Today I've been baskin' in the summersun in our community-garden. After spending an hour or so in the hamoc I decided to make use of our jacuzzi. Delightful! Especially since I know all my London friends are accounted for after the dreadfull attack on the people's sense of security, last thursday.
Luckily the British are reasonably stubborn and won't let a few idiots change the way they choose to live. Hooray for the British! And although I tried to think of the thousands who die of hunger each day in Africa and the slaughter of dozens of innocent people in places like Afghanistan and Iraq, this time the bombings came very close to the world I personally live in. I don't know 'bout you but when some lunatic tries to blow up friends of mine, I tend to get seriously ticked of.
This past weekend my godson Matthijs and his mother Marjan came to spend a weekend with us.
Behaving as tourists we went to Madame Tussauds, where I applied for a job the following day.
Despite my visitors the Rocky Horror cast-rehearsal went on as planned. Neighbour Johanna came to see her son on sunday-morning and this time stayed for about twenty minutes. She's getting worse, I'm afraid.
Her illness (schizofrenia) is getting the better of her. To our son it has become normal that his friends point at a lady picking up sigaret-butts from the street abd he replies:"That's my mum..."
I guess it bothers me that he doesn't seem bothered.
Is it his defense-system or is there something else going on?