Solitude

Today I read a beautiful poem, a friend gave it to me. He didn't remember the author's name. If the author may read my posting: please apologize for not mentioning your name, as I don't know.

The poem is in French, the words are worshipping friendship and comforting the reader for all lost friendships.

Here it is:

'La mort ne veut rien dire

J'ai simplement disparu dans la piece juste a cote
Je reste Moi et vous etes Vous

Quoique nous ayions ete l'un pour l'autre nous le resterons a tout jamais !

Continuez de m'appeler comme vous aviez l'habitude de le faire

Continuez de me parler comme nous avions l'habitude de le faire

Ne Changez rien au ton de votre voix!

N'accrochez pas sur vos visages un air grave et serieux, remplis de tristesse.

Continuez de rire comme nous avions l'habitude de le faire avec nos petites plaisanteries!

Amusez-vous! Souriez! Pensez a Moi! Priez pour Moi!

Garder mon nom au plus profond de vos coeurs comme vous l'avez peut-etre toujours fait

Laissez raisonner mon nom sans effort et sans aucune ombre teintee

La vie est plus forte que tout

Rien ne change: Parcequ'Il a une continuite intouchable!!

Qu'est ce la Mort? Sinon qu'un accident incontournable de la vie ?

Pourquoi serais-je hors de vos pensees parceque je suis aujourd'hui....'

The poem ends abruptly, as if there are more words to come. Who knows???

Today a dear friend wrote a farewell letter. He wants to live in solitude, he says 'farewell' to the world, for a while. Maybe we will meet again, maybe we will never meet again. Is there a farewell? The French poem says 'no' - united in spirits - lonely but not lonely - we all live our lives, a little bit of this and a little bit of that. An unknown French writer gave me the right words for this day. Today was a true vickxwonderworld-day.

aquaculture landscape

I received a newsletter from the European Commission, Research Information Centre. Headlines shouting: Aquaculture comes of age! Dead fishes illustrated the article.

And their glorious shouting continued. The European Commission wanted to teach me about 'aquaculture landscape'!

quote: "Each year, more than 160 million tonnes of fish are consumed by the world’s population. Almost half of this volume is produced in controlled environments, where the fish is cultured rather than harvested from the wild. The system, known as aquaculture, dates back thousands of years, and today operates as a welcome alternative to the sea’s over-exploited natural resources. A recent workshop hosted by the Reprofish and AquaBreeding projects (funded by the European Union at a total of EUR 383 014) highlighted the efforts in place to enhance industry practices and improve the quality of aquatic animals and fish reared in Europe."end of quote

What? Was this really true: aquaculture dated back thousands of years? My European teacher continued: it was invented by Egyptians and Chinese, around 2500 BC! But today, it was the most promissing fastest growing food-production sector.

quote: "'Most of the fish that people eat nowadays in many European restaurants come from the aquaculture industry,' explained Dr Olivier Kah, coordinator of Reprofish, a project funded by the Sixth Framework Programme (FP6) aimed at better understanding, accessing and communicating fish reproduction research."end of quote

And Dr. Kah continued, explaining his view on future: quote"'Reproduction is life,' said Dr Kah. 'If animals do not reproduce it is the end of the chain. It is a very complex function that involves a lot of internal factors — from an organism and interactions within an organism to input from the environment (such as temperature) — which help the organism decide whether it will reproduce or not. This is what we are trying to understand; why a fish starts reproducing, how we can control this mechanism, how we can master it, and use this knowledge to culture fish.'"end of quote

Is aquaculture really what we need, or what we want? I am not so sure about that! Anyhow, this item deserves a place in Vickx Wonder World.

If you like to read the article yourself, please go to:
http://ec.europa.eu/research/infocentre/article_en.cfm?id=/research/headlines/news/article_08_10_16_en.html&item=Infocentre&artid=8553

If you like to read more about mr. Kah 's organisation Reprofish, visit:

http://www.reprofish.eu/reprofish_eng/qu_est_ce_que_reprofish

Magnitude in Miniscule & Miniscule in Magnitude

Could you tell me: is this a painting on a rock, or maybe just a pebblestone?

The exact size is difficult to determine. Small, large, extra-large.

But we may say this is a stone. Although..... maybe it is a piece of scenery, made of paper. Or the painting is on linen, covering a stone.

It is all in the eye of the beholder, as the saying goes.

If you have time, have a look at this link: You will find images of the sun.

http://www.boston.com/bigpicture/2008/10/the_sun.html

A friend of mine sent me this link, without comment. The sun! I expected to see the sun in the way I am used to. The sun that brings daylight, warmth; the sun that bronz' my face, grows my garden.

But I entered a wonderful world. I saw images from far away, yet so familiar.

I saw an eye's iris and grains of a corncorb, the heart of a rose. A world in a world in a world. What was I looking at? Where there maybe little organisms living their own life, not labled in our words or thoughts? In perception of an entity - unknown of us? What is large? What is small? What is IS?

I found Magnitude in Miniscule and Miniscule in Magnitude.

Vickx WonderWorld.

beyond being starts existing

Sad news, sometimes I almost forget sadness is part of life, sometimes days are full of sad messages. Yesterday was a day of silent tears.

A woman I always knew as extremely elegant, intelligent and kind will die of cancer. Time left is only a matter of days. Days, her husband and she will try to celebrate, in memory of the beautiful years they shared together. Days of great intimacy. Difficult days too. It's hard to say goodbye.

Silent tears too, because of the death of an old woman who died unexpectedly in the arms of a friend of mine.

But at the same time I realized that beyond being existing starts. Existing in eternal light, bright and peaceful.

Yesterday's sunset was impressive. As if sky welcomed these two women.

As if heaven opened and scattered beautiful little orange and golden sprinkles in the deepblue sky. And I realized, once again: economic crisis, money, consumptions, stock markets, nothing really matters. We all are just little beings, maybe just little fungus, for which beyond being real existing starts. May peace be in your heart.

Oleg and his Papa

I don't know Oleg and I don't know his papa, but I like them very much. Papa is a truckdriver from Latvia and I saw his truck on a parkingplace at a German 'Autobahn'. Papa and Oleg are always together, also when papa is not at home. Oleg and papa, together in the truck's cabin. Maybe, little Oleg wants to become a truck-driver too. And maybe, papa is still a little boy (at heart), who wants to play football with Oleg and his friends when he returns to Latvia.

Good couple, these two. Oleg and his Papa.

Tribute to a stranger

You are in the center of this posting. I don't know you. We met in Paris, the other week. No, you did not see me. You lived in your own world.

From a distance I thought you were a statue. I had visited the Rodin museum that morning. I had seen wonderful statues, people captured in bronze. The Penseur, Thinking Man, impressive. So, for me, you looked as a modern statue, at first glimpse. A strong body, representing a working man, having a break.

How hard it was to face reality. You were all naked. Covered with some plastic. Your eyes staring. Pigeons tripping around and on your legs. You did not react. Old bread beside you. Not touched.

I could not reach you. You seemed like dead. You lived, not aware of living. Traffic passing by. In front of you: a street sign, parking place to the right. As if you had to make one more move. Not allowed to stay behind those plastic blocs.

An advertisement on the streetcar said: come and visit our musical 'The Lion King'. Paris night scene.

The only lion king I wanted to visit was you. You were beautiful. If Rodin had still been alive, you would have been his model.

What happened to you? You deserved better. I could not reach you, couldn't give you money, couldn't give you anything. You were travelling in your innerworld, leaving your beautiful body on a Paris pavement.

I could have been your mother, you were not older than 30. You made me cry.

Maybe, one day, some one tells you that a Vicky made a tribute to you. I do hope you will survive. May life be good to you.

Palestinians, Dutchies and Carnations

The other day, I heard an amazing story. An agreement had been signed.
Well, so far, not very special. But: it was an agreement upon carnations. Political carnations, you may say.
Carnations as a political statement.
I liked it. Say whatever you have to say, say it with flowers......

In this case, we Dutchies (our government) agreed to deliver carnation seed to Palestinians:
as we know, people derived from their properties, facing Israeli occupiers, unemployment and violence.

The beautiful thought behind delivering carnation seed is, that Palestinians find employment growing flowers and a solid exportmarket : we, Dutchies, will buy all Palestinian carnations in return.
It was not easy to realize this project. Diplomats had to convince the Israeli. Fortunately, the occupiers gave permission for this trade. Flowers are harmless.

I don't know who came up with this idea. But I like it! May many more problems be solved with the language of flowers. Flower Power Revival! What a great prospect. Me, wearing flowers in my hair, going back-in-time..... Senior-Hippies..... and hopefully: peace in the Middle East.

unexpected?

I like biking, very much! Not that I am a sportswoman, on the contrary! But I like wandering around by bike, following unknown paths, looking for the unexpected.

So I am an easy going one. In fact, I don't have a sportsmentality at all. I don't like to prove that I am 'the very best' in anything, I don't need medals to be happy.

This doesn't mean I don't like watching sports. In fact, I love it! 2008 is full of sportsevents.


First we had the European Championship Football. Good time: family-dinners and watching the matches on tele together. Spain as the right champion.
Then, tennis season: Roland Garros and Wimbledon. Sometimes spectacular matches! I will always remember the fabulous Wimbledon men's-final Federer-Nadal. Breathtaking, a real fight over many hours, with Nadal being the best fighter and right winner.

Now, I am watching tele to follow Tour de France. Because I like biking. I see giants climbing mountains I wouldn't dare to do so. I see cyclists racing little French roads, I used to explore searching the unexpected. I see the beautiful countryside passing by from my chair, I see Foix, Mirepoix, Montsegur, other places I know so well. While the cyclists do their thing, I remember great restaurants, nice people, lovely wines. But of course I also see cyclists fighting, I love watching the psychological games, the power of muscles, the best biking-materials. Tour de France has everyting in it: Tragedy and Romance.

I know, last year, there was tragedy. It was all about doping. Rasmussen, wearing the yellow shirt, had to leave the Tour. This year, the Tour-director declared that the organization would do its utmost to keep the Tour clean. All cyclists knew, doping had to be banned.

I watched good fighting, I thought.
I saw Ricardo Ricco from Italy winning twice, I thought.

In fact I saw a junkie winning, which means: losing. Yesterday he was found positive on using 3rd generation EPO. 3rd generation? Yes, indeed! Sports is all about money - 3rd generation EPO was supposed to be invisible in bloodsamples. And so, some stupid cyclist-cows tend to take dope to be the best, to get the yellow (or white, or green, or whatever shirt). They take a risk, just to be the best for one day. The best? What does it mean? Poor beggars!

So, again, a Tour de France, full of tragedy. Was this unexpected? Tour-Director said: 'no, not quite'. He also said: 'We will continue to bann doping - the battle must go on'. I wish him good luck. I am not a sportswoman. I don't want to be the best in something. Real sportspeople may be clean, some of them take any drug to cheat. What a pity.

Next month, another event starts: Olympic Games in Beijing - China. For sure, with more unexpected news to come up.

Miss Molly's Mystery Tour

Miss Molly is back in blog - Chips as well - Today: two new postings on Miss Molly's Mystery Tour.

Nuria and Giant

New Nuria story published, at www.nuriastories.blogspot.com
To be continued :-)

Horse&Rabbit&Horse&Rabbit?

Today I heard this true story - about very rich sheikhs, Saudi-Arabia, horses and famous stud farms. The story had all ingredients to write a romantic fairy tale. But in fact it turned out to be a horror story. Because of ......the RABBITS!!!!

So, what was it all about?

Rich sheikhs love horses and horse-racing - they love to own good racing-horses - they want to have the very best horses and they know where to buy them. Best stud farms are not in Saudi-Arabia. So, they shop abroad.

In this very specialized trade, of course, Customers are always Right, so if Sheikh Customer decides he wants to buy his promising racing horse in the embryo stage, he wil get his latest acquisition in the embryo stage. Guess why they want embryo-horse-delivery? Because it's easier to ship! So, Sheikh-Customer gets a special delivery!

Including: Perform surgery on pregnant mare - take out the embryo very carefully and implant little precious racing-horse-to-be in the womb of a rabbit.

A RABBIT????? Yes, a rabbit. WHY????? Because rabbits are easily to handle, nice, soft, warm and - most important - comfortable to travel in for Sheikh's thingummy. First class, little horse-rabbit/rabbit-horse-animal, is transported to the desert playgrounds.

And then, very very carefully, horse-rabbit/rabbit-horse is transformed again in two originals. A beautiful Arab mare is offering her womb for the embryo-gadget; best surgeons place little horse in this warm shelter to develop to a price-winner.

And Rabbit? Well..... here, my story-teller stopped. He couldn't tell me what happened to Rabbit.

Was she carefully operated by skilled professionals? Or was she roughly opened by a knife, left alone, as soon as the Royal Gadget was taken out? Did Royal Servants take her home, R.I.P. in an Arab rabbit-stew?

So, now I wonder, yes, I wonder...... in Vickx Wonder World.

I know, money makes the world turn around - money, money, money - we all know this lyric by Lisa Minelli. Embryo-shopping sheikhs in the World of Money - may we say: beyond dignity ?

Burping around

The other day I ended up in a take-away restaurant in Rotterdam's china-town. It was Friday-afternoon and the small-sized place was loaded. Some people were having a meal at one of the few tables available but I queued up. Finally, after ordering, I had plenty of time to look around. The crowd was as exotic as the menu. All varieties between black and white were there, united in liking this restaurant that day. Some of them enjoyed Surinam cuisine, others ordered from the Carribean or Indonesian meals. And all this food together gave a wonderful spicy aroma. It felt good, being there. People seemed happy, looking forward to leisure time in the coming weekend. This place was a colorful, bright one.

Yet, all of a sudden a dark cloud came over the place. A tall black man pushed his way through the gathered crowd. People stopped talking, everybody was staring at him. So did I. Who was this eye-catching person with a suggestion of evil around him? Was he about to rob the restaurant? Was he a blackmailer, offering so called protection to chinese community? He stood right beside me, waved with some money in his hand, and said: 'I wanna pay'. Phew!!!! The crowd started humming again, and while the waiter prepared the bill this tall guy and me looked at each other.

On his pokerface no trace of a smile, nothing at all, but..... was this really true? The man was burping!!! Little inner-burps escaped from his body in a funny way. I couldn't help it but I kept on staring at him. And then this giant showed he had a weak side too. He explained his burping to me, as if he wanted to make excuses. 'I can't help it', he said, 'I ate too much. It's the air, you know, I ate too fast, now the air must go out.' He looked a bit vulnerable. I nodded full of understanding. The restaurant listened in breathless silence. 'Of course', I said, 'this is just normal, it is good for your health.' Now he nodded, burped again, paid the bill and walked away. At the same time, evil left and the restaurant was a cheerful place again. I saw the man disappearing into Rotterdam's early evening. Who-ever he was, I liked him. My eyes had seen the little child inside of him, even the little baby-boy he once was; hanging on his mother's shoulder, caring hands patting his back, asking him to make little burps.

Please NOTE that all stories in VickxWonderWorld are under copyrigth of Vicky van der Hof.

Time Flies

When I started blogging, one of my friends warned me: blogging is like a drug - be careful - before you know you only are blogging all day long! I thanked her for her good advice; though blogging is a great way of communicating, there is much more in life to enjoy.

But noticing my last posting was more than 5 weeks ago, I wondered what I had been doing lately. Sure, days had been full of working, housekeeping and social events. Nothing particular came up in my mind, there was only a general feeling of peace and lightness, a kind of tralala-song in my mind.

My grandmother used to say 'dear Vickx, Time Flies' when she was over 80.

Right she was. Now, summertime is here. Soon, I will be travelling, Flying Time will be my companion. Stress and anger will not be in my basket. I'll stick to my own summerhit; indeed, a kind of tralala-song.

You are welcome to visit Nuria Stories and Miss Molly's Mystery Tour as well - updates coming up real soon!

Summertime madness

It was a sunny day, not just sunny, but real sunny, hot if you like. I went to the market, just to buy some fresh fish. And I went straight away back home, as soon as possible, as the fish was longing for the fridge.

The streets in Rotterdam city center were empty. People had gone for a holiday break. If not, they were at least checking internet destinations for a virtual escape.

I was about to open the door of my appartment building, when a stranger showed up. He was standing closely behind me and whispered: 'may I ask you something?'

I hadn't seen him, when entering the appartment's area, I hadn't heard his footsteps, I hadn't even noticed his shadow, but yet there was this strange man standing on a short distance. He was a foreigner, probably Arab.

What could be his question? I forgot my fish, I listened. The question came out of the blue. First there was this confession. The man had followed me all around the marketplace, he had waited outside the bakery as well, he wanted to find my home. O my gosh, an instant-stalker! And now he was here to ask one important question: If we could be together, to go out, to have a drink somewhere.

What to do? Just to shout and say: 'clear out!!' was too dangerous. In Holland there is this anti-discrimination-law - he could go to court and claim discrimination by being rejected because of being an Arab, even if this was not my reason at all.

So I decided to stay polite and to thank him for the compliment. Unfortunately I was not able to accept his invitation.

This 'no' meant nothing to him. He did not accept a 'no'. I was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, the way I walked was amazingly sexy, my eyes would be in his dreams for ever, and so on, and so on. After loads of compliments without the wanted result, he did some p.r. for his own: he was a technical engineer, in Holland for 8 years now, very intelligent. He needed an intelligent woman and he knew I was very intelligent too. So I had to accept his invitation.

Again there was my 'no'. I was happily married! I was not looking for some adventure!

Then he started to ask for my favorite pub, my name, my job, anything. I refused to give personal information, I just wanted him to shut up and if he had been just an ordinary Dutch guy I would have said so right away. But unfortunately I couldn't, because of that anti-discrimination-thing. A rather uncomfortable situation.

This little man, half a head smaller than myself, insisted in having a 'yes' he would never get.

Finally I was saved by the dripping fish. I told him that 'indeed, I was a very intelligent woman, and intelligent women know they must give a fridge to freshly bought fish on tropical days', so I had to say 'good bye'. It made some sense to him.

On that very moment a neighbour came along, and I started small talking to him, neglecting the desperate Arab who made one final attempt: he wanted to know my age. In return I asked for his age. He was only 33 years young. Young enough to be my son. I told him so. He couldn't believe it. He cried: 'No..... are you.... 48?!!' And I said, smiling: 'Not even that, I'm much older!' Big eyes stared at me: 'No, no..... you are lying, this is not true!'

Neighbour convinced him it was the truth.

After some silence he turned away, softly saying: 'sorry for bothering you.'

Fortunately the fish was not smelling yet - fish and I could use some refreshments!

Has Miss Molly anything to do with Intelligent Energy?

In the continuous story about Miss Molly, the new episode is all about monsters, Xmas-tree tails and Intelligent Energy.

Has Miss Molly anything to do with Intelligent Energy?

With Intelligence? Yes, for sure. Miss Molly is a very intelligent person.

With Energy? Mwah.... not so sure. In general, Miss Molly is a rather lazy person.

Read all about it on: http://vickx-missmollysmisterytour.blogspot.com/

The Nuria Stories

Coming up soon: the Nuria stories; tiny little stories with a philosophical touch. First introduction on http://nuriastories.blogspot.com/ - added to my favorite links.

Read more about Miss Molly

Has Miss Molly a dominant nose? Find out on

http://vickx-missmollysmisterytour.blogspot.com/2008/04/message-in-curlicues.html

A new born creature

Today something not quite unexpected happened. From now on, follow Miss Molly's Mistery Tour. You'll find the link on this blog. Have fun.

Monday Morning Rap

Well, talking about wonders...... the other day something funny happened. A little guy came to me, asking if I knew the word 'rap'. He was a rapper! He looked so proud, telling me this. Proud, and happy. He seemed surprised when I told him I knew what 'rapper' meant. It was like a way of life, right? Saying what you feel, in rythmic words, direct and open. 'Yeh', I was right. But, 'could I make a rap myself?' I accepted a challenge. Here's my rap. To Stevie's surprise and, let's be sincere and open, also to my own surprise!

No wonder, I felt inspired by my 'second' career as a senior going back to the office. So, let's rap about daily working life. May I suggest to imagine the sound of Tom Waits and some restrained beats behind the vocals?

Monday Morning Rap

Monday morning
Many must-do’s
Mind in wake-up mode
Must go now

Restore myself
Repeat to-do’s
Right, enough, join
Rushing hour Rotterdam

Good behaviour
Guided max speed
Go with the flow
GLX drivers driving slow

Then at last
The office’s there
Tasks for 8 hours
Ticking away, anyway

Pushing papers
Publishing notes
Plaudering peanuts
Plus meeting nono’s

Towards escape
The car, highway again,
Totally happy
True love at home,

Where I wanna stay ....

But then comes

Tuesday morning
Totally demanding ....

Say no more

It was not the first time, the unexpected became reality.....

As a child I always wanted to be an artist - a painter, a writer, a photographer, no matter, but for sure a Bohemian! Life would be wonderful, never a dull moment, filled with inspirations, colors and music. Well..... Life decided different. It took a long, long time to get in touch with the world of creativity. For more than 25 years I tried to find my way in the wonder world of many different jobs (and I liked it). Yet, when I did not expect this change at all, I got the opportunity to live the life of a Bohemian. I published my first novels and photos and creativity was 'all around my brain' , like Bob Dylan's cocaine-song.

Would this be for ever? No way! Opportunity knocked on my door and made me an offer I did not resist. Why??? My inner voice whispered: only for one year..... new experiences..... new environment.... write about it.....

Yeah, that was the trigger! WRITE ABOUT IT!

MY 'NEW' LIFE AS A WORKING SENIOR - BACK TO THE OFFICE, WHEN PEERS GET RETIRED.

Like to follow my little world of wonders? Join me in my wonder world - more postings coming up soon.