Walking hand in hand

Walking together with Tito hand in hand. Absorbing the beauty of the small handicraft village. A man with a donkey walking past us on the dirt road. A parrot greeting us from a nearby tree. The smell of tacos and fried banana. The sun kissing our skin, making it a little bit darker. Willow kissing Tito with an "I love you."

Swimming

Deliciously clear, deep blue water. Moonfish, sunrays reflected in a beautiful multi-coloured coral reef. Tranquility. Air bubbles. Scubadivers holding hands in the Caribbean. Getting ready to go back on the shore for a feast of tropical fruits under the coconut trees.

There's nothing like a holiday for lovers.

Waking up

I've been hibernating for so long. Autumn, winter, spring.... Finally it's time to wake up. I am in Titonia. Happy. Endlessly happy. Hugs, kisses, smiles. I'm home. Home is where Tito is.

Sleeping

Dreaming peacefully with a smile on my face. Nothing is like coming home and sleeping in my old bed. Waking up. Familiar kitchen-noices. My mother is about to make a delicious breakfast. Will miss this tomorrow, when I go back to my other home.

A letter

A much awaited letter. Dated on the 18th of April 2008. Arrived in the hands of its recipient on the 9th of May the same year. A letter about to change the lives considerably for at least two persons. Love is stronger than bureaucracy.

Early morning memory

It's been raining all night. The air feels fresh and cool. On my way to work, something makes me think about my old teacher in religion. An eccentric lady indeed. She used to ride her bike a lot, and on rainy days she was riding it in a way that would make you think she'd had one or two martinis too many.

One day she gave us the explanation: she was only trying to avoid running over the rain worms having crawled onto the street in order to save themselves from a rather wet death. The lady was truly living by the motto: "Thou shalt not kill."

Wednesday night

A glass or three of red wine in good company. I couldn't think of a better way to spend the night. Better than reading children's books, at least for a night. Thanks for inviting me, Ms. M. :-)

Unfortunate time-arrangement

All of a sudden there is a day which doesn’t exist every year. Like if it went on a four year holiday, and then came back to say hello. I used to have a classmate who is born on the 29th of February, meaning she has lived four times less birthdays than the rest of us. Today will not be added to my monthly paycheck, because it’s a day that’s not supposed to be here. I’m actually working for free. Next time I find myself waking up to a day that doesn’t normally exist; I’ll consider staying in bed the entire day until a real day shows up.

Barely breathing - not dead yet

I really do miss blogging. That's why I haven't deleted Willow's Adventures yet or proclaimed it dead. My blog used to give me a lot of joy. It was always somewhat thrilling to enter it to see if anyone had left me a comment.

Then I moved to a new placed. A new, temporary home. And there was no internet access. Being a temporary home, I decided not to invest in broadband. Six months later, I still live in my internet-free, temporary home.

So I go to work, on a Sunday, to use the connection there. In a permanent home, whenever that can be spoken of, there most certainly will be internet access and therefore also new adventures told by Willow.

Marathon

Some people put on shorts, t-shirts and their worn-out snickers, and run out in the streets to join others in rat races. They become one with the masses of other people having the same focus – winning. As a librarian I’ve joined my own, personal rat race. Reading children’s books. I’m only competing with myself, and my playground is the library. Three books before breakfast I consider a good day.

Would you care for a biscotti?

Juicy oranges, crunchy almonds, the taste of cinnamon, clover and cardamom mixed with the smell newly made coffee. It's Saturday and working day. Have a biscotti if you'd like to make a pause, forgetting your surroundings for just a moment.

The return

Anji had no other choice than to send out a search party for Willow. What had happened to her? Why had no one heard anything from her in three months? Had a tropical fever got hold of her or had she simply refused to leave her beloved Tito’s side, cancelling her ticket home?

None of the alternatives above coincided with reality, although the last option would not have been altogether unlikely. There were several simple explanations to Willow’s disappearance from Willow’s Adventures (and none of them were because she was lacking new adventures to write about.)

Willow had made it back home. Tears in her eyes had welled out when separating from Tito over again, but she did her best to recover quickly. Luckily she had too much on her mind to let her temporal loss send her into any deep desespearation. In the mean time, Willow had become a real, live-and-flesh, librarian. She had even been offered a job surprisingly close to her idea of a dream job. Willow had moved to a new city where she knew no one. She had moved into a new home, which only lacked one very important thing in order to stay in touch with the outside world: An access to the Internet.

The fabulous library she worked at did however have an access to the Internet. It had just taken Willow more than a month to understand, that if she were to stay at work after hours, she needed some kind of nutrition stored in her drawer to avoid the panic hunger-attacks are know to cause.

Oatmeal biscuits combined with Anji’s search party has contributed to Willow’s return to civilization. It shall duly be known if anyone has noticed her disappearance.

Fly me to the moon......

Gone to a better place (with Tito) until further notice. Just imagine 40 degrees, white sandy beaches, palmtrees and me relaxing in a hammock nipping to a coconut drink.

Happy Summer Holidays!

P.S. Blogging might be scarce for quite some time.

Questions produced by an overloaded mind

Was that really it? Did I just hand in the final paper before the summer? Did I actually hand in the last paper the university is ever going to get from me? Does this mean I'm done? Have I really become a live flesh-and-blood librarian? Wow. Who wants to hire me?

A real treat

Lying in bed for hours, watching the rain. The view consists of red brick roofs, nineteen chimneys and several treetops. Light green, green, dark green. The occasional helicopter and a few stray seagulls fly by. The sound that rain falling on window makes has a meditative effect. Breathing slowly, thinking about everything and nothing. The mind flows just like it wants to, without anyone noticing. The essay written on the computer has nearly been finished. Lying in bed watching the rain for hours.

Tears

Tears. Melancholy. Missing the only person capable of filling her life with constant magic. Tears flowing down her left cheek. Her right cheek is dry.

The left eye is closest to the heart.

On the tube

Two beautiful, fashionable teenage girls were entering the tube one late Friday night. They were chattering in Arabic about the party, new people they had met and hairstyles. The ride on the tube was also spent to change their clothes entirely, making sure not one strand of hair could be seen. As the sliding doors opened, they were already fully prepared to enter a different world.

Being part of the world

There comes a time, when one has to move away. An era ends as a new one begins. It was under such circumstances I needed a place to stay for a night. I asked a very good friend of mine if it would be ok to crash on his sofa for a night, and he told me "sure, as long as there is no invasion in Burma." I never thought that the political situation in a far away country would ever have any influence on wether or not I would get a roof over my head for a night. That's when you feel that you are part of the world.

Mondays...

There's something utterly demotivating about starting a Monday morning with an essay that has to be written. The weekend seems so far away, yet the date for handing the essay in seems a lot closer. This in spite that there are still three weeks to go.

Magnolias

It was a sunny day in a garden resembling paradise. Couples were walking slowly around on narrow paths, enjoying themselves and the warm hand to hold. The bees were buzzing and the birds had been up since 5 o clock. There were colours, smells, silence. And there were beauty. "When we get married," the handsome young man said, "I want you to wear those." The young lady smiled at the beautiful pearls he had picked out for her. They were magnificent magnolias.