I can’t help but notice that the BBC program Changing Rooms has become very successful in its US version, Trading Spaces. I’ve been a fan of the BBC version for years, and lately have become quite fond of another show in this genre called The Life Laundry.

The premise of the show is pretty simple : Dawna and Mark go to these homes that are filled floor-to-rafters with shit and help shovel it out. I mean, these cluttered homes make our place look tidy, hard to believe, I know and perhaps that is why I like the show : seeing, time after time, with my own eyes, that I really don’t have the messiest house in the northern hemisphere. Oddly enough, the messiest place in these homes tends to be the man-of-the-family’s office. Whew !

Last week, I went through our linen closet and finally threw out the bed linens from my college days. I graduated from that school in 1979. But they really were lovely sheets. So I can easily imagine Dawna and Mark darkening our doorstep one day.

Mummy Dearest : ( answering the doorbell) Dawna ! Mark ! Why, come in, come in !

Dawna: So, Mummy Dearest, from your file we have read that after 43 years of rebuilding, you finally want to get your house organized, and we are here to help you.

Mark ( who has been browsing around the living room ) Say, what’s in this little brass bowl ?

Mummy Dearest : Oh ! Those are Nabatean rim sherds. And that one there, that’s a bit of a Roman lamp. Cute, aren’t they ? One day I want to put them in one of those shadow-box like frames. I picked them up in Petra.

Mark : Oh, wow, really ? And when was that ?

Mummy Dearest : mumblemumble

Mark : When ?

Mummy Dearest : 1982.

Dawna, meanwhile, has been struggling to pull open a drawer. Mark comes over and gives it a good he-man yank. It is my photo drawer. It contains un-photo-albumed pictures from the last 3 years, as well as about 50 years worth of loose photos from my family. Dawna raises a questioning eyebrow towards Mummy Dearest, who blushes and says :

One day I’m going to put those in albums, see ( pulling open another drawer), I’ve already bought them. And, and the pictures are already sorted out..

Yes, we are prime candidates for ‘The Life Laundry’.

Sint en Piet zaten te bedenken
Dat sue nodig bij moet tanken
Weet je wat sue in het schoentje vindt ?
Een Chanel # 5 met de groeten van Sint.

Yes, that time of year is rolling around again, time to gear up for the arrival of the good Sint and his blackamoor helper, Piet, in the Netherlands. And so, I present my first Sint link of the year, the old and reliable poem generator, to help you compose the requisite poem that must accompany your gift this holiday season. In the first field, you fill in the name of the person who will receive your gift, in the second field, the gift that you will be giving them.

I filled it in for The Father as he always gives me a bottle of Chanel # 5 for any and all festive occasions. I could start a small perfume store, specializing in Chanel # 5, with the bottles and boxes I have of the stuff.

What I would really like is a fish tank. Oh well.

Yes, I know, a difficult name but perhaps of interest to a certain Arsenal fan that I know : Arseblog.

Thanks again, you are and always have been far too good to me.

I’m trying to find a pair of wooden shoes to give to The Little Prince as a baby gift. You know, a pair in about the size 23, with his name painted on them. Hard to find. But take a look at these wooden shoes. I am rather fond of the ‘ Salsa’ model.

The papers are saying that the storm caused 20 million Euro in damages. I can believe that. As I carried on with my usual routine during the day, small talk consisted of ‘ How did your place hold up ? Much damage ? ‘ . We received pretty high points in the my-damage-is-worse-than-yours contest because of that zinc drainage pipe that was ripped off of the back of the house ‘ Yowza, that’s about 100 piek per meter ! ‘. When you live in a town like this, everyone knows how much restoration and repairs cost.

All during the day, those little mini-vans that repairmen favor were zipping through town. As The Baby and I went to the store, we passed Y., dressed in his usual funereal black and as tense as a wire, talking to the owner of one such mini-van. I thought of stopping, to talk with him, but I could see that he was probably reciting his full C.V. ( as is his want) to the repairman and I didn’t want to interrupt him. It’s a rather long and complicated CV and I am a very polite person.

Later in the day our doorbell rang. I went to open it and there was Herman. ‘ Herman ! ‘, I said, ‘ Come on in ! ‘. He said that he was surprised that I remembered his name. Well, for at least 7 months I made the man coffee 3-4 times a day, so of course I remembered his name. I took him up to the third floor, where Jo was working . ‘ Yes, Jo is still here ! ‘. They shook hands and back slapped and it was just a fine old – boy reunion. My task was to keep the coffee pot full, which I did. I like Herman.

Other big news here was the report that Dutchy has done the deed, lost her maidenhead to the ( hopefully) virile Captain Moritz. I now find myself in the rather peculiar position of crossing my fingers and hoping that a dog is knocked up, has a few buns in the oven. Fine with me. I want some puppies. They will be doing an ultrasound on November 28, to see if she is pregnant. Sometimes, if I stop to think about it for a moment, I place a dog having an ultrasound up there with The Baby having a Sky Miles card of her own. But I just guess that these things are all a part of modern life.

We are in the midst of a terrible wind storm- winds of up to 130 km per hour. The winds have ripped the drainage pipe off of the back of our house and pulled up the main spine of tiles on our roof- we could loose all of the tiles. People are out playing in the wind, in front of our house, even though they can see the shattered tiles on the street in front of us. We sit and listen for people, to point out the obvious danger to them.

The police usually come and block off a street in a case like this, but they are too busy at the moment.

It should ease up at about 7. The tiles sound like bowling balls as they skitter off of the roof.

Continuing my shopping spree, I stumbled upon this site while looking for a copy of Edith Wharton’s ‘The Decoration of Houses’ : The Mount . The slide show has some lovely photos of the rooms- both before and after the restoration as well as a few photos of the lady herself.

Nice book store as well, must admit that the literary bird house catches my fancy.

What to do on a dark and gloomy day : snarf up a full bag of chocolate covered kruidnoten and buy books.

Oh, by the way, I talked to Oma today and it’s 20 degrees down by Milano.

L. is about the same as us.

The first worldwide index of press freedom has some surprises for Western democracies. The United States ranks below Costa Rica and Italy scores lower than Benin. The five countries with least press freedom are North Korea, China, Burma, Turkmenistan and Bhutan.