My life as an amateur. Part 38.

 This morning I am drinking tea. I drink tea a lot, coffee makes me jumpy. The mug says Measurement: Torque Sensors, Strain Gauges, Force Sensors, Pressure Transducers, Strain Transducer, Displacement Transducer and Load Cells. We can go for a walk now.

At the age of twenty two, a long time ago, I was a student at the University of Amsterdam, and I had a oral exam ( if that is the right description of the happening) on Literature of the Middle Ages. I knew all the answers to the questions, but I didn’t say a word. The road from my brain to my speaking organs was blocked. Luckily, the professor could read my mind and gave me a steady six.

I need to talk about some things that happened when I was young. But not now. I forgot what it was. Today we will walk a little walk and the subject will probably pop up. 

We walked eleven and a half kilometers and saw an aesculapian snake and a few dippers, lots of Dacia Logans and Dacia Dusters. Those reminded me of what I wanted to talk about: the dressing gown of my mother which she called a duster. When I was coming home with my first boyfriend, on a sunday morning, and the moment we stepped through the front door my mother screamed ‘oh no, I am still in my ‘duster’ and all, sigarette in her right and a glass of white wine in her left hand. She made us crackers with camembert and brie. That was really nice of her, as I think about now. My boyfriend liked her instantly.

My life as an amateur. Part 37.

 This is about sunday. And my laptop crashed. I am waiting for the fixer to open, I am way too early and am leaning against a wall in the sun. The laptop bag is heavy, I try not to take notice of this and I am posing leisurely while reading a book that popped out of my bike bag.

I am not that talented. In acting as if. This is another sunday and we drove to France. I didn’t fall asleep behind the steering wheel, so it's victory day. On a vide-de-grenier I bought a Levi’s corduroy trousers, far too big for one euro and I made a picture of a train station and of people waiting in line for a vintage ice cream. After that we drove further. This evening I am going to do my best not having to make a work. Except for his here. I thought about my mother on mother’s day. She did her best, you know, I was her mother too.

We were walking and heard the golden oriole singing. No one was there to hear. They never show themselves. In the next village

a cat was sitting very quietly in the middle of a zebrapath. A lot of traffic went through this village and even not that slow. But, now they did, stopped, people went out of the car to gently show the cat to the pedestrian side of the street. Left or right, I will never learn. On our way back home we drove through the same village and at the beginning their was this traffic sign triangle with three pussy cats on it. VICs.