that the part of the house we are working on at the moment is our bedroom, and we are currently sleeping on the floor in the spare room. It was only going to be for a few nights, but now it's looking like those few nights might be more like a lot of nights, so I'm considering actually putting the spare bed back together so we can at least sleep in a bed. But I'd have to gather the energy to do said job, and that might be tricky.

Anyway, tomorrow is the last day that hubby is home to go crazy with the renovations (he gets up way too early, puts his work gear on and stares at me while I try to finish my breakfast before I've even properly woken up) and then on Tuesday it's me and the house alone again. Which is fine by me. If I'm correct I might even have a few hours of work on Tuesday, and I also have to visit my dentist for a check-up. It'll be nice to see my little friend Ruby again, who is my job on Tuesdays. In case you don't know this about me either: I am currently a part-time nanny and look after seriously cute kiddies. Ruby is nearly two and hilarious company. But they've been away for a couple of weeks and I've missed hanging out with Ruby and her mum, who is also very good company and whom I consider a friend.

Excuse me for a moment while I go put the big work light outside for my husband. He eats a lot of carrots and tends to do things in the dark, but I prefer him not to fall off a ladder two weeks before our long-awaited holiday to Europe.

There. Better. I can hear him out there with the saw and can only admire his drive to do this mammoth job all by himself. Well, you know, with the help of his begrudging wife, who only helps because she's so friggin' over the renovations that she'll do anything to let them be over, including sanding and painting, my two least favourite jobs. I quite enjoy hammering stuff and I'm actually quite into destroying things, but neither of those will finish the house on their own. I enjoyed ripping weatherboards off the walls. And I had good fun pulling our old kitchen and bathroom apart a few years back, as they were horrid and old and irritated me every day I used them. Now I do have an amazing kitchen and bathroom. Both of which I love and feel grateful for every day that I use them. Especially my kitchen, with its soft-close drawers, all neatly organised perfectly, everything within reach, fully equipped and colour co-ordinated. Oh yes. It is like that. I think my kitchen is the best I know. I am spoiled with it, and when I have to use other people's kitchens I feel sorry for the owners of them, and I am constantly missing vital tools and gadgets for making the simplest meals. Like sharp knives. I don't know many people who have sharp knives, which makes me wonder why. Them's for cuttin' things, no? Maybe because a lot of kitchens I frequent are in the houses of people with children and they wouldn't want their little sprouts to accidentally cut themselves in the unlikely event that said sprouts would manage to get to said knives? Who knows.

I digress. Yes, I know, I do that. Sorry.

I don't actually think I was getting to a point, but who cares. Right?

Conclusion is, I detest renovating, but I love the result. Our house is becoming seriously wonderful. I mean, I have a laundry chute in my bathroom that leads straight into my laundry cupboard, who else has that, I ask you?  Pity it's still in one of the least nice suburbs of lovely Melbourne. To call Reservoir 'not nice' might be an understatement. It's pretty bad. It's too far out of town, it has NO character and the shops are terrible. Oh and the crime rate here is about as high as the Eureka tower. But you know, we now have two reasonably nice cafes that serve decent coffee, which we didn't have six months ago, so who knows what the future hold for old Ressa?

Ok, I better go. It is now pitch dark out there and I can still hear a lot of banging. I think hubby has got to the hammering part of the job and I might go and see if I can lend him a hand. I am ok with a hammer.

Easter egg

Isn't it funny how when you've accepted something, are embracing the way something is, letting the worry slide away, suddenly something shifts and the wind changes and you're not so sure things are like they are and maybe you were wrong?

Two things have resolved itself in quick succession, and the sun has just been out for days, giving me hope, warmth and joy. I can't really feel glum at the moment. Less than two weeks ago, I was feeling hopeless and useless and weak, and today I feel light. Happy. At peace.

I got a call yesterday from the General Manager of the School of Humanities and Social Sciences, a very nice lady who called to personally apologise for the amount of time it has taken to process my application, to talk to me, and listen to my feedback on my experience, and to welcome me to the university. It was really all I had wanted to hear for months, just an apology, some understanding from the university, some acknowledgement for my ordeal.

And this morning, my Dutch passport arrived, a week earlier than I had expected. I had some worry about how long it would take, as I wouldn't be able to go to Europe without it. And it's less than three weeks until we go. I'm excited.

And it's easter soon. Hot cross buns. Easter eggs. Hubby home for four days. The fact that we're spending the long weekend renovating is ok. I am planning a nice easter brunch for sunday.

Detour Girl

I'm not sure if it's always been this way in my life, but recently it has become very clear. Nothing in my life is straight-forward. For some unknown reason everything I try to achieve has to come with some challenge, a spanner in the works, something to overcome. My path is full of detours.

For someone who enjoys driving at the speedlimit, hates slow drivers, dislikes walking because it's inefficient, and likes to shop by walking in, purchasing what's needed and then leaving, detours can be very frustrating. If there is one thing I love it's efficiency. Strange that I am Dutch and not German since they are meant to be the most efficient people, but there you have it.

My love for efficiency has also sparked my love for gadgets. I love my iPhone and all its nifty apps. Now there are apps that are efficient, and there are apps that are the opposite of efficient. Useless, I guess is the word. The Albert Heijn (Dutch supermarket chain) app is terrific as it has cut out the need to write a shopping list, as I tell it what I need, or scan barcodes, but I can also write it online and send it to my phone, or my mother for that matter. The Coles and Woolworths (Australian supermarket chains) are opposite of that. They drive me nuts and I still write a paper shopping list as it's impossible to make a list with them.

I digress. What I'm trying to say is that I have come to understand that this is how my life is. I decide on something, take the required action, and instead of getting what I think I will achieve, I am given a challenge. Often this challenge involves giving all control over to something other than myself and wait patiently. I have just been accepted to university. Again. It only took over four months between me applying, and actually being accepted. A normal person applies, is offered a place or rejected and then starts uni within two months at the most. Not me.

But that's ok. It just means I'm forced to be resourceful, patient and accepting. Which I am slowly becoming. I am starting to embrace my out-of-the-boxness, my square-peg-round-holeness and enjoy my uniqueness. For one, my life is never boring. Never ever.  Despite the many infuriating, exhausting, frustrating challenges I am thrown on a regular basis, I am happy.

Really I am. Look, I might get disheartened quite quickly, have a melancholy streak the size of Uluru, and I can get to a point of endless tears and wanting to stay in bed for the rest of my life. But when I get out of bed eventually, I just get on with life. Because I know that things will be ok eventually. I have learned that in my 31 years being Florence Camille Nulens on planet earth.

I have an amazing life. I travel to Europe every year. I always get to skip at least one month of Melbourne's tedious winter to spend time with my wonderful family and friends in Europe. I know cities on the other side of the world, know my way around, feel at home there. I speak several languages, my French might not be fluent, but I know how to order off a menu, and in France that is the most important thing, right? Granted I spend the rest of the year away from family and friends which can be so very lonely at Christmas time, but that is the other side of the coin.

I have a wonderful husband, and a house that is becoming increasingly wonderful. Sure there have been times where I was very close to hopping on a plane and leaving that perfectionist husband and his goddamn endless renovations behind, but truthfully, I always come back. In the end, there is no one I am more comfortable with than with my lovely hubby. He enables me to be this very unique and out-of-the-box girl. He is steady, secure, thorough. And that's just want a girl like me needs.

We have a very comfortable life, with travel, nice things, outings, food on the table, and a relationship that is a source of endless happiness. So despite my uniqueness, I still get to have what everybody wants. And that's pretty goddamn lucky. 

Attempted changeling

It was monday, when I had lunch with a very dear friend whom I see too little of, that she told me to make a list. I had to visualise myself as I want my life to be. And write that down in present tense. She told me that the universe only provides for people who are convinced they deserve the good they get. If you keep sending negative thoughts out about what you get, and consider yourself unworthy, then you're not going to succeed.

That does make some sense. And since that conversation I suddenly notice every time I have a negative thought, stop myself and try to change it into a positive. But friggin' hell, I have a lot of negative thoughts! Where does that come from? Why are humans prone to self doubt and feelings of unworthiness? You never see a bird pondering whether they're worthy of that lovely nest they built or the mate they have, right?

It kind of works. Thinking in successful positives. I say them aloud and feel like a right knob, but it does seem to work. As most of my friends and family know, I like to drive at the speed limit and slow/bad drivers are the bane of my existence. I now often say 'this slow driver WILL move into the other lane' and it does happen. Or 'this slow driver WILL suddenly realise the speed limit is 70 and not 50' and that worked too.

I had to be at the Dutch consulate yesterday at 1.15 pm, but as the parking in the city is extremely expensive and hard to find I decided to drive and find a free park in Fitzroy and catch the tram for the last bit. So I said as I was driving 'I WILL find a 3 hour park, I WILL catch the next tram into town and I WILL get to my appointment on time.' I said it several times. It's not unusual for me to talk in my car by myself. But usually I'm having imaginary conversations with the slow and terrible drivers on the road around me. They go a bit like this: 'Gramps, please, move into the slow lane!' Or 'Come on, nanna, you can make it to sixty, really, you can do it! Just press the accelerator down a little more! You can do it!'

But yesterday I did find a 3 hour park, caught the tram easily and made it to my appointment on time with no hassles. So, I don't know whether it was luck or the power of my positive thoughts, but I am going to accredit it to my positive thinking, because that's how this deal works, right?

It's hard though. I have a lot of things that I feel very negatively about. I am quite upset about a few things that have happened to me. And surely that's natural. It feels like the things I strive for can never just happen as I would like them, there always has to be some sort of obstacle or blockage that stops things from happening. My friend is convinced I am the one blocking myself but I am not convinced of that. Why would I sabotage my own happiness? I feel worthy of happiness. I do.

I do feel happy, actually. Most of the time. I just get very frustrated with the many challenges I keep getting faced with, and it's hard not to get discouraged. Or depressed.

But enough of that. It's a sunny day and I have work to do. 

Duality

I went to get my Dutch passport renewed today. It was a little strange, because I am quite sure everyone at the consulate spoke Dutch, but we all spoke English to each other. I found that weird. But oh well. They had to take a photo for my passport, and after I spent a good time after the gym this morning fixing my hair and my fringe in particular, I was asked to push all my hair to the side, my forehead had to be visible. The resulting photo is woeful! That's going to be in my passport for years! Sigh.

There was a big poster in the Dutch consulate of the Keukenhof, a permanent tulip garden, which is about a 10 minute bike ride from the town I grew up in. It made me smile and think if the tulip fields I used to ride my bike past every spring. I can't remember the last time I was at the Keukenhof. At least 20 years ago.

I then went and had a coffee and a baguette at the Commercial Bakery, which I had found by using my Good Cafe Guide app from The Age. I am always keen to find good coffee. And I love it when apps are helpful. The coffee was good and the baguette was delicious. It was nice to be in the CBD, tucking into something delicious in a hidden laneway. It was very Melbourne. It made me think about my dual life. I am so Melbourne, but I am also still quite Dutch. And I like that. It's not an easy life, but it's an interesting life.

I look forward to going back to Amsterdam. I have really fallen in love with that town last year. I was never that interested in it when I lived in Holland, and even after, when my sister moved there and loved it, I couldn't really be bothered with it. But last year, when I had lots of time to ride my bike along its lovely canals and enjoy its hidden gems, I really came to appreciate it.

I am the Dutchstralian, and that's the way I like it. 

Here's me.

Ok. Enough deleting posts because I get too self conscious about everything I write. I am done with feeling bad about stuff. I am done with all these challenges that life keeps throwing at me. In case life hasn't noticed, I am not very good at catching! Stop throwing curve balls, I am prone to dropping things!

I am done with feeling guilty. I am done with feeling bad.

I am done with letting my own thoughts convince me I am worthless.

I am done looking for my confidence in what other say/not say to or about me.

Here's who I am. In case you don't know me.

I have amazingly lovely hair. It's soft and silky and a beautiful brown with a sparkle of red if the light falls on it just so. My hairdresser told me on friday that I have amazing hair, and her colleague remarked it looks like a Sun Silk Ad. So. I have nice hair, just to start with.

I also look after my teeth very well. I floss and brush with love and care. My oral hygienist always compliments how well I care for my teeth. And she was really grateful I emailed her the details of the Lululemon outlet after telling her about it last week. Because I am good like that. I want to share good stuff with good people.

I am a good height, a healthy weight and I exercise with joy and regularity. I appreciate my body, I think it deserves looking after. I love dancing. It makes me feel good.

My favourite colour is green. My eyes are green. Green is a good, happy colour, and the little girls I look after always make sure I get the green plate and cup when we have lunch. Because they love me. I love that about them.

I am very quirky. I am endeared by little creatures and animated characters. Like Om Nom, pictured below. I also really like birds and squirrels. And owls. I really like owls. I have an amazing friend who always gets me cute animal gifts. She lives in Perth at the moment and I really miss her. But we speak on Skype regularly.

I really like kids. I have a job as a nanny, as I have done for the last six years. Kids are fabulous company.  They are always clear about their feelings, and will never hide their love for you. They are frank and funny and will always try to please you. But I am not ready to have my own, I am not sure I will ever be.

I have an amazing husband. We've been together for nearly eight years, and married for three. We are so different, but always agree on the important things. We make each other happy. And we always make an effort to connect when life pulls us in different directions or challenges us individually. We never argue. We disagree sometimes, but we never yell at each other or take things out on one another. If we say something hurtful to the other, and we know we have, we always apologise and remind the other that we're frustrated with the situation, not with the other. We will be that lovely old couple who are still in love in fifty years time.

My fingers and toes are nearly always cold. Poor circulation. I hate it. 

I really love my family. They are very far away from me, but they are constantly on my mind and always in my heart. I worry about my mother a lot at the moment. She has diabetes, is financially in a bit of a pickle and has a very naughty dog who at the same time is a great friend to her and gets her walking in the woods. She loves walking in the woods. I haven't met the dog yet. But I think he suits our family, because he's a bit crazy like the rest of us. My mother is the warmest, most generous person I have ever met. She has taught me the most important lesson in life: It's better to learn from something that you have done than to regret not having done something. She also has taught me to savour amazing moments in life. And she's taught me how to relax to the fullest and enjoy it. Do you know how many people don't know how to relax? 

I have a really cool big sister who lives in Amsterdam. For years we didn't connect very well, but since she overcame her fear of flying to be my bridesmaid here in Australia, and we had time to spend together since then, we've become close. She has great taste in music, is a very loyal friend, she's gorgeous and funny and I really look up to her. She's my big sister and she rocks.

My extended family is also very dear to me, they are scattered across Europe and I love spending time with them. I try and see as much and as many of them as I possibly can when I go over there.

A have a few very lovely friends. I don't see them very often, or not as often as I'd like. Most of them do not live nearby. But I could not live without them. 

I have a crocodile toy which was a gift for my fourth birthday - he's old and green (kind of) and lives in my bed. Near my pillow, usually. I also have a fluffy On Nom toy on my side of bed. My husband doesn't have any creatures on his side of the bed, but there are birds on our doona cover. 

Our house is very cosy. Think Ikea catalogue. It's also in a constant state of renovation. We've been renovating it for the seven years we've had it. It drives me nuts. It's a slow and painful process but the end result is always amazing.

I worry a lot. Currently I do not know what I'm meant to be doing with my life. I am in limbo about my choices - I wanted to go to uni but due to a series of unfortunate events I might not be able to. I feel lonely a lot. And I tend to have enormously high expectations of myself. I quickly doubt myself. 

I am always able to completely tear myself down and convince myself I'm no good.

But I'm going to stop that now. I'm done with that. I'm going to write here instead. 

Oh, and I really like cake. And chocolate.