Who is the good guy?
Saint Nicholas or Santa Claus
November 15, 2009
November 8, 2009
Sunday and having the blues
Dear Bloggers,
I decide to turn on the washingmachine to get the last bits of this weeks laundry.
I just think of the past and I'm sitting down in the pantry to watch the spinning machine.
Gently I dream away and I'm back in my youth, my childhood home.
I sit in front of the washing machine and the smell of fresh brewed coffee tickles my nose.
I wonder where my mind was wandering to in those days.
Did I dream of endless beautiful things? Or what if my thoughts were darker then?
I do not dare to tell you, and retrieval of this time is not possible, unfortunately.
I will not say that my childhood was great, but it was not bad as well.
I was lucky that I grew up in a warm nest.
O.k. my mother was usually at home and when you came home there was always tea or coffee.
Now all that became different.
I'm the only one here who drinks coffee in this house and in most cases, I make it myself.
I've tried everything but I prefer to drink ordinary filter.
The family home was sold and my father lives in a seniors home, my mother has lived here aswell for a while. Unfortunately, she was already called to meet by our Lord.
Suddenly I realize that life can be extremely erratic. Suddenly, things happen in your life that are irreversible. Thus every part of your life has a good and a bad side.
As you grow older there are more so called “bad” things on your path.
More often there will be people around you that disappear and you will lose them to Grim Reaper. Furthermore, your body and your mind and you are declining slowly.
My best friend and I were in the diner, talking. As usual, it was very late and we were eating French fries with gravy. Like normal girls our age, we spent a lot of time in the diner while in college, and most of the time we spent talking about boys, music or trivial things, that seemed very important at the time. We never got serious about anything in particular and spent most of our time laughing.
As I went to take some of my medicine with a snack as I usually did, she watched me with an awkward kind of stare, instead of continuing the conversation. She then asked me out of the blue what it felt like to have Lupus and be sick. I was shocked not only because she asked the random question, but also because I assumed she knew all there was to know about Lupus. She came to doctors with me, she saw me walk with a cane, and throw up in the bathroom. She had seen me cry in pain, what else was there to know?
I started to ramble on about pills, and aches and pains, but she kept pursuing, and didn't seem satisfied with my answers. I was a little surprised as being my roommate in college and friend for years; I thought she already knew the medical definition of Lupus. Then she looked at me with a face every sick person knows well, the face of pure curiosity about something no one healthy can truly understand. She asked what it felt like, not physically, but what it felt like to be me, to be sick.
As I tried to gain my composure, I glanced around the table for help or guidance, or at least stall for time to think. I was trying to find the right words. How do I answer a question I never was able to answer for myself? How do I explain every detail of every day being effected, and give the emotions a sick person goes through with clarity. I could have given up, cracked a joke like I usually do, and changed the subject, but I remember thinking if I don’t try to explain this, how could I ever expect her to understand. If I can’t explain this to my best friend, how could I explain my world to anyone else? I had to at least try.
At that moment, the spoon theory was born. I quickly grabbed every spoon on the table; hell I grabbed spoons off of the other tables. I looked at her in the eyes and said “Here you go, you have Lupus”. She looked at me slightly confused, as anyone would when they are being handed a bouquet of spoons. The cold metal spoons clanked in my hands, as I grouped them together and shoved them into her hands.
I explained that the difference in being sick and being healthy is having to make choices or to consciously think about things when the rest of the world doesn’t have to. The healthy have the luxury of a life without choices, a gift most people take for granted.
Most people start the day with unlimited amount of possibilities, and energy to do whatever they desire, especially young people. For the most part, they do not need to worry about the effects of their actions. So for my explanation, I used spoons to convey this point. I wanted something for her to actually hold, for me to then take away, since most people who get sick feel a “loss” of a life they once knew. If I was in control of taking away the spoons, then she would know what it feels like to have someone or something else, in this case Lupus, being in control.
She grabbed the spoons with excitement. She didn’t understand what I was doing, but she is always up for a good time, so I guess she thought I was cracking a joke of some kind like I usually do when talking about touchy topics. Little did she know how serious I would become?
I asked her to count her spoons. She asked why, and I explained that when you are healthy you expect to have a never-ending supply of "spoons". But when you have to now plan your day, you need to know exactly how many “spoons” you are starting with. It doesn’t guarantee that you might not lose some along the way, but at least it helps to know where you are starting. She counted out 12 spoons. She laughed and said she wanted more. I said no, and I knew right away that this little game would work, when she looked disappointed, and we hadn't even started yet. I’ve wanted more "spoons" for years and haven’t found a way yet to get more, why should she? I also told her to always be conscious of how many she had, and not to drop them because she can never forget she has Lupus.
I asked her to list off the tasks of her day, including the most simple. As, she rattled off daily chores, or just fun things to do; I explained how each one would cost her a spoon. When she jumped right into getting ready for work as her first task of the morning, I cut her off and took away a spoon. I practically jumped down her throat. I said " No! You don’t just get up. You have to crack open your eyes, and then realize you are late. You didn’t sleep well the night before. You have to crawl out of bed, and then you have to make your self something to eat before you can do anything else, because if you don’t, you can't take your medicine, and if you don’t take your medicine you might as well give up all your spoons for today and tomorrow too." I quickly took away a spoon and she realized she hasn’t even gotten dressed yet. Showering cost her spoon, just for washing her hair and shaving her legs. Reaching high and low that early in the morning could actually cost more than one spoon, but I figured I would give her a break; I didn’t want to scare her right away. Getting dressed was worth another spoon. I stopped her and broke down every task to show her how every little detail needs to be thought about. You cannot simply just throw clothes on when you are sick. I explained that I have to see what clothes I can physically put on, if my hands hurt that day buttons are out of the question. If I have bruises that day, I need to wear long sleeves, and if I have a fever I need a sweater to stay warm and so on. If my hair is falling out I need to spend more time to look presentable, and then you need to factor in another 5 minutes for feeling badly that it took you 2 hours to do all this.
I think she was starting to understand when she theoretically didn’t even get to work, and she was left with 6 spoons. I then explained to her that she needed to choose the rest of her day wisely, since when your “spoons” are gone, they are gone. Sometimes you can borrow against tomorrow’s "spoons", but just think how hard tomorrow will be with less "spoons". I also needed to explain that a person who is sick always lives with the looming thought that tomorrow may be the day that a cold comes, or an infection, or any number of things that could be very dangerous. So you do not want to run low on "spoons", because you never know when you truly will need them. I didn’t want to depress her, but I needed to be realistic, and unfortunately being prepared for the worst is part of a real day for me.
We went through the rest of the day, and she slowly learned that skipping lunch would cost her a spoon, as well as standing on a train, or even typing at her computer too long. She was forced to make choices and think about things differently. Hypothetically, she had to choose not to run errands, so that she could eat dinner that night.
When we got to the end of her pretend day, she said she was hungry. I summarized that she had to eat dinner but she only had one spoon left. If she cooked, she wouldn’t have enough energy to clean the pots. If she went out for dinner, she might be too tired to drive home safely. Then I also explained, that I didn’t even bother to add into this game, that she was so nauseous, that cooking was probably out of the question anyway. So she decided to make soup, it was easy. I then said it is only 7pm, you have the rest of the night but maybe end up with one spoon, so you can do something fun, or clean your apartment, or do chores, but you can’t do it all.
I rarely see her emotional, so when I saw her upset I knew maybe I was getting through to her. I didn’t want my friend to be upset, but at the same time I was happy to think finally maybe someone understood me a little bit. She had tears in her eyes and asked quietly “Christine, How do you do it? Do you really do this everyday?” I explained that some days were worse then others; some days I have more spoons then most. But I can never make it go away and I can’t forget about it, I always have to think about it. I handed her a spoon I had been holding in reserve. I said simply, “I have learned to live life with an extra spoon in my pocket, in reserve. You need to always be prepared”
Its hard, the hardest thing I ever had to learn is to slow down, and not do everything. I fight this to this day. I hate feeling left out, having to choose to stay home, or to not get things done that I want to. I wanted her to feel that frustration. I wanted her to understand, that everything everyone else does comes so easy, but for me it is one hundred little jobs in one. I need to think about the weather, my temperature that day, and the whole day's plans before I can attack any one given thing. When other people can simply do things, I have to attack it and make a plan like I am strategizing a war. It is in that lifestyle, the difference between being sick and healthy. It is the beautiful ability to not think and just do. I miss that freedom. I miss never having to count "spoons".
After we were emotional and talked about this for a little while longer, I sensed she was sad. Maybe she finally understood. Maybe she realized that she never could truly and honestly say she understands. But at least now she might not complain so much when I can't go out for dinner some nights, or when I never seem to make it to her house and she always has to drive to mine. I gave her a hug when we walked out of the diner. I had the one spoon in my hand and I said “Don’t worry. I see this as a blessing. I have been forced to think about everything I do. Do you know how many spoons people waste everyday? I don’t have room for wasted time, or wasted “spoons” and I chose to spend this time with you.”
Ever since this night, I have used the spoon theory to explain my life to many people. In fact, my family and friends refer to spoons all the time. It has been a code word for what I can and cannot do. Once people understand the spoon theory they seem to understand me better, but I also think they live their life a little differently too. I think it isn’t just good for understanding Lupus, but anyone dealing with any disability or illness. Hopefully, they don’t take so much for granted or their life in general. I give a piece of myself, in every sense of the word when I do anything. It has become an inside joke. I have become famous for saying to people jokingly that they should feel special when I spend time with them, because they have one of my "spoons".
© 2003 by Christine Miserandino Butyoudontlooksick.com
It's nice that I can still write my thoughts and thus a part of my frustration is expressed.
It is not always easy to have an invisible illness and to make it visible to people who deliberately do not want to understand you. Do not be afraid to live, because sometimes it will be hurt.
The Old Sailor,
It's Sunday morning and the rest of the world is in a deep rest.
When I open the curtains it is foggy outside. if you can see 50 meter it is a lot.
I slander into the kitchen and spread a few pieces of bread and enjoy my simple breakfast.
The feeling comes over me, I slowly slip away into isolation.
I am feeling less and less at home in this village and this house.
The feeling of lonelyness crawls over me again.
I turn on the radio and pop music today can not tempt me, I change to a station with classical music. I enjoy the serenity as nobody is around and I turn on the heating.
Yet I get the cold not out of my system.
I realize that I do not that much lately and I am not as positive as in previous years.
I desperately wander lazily and in deep thought through the house. I decide to turn on the washingmachine to get the last bits of this weeks laundry.
I just think of the past and I'm sitting down in the pantry to watch the spinning machine.
I sit in front of the washing machine and the smell of fresh brewed coffee tickles my nose.
I wonder where my mind was wandering to in those days.
Did I dream of endless beautiful things? Or what if my thoughts were darker then?
I do not dare to tell you, and retrieval of this time is not possible, unfortunately.
I will not say that my childhood was great, but it was not bad as well.
I was lucky that I grew up in a warm nest.
Now all that became different.
I'm the only one here who drinks coffee in this house and in most cases, I make it myself.
I've tried everything but I prefer to drink ordinary filter.
The family home was sold and my father lives in a seniors home, my mother has lived here aswell for a while. Unfortunately, she was already called to meet by our Lord.
Suddenly I realize that life can be extremely erratic. Suddenly, things happen in your life that are irreversible. Thus every part of your life has a good and a bad side.
As you grow older there are more so called “bad” things on your path.
More often there will be people around you that disappear and you will lose them to Grim Reaper. Furthermore, your body and your mind and you are declining slowly.
Enjoying life has become different.
Previously I really enjoyed the bigger things like a holiday flight or a new volvo, now I enjoy the birds that feast on the fat globules in the birdhouse or the ducks in the pond nearby.
I note to myself that I'm satisfied quicker.
While I used to complete or fight myself to death for a better result, it is indifference or do I admit that my body is no longer capable to do this. Did the accepting of the new me start or am I starting to accept that I am aging?
I doubt the latter, though I must admit that I am not eighteen anymore, In my wanderings on the web I found the spoon theory and this shows marvelously how I feel, and what I can do, but that I should organize my time differently.
The lupus symptons are pretty similair to the fibromyalgia symptoms if it comes to pain, anxiety and being tired all the time.
The spoon theory
My best friend and I were in the diner, talking. As usual, it was very late and we were eating French fries with gravy. Like normal girls our age, we spent a lot of time in the diner while in college, and most of the time we spent talking about boys, music or trivial things, that seemed very important at the time. We never got serious about anything in particular and spent most of our time laughing.
As I went to take some of my medicine with a snack as I usually did, she watched me with an awkward kind of stare, instead of continuing the conversation. She then asked me out of the blue what it felt like to have Lupus and be sick. I was shocked not only because she asked the random question, but also because I assumed she knew all there was to know about Lupus. She came to doctors with me, she saw me walk with a cane, and throw up in the bathroom. She had seen me cry in pain, what else was there to know?
I started to ramble on about pills, and aches and pains, but she kept pursuing, and didn't seem satisfied with my answers. I was a little surprised as being my roommate in college and friend for years; I thought she already knew the medical definition of Lupus. Then she looked at me with a face every sick person knows well, the face of pure curiosity about something no one healthy can truly understand. She asked what it felt like, not physically, but what it felt like to be me, to be sick.
As I tried to gain my composure, I glanced around the table for help or guidance, or at least stall for time to think. I was trying to find the right words. How do I answer a question I never was able to answer for myself? How do I explain every detail of every day being effected, and give the emotions a sick person goes through with clarity. I could have given up, cracked a joke like I usually do, and changed the subject, but I remember thinking if I don’t try to explain this, how could I ever expect her to understand. If I can’t explain this to my best friend, how could I explain my world to anyone else? I had to at least try.
At that moment, the spoon theory was born. I quickly grabbed every spoon on the table; hell I grabbed spoons off of the other tables. I looked at her in the eyes and said “Here you go, you have Lupus”. She looked at me slightly confused, as anyone would when they are being handed a bouquet of spoons. The cold metal spoons clanked in my hands, as I grouped them together and shoved them into her hands.
I explained that the difference in being sick and being healthy is having to make choices or to consciously think about things when the rest of the world doesn’t have to. The healthy have the luxury of a life without choices, a gift most people take for granted.
Most people start the day with unlimited amount of possibilities, and energy to do whatever they desire, especially young people. For the most part, they do not need to worry about the effects of their actions. So for my explanation, I used spoons to convey this point. I wanted something for her to actually hold, for me to then take away, since most people who get sick feel a “loss” of a life they once knew. If I was in control of taking away the spoons, then she would know what it feels like to have someone or something else, in this case Lupus, being in control.
She grabbed the spoons with excitement. She didn’t understand what I was doing, but she is always up for a good time, so I guess she thought I was cracking a joke of some kind like I usually do when talking about touchy topics. Little did she know how serious I would become?
I asked her to count her spoons. She asked why, and I explained that when you are healthy you expect to have a never-ending supply of "spoons". But when you have to now plan your day, you need to know exactly how many “spoons” you are starting with. It doesn’t guarantee that you might not lose some along the way, but at least it helps to know where you are starting. She counted out 12 spoons. She laughed and said she wanted more. I said no, and I knew right away that this little game would work, when she looked disappointed, and we hadn't even started yet. I’ve wanted more "spoons" for years and haven’t found a way yet to get more, why should she? I also told her to always be conscious of how many she had, and not to drop them because she can never forget she has Lupus.
I asked her to list off the tasks of her day, including the most simple. As, she rattled off daily chores, or just fun things to do; I explained how each one would cost her a spoon. When she jumped right into getting ready for work as her first task of the morning, I cut her off and took away a spoon. I practically jumped down her throat. I said " No! You don’t just get up. You have to crack open your eyes, and then realize you are late. You didn’t sleep well the night before. You have to crawl out of bed, and then you have to make your self something to eat before you can do anything else, because if you don’t, you can't take your medicine, and if you don’t take your medicine you might as well give up all your spoons for today and tomorrow too." I quickly took away a spoon and she realized she hasn’t even gotten dressed yet. Showering cost her spoon, just for washing her hair and shaving her legs. Reaching high and low that early in the morning could actually cost more than one spoon, but I figured I would give her a break; I didn’t want to scare her right away. Getting dressed was worth another spoon. I stopped her and broke down every task to show her how every little detail needs to be thought about. You cannot simply just throw clothes on when you are sick. I explained that I have to see what clothes I can physically put on, if my hands hurt that day buttons are out of the question. If I have bruises that day, I need to wear long sleeves, and if I have a fever I need a sweater to stay warm and so on. If my hair is falling out I need to spend more time to look presentable, and then you need to factor in another 5 minutes for feeling badly that it took you 2 hours to do all this.
I think she was starting to understand when she theoretically didn’t even get to work, and she was left with 6 spoons. I then explained to her that she needed to choose the rest of her day wisely, since when your “spoons” are gone, they are gone. Sometimes you can borrow against tomorrow’s "spoons", but just think how hard tomorrow will be with less "spoons". I also needed to explain that a person who is sick always lives with the looming thought that tomorrow may be the day that a cold comes, or an infection, or any number of things that could be very dangerous. So you do not want to run low on "spoons", because you never know when you truly will need them. I didn’t want to depress her, but I needed to be realistic, and unfortunately being prepared for the worst is part of a real day for me.
We went through the rest of the day, and she slowly learned that skipping lunch would cost her a spoon, as well as standing on a train, or even typing at her computer too long. She was forced to make choices and think about things differently. Hypothetically, she had to choose not to run errands, so that she could eat dinner that night.
When we got to the end of her pretend day, she said she was hungry. I summarized that she had to eat dinner but she only had one spoon left. If she cooked, she wouldn’t have enough energy to clean the pots. If she went out for dinner, she might be too tired to drive home safely. Then I also explained, that I didn’t even bother to add into this game, that she was so nauseous, that cooking was probably out of the question anyway. So she decided to make soup, it was easy. I then said it is only 7pm, you have the rest of the night but maybe end up with one spoon, so you can do something fun, or clean your apartment, or do chores, but you can’t do it all.
I rarely see her emotional, so when I saw her upset I knew maybe I was getting through to her. I didn’t want my friend to be upset, but at the same time I was happy to think finally maybe someone understood me a little bit. She had tears in her eyes and asked quietly “Christine, How do you do it? Do you really do this everyday?” I explained that some days were worse then others; some days I have more spoons then most. But I can never make it go away and I can’t forget about it, I always have to think about it. I handed her a spoon I had been holding in reserve. I said simply, “I have learned to live life with an extra spoon in my pocket, in reserve. You need to always be prepared”
Its hard, the hardest thing I ever had to learn is to slow down, and not do everything. I fight this to this day. I hate feeling left out, having to choose to stay home, or to not get things done that I want to. I wanted her to feel that frustration. I wanted her to understand, that everything everyone else does comes so easy, but for me it is one hundred little jobs in one. I need to think about the weather, my temperature that day, and the whole day's plans before I can attack any one given thing. When other people can simply do things, I have to attack it and make a plan like I am strategizing a war. It is in that lifestyle, the difference between being sick and healthy. It is the beautiful ability to not think and just do. I miss that freedom. I miss never having to count "spoons".
After we were emotional and talked about this for a little while longer, I sensed she was sad. Maybe she finally understood. Maybe she realized that she never could truly and honestly say she understands. But at least now she might not complain so much when I can't go out for dinner some nights, or when I never seem to make it to her house and she always has to drive to mine. I gave her a hug when we walked out of the diner. I had the one spoon in my hand and I said “Don’t worry. I see this as a blessing. I have been forced to think about everything I do. Do you know how many spoons people waste everyday? I don’t have room for wasted time, or wasted “spoons” and I chose to spend this time with you.”
Ever since this night, I have used the spoon theory to explain my life to many people. In fact, my family and friends refer to spoons all the time. It has been a code word for what I can and cannot do. Once people understand the spoon theory they seem to understand me better, but I also think they live their life a little differently too. I think it isn’t just good for understanding Lupus, but anyone dealing with any disability or illness. Hopefully, they don’t take so much for granted or their life in general. I give a piece of myself, in every sense of the word when I do anything. It has become an inside joke. I have become famous for saying to people jokingly that they should feel special when I spend time with them, because they have one of my "spoons".
© 2003 by Christine Miserandino Butyoudontlooksick.com
It's nice that I can still write my thoughts and thus a part of my frustration is expressed.
It is not always easy to have an invisible illness and to make it visible to people who deliberately do not want to understand you. Do not be afraid to live, because sometimes it will be hurt.
The Old Sailor,
October 31, 2009
The preconceived opinion of the society
Dear Bloggers,
Slowly the autumn begins to enter and when I bring the children to school in the morning the leaves swirl around me. The first trees begin to bare all. I stroll on the pavement on speed dead easy (because of morning stiffness) trough this picturesque image and I am drifting away deep in thought. Until my youngest daughter suddenly pulls my arm and points her finger towards a toadstool. She also asked whether gnomes lived in there?
Suddenly I'm back in the real world and I tell her: “Well I think not, because I see no door or a chimney.” Meaningful is her gaze, her eyes he look at me intently. I give her the explanation that not in every toadstool lives a gnome. Meanwhile my brains are running at full strength. I have called the images in my head that this toadstool might be for sale and has a tiny sign in the garden. I laugh about myself and we continue our trip towards the school.
It drizzles outside and inside it is comfortable and warm and you would really like to stay here. (And while I hated school in my younger years.) But yes, staying is not an option. One of the students gives a swing to the copper bell indicating that the lessons start in about five minutes,. (So parents have to bugger off.) When I walk out of the door, I feel in my back a few eyes stinging and I think I can guess what these ladies will have as their next issue. “ Yes, the middle-aged unemployed seaman.” Yet I am not the one to be fooled, I greet them with a friendly look and walk quietly back towards our home.
I walk back turned into myself and start to giggle a bit and I think are there goblins without work? You normally see these little males usually armed with garden tools. It is not that they are the most active figures as I've never seen one of them move. Some goblins are fishing but this picture gives me even more to think. In my experience this is a sport for men who do not have sex. Because why else would you get up so early in the weekend to get out of a warm bed. And then sitting under a big umbrella staring at the extension of your genitals.
Yet it is easier to understand with goblins because you did not see many goblin females. Suddenly I realize something, this would be something not right? Are women oppressed in this culture? Tomorrow it will be in the headlines of newspaper de Telegraaf : “Dwarf men not affraid to use domestic violence.” Meanwhile, I arrived back home and I open the door, I make some coffee and listen to the radio. I make some telephoneconversations to ensure that at the end of the month again we will receive some money again.
When I pick up the kids from school it is around noon, I have decided to buy a winter coat for the little ladies. It is sunny autumn weather when we go on the bike towards the shops out there. Once arrived in the store with my princesses unfolds the grand celebration of the winter coats fitting.
We have a lot of fun and nothing is disturbing us. I am also suspiciously monitored by the saleswoman. A mother with children has just entered the store and she looks at me with an indignant glance at my oldest daughter when I say: “You have to choose a coat that is good and that you also should love to wear it because it is your coat.” I feel like a pioneer as seen in the sixties who fought for the rights of women. I fully enjoy this and help my youngest daughter pick out a total of seven new gowns. Walking in a hump of coats we move towards fitting room and again I get the same pair of Argus eyes that followed me earlier this afternoon. The saleslady asks whether we really need no help and i hear in her voice, that I am condemned to be the single father who knows all but has no control. As always I reply:” No thank you we are doing fine” and now I walk with mixed feelings through the store.
At one side I'm flattered and on the other hand, I feel hurt. After an hour we leave the shop with two brand new winter coats. As we are heading home on our bikes. suddenly I ask myself this question: What will my wife think of this? The weather is beautiful but because daylight starts to fade early, it cools down very quickly. My thoughts wander off again and I muse over past years. The years that I was a child. After playing outside you came home and often you would smell something nice that you could eat. Now I have to play that role. As it is already quite late, I choose to eat something easy.During diner those double feelings are there again and I really doubt myself. Actually now I recognize myself in the feelings that my wife must have had for years. She phoned me at work to ask what color the sun screen should have for example, she should buy. The children may stay up until mum comes home and of course to show the new coat. After dinner, we are still having some fun at the table and a little chit chat. When we hear the frontdoor open we are waiting anxiously. We have just hung up the new coats as they hung there for ever. My spouse comes in with one of the jackets and asks:” Who is this?” My oldest daughter also resolutely answers: “That is mine and I have selected it myself.” I am relieved that no vindictive remark follows a remark about the color or the scope: “Why was I not asked to go with you?” So I confirm to myself that I can do these things too. Yeah, Well I live in a "girls home" and the shopping I cannot escape from (not that I really mind.) I start to think again: Am I so different than all those other men? Do I have maybe one or more female gene, or are there are more of these dads out there?
At one side I enjoy my success and on the other hand, I doubt whether all this is normal. As the evening has fallen I sit with my spouse on the couch and then I doubt again. I'm too soft to determine what is on TV. My wife is usually has the remote and I must say I'm not really a typical male if it comes to preference for things such as football and Formula 1 racing. After all those years these things can not really fascinate me. Again I think: “Am I so different?” I just enjoy my time and I spend it with my children. The happy faces are magic to me when we do something fun again. Laughing I remember this afternoon with my girls. My youngest daughter took all seven coats that we had picked up and she said that she wanted them all to take home.
My answer was:”If that bold guy from the postcode lottery is coming along you can take all seven “ Bewildered the mother with children looks at me, after this remark she leaves towards the counter to checkout. I believe they fled the store because she was feeling uncomfortable. And perhaps because she also wants a man like this, and also one that could try things like this with his kids! Ok, I'm not a "superman" but then I do not play soccer on my free Saturday and on Sunday I am not going to fish. Once again I feel a bit double.
On one hand I am different and on the other hand, I enjoy all the time that I can spend with my “girls.” Luckely I am not so attached to the rest of the herd and pleased with myself. I am aware that the danger constantly lurks in me but I am not affected at this the point.
Enjoy of all the moments you get, because before you know they are gone.
The Old Sailor,
Slowly the autumn begins to enter and when I bring the children to school in the morning the leaves swirl around me. The first trees begin to bare all. I stroll on the pavement on speed dead easy (because of morning stiffness) trough this picturesque image and I am drifting away deep in thought. Until my youngest daughter suddenly pulls my arm and points her finger towards a toadstool. She also asked whether gnomes lived in there?
Suddenly I'm back in the real world and I tell her: “Well I think not, because I see no door or a chimney.” Meaningful is her gaze, her eyes he look at me intently. I give her the explanation that not in every toadstool lives a gnome. Meanwhile my brains are running at full strength. I have called the images in my head that this toadstool might be for sale and has a tiny sign in the garden. I laugh about myself and we continue our trip towards the school.
It drizzles outside and inside it is comfortable and warm and you would really like to stay here. (And while I hated school in my younger years.) But yes, staying is not an option. One of the students gives a swing to the copper bell indicating that the lessons start in about five minutes,. (So parents have to bugger off.) When I walk out of the door, I feel in my back a few eyes stinging and I think I can guess what these ladies will have as their next issue. “ Yes, the middle-aged unemployed seaman.” Yet I am not the one to be fooled, I greet them with a friendly look and walk quietly back towards our home.
I walk back turned into myself and start to giggle a bit and I think are there goblins without work? You normally see these little males usually armed with garden tools. It is not that they are the most active figures as I've never seen one of them move. Some goblins are fishing but this picture gives me even more to think. In my experience this is a sport for men who do not have sex. Because why else would you get up so early in the weekend to get out of a warm bed. And then sitting under a big umbrella staring at the extension of your genitals.
Yet it is easier to understand with goblins because you did not see many goblin females. Suddenly I realize something, this would be something not right? Are women oppressed in this culture? Tomorrow it will be in the headlines of newspaper de Telegraaf : “Dwarf men not affraid to use domestic violence.” Meanwhile, I arrived back home and I open the door, I make some coffee and listen to the radio. I make some telephoneconversations to ensure that at the end of the month again we will receive some money again.
When I pick up the kids from school it is around noon, I have decided to buy a winter coat for the little ladies. It is sunny autumn weather when we go on the bike towards the shops out there. Once arrived in the store with my princesses unfolds the grand celebration of the winter coats fitting.
We have a lot of fun and nothing is disturbing us. I am also suspiciously monitored by the saleswoman. A mother with children has just entered the store and she looks at me with an indignant glance at my oldest daughter when I say: “You have to choose a coat that is good and that you also should love to wear it because it is your coat.” I feel like a pioneer as seen in the sixties who fought for the rights of women. I fully enjoy this and help my youngest daughter pick out a total of seven new gowns. Walking in a hump of coats we move towards fitting room and again I get the same pair of Argus eyes that followed me earlier this afternoon. The saleslady asks whether we really need no help and i hear in her voice, that I am condemned to be the single father who knows all but has no control. As always I reply:” No thank you we are doing fine” and now I walk with mixed feelings through the store.
At one side I'm flattered and on the other hand, I feel hurt. After an hour we leave the shop with two brand new winter coats. As we are heading home on our bikes. suddenly I ask myself this question: What will my wife think of this? The weather is beautiful but because daylight starts to fade early, it cools down very quickly. My thoughts wander off again and I muse over past years. The years that I was a child. After playing outside you came home and often you would smell something nice that you could eat. Now I have to play that role. As it is already quite late, I choose to eat something easy.During diner those double feelings are there again and I really doubt myself. Actually now I recognize myself in the feelings that my wife must have had for years. She phoned me at work to ask what color the sun screen should have for example, she should buy. The children may stay up until mum comes home and of course to show the new coat. After dinner, we are still having some fun at the table and a little chit chat. When we hear the frontdoor open we are waiting anxiously. We have just hung up the new coats as they hung there for ever. My spouse comes in with one of the jackets and asks:” Who is this?” My oldest daughter also resolutely answers: “That is mine and I have selected it myself.” I am relieved that no vindictive remark follows a remark about the color or the scope: “Why was I not asked to go with you?” So I confirm to myself that I can do these things too. Yeah, Well I live in a "girls home" and the shopping I cannot escape from (not that I really mind.) I start to think again: Am I so different than all those other men? Do I have maybe one or more female gene, or are there are more of these dads out there?
At one side I enjoy my success and on the other hand, I doubt whether all this is normal. As the evening has fallen I sit with my spouse on the couch and then I doubt again. I'm too soft to determine what is on TV. My wife is usually has the remote and I must say I'm not really a typical male if it comes to preference for things such as football and Formula 1 racing. After all those years these things can not really fascinate me. Again I think: “Am I so different?” I just enjoy my time and I spend it with my children. The happy faces are magic to me when we do something fun again. Laughing I remember this afternoon with my girls. My youngest daughter took all seven coats that we had picked up and she said that she wanted them all to take home.
My answer was:”If that bold guy from the postcode lottery is coming along you can take all seven “ Bewildered the mother with children looks at me, after this remark she leaves towards the counter to checkout. I believe they fled the store because she was feeling uncomfortable. And perhaps because she also wants a man like this, and also one that could try things like this with his kids! Ok, I'm not a "superman" but then I do not play soccer on my free Saturday and on Sunday I am not going to fish. Once again I feel a bit double.
On one hand I am different and on the other hand, I enjoy all the time that I can spend with my “girls.” Luckely I am not so attached to the rest of the herd and pleased with myself. I am aware that the danger constantly lurks in me but I am not affected at this the point.
Enjoy of all the moments you get, because before you know they are gone.
The Old Sailor,
October 25, 2009
It became very quiet in my life
Dear Bloggers,
Due to the autumn holiday, our kids slept over our old babysitters house. I was at home with oly my wife and we decided for a change not to turn on the television. But just sit down at the kitchen table and discuss our future plans. We ended up talking about our old house and made drawings about what was needed to be done, if we could buy the “old” house back. We had very happy times there and we did not have a lot to worry about. Nostalgia was winning terrain and we left behind more realistic options. We could of course buy a bigger and more suitable house. But what would happen if I all of a sudden would call these people and make them an offer that they could buy our house for a few grant more. And these ideas are coming from someone that has no job, no money and no common sense.
It is about time that they come knocking on my door from the “Postcode Loterij” and let us win a reasonable sum of money. We do not need millions but it would be nice that we could realize this funny dream. Here we go again I simply got too much time to think and my brain starts to overreact. Strange enough I am not the only one that is thinking up these kind of crazy ideas. My wife is coming with even bigger plans for the same property. More and more I start thinking about it , and figure out that how stupid we have been to sell this house. Somehow I am doomed tomake these kind of mistakes in my life.
Somehow I think that I was not born for luck at all. As a young lad, I was not the smallest kid, actually you could call me chubby. When I was approximately seven years old, I fell off my pony and hit the stones in the road. My mum took me to the doctor and he told her that my arm was heavily sprained and I should stop whining. After three nights of no sleep as well for my mum and me, we went back to the doctors office. And my mum demanded to get some X-rays made of my arm. The doctor disagreed but my mum was very persistent and got a note for the hospital. At the hospital they gave the answer that the arm has been broken, but it had started to grow back together again. So they had to break it again to get it better located to make it at least a bit straight.
A couple of years later I was in the same hospital again. I was most of the time having trouble with my flu and having a chronic cold all of the winter period, so it was time that my tonsils were removed. A simple operation you will check in in the morning and in the afternoon you could go home again. Well this was not my case, after a few hours I was bleeding pretty badly and I was rushed back to the hospital. I had to stay there for a week to regain my streght as I lost 1½ liters of blood and my body could not cope with large bleedings or wounds.
My adolescent years did not pass without any scratches when I was sixteen years old and driving a moped, I slipped on a rainy evening and hit a lamppost. Consequences: A sprained shoulder and a damaged ego. And of course a lot of damage on my moped. A couple of years later I bought my first car. When you are young, free and single you might end up like me. I was running a bit out of time as I had to work that afternoon. And I started driving reckless but my speedlevel was unfortunate too high for the road curve that I needed to take. And yes I did hit the brakes but the only thing that happened was that I ended up on one side together with my car. Actually I was lucky that only the side of the car was scratched up and the mirror had broken off. I climbed out and pushed the car back on its wheels had a quick look at the damage and carried on with my journey.
After that there followed some periods that I was quite ok, except being lucky in love. I was a lot on the move with my friends, and we did a lot of drinking unless it was your turn to drive. At a certain point I realized this was not the best thing to do in life and I started studying again. During this period I met my wife. All of a sudden I found luck.
But not for long, as we just bought a house, I lost my job (not my own fault) and after a while I found a job on a cruise ship, when I came home again I had to get used to the daily things again.
I applied for a job on a ferry, but the stress was bringing back bad memories from the past. When the firealarm went off I totally lost it. In my army days I got involved with the Herald of Free Enterprise disaster, so I was back home again. Half a year later I sailed again for the same company on a smaller ship on a different route and in a different job. This went on for a few years and I did some jobs in between as the ship was charterd out or sailing on an other ships route, while their ship was in dock.
In the mean time I had became a lorry driver but I was missing the life at sea. At a certain point I had to stop with my job distribution for the Heineken company as the left side of my body was starting to give trouble. Extreme heavy pains where knocking me out, when I lifted a barrel of beer. Which had never been a problem at all, but now it felt that I had some broken ribs. I was diagnosed with costocohondritis (Tietze syndrome) from that moment I was forced to do an office job.
After a while I was sailing again with my old company as a receptionist. I really enjoyed what I was doing but all of a sudden my full body gave up on me. After a few months in the medical tredmill I got the diagnose Fibromyalgia. The company laid me off and at the hospital they told me that I had to change my lifestyle. Well let me tell you this: I would stop working if I could afford it. (time for the lottery to stop by my door.) I really hope that no one needs to deal with the idiots that I am dealing with now. It is nearly two months now that they should have send me money from the state of Denmark. But these bloody *#%@#+ ?!? can not find my journal back. It is just a bureaucratic nightmare. I think that they should offer me and my family a free holiday to Denmark when this is all running, all inclusive of course.
Make a wish when you see a shooting star, I will take cover as I am affraid that I might get hit.
The Old Sailor,
Due to the autumn holiday, our kids slept over our old babysitters house. I was at home with oly my wife and we decided for a change not to turn on the television. But just sit down at the kitchen table and discuss our future plans. We ended up talking about our old house and made drawings about what was needed to be done, if we could buy the “old” house back. We had very happy times there and we did not have a lot to worry about. Nostalgia was winning terrain and we left behind more realistic options. We could of course buy a bigger and more suitable house. But what would happen if I all of a sudden would call these people and make them an offer that they could buy our house for a few grant more. And these ideas are coming from someone that has no job, no money and no common sense.
It is about time that they come knocking on my door from the “Postcode Loterij” and let us win a reasonable sum of money. We do not need millions but it would be nice that we could realize this funny dream. Here we go again I simply got too much time to think and my brain starts to overreact. Strange enough I am not the only one that is thinking up these kind of crazy ideas. My wife is coming with even bigger plans for the same property. More and more I start thinking about it , and figure out that how stupid we have been to sell this house. Somehow I am doomed tomake these kind of mistakes in my life.
Somehow I think that I was not born for luck at all. As a young lad, I was not the smallest kid, actually you could call me chubby. When I was approximately seven years old, I fell off my pony and hit the stones in the road. My mum took me to the doctor and he told her that my arm was heavily sprained and I should stop whining. After three nights of no sleep as well for my mum and me, we went back to the doctors office. And my mum demanded to get some X-rays made of my arm. The doctor disagreed but my mum was very persistent and got a note for the hospital. At the hospital they gave the answer that the arm has been broken, but it had started to grow back together again. So they had to break it again to get it better located to make it at least a bit straight.
A couple of years later I was in the same hospital again. I was most of the time having trouble with my flu and having a chronic cold all of the winter period, so it was time that my tonsils were removed. A simple operation you will check in in the morning and in the afternoon you could go home again. Well this was not my case, after a few hours I was bleeding pretty badly and I was rushed back to the hospital. I had to stay there for a week to regain my streght as I lost 1½ liters of blood and my body could not cope with large bleedings or wounds.
My adolescent years did not pass without any scratches when I was sixteen years old and driving a moped, I slipped on a rainy evening and hit a lamppost. Consequences: A sprained shoulder and a damaged ego. And of course a lot of damage on my moped. A couple of years later I bought my first car. When you are young, free and single you might end up like me. I was running a bit out of time as I had to work that afternoon. And I started driving reckless but my speedlevel was unfortunate too high for the road curve that I needed to take. And yes I did hit the brakes but the only thing that happened was that I ended up on one side together with my car. Actually I was lucky that only the side of the car was scratched up and the mirror had broken off. I climbed out and pushed the car back on its wheels had a quick look at the damage and carried on with my journey.
After that there followed some periods that I was quite ok, except being lucky in love. I was a lot on the move with my friends, and we did a lot of drinking unless it was your turn to drive. At a certain point I realized this was not the best thing to do in life and I started studying again. During this period I met my wife. All of a sudden I found luck.
But not for long, as we just bought a house, I lost my job (not my own fault) and after a while I found a job on a cruise ship, when I came home again I had to get used to the daily things again.
I applied for a job on a ferry, but the stress was bringing back bad memories from the past. When the firealarm went off I totally lost it. In my army days I got involved with the Herald of Free Enterprise disaster, so I was back home again. Half a year later I sailed again for the same company on a smaller ship on a different route and in a different job. This went on for a few years and I did some jobs in between as the ship was charterd out or sailing on an other ships route, while their ship was in dock.
When we bought this house and just had moved in, I slipped on the stairs just after we had put our oldest daughter to bed. I tumbled down and crashed into the wall. Next thing I remember that I was rushed into the hospital by ambulance. I had been unconscious for a while. I also fractured a thumb and had a brain contusion. After a week I still had trouble walking straight and I fell over to the right all the time. Furthermore I had trouble with mathematics and all my language skills were gone (Dutch, German and English were needed in my job.) I took me a bit more then 1½ year to get my language skill back to a normal level.
In the mean time I had became a lorry driver but I was missing the life at sea. At a certain point I had to stop with my job distribution for the Heineken company as the left side of my body was starting to give trouble. Extreme heavy pains where knocking me out, when I lifted a barrel of beer. Which had never been a problem at all, but now it felt that I had some broken ribs. I was diagnosed with costocohondritis (Tietze syndrome) from that moment I was forced to do an office job.
After a while I was sailing again with my old company as a receptionist. I really enjoyed what I was doing but all of a sudden my full body gave up on me. After a few months in the medical tredmill I got the diagnose Fibromyalgia. The company laid me off and at the hospital they told me that I had to change my lifestyle. Well let me tell you this: I would stop working if I could afford it. (time for the lottery to stop by my door.) I really hope that no one needs to deal with the idiots that I am dealing with now. It is nearly two months now that they should have send me money from the state of Denmark. But these bloody *#%@#+ ?!? can not find my journal back. It is just a bureaucratic nightmare. I think that they should offer me and my family a free holiday to Denmark when this is all running, all inclusive of course.
Make a wish when you see a shooting star, I will take cover as I am affraid that I might get hit.
The Old Sailor,
October 19, 2009
Top 10 of passengership disasters
Dear Bloggers,
As I am an old sailor, I started wondering about the Titanic disaster as it was rainy and cold outside and I found it time to watch the movie again. The day after I started looking up the disasters of the past years that never became so famous as there were no rich and famous on board. This is what I found strawling on the net. I made a top 10. If it comes to tragedies the Philippines tops the charts for the World’s 10 passengership disasters in the last 20 years.
The ranking was based the number of casualties in a single maritime disaster. But three of the top maritime disasters in the past two decades happened in Indonesia. To my opinion it is shocking that taking risks at sea is not a very clever thing, it might go wrong one day.
1. MV Doña Paz (Philippines, December 20, 1987)
Passenger vessel MV Doña Paz collided with MT Vector, an oil tanker, along the Tablas Strait, between Mindoro and Marinduque. The collision ignited some 8,800 barrels of petroleum products that Vector was carrying at the time, causing a fire that rapidly engulfed the tanker and the Doña Paz. Subsequent investigations into the incident found that Dona Paz exceeded its passenger and cargo limits and that the Vector’s boat license had expired. Casualties reached 4,375.
2. MV Joola (Senegal, September 26, 2002)
The disaster happened within five minutes after MV Joola sailed to a sea of storm in the coast of Gambia. Various reasons for the disaster were cited, among them overcrowding, and negligence by management as the ship was not originally designed for sea faring. Death toll totaled 1,863.
3. MV al-Salam Boccaccio 98 (Red Sea, February 3, 2006)
Faulty drainage pumps and unpredictable weather were some of the reasons cited for the sinking of MV al-Salam Boccacio 98, a Roll-on/Roll-off ferry, into the depths of the Red Sea. Survivors and eye witnesses said a fire started at the storage area and, as the ship turned, it capsized and eventually sank. 1,018 passengers died in the disaster.
4. MV Bukoba (Lake Victoria, Tanzania, May 21, 1996)
The passenger steamer MV Bukoba sank in Lake Victoria causing 894 casualties while en route to Mwanza, a city in Tanzania. The steamer was already in bad shape before the voyage. It was also found out that the steamer was overcrowded.
5. MS Estonia (Baltic Sea, September 28, 1994)
The locks on the bow visor and bad weather caused this cruise-ferry’s demise. A total of 852 were killed during the tragedy.
6. KM Cahaya Bahari (Indonesia, June 29, 2000)
A total of 550 deaths were recorded after a storm hit and eventually capsized Cahaya Bahari, an Indonesian wooden-hulled ship, off the island of Sulawesi. The ship was overcrowded with refugees fleeing from the Maluku islands.
7. MV Nazreen 1 (Bangladesh, July 8, 2003)
The overcrowded MV Nazreen I sank at the confluence of the Padma, Meghna, and Dakana rivers, considered one of the most dangerous parts of the river from July to October. Casualties were counted at 528 although there’s no recorded number of passengers aboard.
8. Salem Express (Egypt, December 15, 1991)
The Salem Express, a roll-on/roll-off ferry sank off Safaga in the Red Sea as it was crossing the treacherous Hyndman Reefs. Because of the storm, the ship hit a reef, causing the bow visor to open, creating a hole on the starboard side. Water penetrated the ship which eventually sank in 20 minutes. Deaths were counted at 464.
9. MV Senopati Nusantara (Indonesia, December 30, 2006)
The Indonesian ferry sank due to a violent storm off Mandalika Island in the Java Sea. One survivor said that the ship rolled over before it submerged to the depths. Deaths were counted at 461.
10. KM Bismas Raya 2 (Indonesia, October 1999)
KM BIsmas Raya 2 caught fire while off Merauke, Irian Jaya. It eventually capsized and caused the death of 361 people.
For the World’s Worst Maritime Disasters for all time, Poland tops the list with the German liner Wilhelm Gustloff laden with refugees was torpedoed by a Soviet submarine in 1945. About 7,800 people were killed.
The Philippines’ MV Doña Paz disaster ranks 10th overall for the all-time list with about 4,375 people killed.
The Titanic is no longer in the list as it only have 1,517 people killed in 1912. Futrthermore it made me thinking about why a captain wants to go down with his ship. Also there I made a top 10 of reasons that I think is reasonable thinking for a captain. So here they come.
1.Customs and Traditions:
There are unwritten customs and traditions in the Navy which are followed by mariners since centuries. Some of them are hoisting Church Pennant, Dress ing the Ship, measurements by Fathom, giving Gun Salutes, Manning the Rails to give three cheers to honour the distinguished guests, Wardrobe Room. Captain preferring to sink with the ship is also one form of customs and traditions followed in the Navy. You may recollect on such occasions, that a pilot of the aircraft most of the times ejects, as there is no such custom and tradition to be followed.
2.Perform or Perish attitude:
The captain being the hard task master, when fails to perform with other words when he is not able to protect the ship and ships crew prefers to perish, which means he prefers to sink with the ship.
3.Moral responsibility:
Whatsoever may be the reason for the ship to sink, the captain doesn’t blame anyone till his last breath, but ensures that the ships crew is saved or rescued. He owes the moral responsibility for the mishap and prefers to sink with the ship. Such an act of owing moral responsibility is rarely seen in corporate bosses or head of an organisation.
4.Setting an example:
The captain being the No1 in the ship, has to be an example to others. He is the captain as long as the ship floats, but when the ship sinks he is no more a captain. Hence when the ship sinks he prefers to sink with the ship.
5.Mark of respect:
When the ship sinks, the captain sinks with the ship as an act of mark of respect to the ship he commanded.
6.Can’t live without his Lady Love:
The captain can not live without his Ladylove i.e. when his ship sinks. Ship is generally feminine. You may see my earlier post on this subject.
7.My ship and My command attitude:
The captain of a ship, functionally acts as a dictator. Because of this attitude, he feels he is right to sink with the ship when his command collapses.
8.An act of Sacrifice:
The captain feels guilty when the ship sinks and prefers to sink with the ship.
9.To be seen as a Hero or Martyr:
By sinking with the ship, the captain will always be seen as a hero or martyr. If he prefers to survive, he loses his name and fame and will have a miserable life.
10.Fear of prosecution:
If the captain prefers to survive, instead of sinking with the ship, definitely there will be Court-martial/prosecutions leading to disciplinary actions. In most of the cases the judgements will not be in his favour.
I hope I did not scare anyone away from going to sea, as I had some great years out there. Nature is doing what she wants with all of us. But if you see the sunset at sea you know why sailors fell in love with their job.
The Old Sailor,
October 11, 2009
Once upon a time
Dear Bloggers,
I digged in my archives and found this story that I wrote in Dutch in March 2008, It was a hard one to translate but it looks like it that i did it again. So sit back and relax here it comes.
Ok, Let me once again start telling about earlier times.
Yes, if you are getting a bit older you start with memorizing your younger days.
I used to think: When I grow up, or is it .... "When I am old?"
As a little boy I did not dream of being a fireman or a pilot.
I dreamed that I would be a cowboy and then it was not so much about the fact that I wore the popper, but more that I liked their roughneck personality and free spirit.
Also the fact that you should lead a nomadic life.
Endless prairies were in my thoughts and in my imagination I crossed them on horseback.
I often drifted off as I was still quite young, my wild dreams were shattered, because you just had to do your best at school and there would not be such a dream.
I therefore present my best side and do the utmost for my children that they will try as much as possible to realize their dreams.
My wife is not stopping me in this case.
Although it is hard to hear sometimes that your child cannot keep up with the rest of the class at certain studyparts, but on the other hand we are also still there to stimulate them and of course to help them.
The things they learn now is what threatens to hit back in a later school stage because some things they have not fully mastered.
Because unfortunately you are getting nowhere nowadays close to the barge without a proper education.
This contrasts with the time I lived during my childhood, when there were many who had only primary school and that was nothing unusual in those days. (Oh yes, that is called Elementary today)
But I had no idea that these people could trick you with their arithmetic skills, writing skills, or their topographical information.
I will not say that there were no stupid people then, of course they existed.
But why should we teach mental arithmetic?
No, need you have a mobile phone or a calculator for this.
And for the more complicated calculations we use a spreadsheet program on the computer.
The topographic information is now in the art of controlling the GPS navigation system.
Not to mention the art of writing.
First thing we have learned is to write complete sentences.
Now they have MSN or SMS language in which you can sometimes find no logic.
If they write: “Please wait” nowadays, they write:”pls w8”.
But I'm just in my forties, then you are according to the young people an older man.
Did I grow old too soon?
Did I become too old to dream?
Soon I probably get an automatically generated letter from somekind of institution that I must report to the club of elderly blokes that hang out with eachother.
In my youth you had respect for those "old men" who gathered every day at to the so-called "lie bench" where they spent many hours.
Overlooking the harbor.
Here they criticized everything that happened in the world.
And that world was much smaller than the world of today.
Ok there was a newspaper (printed on paper and a black and white TV and a radio but that was all technology available to our needs.)
Everything happens so fast nowadays and it is quite difficult sometimes to keep up with everything.
Yes, once the world was still very small but relatively safe for us.
The Old Sailor,
October 8, 2009
House For Sale by Lucifer
Saturday October 10 you can visit my house, so if you are a potential buyer have a look at funda.nl or come and see me between 11:00 and 15:00 hrs.
The Old Sailor,
October 4, 2009
I need a little help getting over being laid off...
Dear Bloggers,
I worked for the same employer for so many years, thought they were great (in some ways, still do) but was blindsided by a layoff due to health reasons. I loved my job, the customers, most of the staff, etc. It's been two weeks, and I'm just at a loss at what to do with myself to ward off the obsessing over every little thing that's gone on in my life in the last year. I keep trying to tell myself to let it go, can't change the past, etc. but it's literally what I go to bed thinking about, dream about and then get up about but still I am trying to keep busy, obviously looking for a job. I have unemployment insurance but the bloody state of Denmark is extremely slow with their payments and while things will be tight for awhile, it's not crucial that I am employed right away and I am very wary of continuing in the same field. I am so far applying for jobs that use my skills but are not anything like what I did before. I will still try to find a job working with customers.I'm interested in hearing other people's stories about what they did to ward off the laid-off demons, especially if you feel you ended up a lot better off !!
For me, the hardest part about being laid-off was not being able to control a major decision in my life. The company management makes the decision that there is going to be a lay-off, decides who will be affected, when it will be implemented, and what the terms are. The decision has the most profound effect on the employee. Getting laid off creates a ton of stress -- Will I get a new job? Will I have enough money? What about health insurance? But to top it off, it is a humiliating process.Then you have to follow up the lay-off with looking for work. Again, it is a process completely out of your control. You send resumes, emails, make calls and you may or may not get a response. The process reassures you that you are not in control of your career.
I dealt with it by countering the feeling of helplessness. I used my time off to take control of my health. I started cycling as much as possible on good days and getting into shape. I found an aspect of my life that was important to me and that I could keep in my control. At the time I had no idea that I was doing this, but when I look back now I can see that it was the most beneficial thing that I did to deal with the situation. And I don't want to set the bar too high -- I didn't turn myself into some sort of Ironman I just got some exercise, ate better, and lost some weight. But the important thing was that I was working towards something that I had decided. All that said, being laid-off was still a miserable, stressful, and lonely time in my life. I don't think it is all that unusual to be 'lost' for the first month. I know I had a hard time finding the motivation to do anything, including looking for work, during that first month. If for some reason your financial situation allows it, then let yourself take it easy for a month.
Unfortunatly my financial situation is bad at the moment and I had to give my case to an attorney to get things sorted. It is incredible how slow these things can work and that they still call it a social system. You get stressed already when you have to phone them, 48 minutes waiting time is far to long in my opinion but does not seem to be abnormal. (long distance call alhough inside Europe)
As soon as you are through you can sense the dispatchers panic as she has to speak English to me, instead of Danish but she is trying at least. Downpart of the phonecall is that my case is not investigated yet, so she can only answer a few of my questions. My case was sended to them a fortnight ago. On top of that I am battling with some sore throat problems and some flu kind of symptoms. If this is the swine flu I think I found a cure to stop it:
As soon as you are through you can sense the dispatchers panic as she has to speak English to me, instead of Danish but she is trying at least. Downpart of the phonecall is that my case is not investigated yet, so she can only answer a few of my questions. My case was sended to them a fortnight ago. On top of that I am battling with some sore throat problems and some flu kind of symptoms. If this is the swine flu I think I found a cure to stop it:
How we keep grip on the swine flu pandemic
As you know, the (Mexican) swine flu easily transferable via eg doorknobs, keyboards, taps, etcetera etcetera . Recent research has shown that the bacterium is very easily transmitted through the use of coins and banknotes. The bacterium attaches itself very well to the notes and coins which daily go through many hands, which is an increased risk of infection with it. To keep the swine flu outdoors, you can drop off your used coins and banknotes from now =For Free = hand them in to me. I will personally ensure that your capital will be destroyed. I will also ensure that the bacteria no chance to cause further contamination. You can either hand in your coins and banknotes with me or drop them off in the mail-box. The mail-box will be emptied and cleaned every day in order to combat infection. Spread the word ... Spread the word ... Spread the word ... of course if you live far away you can also send a cheque or ask for my bank account.
The Old Sailor,
October 2, 2009
The Sneeze
Is that water running from your nose?????
No it's SNOT !!!!!!!!!!!
Time to go and get your flu shot for all you chronic sick bastards.
September 27, 2009
Getting back to work has hooks and eyes
Dear Bloggers,
At the moment my challenge is to find a new job, which I can fill in with my needs so they fit better with my illness.
I've also applied for a job as a bus driver.
Most likely there is for the employer financially support possible for me to integrate within the company.
A part-time job is better than no job at all, and after all my efforts that I made to return to work and to get in such a condition again that working would be in the possibilities.
Research has shown that most people on benefits want to work.
But there are many obstacles, so face the unemployed and disabled.
The majority of people on benefits want to work.
This became clear from the published report. “Wel of niet aan het werk” of the Social and Cultural Planning Office and the Council for Work and Income.
Unemployed, disabled and workers were interviewed for the study of the report. The report shows that the willingness to work among beneficiaries is high. Of the people who are partially incapacitated, 57 percent wants a paid job. Even the wholly disabled says one in five that they want to work. The study also shows that many part-timers have the desire to expand their job. Of the respondents who have been unemployed and currently work, says 40 percent to work longer hours.
It is not always about the money that beneficiaries want a job, the study shows. The disabled have the need of other social contacts and a meaningful time use to be the main motives.
People in jobs who want to work more hours, give more money as a key reason.
People in jobs who want to work more hours, give more money as a key reason.
The report shows that disabled mainly because of health problems not find suitable work. In addition, they run around with the idea: “ I do not find a job” for a disabled or unemployed this is the main obstacle. The part-time favorite is the respondents: half would prefer between 12 and 35 hours per week.
There is much criticism of assistance to return to the workplace. More than half of the respondents experienced insufficient support in re-integrating. The Social Services, benefits agency UWV and re-integratoin companies scoring a thick below average. They get a 5.5 average on the scale of 10. With institutions like this it is often a lack of personal support. The return to work after long illness represents a serious problem for many. Half said they had been able to return to work faster if there would have been better measures taken, including a re-assignment or a different employer.
The reaction is far too slow in these passive, lingering organizations.
The reaction is far too slow in these passive, lingering organizations.
The report is a support in the back of the cabinet, more Dutch people will have to work. This is necessary to cover the costs of aging better able to absorb, but also to prevent people despite economic growth and labor shortages at the standard model. Beginning this year, said Minister Wouter Bos (financial minister) There is more work in the labor market. The most important issue in the Netherlands. Enough labor is offered - 700,000 work-wishers, was calculated in 2002 but remains unexploited.
There should just more projects being launched which not only long-term unemployed but also can be used for the disabled. The coalition government has already appointed a commission headed by TNT CEO Peter Bakker. That should make proposals for employment to increase over the current 70 percent to 80 percent of the workforce in 2016. This Taskforce Plus Part-time, that was installed on April 8, should also seek opportunities for part-timers, especially women, to encourage more working hours. The number of employed persons rose by 2.2 percent last year to over 7.7 million, but a relatively large number working in small jobs of less than twelve hours per week.
The Old Sailor,
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