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From tram to vegetable garden<br />
I have moved house, left the city. Don’t get me wrong, I love the city and<br />
its liveliness, the trees and the doves. But it was time for change. I did not<br />
I still can’t find my big tea pot. And perhaps it would be better to move the<br />
piano to the back room, next to the sliding doors.<br />
want to wake up to the chinking of the tram. I wanted to wake up to the<br />
sound of my rooster crowing. I missed the fruit trees in my gran’s garden.<br />
And I wanted to feed the chickens with Olle and let him taste radishes from<br />
our own garden.<br />
Refreshing breezes blow through the open windows. If I look outside I see<br />
the neighbour’s horse in the meadow, two swans in love in the pond next<br />
to it and finches on my washing line. I belong here. There is no such thing<br />
as coincidence: the house in which I was born was also next to a windmill.<br />
So we started on a new life and went in search of space, views and fields<br />
disappearing into the distance. An endless field of wheat is not boring. It<br />
is peace, and that is exactly what I need – it’s busy enough in my head.<br />
I enjoy rural life. Olle and I still snack like mad, but we now eat our own<br />
cherries, plums and blackberries. And a fresh lemon and apple pie can’t be<br />
bad for you, can it?<br />
The house hunt alone was unforgettable. We got the map out and all my<br />
girlfriends crowded round and gave us advice and told us about remote<br />
locations. We looked everywhere. Sometimes romantically with just the<br />
two of us, and often with Olle too. One visit went better than the other.<br />
Sometimes we could not find a house. Or it was not as rural as we had<br />
hoped. And the one time we simply never got there. Not because we could<br />
not find it, but because my head was like a sieve and I had completely<br />
forgotten that cars need petrol once in a while. So there we were, among<br />
all the bulb fields and we could do nothing but wait for help. Our knights<br />
in white armour were two humorous men, brothers who lived in the area.<br />
They had coffee in a thermos flask, a jerry can full of petrol, bright and<br />
shiny fluorescent jackets, and a golden tip. When we told the brothers what<br />
brought us to the bulb fields, the older brother pointed to the house next to<br />
the windmill. He knew that it would soon be up for sale and he told us who<br />
we needed to talk to. This just goes to show that chaos, my chaos, always<br />
The move has brought many good things with it. Not only for me, in case<br />
that’s what you think. Now that I have left the city, my old neighbourhood<br />
is definitely doing better. I now play the piano without disturbing anyone.<br />
And nobody trips over my bicycle anymore. I don’t want to go back to my<br />
old house, but I’m not going to lie. Moving house is also saying farewell.<br />
And I don’t like farewells. I have left my old, comfortable street. I have left<br />
Li-La, my sweet Chinese neighbour from whom I learned so much every<br />
day, simply because I am her opposite. Li-La is Zen. I bet that she never<br />
had holes in her tights when she was little. She is completely organised in a<br />
quiet and natural way. Li-La is never late, never loses anything and would<br />
never be stuck without petrol. Everything about Li-La is in balance. She<br />
created a beautiful little garden for everyone around the elm in our old<br />
street. She planted bulbs and cuttings and watered them until a small oasis<br />
grew in the stony street. I miss her every day.<br />
brings something good.<br />
I am now making moving cards and invitations for the housewarming.<br />
And so here we are then. My three older brothers helped us enormously.<br />
They may be teases, but if I need them they are always there for me. They<br />
stayed for three days and they worked terribly hard. They carried the piano<br />
to the front room, tiled the kitchen, and papered all the walls. Except for<br />
the wall on the landing as I stuck old card, letters and family photos all over<br />
it. I am thinking about where to hang Aunt Rieneke’s big embroidery and<br />
It’s a lot of puzzling, the whole table is covered with cuttings. Wonderful.<br />
Nothing is more inspiring than a new view. I now know what I will do with<br />
all the bric-a-brac that was in the attic in the old house. I am going to make<br />
bags. And I will give the prettiest bag to Li-La. I can’t wait.<br />
Love and kisses from PiP<br />
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