Wednesday, june 21, 2006 (2nd posting)

Setback

Against our expectations (prepared for the worst) we have had little setback, but last week it happened. The phone rang. I answered it. On the other side of the line I heard an anxious voice:

"ouch, it’s me..."

Male? Female?, who is this in Gods name? Then I heard something about a stair, desk, bruised ribs, hospital and

“ow, ow, I’m too much injured, cannot talk anymore"

Was this Jitze? For a moment I had a demonic thought that he would still come this way from Friesland, but then I envisioned him in front of me, from top till toe in bandages rushing along the Afsluitdijk. One bandage got undone and fluttered out of the window and found grip on a lamppost!.... No! Slowly it came to me: Jitze is not coming.

The last few days I have heard many valid reasons not to come and work in France, but usually dull but indisputable "my boss doesn't allow me", or "sorry I have something else also very important" and not to forget " I've got an afterbirth, wedding, funeral", but this... is the divine providence himself behind al this, or did Jitze fall down from the stairs on a desk al by himself? Whatever the reasons, we had to hire a car in a hurry, because there was no space for Ruud in the truck.

Thursday we loaded all our belongings in the truck, and we succeeded with the help of all of our friends. For four hours we dragged boxes, shelves and furniture and finally the house was empty. Only my paintings are left, how symbolic. Often I came to the point of throwing them away, but Ruud forbids me.

And now I have phantom pains...

...there where once was a fridge, I find a gaping hole...

...I search a lighter but find a measuring cup …

...and where once was a table, now my cup falls to the ground...

And this goes on and on... ok, it is sad, but I can ensure you that the emptiness has got its advantages. The children make the most beautiful drawings with only three colour felt-tips. I can hardly loose anything, because if I don't find it in three minutes, it's just not there. And in the loft there is only an inflatable bed, magnificent.

Ruud's father worries about me, because "a woman does want her things", but I'm not that kind of woman. Indeed, more than that, I hate things, I try to get rid of them, loose them. But always they return to pursue me like a swarm of rubber ducks, photo frames, jolly vases, wall decoration, toys, shoes, coats for every type of weather, clothes you have abandoned but cannot throw away. I cannot tell you how happy I am to be resolved from all this for a few weeks. For now they are safely locked up in boxes in Espalion and meanwhile I try to find the courage to get rid of them for once and for all. Wish me luck.

posted by Ruud at 12:55 AM

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