Let's talk about Toothpaste

 Maybe not a subject that springs to mind pondering about life but...

Being a woman I always squeeze my toothpaste down the tube from top to bottom. It is a man's 'privilege' to squeeze in the middle, isn't it.
And I keep squeezing until the last little bit, I am thrifty. I prefer to have at least one tube in stock but sometimes forget to buy it. So, what happens next is that the amount of paste comes to a point of which I think I am going to run out of it. And I do not live close to a shop.

But here is the amazing thing that when I think I am going to be short of paste, the tube seems to be endless and I always survive until the my next shopping weekend. Not that I count on this every time though. I like to be prepared, I prefer a fresh breath.

Prepared.... I learned throughout my life that being prepared for tomorrow, next week, next month is impossible. Today can be totally different from yesterday or tomorrow. Living life by the day is much more my way (with my little home as my resting point). A 'skill' taught by my parents who regularly moved house because my father found an other job when the current one bored him, he needed challenges.
His career ended at the age of 43 when he got ill but in a way surviving was also a challenge to him.
My mother, a woman with a heart big enough for everyone who needed her unconditional love, managed to create a warm and welcoming home in every house we lived in. One of her favourite quotes was: 'Remember you always take yourself with you. If you can create a cosy home in one house, you can also create it in another house'. And she was so right.

Taking yourself with you everywhere you go needs stability in a sense of being comfortable with yourself by knowing you are the base of your life. Your base needs to be solid, you need to be able to trust yourself and move on from there. Take your base to where ever you go.
Of course life is throwing good and bad at you, I simply do not believe there are people who sail through life without high waters, storms or a good thunder now and then.
Just happiness does not exist. And in my humble opinion... how do you recognize simple happiness if you don't know grief? How do you appreciate a beautiful valley if you don't know the hills?
Or a smooth sea without the high waves?

To be honest, a predictable life would bore me to death. When I look back I can not remember one boring day in my life. Lazy days, yes. But even then I adored this laziness. Absorbed it, drank it in, squeezed every lazy minute out of it. And I still do, I still squeeze every little bit out of my lazy days.

Sometimes my head is full, my brains overloaded. Not just a matter of age, I have had this all my life. When this happens I know it is time to switch off, to withdraw to my little Mental Isle.

Because I work from home, my isle is only available in the weekends but if it is there, I make the most of it by switching off my phone and the internet.
My Mental Isles are a mix of doing completely nothing and enjoying the stillness, or walking the dogs, or reading, photography, watching a film.... just being me. Please do not say I am selfish which I am not. No, in this way I maintain my base. Each base needs maintenance to bear the structure. My structure is always in good use, busy at times. And because life is not predictable, the base needs to be ready for tomorrow.

Would I be an easy person to live with? Probably not, I need my freedom.

Photo: Ike Roelfsema

I am not a moody person, nor angry. Often called 'down to earth but with a good sense of humour' is more who I am. When things go wrong in life, I adapt to the challenge to use the changes to find other paths to my future. These paths always have side paths and sometimes you have to walk and walk to find new destinations but they are there! Never give up!

Be like a toothpaste tube. When you face the moment of running out, keep squeezing, you will be surprised how much there is still left. In the meantime 'buy' a new tube, buy a different taste. Be ready for a fresh breath tomorrow, next week, next month. Life is still full of surprises.

My 'tube' is running out for 2020 and I am looking forward to my holiday in my own home. Squeezing the last bits, buying a new taste for 2021. I am ready for new challenges.

Wishing you all a comfortable Christmas, squeeze the COVID restrictions, don't leave left overs in your old tube. I am looking forward to see you next year.

Lots of love,

Helen XXX

Let's talk about People and their Blocking Behaviour

Living in a village loved by tourists, I can not avoid noticing various behaviours.
Let me state first that most of the people who visit us on purpose are those who love the quiet tiny village, the Wadden Sea with it's beautiful views and endless horizons, and the empty Friesian landscape.

Though during this Corona time, we also see people who would not even think about visiting this area in normal times. But now they are asked to stay at home or close to home, they all of a sudden feel the irresistible need to push boundaries and flock the otherwise unattractive quiet outdoors.
Preferable with on line ordered Pick-nick baskets filled by on-line ordered food. Unfortunately a very tiny majority forgot to buy poop sachet on line and left their overdose of WC paper at home, thinking that what once was food, now digested and disposed the natural way, can be left in corners of private gardens and or behind gates hidden under a pile of tissues.
I emphasize, it is only a single soul as the majority is well raised.

Now we see more and more people climbing the dikes for fresh air en stunning views, I can not always keep my usual 5 metres distance and need to stick to the government rules of 1.5 metres.
This is an impossible task when people take the stairs and half way stop to look around. In the best possible case they walk to the top and stay there, completely unaware of their kinsmen following them or those who want to go down. And to no surprise this is causing a blockade both ways.
The dikes are wide and still walkable for those who are fit and moveable. But if one is of a certain old age and less supple, going down a dike is quite a challenge (not talking about myself here :-)).

It often astonishes me that someone can stand in the middle of a passage way, surrounded by other people without even noticing them. Without catching signals of other human beings. Acting like they are all on their own in a large empty world.
Not only something you see with tourists but also with people in shops. Leaving their shopping trolleys in the middle of a gang way, walking back and forth gathering the stuff they need.
Or even worse, meeting someone they know and starting a conversation no one seem to be able to interrupt to pass by.
And if they are finally aware of others (caused by a loud 'Ahum' or a firm push where a gentle touch was of no help) they glare with a spread all over the face look of "Excuse me! I was here first!!"

Being an introvert does not help to wade through a crowd, one reason why I find shopping an almost impossible task. I enter the shop as Mr. Jekyll and leave it as Mr. Hyde. Bless my little country shop which still has quiet moments.
And watching the 'blocking behaviour' makes me scratch the back of my head. Because I do not want to annoy myself, I try to observe it with a somewhat cynical sense of humour.
Like yesterday. I could not pass on top of the dike stairs, it was literally blocked by people who felt a great need to lean on the gate that keeps the sheep separated from the humans (although the difference is not always visible), to enjoy the surroundings. Because there were also people who pushed to reach the top of the stairs, the Dutch 1.5 metres Social Distance was laughable.
I watched and indeed laughed. I told myself there was no need to understand this cattle behaviour so did not even give it a try.

I walked round them in a large circle, feeling blessed with so much space that for some odd reason, no one else had noticed.

At the bottom of the dike I walked towards the space between two fences to dispose the poo bags of my dogs in the dustbin but got blocked by a very tall and broad shouldered cyclist, appropriate dressed to cycle the Tour the France and most likely preferably being in France then in Friesland if the Tour wouldn't have been cancelled.
He stood there like a lost Viking in Cycling gear, legs wide, his massive arms upwards, hands pushed in his waist. He was so fortunate to look over the crowd on floor level and that is what he did. He looked and looked.

Instead of asking him politely to unblock the passage, I watched him from a COVID-19 safe distance wondering when he was going to glance down to notice this 167 cm high lady with the two dogs.
It took a while but all of a sudden he returned to the real world, sounds reached his ears again, his brains caught human signals, his nose maybe the scent of living people.
I smiled, he almost jumped in the air at his impossible napped cycling shoes, said: "Oooh, I am so sorry!" and stepped aside, forgetting that his large body still remained within the 1.5 metres. Then a big smile as if the coin finally landed. And off he went, following the crowd at the stairs.

Photo: Ike Roelfsema

You might agree to the fact that the COVID-19 rules spit out a strange mix of interesting people.
Who are all welcome in our village but who we most likely never see again in 'normal' times, shifted by dislikes for empty horizons, dull blue skies, white clouds which could predict rain, the ever blowing wind and the boring green dikes.

And I am not gong to convince them otherwise!!


Love, Helen xxx

A letter to my Mother

Dearest Mama,

It is Mother's Day, a day you did not care about much. At least not the commercial part of it.
But you appreciated and cared for an extra hug, an 'I love you', a warm embrace, holding your hand.
Just the normal but ever important affection in daily life, not solely on Mother's Day.

Being a mother and wife was your joy, not a duty. Your dream was being a mother of a large family but knew that just my brother and I were miracles with miscarriages in between.
We were so much wanted and even more loved.

Viewing photos of our childhood, I smile. I see the love in the way you hold us, in your eyes looking at us. Watching us when were not in immediate reach, always alert without smothering.

You were also a mother to foster children, our friends, you created a warm and welcoming home for everyone. You loved to cook, especially Indonesian meals for large groups of friends and family.
You were always there for us, answering our questions whenever they popped up. Whether is was about sexual education, political matters or just the daily chores of growing from a happy child to a confused teenager and a grown up human being.

My memories go way back using the beautiful monochrome photos Dad took of our childhood.
To Zaandam where I was born, visiting your parents. Visiting Dad's mother and uncle in Steenwijk.
Long car drives during which I got car sick, a standard procedure. You held me and comforted me.
You and Dad taught me to read and write before I went to elementary school. You understood the importance of being honest about my first operation; the pain, the recovering.

Even more you understood my free spirit and my introversion. Yes, you and Dad set guidelines for a properly functioning household (called the 'traffic lights') but you explained why things were not allowed or better not to do. And thus allowed us to make mistakes in life.
You and Dad drew one line in the upbringing. Dad was often away for his work and you were capable of raising us almost on your own. Of course you discussed things with Dad but you supported each others decision for the one and only reason that they were made in our best interest with all the love you could give.

You confessed you did not sleep when I took the Ferry to the UK at the age of 17, determined to go on holiday all on my own. You told me this afterwards, in fore you were as enthusiastic (and nervous) as I was. You told me that Dad and you knew I was smart enough to know my limits. A trust in me I have never forgotten and which was so crucial for the rest of my life.

I remember our holidays together to the UK where you met my 'second' Mum and Dad, those wonderful Yorkshire people I met in Somerset and who became my other parents. Mum and you both answered when I said: 'Mama', you got on so well together.
These holidays with you Mama, are so precious. I fulfilled your dream and we both enjoyed every minute. Also a wonderful chance to get to know you better since I moved out of the house, being married.

You nursed Dad for 24 years after he got ill at the age of 43, a year in which you battled and survived Breast Cancer. You fought to stay alive and to live a normal as possible life. And never failed to spread care and love.

After both Dads died within a few years time, our bond got stronger. And how happy I was for you when you met an old friend and both fell in love.
And how much we needed each other when this friend died within a year and you were not able to laugh anymore. For a whole year I never saw your beautiful smile which you always kept in the past, no matter what happened. It hurt so much, Mama.

You were there for me when my marriage ended and I had to return home from Sweden. You offered me your love, arms and home. You listened, cried with me and helped me to get back on my feet.
You arranged the viewing of a rental home even before I was back in Holland and you were as happy as I was when I moved to the same village.

You cried for me when I was diagnosed with severe Breast Cancer and refused to cry myself.
You held me when I vomited my heart out during the chemo therapy. I slept in your arms when I was too tired to stand on my feet. You applaud when I refused to wear a wig and loved the shawls I made to cover my head.

Although your body grew old and tired, disabled, you offered me your automatic comfort chair after both my hip operations. You spoilt me with love, tea and healthy food. You finally was a mothering mother again now I was less stubborn and self supporting.

You looked after my wonderful dog when I found a job for which I had to travel within Europe.
We had long conversations via the mobile phone on my way to the airports, happy to share my trips and I was more than happy to share them with you.

Your health deteriorated and I became your part time carer. The rules changed, now I was the one who looked after you and found out of whom I inherited my stubbornness!
You refused to complain, always looked at the bright side. Sometimes taking the wrong decisions, ending in being rushed to the hospital.
I stayed with you whenever I could, holding your hand. But we always laughed, sharing the same sense of humour, able to see the sun shining behind every cloud.

Then came the day the alarm service called me, you had fallen in the living room.
Living so close to you I was there in a minute and knew instantly you had broken your hip in a very bad way. You did not cry, you did not complain although you were in so much pain.
The ambulance arrived quickly and the wonderful paramedics gave you morphine before they moved you. You held my hand, did not want to let go.

You accepted munch sooner than I that the broken hip was inoperable, also due to your heart condition. Medication kept the pain level low but you knew you were going to die. And you smiled, a broad calm smile. We both knew you longed for joining your Heavenly Father, I knew I was going to meet you again. But I cried.

I read somewhere 'A parent always dies too young' and this is true. You want to keep them with you for ever. In good health. But true love does not allow needles suffering and I told you it was alright to go.

I cried at the day of your funeral. I was not able to speak and loved my brother for doing that also for me, accompanied by the sound of heavy rainfalls on the church roof.
I cried when they lowered your coffin next to Dad but smiled when suddenly the sky opened and dazzling sunbeams shone right into your grave. I knew you were Home.

Life moved on. I remarried and became a widow. I moved house to built up a new life.
How much I like to talk to you, to ask you for advise, to enjoy my beautiful little house and the area together. To drink tea, to eat biscuits, to laugh and to love. To even argue with you. To embrace you.

I love you, Mama

Let's talk about Nothing

Although quite occupied during this Dutch Intelligent Lock Down in Corona time (we are advised to stay at home instead of ordered), I sometimes have a moment to slow down my brains which, I have to admit, are not always working the same pace as my  muscles. My brains win...

During the past weekend, when the sun was shining bright in a beautiful blue sky and  my village being overrun by people who preferred to sniff the fresh sea air, keeping at last 2 metres social distance, I sat on my little patio surrounded by Pansies in the most beautiful colours.
My feet high up on my rocking couch, cat and book on my lap, a hot chocolate within reach, I decided to do nothing. And not only that, also to think Nothing.

And I mean literally Nothing, with a capital N.

When I tried to stop my brain completely, I discovered there is not something like Nothing when it comes to the brains. At least, my brains. Thinking of Nothing is already something.
So what does Nothing mean? According to the Cambridge Dictionary there are numerous explanations and synonyms but nothing that indicates emptiness. In my context "Easiness and Simplicity" comes closest.

Do we realise how often we use the word Nothing?
   "What are you doing?" Actually....nothing.
Not true. Just sitting is not doing nothing, for example, you have chosen a chair to sit comfortably, telling your muscles to behave comfortably. So you do something.
   "Where are you thinking about?" To be honest, nothing....
Where at the same time you might think 'please stop asking me these questions, I want peace...'
   "Do we have any money left?" No, nothing but there are still some pennies left in your purse.
   "How was your day out? What did you do?" Fine but I did nothing.
In the meantime you drove and walked, ate and drank, looked and listened.
Etcetera, etcetera, you can think of some examples yourself.

Back to the brains. Whilst I was thinking of Nothing, I was actually thinking of numerous things: being happy with my little house and patio, being extremely happy feeling the sun on my face, the wind (although still cold) through my hair, the cat on my lap and the dogs nearby, the sound of the chicken, their free eggs, the smell of the flowers, the sound of the sea....

I forced my brains not to dwell off these Nothing subjects, just to concentrate on now and here, not on tomorrow or next week where Nothing is out of the question.
No, just now, this very moment, only this afternoon.

At the same time a few people entered my brains and I allowed them to do so. Precious people who were welcome to share Nothing with me. I hoped they were at ease as much as I was, whether they were doing Something or Nothing.

In my thoughts I had a conversation with them, offered them my peaceful moment in this strange Corona time where Nothing all of a sudden seems very well possible.....: do I see stripes from the plains in the sky? No, nothing. Do I see or smell pollution? No, nothing.

Photo: Ike Roelfsema Photography

Are cars blocking the roads to find people something to entertain themselves because enjoying ones own home is out of fashion? No, nothing.
Are the beaches chock a block? No, nothing like it.
Are people fighting over shopping carts in overcrowded supermarkets on  Sunday? No, nothing.....

Then I hoped that we are right now learning to find a balance between Nothing and Everything.
A lot less of Everything and a little more than Nothing. The latter because nothing Nothing does not exists. But there are so many positive Nothings. Free of charge Nothings which often turn out to be the very best Nothings ever. The most enjoyable and achieving Nothings. A good synonym for these Nothings could very well be Happiness. Or Contentedness.

This is most likely my shortest Blog Post ever, for the simple reason it is about Nothing.
I leave the realization of Nothing to you and hope it will benefit your spirit.

Lots of love,

Helen XXX

Let's talk about Wandering Thoughts

It is strange how thoughts wander through time. Or jump from one subject to another, sometimes with decades in between.

Not a clue where the next memory came from but it caused a few thoughts travelling a long way back in time.
It started with recalling a comment on one of my Instagram photos. The dialect from Zeeland (a beautiful county near the sea) and being able to speak it. They pronounce the H instead of the G and I love to listen to it.
A very long time ago I worked as a international receptionist and telephonist for a company in the east of Holland and one of the sales managers was a true 'Zeeuw', including the beautiful accent. When he called in the mornings, he said 'Goedemorgen' (good morning) with the H: 'hoedemorhen' and then said 'guess who is speaking'. It was our joke.

This was in a time without Internet, without mobile phones. A time where the most advanced office machine was a huge telex covered with a sound absorbing lid against the 'ratatata' of the punched tape. And here go my thoughts......
A time sales managers were out on the road, driving miles and miles without being disturbed by calls, messages and e-mails. If needed we contacted them by calling their next client.
Otherwise they checked in during the morning and afternoon by a normal land line.
And you know what? Business went well, happy customers, happy company.
Of course everybody worked hard, there were deadlines, goals, achievements. But there was also time, time to interact, for 1 to 1 personal contact, a real face or real voice instead of a quick message.

Oh yes, I count the blessings of the internet, I do. My business is relying on it as a virtual secretary and writer. The Art of Communication.
Apart from that, we can now talk face to face with friends and relatives all over the world. We can see their tears, love and laughter. We share photos, moments of life. Receive immediate replies to our e-mails. Or can 'hide' if we do not have immediate replies at hand.
Still it often feels if we are wider apart than ever. Because we are more busy than ever. Busy coping with the huge amount of information thrown at us by all the Social Media including the TV.
Vivid images of terror and horror alternated by entertainment and nonsense. Dinner at the sofa bursting into tears and loosing your appetite watching killing of animals but shaking your head by human fights and asking for your desert. And when we go to bed, images are still swirling around in our brains and we can't get those grey cells to rest.
Never did mankind consume as many sleeping pills, supplements, anti depressions and pills against anxiety as in these modern days.

A few weeks before I moved house, my TV stopped working and I never bought another one. To be honest, it is a huge relief not to have one anymore. Admit, it is so easy to push the 'on' button of the remote control and before you know you are watching something you did not even plan to watch. Or you start zapping. If I want to see or hear news, I look for it on the internet but I watch what I want to see or know. And I enjoy my evenings with a book or music I love, or a good conversation. Or nothing at all, allowing my brains time off.

Never before has 'sitting' being disease no.1. As well for adults as for kids, causing cardiovascular disorders, diabetes and overweight.
Never needed we so much control by our laws and government, the EU as in the modern times. And never have the crime rates been as high as nowadays.
Never before did parents (sometimes violently) disagree with teachers and tutors about the way their children are raised (!) at school. Responsibilities shift......

Photo: Ike Roelfsema Photography

The behaviour around this horrifying Corona Virus shocked  me. The Virus on it's own is terrifying enough and we must not underestimate it. We see people dying with the centre of death in Bergamo, Italy. But what do we do (well, not everybody of course), we start foraging, hoarding, leaving empty shelves in Supermarkets without even thinking about the people who come after you.
Hoarding WC paper..... no wonder so many jokes are going around the world...
Although connected to the whole world we became an 'I first' society. From Social to Anti Social.

I do not want to end in doom and gloom. We also see wonderful things happening. Support to those wonderful people who risk their own lives by helping others. Doctors and nurses who are also fathers and mothers, brother and sisters, partners. Volunteers, neighbours, friends.
I see in Italy a community feeling I only see in Holland during football. United in their grief, united in their solidarity.
It is not a 'far from my bed' show anymore. We are in the middle of it. In the middle of good things too!!!
May the world learn from this the basic things in life. We can never go back to 30-40 years ago but we can go back to what a human is, the basic needs, we do not need much to be happy.
We need each other and so many people have to move on without their loved ones due to the Virus.
We can live with far less luxury but we can not live without love and friendship.

Lots of love,

Helen XXX

Let's talk about Kissing

This morning I woke up from a strange dream.
I visited a lady well in her 70's who was, as I was informed on forehand, an obsessive cleaner.
She welcomed me heartily with a kiss on each cheek, then looked embarrassed and said, waving her hands: "I am so sorry, I forgot all about not touching and kissing due to the Corona Virus...."

I wasn't too worried because the whole house looked cleaner then clean and smelled like a bottle of exclusive and very expensive disinfectant.
But I think it shows that even in our sleep, we are or need to be aware of not touching other people in public or even our own faces. And the need of disinfectants.
I am definitely not the panicking type of human but I do not underestimate the danger of getting or even worse, spreading this COVID 19.

It made me also aware of how often we touch someone. For example shaking hands out of politeness, when you meet, thank, say hello or goodbye. The more tactiles amongst us, touch because they like to touch; an arm around someone shoulders, touching a hand, a tiny hug.
But we also hug to comfort a friend, or to show our appreciation. Or hugging the one we love, this can be a friend, relative, a lover. All of a sudden we realise how often we kiss, maybe not always aware of the importance of a kiss. And if we learn the importance of a touch or a kiss through the Virus, something good comes out of it.

Woken up by my dream, I pondered upon the variety of kisses.
Kissing the tiny little feet and hands of your precious baby. The knee of your child after it fell on it. The hand of a (grand)parent.
The kiss on the cheek, more famous in the Netherlands than anywhere else because the fashion here is 3 kisses, even with people you meet for the first time (not my fashion in this case).
A farewell kiss in all its meanings.

The first kiss with a boy- or girlfriend, one you will never forget. (Well, I haven't. It happened in a new built shed and the smell of creosote is still causing butterflies in my stomach :-))
The first kiss of your first lover. Short kisses and long deep endless kisses with as the cherry on top of the cake, the French Kiss. Written with a capital because it is the ultimate way of kissing.

The French Kiss is like reading the utmost romantic story ever and nibbling sweets (chocolates maybe?) in the meantime; the first chapters tickle your curiosity. It is a careful introduction to the protagonist, it's character and skills.
And when the Kiss continues, you become more intimate, you dive deeper into the story. It reads better and better, in fact you can not stop reading and exploring. You want to know the end but you want to postpone it as long as possible. You are not aware of your surroundings anymore, you left earth floating to heaven. Then the Kiss comes to an end, not a sudden end but slowly you let go, still tasting, still reading but the last chapter is almost there. You sigh, hesitating to leave the story, a story you want to read over and over again. Together with that large bag of sweets.

The French Kiss is an art and if you do not manage it you definitely need to grab the opportunity when it arises. Of course you need a skilled teacher!

Photo: Ike Roelfsema ©

Back on earth, back to the 'average' social kisses we are not allowed to give to people we meet. We need to keep the kisses indoors. COVID 19 is changing our social behaviour, all of a sudden we realise how normal an occasional hug or kiss was. And how precious a kiss is.

But do not fear, we are blessed with the internet and with emoticons. The most famous these days is the one with the mask. Though I noticed that the hugging and kissing emo's are gaining in popularity.

So much that nowadays we are kissing people we never met. Worldwide we feel connected, share worries, share jokes to keep up the good spirits. We are like trees standing storms.
COVID 19 keeps us apart in real life, but connects over the internet.

Bless the inventor of the emoticons. And bless the spirit of everyone trying to make the best of life in a period we need so many hugs and kisses. Keep sharing them, please.

Lots of love, hugs and kisses,

Helen XXX

PS Can someone explain to me why it is called the French Kiss??? ;-)

Let's talk about Intimacy

'Intimacy, a situation in which you have a sexual relationship with someone' (Cambridge dictionary)
But it may also be a non-sexual relationship involving family, friends, or acquaintances (Wikipedia)
Still, the latter was not the meaning of a recent conversation which triggered me to write this post.

In September 2017 I wrote about 'Men and My Checklist (post with a wink)'  based on the well meant advise from people to look for a new relationship,
By now the majority of people accepted that I prefer to live on my own but a very few still think that my life would be so much better if I had a partner again, someone to share my life with, to cuddle up with on the sofa or in bed.
To go out with, to talk to, to kiss and hug and all other things that come with intimacy in a relationship / marriage.
The big question of these kind and gentle hearted souls is: "Don't you miss intimacy?" Meaning a sexual relationship.

Do I need to think long and deep before I answer? No! Because, what is intimacy to me? How do I feel, experience and treat it?
Intimacy to me is that deep borderless connection I have with the one I love and trust. And for him (I am an incurable heterosexual) this will feel the same. That special level of interacting, translated in a touch, kiss, smile, laugh, tear, making love (with or without exciting sex) or even an argument to keep things lively.
And what is the meaning of a long term sexual relationship without this intimacy? For me any form of a sexual relationship needs some intimacy. I am not the 'one night stand with a stranger' woman, I need more, a 'foreplay' of getting to know someone. His character, smell, likes and dislikes. And a wicked sense of humour. And let's not forget his build: tall, broad shoulders.... (see my wish list ;-))

Seriously, I might be very old fashioned or to some even boring but I still have my taste and values.
So, do I miss intimacy..... no. For the very simple reason that there isn't someone I love like I described before. No one to share this intimacy with. In my opinion I will only miss it when it is connected to the person I love to be intimate with and that person is simply not there. At least, I don't know him.

Freedom is not only living in a free country. Freedom is the precious condition of being who you are. Not pretending, just the basic you who creates from this base a free happy life. Free in your head and heart. If you live this life with the one you love so deeply, this is the most wonderful thing there is for you. Though for me and for many others, freedom also means living on your own, no strings.
Like someone once mentioned "Yes, I am a free spirit. Maybe too free but I want to be able to change".
I say: "Yes, I am a free spirit. Maybe too free but I do not want to change again".

Dear readers, my life changed too often. I am now at a point in life and at a place in this world that I feel free and happy. I do not want to change again. I want to stay put with myself.
Am I an egocentric person to say I do not want to share anymore?

Photo: Ike Roelfsema Photography

I like to believe I am not. And my close friends know I am not; intimacy as in friendship is important to me, it is rare and valuable. As it will be to many of you.



To those lovely people who still can't believe I am happy on my own, living  a fulfilling life, enjoying living with my animals in my little cottage so close to the beautiful sea, making long walks with my camera, absorbing solitude and nature, listening to the wind, tasting the rain, feeling the sun, spending time with dear friends, enjoying a good meal in the local Pub (the 'single' list is endless...): please accept this is my free will. I know you only wish me well and your intentions come straight from you heart but stop trying convincing me....  After all my credo is 'Fortis et Liber' (Free ánd Strong).

Change of subject....... ;-)

Lots of love,

Helen xx

Let's talk about the 'Man Flu'

This time of year, Winter, is known for the Flu flying around infecting old and young, male and female.
Half my village was ill due to a Flu to which an anti Flu injection was of no help: this typical Flu was not included....

I am very grateful that up till now and although I hugged a Flu victim, I haven't had any Flu symptoms at all. To be honest, I can not even remember when I had the Flu or when I caught a cold.
So no high temperatures, running noses, red eyes, sneezing and coughing, feeling extremely miserable for me.

For the healthy ones amongst us a Flu might not sound very serious and of course only temporary, but it can effect daily life tremendously. Feeling really ill and still being expected to do your daily (household) choruses and / or your job, is very disturbing.
And when you are a woman, you do not want to give in because you can not be missed (where ever you are needed). Who is preparing breakfast? Evening meals? Bringing the kids to school? Walking the dog? Doing the laundry? Etcetera, etcetera.

Not your male partner, he has this very busy and most important job with meetings and what ever more. Until.......
Yes, until he catches the 'Man Flu'. Far more worse than we females can imagine. The worst thing that can happen is catching it the same time. Blessed the ones with no other obligations than staying in bed with bottles of water to prevent dehydration and maybe a litre or so orange juice. And not to forget Paracetamol, boxes of tissues and paper bins to dispose them.

Where the majority of females suffer in silence, men suffer loudly. In our opinion they turn into feeble and moaning boys, exaggerating the severity of the symptoms.
The best thing you can do is making a bed on the sofa or move to the guest bedroom. What ever you do, the mourning and puffing will be heard throughout the house. You sigh and decide it is better to get up and care for him although you feel too sick to do so. But you are the caring female with the responsibility to look after the one you love. So up and running you are, suffering in silence but too proud to admit you would rather stay in bed.

Photo: Ike Roelfsema Photography ©

That Man Flu......
Ladies let me tell you, it exists! There truly is a Man Flu! Men do suffer more than women!
Dr Kyle Sue, a clinical assistant professor at Memorial University of Newfoundland, analysed relevant research and found evidence that adult men have a higher risk of hospital admission and higher rates of influenza-associated deaths compared with women, regardless of underlying disease.
Dr Sue also found that men are more susceptible to complications and higher mortality from many acute respiratory diseases, while some evidence supported men suffering more from viral respiratory illness than women because they have a less robust immune system.

Research has also found that pre-menopausal women are better at fighting off the common cold, thanks to a study of male and female cells.

Dr Sue’s study suggests testosterone may be to blame for suppressing men’s immune systems, while a female sex hormone boosts women’s. (Source Independent UK)

Ah, those testosterones, not equally present in all men. One has more than the other. That makes me think that the ones with too much testosterone, the male male, the ones who overrate their own attractiveness towards the other sexes, suffer more from the Flu than the ones who act less irresistible whilst they might still be very good looking! Or?
Here is a little home study to do for you: is your partner often a victim of the Flu? Often ill? Tell me, does he have an overdose of testosterone?
Or is he never ill due to a lack of testosterone? Is he then boring, not good looking, a low self-esteem?

When you give the research of Dr. Sue a proper thought, your relationship might become more interesting, challenging even.....
A different look on men, your own man....
Curious to your feedback.

Last but not least, today a real man convinced me he is, regarding the Male Flu, not that type of man.
Here is hope!!!
No, I am not going to reveal to you where he lives.....  I want to avoid against all costs that you ladies are blocking the streets near his apartment by queuing up at his front door.

Cheers!!

Helen