A thousand pieces

Seems like we’ve picked up yet another hobby during lockdown - thanks to someone in our street’s WhatsApp group getting rid of a couple of jigsaws last week. I’ve never had any interest in doing one, as I’m not the most patient person in the world, but I’m so happy I on the spur of the moment sat down and joined in when the guys had a go at a 500 piece one. Jigsaws rock!! We completed it in one sitting, and then swapped it with another lady in the street who’d taken the 1000 piece one pictured here. Even though the weather was great, the pull of the jigsaw was strong enough for me to want to just spend all day working away at this thing. Sometimes we’d get completely stuck, and Oomoo would get the task of finding a particularly shaped piece, and just by going by shape alone he’d find it almost immediately. Like Rain Man or something. My technique was purely visual, I could find where a piece should go by looking at the tiniest details, whereas Mr Famapa kept track of shapes and shades. I kid you not, but I was buzzing for about 20 minutes after we completed it (it took four days of sporadic sessions) and the whole experience was just so satisfying. Now we just need to hook up with more people getting rid of jigsaws, ‘cause I’m jonesing for one baaaad. I guess it’s official. We’re old people now.

Walkers

Last Thursday afternoon was the first time in nine weeks that we walked together as a family! The boys have only been cycling for outdoor exercise this whole lockdown, and Mr Famapa joked and said he wasn't even sure how to use his legs for walking anymore. Made me think of sailors, and how strange it must be for them to walk on solid ground again, once they’re back on land after months at sea. It’s all change out there; we’re not out of lockdown yet, but walking down the road, you can’t tell. Everyone is out and about, and it almost feels like before, except pretty much everything is still closed. I’m due out for another walk in the woods now. I wonder how busy it’ll be.

Le street art Parisienne

Thought we’d stay in Paris for today’s post. Looking at these made me realise how I hardly ever go to the trendy parts of London where you’d see our equivalent street art. Anyway, I really like how mixed these all are.

It’s going to be +26 here today, and my plans are to do the Dutch GCSE exam (what 16 year olds take) this morning (that my Dutch teacher gave us as homework last week), and read in the garden before our daily bike ride. Leuk! Hope you have a good day! Or Fijne dag ;0)

Paris people

Still have some pictures left from last year’s summer holiday in France... On the way home from the Dordogne area, we and our friends stopped over in Paris on our train journey home, which actually was the stupidest idea ever. We’d just had 12 really chill days in the countryside, but then finished the holiday off with all the other tourists cramming the capital, just missing the hottest day ever recorded by 24hrs (+42,5 celsius/108,5F!!). Looking at these pictures now, they’ve taken on a different meaning, and made me for the first time miss the world before. To be able to travel to other places, or just simply hang out with friends by the river, or stopping somewhere for a good cup of coffee is not something we take for granted now, is it?

Oomoo had to (as part of his extracurricular homeschooling he does with two classmates, in lessons set up by the parents) write himself a letter from now, to when he started his school year six months ago. A letter from the future in other words. It’s very funny but also sad, and gives perspective on what we’ve just had to accept as our reality now. Imagine telling yourself back then that there would soon be a worldwide pandemic that would stop the world functioning from how you always known it. That hundreds of thousands of people would die from the disease, and in order to stem the spread, most countries would have to go into lockdown for months, and that you wouldn’t be able to see your extended family or friends. That you’d have to queue to buy food in the supermarket, and that for the first two weeks of locking down, the shelves would be mostly empty. That you would have to stay at home, but you were allowed out once a day (if you were lucky enough to live in a country that would let you), as long as you kept moving. The strange thing is, it turns out you won’t mind it, and that you’ll be happy enough to be slightly wary of society opening up again. That the time in isolation was like a well needed pause, with time for you to think about what or who actually is important in your life, which in itself means that you’re a lucky so-and-so to be able to sit there and ponder over it in the first place. That going into lockdown was relatively easy, but you know that what comes after is going to be harder, and weirder. So you might have to tell yourself it’s always darkest before dawn. That there surely will be a silver lining, and that this too shall pass. Cheesy, I know, but it’s the truth Ruth.