Chronicles Continued

Apparently on the chart of what a duckling must learn before being loosed on the world is how to fish by diving.  It was hilarious to watch whatever parent duck it was, chasing after them one morning this week and forcing the now much bigger ‘babies’ to dive.  At times they were paddling as fast as their webbed feet would take them, but parent of course was stronger and appeared to nip them on the tush.  There was a fair amount of squawking what in some houses would have been termed ‘back talk’. It was a sight to behold.  Did they learn?  Guess we’ll find out when they are cut loose.

Today, needing change to pay for my tulip bunch, I belled on at the door of the grower. This past week I had seen peonies at a train station florist shop. Asked the grower if following the tulips, they would sell peonies, [she corrected my pronunciation]. Yes, she said, in a couple of weeks. Can you imagine! A house full of affordable peonies! There is a tulip named a ‘peony tulip’ although it is beautiful it does not compare to the real thing, Have them in red. Will post.

Twice a year, a regional open house for real estate; a great scheme.  One Saturday in October and one in April between 11-3, all the houses for sale in the area can be viewed.  An opportunity to get a global picture of what is available and at what price.  So of course, I visited a couple.

Out the upper window I can see a small wooden float on which a duck is nestled on a flat nest.  Each day I watch the non-progression of a bird sitting on four eggs.  One day the partner duck added lily pads like a lace edge to the float; no blossoms, just the pads.  Day after day she sits and day after day he comes and relieves her.  He sits in her place.  At last the eggs hatch.  As soon as the tiny bird was free of the egg- one birth a day- it climbs onto the back of the mother under the wing feathers.  She allows them nestle between the feathers of her wings.  It is crowded with four.  The male duck brings food for all.  As they grow they leave one parental back and climb onto the other.  Then finally, one of them swims in the water.  The funniest sight is when a rather large baby crawls again between the wings/feathers giving the parent two heads.  [Imagine: in a car, driver and passenger, when a child hangs between the two front seats and it’s head is next to one of the persons in the front.  That is the look of the extra head next to the parent.]  The parent with the growing babies in situ sits lower in the water like a laden rowboat.  One has to be disciplined not to spend too much time watching for developments.

Wherever I live, it is important to me, to hang out wash.  Unlike the boat dwellers, I don’t have to hang mine out for all to see;  I have a back yard.  I’m certain, now and then they must receive comments.

Artists JanIsDeMan and Deef Feed asked tenants on Mimosastraat what their favourite books were and painted the answers on their buildings. Beautiful street art. Utrecht at its best! .

if you want to see it close up or in more detail… use the url above for more information. it is spectacular!

Thanks A!

There was no van Gogh museum when my mother purchased the prints in Amsterdam in the early 60’s. She was drawn to his art. Once home she had the prints framed and hung them in the breakfast room: Potato Eaters, Fishing Boats at Sea, Shoes. At least once a day if not twice, they were part of my consciousness. Then I left home and didn’t think about them again. Last week, I visited the van Gogh Museum, and suddenly her favorite works were there, hanging on the wall. It brought back memories and part of the emotion was akin to when you unexpectedly run into an old friend on the street.

The first I noticed was that the intersection suddenly had police-officers directing traffic. I am on my way to an outlying grocery store. Okay, on my way to an Aldi.   I hadn’t been in the store so very long when I heard a siren that sounded like a firetruck or an ambulance.  I went outside to look.  It was neither.  When the truck came into view it was the cab of a Big-Rig.  Just the Cab, but done up in spades; clean, shiny, polished and the logo of he company owning the rig, in bold letters.  Jumped on my bike -after loading my purchases and peddled to a family stopped along the bike path and stopping, asked what the occasion was, as I could see there were many Big Rigs coming. The Story: each year the regions handicapped are given a parade over a 50 km route.  The participants are young and old and there they sit, in the cab, waiving to the folk that have stopped along the path to wave back.  The cars now caught at the intersection however might not feel quite as magnanimous… as they wait for hundreds of big rigs to roll past.

To see them roll out.  go to  1.50 : http://onswestfriesland.nl/2018/nieuws/een-glimlach-in-de-trucks-van-truckrun-westfriesland-videos/

The black ribbons on the mirrors is to honor one of the founders of the Truck Run who passed this year.

My apartment of faces the street, and I love that.  I want to look and and see what the weather is:  are there umbrellas being carried, is everyone sleeveless to beat the heat, is the firetruck I hear coming going to be stopping in front of my building. This view of course brings with it more noise and night light than if I were living at the back of the building, but to me it worth it.  Found this ‘draft’ among my writings.  That takes me back a couple of years to the City where this all began!  The date was 17 July 2016.