Say it with words

It’s wonderful weather, Indian Summer. A gentle breeze is sweeping through our open windows making the french doors open and close to a rhythmic beat. A lot has happened in the last days. Thursday we were suppose to finally go on our summer holiday. For various reasons we had to cancel. I felt cheated of the one thing that offered the prospect of relaxation. Also I was missing out on a very close friend of mine’s wedding. Guilt doesn’t even cover my feelings. Instead another day at work was looming. Well shit happens, I try pragmatically to rationalize.

Thursday, 7 pm
A major argument later, and I landed myself in a bookstore searching for something meaningful to read. I picked up a book called Easy Money by the Swedish crime writer Jens Lapidus. It was in Dutch, so the perfect peace offering for my husband, if it wasn’t for that he hardly ever reads. Still… I weighed my options, knowing that he happily reads Baantje, read the Zahir when I first met him, and listened with great interest to The Shadow of the Wind, which I was reading to him on our way back from our last holiday. In addition, perhaps it would teach him a few things about Swedish culture which appears a mystery to him. 10 minutes later I was on the train back to Haarlem writing a personal note in the book…