A dream suitable for halloween

So this dream starts out somewhat normal. I am on the phone with friends of mine that are planning to visit us. My partner and I live at my parents’ house (don’t know why) so that’s where my friends need to go. They need directions, so I give the phone to my partner, so they can point them in the right direction. My friends arrive at our location, so we can go on to our home together. In the car I notice something strange with my leg.

There is a piece of white sticking out of my leg. I try to push it back, but don’t trust that will be the right thing to do, so I pry it back out. I fiddle a bit with it. It doesn’t hurt, but it is strange. I can take it out as well as push it in, so I decide to take it out. At this point I tell my friend to drive on to get to the emergency post, because I don’t trust the situation. My friend agrees and drives us there.

Once there we get to the reception desk. A woman takes a look at my leg and says it’s nothing. I don’t agree and ask her if it could be a piece of bone I’m holding. No, it could not, bone looked quite different. She shows me a piece of bone as a comparison. Identical twins couldn’t be more alike than the piece of bone and the thing that came out of my leg, but the woman doesn’t change her answer. It’s not bone and I can go home.

I don’t like the woman and keep pestering her, because the place where I pulled the bone out of my leg has a hole in it. You can see right through my leg, directly to what is behind it. That doesn’t look like nothing to me. Still she says I should just put a bandage on it. As far as she’s concerned I am whining. I decide to ask my friend to call my parents to let them know where we are. A doctor hears me and says she should say we will be there for a while, because I need more help than I am getting up to that point. And so I guess someone helped me, because this is the point where I wake up.

What the “bleep” did I dream? I look at the alarm clock and feel startled, I had forgotten to set it! It was already half past six, I should hurry if I wanted to get to work on time. Then I remember, o wait, it’s Sunday, I can sleep in. I remembered the dream, because of how weird it was. I get sick thinking about how I was playing with my bone. It wasn’t the only bone visible in my leg either. I wonder if I should get up to write it down, but hey, it’s early, I don’t want to get out of bed. This dream was so strange and still so clear in waking up even though I got startled by the time. I figured I would be able to remember until I had time to write it down.

Right now it’s two in the afternoon, I did still remember and I still get sick thinking about playing with my bones. Juck. Jep, this is a dream I need to share. Hope you enjoyed it, even though it was a bit short.


Coming out of the theater in tears

The greatest thing about my theater pass is the fact that I visit shows I would have skipped otherwise. Just before our vacation I saw a show that touched my heart and soul.

I had not heard of Erik Krikke before. Now I own his book “Surviving PTSD & moral injury” and the cd #breakthesilence that goes with it. Why? Because he gave me hope and the idea of a fighting chance against darkness.

Erik Krikke tells the story of his time in Afghanistan, where he was an operating nurse. He talks about the time before he went, his time there and how it was to come home. Behind him is the band 7even bridges. Even though they are not the best singers I’ve ever heard, they are the ones that touched me like never before. The heart you hear in the music is so beautiful.

Right from the start you knew it would be a special evening. Even though Erik tries to keep most darkness from his audience, you feel a bit of the pain and horror. It’s not strange people come away changed. From the moment he talked about his return I started to feel more and more uncomfortable. I started weeping silently, fighting against my tears. Grown men wept openly.

Almost everyone in the audience was touched. For me, many of his feelings hit home. It felt like he was describing my feelings at times, even though our stories are nothing alike. Then I heard a song about stepping into the light and breaking the silence. I knew then and there that was the song to keep me from sinking to far into my depressions. I had to find that song.

The song was played near the end, and I felt the tears flowing. It took everything I had not to break down then and there. I am so grateful this man is still here to tell his story, inspiring people. He might not feel the same, but I perceive a man that made and makes a difference. He said he would come to the bar afterwards, but I didn’t have the strength to stay for that, even though all I wanted to was hug this man. I sprinted out, wanted to get to my bike, because maybe my partner would meet up and ride home with me.

They didn’t. The team they support had been playing and they were talking with a friend, while enjoying a beer. How could they know I was so emotional at that point. I don’t blame them, but I left the theatre none the less, because I knew I wouldn’t be able to hold back the tears. All the way home (about 45 minutes) I cried band couldn’t stop. I cried so hard and ugly I couldn’t make a sound, but man did I feel relieved afterwards.

This has truly been the most impressive thing I’ve been to. I secretly hope they will make a video registration of it, because honestly, I’d buy that to. To think that the best evening out ended in tears and still is the best evening out… Wow!

Love dreamer

Parental fibbing

I’ve been brooding on this one for a while, for wen there would be a week without a good dream or adventure. Today I’ll tell you about the ‘innocent’ lies my parents told when I grew up. But I’ll start of with a practical joke my father pulled when I was very young.

As kinds we drank a lot of milk. I still love the stuff. My father drank buttermilk most of the time. As a kid you don’t see the difference, especially when the glass it’s in is still full. One day my father figured it would be fun to switch our glasses, so I to a big gulp thinking I had milk….. It was awful! Let’s finish this by telling you I didn’t wager a glass of milk for a very long time. You never know when butter was put in front of the word.

To get us to confess to things we did or didn’t do my parents had two tricks. The first one…. Whenever we had answered a question, and they had a very strong suspicion we hadn’t told the truth, example, did you brush your teeth, yes (no, I was playing, but I’m not gonna tell you), they told us to lift our bangs. Why? Because when you lie a cross appears on your forehead. When we would say we never saw it we got told only adults could. Of course that was it! Always hide your forehead if you’re not telling the truth!

Sometimes the forehead thing wouldn’t work. This trick was used for bigger stuff, like who used my mum’s paint to enhance the bedroom walls, or deface them, depending on if you were us or our parents. If we wouldn’t talk, and we were tough to crack, I’ll tell you that, my mum told us to get our coats. That’s the point we started sweating! Not our coats, that meant only one thing: we were going to the police department. If we wouldn’t tell her, well than the cops would have to figure things out. The horror!!!!! We didn’t want to be put in jail for our mischief, so the truth would be told in a hurry. Not jail, everything but jail.

Then there was the innocent lie to keep us from picking our noses. They told us things could go horribly wrong if you pick your nose, because if you hit the wrong spot your nose would melt of. Not fast, but slowly, you would lose it. You don’t want to know how many time I put my fingers on my nose to check if the thing was still there. Not just after picking my nose, but many times in between, just to make sure it was still there.

Then there was the fun lie my dad told us. He liked mischief a lot, so he told us not to swallow pits from oranges or mandarins. If we would it could result in a tree in our tummies. Every time I accidentally swallowed one of those pits I got frightened if I had a stomach ache right after. That would be the tree growing. It wouldn’t take long for branches and leaves to come out of my ears and nose!

There might be people thinking: that’s horrible! You don’t frighten a kid like that. Well I’ll tell you those are fond memories for me. My parents did everything they could to give me a terrific childhood. As far as I’m concerned they succeeded

Love dreamer

Vacation information

If you have read last week’s blog you already know I have been abroad. Today will be an update, written in the plane on the way home. There, something to deduct information. We had to fly to get to our destination. Why would you need to deduct? Because I haven’t told you where we’ve been these last nign days. And I don’t think I will. Not directly that is. But maybe the photo and blog will give you enough clues.

So this week my partner and I had joined custody over my phone, because of my clumsiness of last week. It is a strange thing not to have your phone at hand at all times. I had to get used to not being able to get the thing out whenever I wanted. After a while I got used to it though and to be honest it felt good to be free of that addiction. Don’t get me wrong, my partner will have their own phone to use once we get home and from that moment on I’ll be as addicted as ever, but is was a nice break. The upside for me is that every picture taken this vacation, has been taken with my phone, so no nagging needed to get my partner to send me any.

Now, on with other stuff. The day we arrived at our apartment I saw we had a decent swimming pool to use with just a couple of people, so I decided then and there I would swim lanes for half an hour each morning, before we would do anything else. Nobody used it that day, but that didn’t mean anything. So after our first night (the day of the phone disaster) I get in my swimwear, pick up my towel and go outside. Doubt creeps up on me, so I go to the reception desk to make sure it is oke for me to use the pool. It is, but it probably pretty cold. “That’s ok”, I said, and I turned to go for a swim.

The receptionist was right, the water was cold as ice. Leaves and feathers were floating like little boats and the pool was more of a green than the bright blue you normally see in pools, but I got in. Every day I swam at least thirty lanes and three of them I swam up to fifty lanes. I am pretty proud of that fact, because as you should know by now, I am usually lazy as hell. But my partner always says you should do things differently when on vacation and this time I definitely did that. I have been more active in the few days than I normally am in a year. Although I guess that changed a while back, when I joined the gym. O our God! I might become an active person!?!

Back to the swimming. The pool was green because of alge. The moment I got back in the apartment and in the bathroom I started skating like the floor was made of ice. Of course I couldn’t stay upright. I fell, but not to bad. A sore right but cheek even now and two days with a sore shoulder, it could have been worse. If you would take a look at the pool at this moment the spot where I entered the water and the spots where I made my turns are the bright blue the pool should be. Every day the water felt more like ice than the day before, but I kept going, go me!

My partner and I have visited city’s and villages and enjoyed ourselves in doing so walking lots of miles during those visits. One day we actually wanted to go hiking. We followed a trail and then lost the signs, using the phone to get back to the car. At some points it felt like survival, climbing steep hills of stone and sand, sometimes losing our footing and finding it again at the last second. I feel great about the hike, but I am glad we both got back alive. My sister’s first remark on seeing the route: “you hiked a cat!”

We have been to the bookstore that is said to have inspired J.K. to write H.P. beautiful shop, you have to buy a ticket to get into, but I don’t regret going in.

One of our visits was at this beautiful church. It had a trail with small chapels where you could see scenes of Jesus his story. It was breathtaking, so beautiful. Just take a look and if you ever go to Braga, visit Bom Jesus! I will leave you with some photos.

Love dreamer


Cas is a crude translation of a name we have in my language. It stands for clumsy and stupid. Crude because it approximates the name in my language, but doesn’t quite. Today my name should have been Cas. To be honest, it should be most of the times, but today it is painfully true. Why? Let me tell you.

My partner and I are abroad for some well deserved time off. How lovely. It is so nice to be able to relax and see another country while soaking in some sun. Thing is.. we have only arrived yesterday and today I proved once again I should be named Cas (sorry if your name is… I don’t want to offend anyone).

My partner and I decided to visit the bigest market of the country and while there we planned to visit the church. My partner entered the address of the village in Google maps and off we went. We didn’t encounter trouble getting there. Upon arriving the streets where packed with cars. There where situations of double and even tripple parking. We searched for a place to park the car and found one not to far off! Lady luck was on our side, or do it seemed.

My partner went to the parking meter while I stayed with the car. It took a while so I looked to see what my partner was doing. They looked confused. The they crossed the street to another parking meter. Again this confused look. I walk over to Them, telling Them to lock the car while I cross the street. The car gets locked and I hear the problem. Both meters don’t work. Great. Back to the car to find another spot to park.

My partner asks for their phone. I had it before because of us using Google maps, but as far as my memory went my partner had taken the phone. Nope, not true. I had it in my lap. Wait, what…… I had it. No I didn’t! I tried calling, no sound. My partner had noticed an old lady picking something up from the ground next to our car when I crossed the street, thinking she had dropped something. Now we knew better….

I have such a bad memory that I didn’t even remember my partners phone in my lap. When I got out of the car it fell to the ground, without me hearing or noticing. To bad for is, this old lady did notice. Even worse…. she just took it! And the youth gets the reputation! I panicked. How stupid could I be!

Next step… My partner walked down the street to see if they could spot the old witch while I kept calling their phone. Nothing. Then I walked all the way to the market while calling. Nothing. I had definitely lost my partner their phone. I cried out of frustration and disbelieve. I mean, I know I am a klutz, but why with an expensive thing as the phone of my partner. I can handle messing up with my stuff, but someone else’s!

Next step… get the sim blocked and make sure the bank knows the their app has to be blocked. Now that that’s done let’s go see the police. We are in a country where English isn’t the native language. The cop behind the desk didn’t speak English, but he quickly got a colleague that did. I explained the situation. The cop asked if we had an IMEI. I thought email. Shows you how much I know.

Wel long stay with the cops short, the cop that spoke English told the cop at the desk the story, so that the desk cop could write the report. He acted as our translator. While waiting we talked a bit and got some tips on where to visit. Another cop that spoke English entered and joined the conversation while the desk cop wrote up the report. My partner had to sign the papers. I wanted to know what it was that got signed, so I used my Google translate app to read the papers. It checked out, my partner signed. The cops will try to find the phone using the IMEI we gave them and we can press charges within the next six months if we want to. We said our goodbyes and thanked everyone inside for their help.

The day we wanted to visit the biggest market turned to the day we visited the local police. Neither of us had much interest in visiting the market now, so we left the village without seeing the things we intended. My partner was really nice to me, they knew I was already beating myself up and told me these things can happen.

We went to the apartment we stay in while abroad and after parking the car and putting away the groceries we went to this small bakery to buy coffee and lunch. After that we walked through the village, took some time for a sandwich at our apartment and went to this beautiful ruin village to walk through. From the church that’s build there we had a spectacular view on the village we stay in. That’s the picture I put with this blog.

Today has passed, nearly time for bed. I still feel horrible for what happened, even though these things can happen. They happen to me far to often. My partner is looking at it from the bright side (at least when talking to me, I know they are bummed out as well) telling me they already know the next phone they want. They better never hand that to me in future…. For now we have joined custody over my phone, until we get back home and get a new SIM to put in an old phone while waiting for the new one to arrive.

Love dreamer


Soooooooo…….. the personal trainer thing, discontinued by me, knees and hips don’t like it too much and started creaking more than they usually do. The using the Wii every morning, I love my bed too much. In other words, I fail…. Again.

I know, it is all on me. I should hang in and go on, but I don’t. Even worse, I don’t lose any sleep over it. It is wat it is. I should care more about is, but I don’t. Don’t I want to lose weight? Yes I do. Then why not do everything to lose it? Because I am lazy. I never said I am not, I know I am.

It is not like I don’t do anything. I try not to eat everything eatable within reach and I try to eat healthy things. I ride my bike to work (granted, electric bike, but still, movement). I am not cut out for working out and diets. I like good food and alcohol. So what I don’t fit into the small sizes? I’m an L to XL and I don’t mind.

I do try not to go bigger than I am though. And that takes enough effort as it is. I like to think there is more of me to love this way 😉

Whatever size you might be, if you are happy and reasonably healthy you should be fine with it. Don’t think you need to look like the supermodels, because you can’t live on a single leaf of lettuce and water. At least I don’t think that is healthy. You shouldn’t take it to the other end and eat everything you can. Be sensible, but live and love life, that is more important than being a stick. If you are a petite by build, good for you, enjoy it, it is beautiful to, but it is not the only beauty. Beauty comes from within, never ever forget that.



There are a couple of posts that are about being careful with words. Words I write down on the internet that is. I discovered I should take the same care in real life, because I am good at speaking my mind without thinking.

Obviously you can hurt people that way, or offend them, or something like that.
I have done that, without knowing, so let me try to correct it, online 😀

I befriended this wonderful couple. It started out with becoming friends with one of them at work, then I met her partner. A warm, caring, smart and beautiful man. I care for them both deeply. In order to make the writing and reading go smoother I shall give them fake names: Becky and Harry. I had never met his best friend Steven, but he talked about him a lot, as best friends do, so I had made a mental picture. I saw someone like Harry, sort of a Harry 2.0.

In my mind that is a compliment, it turns out, in Harries it is not, but that might have something to do with how I explained things to him, hang in there, we’ll get to that part.

In my mind’s eye I saw a man, just as loving, warm, caring, smart and beautiful. You know how we are all beautiful in our own way.
Harry is beautiful inside and out at least that is how I see him (and I know for sure Becky does too 😉 ). Harry loves his wife, making music, playing chess, watching good movies and a whole lot more, but aforementioned things are the things he talks about most.
I love hearing him talk, there is so much passion and knowledge! I love him for everything he is.

So now that you have a sort of mental picture (at least I hope so) let’s get to the part where I should have thought before speaking. The first time I met Steven was when Becky and Harry got married. As said, I had never met him, and the person that came in looked a lot different than my mental picture. In came a man that looked like an Italian cover picture, long hair, sharply dressed and looking like he was very much at ease with all the people surrounding him.

Now let me get this straight, Harry is not the complete opposite of Steven, he dresses sharply as well, but he has short hair and I feel Harry is more like me, not too comfortable with getting to much direct attention, unless it is from people he knows well.

I didn’t think about it, but foolish as I am I told Harry what I thought: I expected Steven to be a Harry 2.0, but instead here is this gorgeous man.

Yeah, not that nice if you think it through dreamer….
In my mind it would have been a compliment to be a Harry 2.0, but was I saying Harry isn’t gorgeous? I guess that is what it sounds like if I would have thought about it I might have rephrased it or not have said it out loud at all. You see, where Steven might have a classical beauty (the kind adds would use) Harry has the realistic beauty. The way his face lights up when he is talking about the things he loves or when he smiles. The way he is build. Harry is the one I would have had the courage to walk up to while I would shy away from Steven.

So dear Harry, please know in my mind being Harry 2.0 is the highest regard you can get.
You are the best.