My life as an amateur. Part 63.

 Today is my birthday. I got some presents like trailrunning shoes with Gore-Tex found on Marktplaats, a novel from Anjet Daanje , ‘De herinnerde soldaat’, the third part of Gerbrand Bakker’s memoir published by Privé Domein, ‘ Moeder, na vader’. I am already very grateful. I made a hummus myself and the rest of the presents I still need to unwrap. I am writing, drawing and reading and I would like to see a film with Frances McDormand. We walked eleven kilometers, the shoes were great. A deer ran from us. Now here might be some drama. I am not sure if I should tell you about it. I am wondering how other people do this living. With the running, making works, having family you love and friends you like, sometimes, learning new languages, having a estranged body, reading books, running errands, the cooking….writing. Like an amateur.

Two things. After a week in France I walked the dog in our neighborhood. I always take the same route to check the little free libraries. In one of them I encountered a booklet with ‘notitions’ by Paul Léautaud: ‘Propos d’un jour’, 1947. In Dutch: ‘Een zeker tegengif’. I can not stop reading this very sharp and ‘honest’ or genuine and against hypocrisy writer. And I definitely want to study harder on the French language. Maybe I can become a different person as this politician promised on the television. Every language a new person. 

My father, his boat the Dreamer and his hospitality. He was always inviting ‘friends’ on his boat. Those friends would make fun of him. He didn’t see. My mother did. It was painful because my father thought he was giving them a very special time. He died at the age of 57. My mother didn’t invite his friends for the funeral.She died eight months later. Maybe I already told you about this earlier. I am sorry about that, I never read my writings again. Stop. I find it too embarrassing. And I would most probably stop writing. That would be a pity, wouldn’t it? ( I am not sure about the question mark )

My life as an amateur. Part 62.

 My favorite program on television is First Dates. I like it when there is a spark between two people. Just when they are going to announce if they would like to see each other again it’s eight o’clock and we have to change channels to watch the news. Today there is no news. Just me running too many hills by mistake so I was running late, followed by an oriole. For the rest of the day I did everything correctlOne day. stop. I would like to fall still. To clean everything away, still of mind, of belongings, of too much not me. Of unnecessary words. We are going to visit these friends. We see them every day. One day they visit us, the other day we visit them. This day I will bring my running shoes. They need some mending where my little toe  apparently needs more space. I will have something to do in case I get irritated. Yesterday I was reading some ‘Wuthering Heights’. Mrs Dean the woman in wait for Mr Lockwood is fetching a little sewing so she can sit and talk and do some gossiping as long as Mr Lockwood pleases.

I am wearing antique outdoor clothes three times my size. Where we live now there is an attic. In this attic there is a lot of different noises, especially during the very very early morning. We are amateurs according to birding so our first thought was that we had a whole bunch of Dormouses. But after great investigations it seems to be a pair of Barn Owls raising some very own Owl Chicks. Let me be square with you. I have great difficulties being locked up in me. I want to do everything at the same time because otherwise there is no time. That is why there is a need to abandon time and appointments. In the eighteenth century one had time to recover from an illness, you could take your time, like five weeks. And die young, at the age of thirty, quite normal.

Seamus Heaney said when one is learning to write poetry one should not expect it to be immediately good. That is good to hear. I hope my ‘My life as an amateur’ will be good one day. I hope Part 63 will be better. Stop.