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Posted by Mummy Dearest on Sep-13-2011

Poffertje came by today. She was bringing back my stuff. As an aside, it is very odd to think about what one would put in four boxes if one thought that one’s life as one knew it was over. What would you save ?

In any case, Poffertje came by.¬† We sat in the kitchen. I have changed so much. As always, at 9.30 in the morning, the kitchen looked like 10 minutes after, Hiroshima. But I don’t feel comfortable in the front room, I never have. So I brushed aside the dog snot on the door and the hair all over ( Destin seems to be molting) and we- or at least I- simply had a lovely time, sitting across the kitchen¬† table from each other, smoking too much. Swapping stories about our first attempts to make banana bread in the Netherlands and how Dutch beef can not become meatloaf ( thanks, Jo).

I like Poffertje so very much because she is very, very intelligent and and could talk paint off of the walls. I simply have to ask a question, and for at least a half an hour I am regaled with fine and witty stories, and I only have to nod. I am not much of a talker. I tend to be more of an observer. And I could see what was going on with her, not because I am so very clever, but simply because I know simple math : one and one is two. We are going to meet up again, after Bangladesh.

Suits me fine.

  1. Karan Said,

    Now I want to meet Poffertje!

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