Read: Wild harmonies

Another book review. After I finished reading counterpoint (last Tuesday evening) I made a bunch of train journeys, which means I could read a lot. So I finished another book already (finished it some days ago, but I had to make some time to translate the review).

I read ‘Wild harmonies’. Subtitle is ‘Life with music and wolves’, and it the autobiography of the French pianist Hélène Grimaud. Some time ago (could be a few years) I read an interview with her in ‘Le monde de la musique’, about the 5th piano concerto of Ludwig van Beethoven. She sounded inspired and all into the music. I was surprised when I walked through a book shop and saw a book with her name on it. But actually I find it a great idea, all famous (or even less famous) musicians should write an autobiogrphy. It’s a great way to tell the world your view on music. Music may be a universal language, everyone interprets it in a different way.

At some points I recognize myself in the person of Hélène: finding human interaction unnecessary at certain moment, finding piece, a new way of being, a new world, in music, extreme stubborness. The story could be about me at those moments, but in other things we differ like day and night. Hélène commits that she was a real problem child, that she seemed to have an obsessive-compulsive disorder. When her parents sent her to music lessons, she became different, more calm. She appeared to be a natural at the piano and was accepted to the conservatory of Paris at an extremely young age. After a lot stubborn decisions, one better than the other, she arrived in America. She meets her new friends, the wolves and ends up opening the New York Wolf Centre. The wolves help her to connect with nature, which changes her vision on music and the piano. Piano, wolves and Hélène Grimaud now live in perfect harmony.

I have a serious dogfobia, and yet I found it very interesting to read about the history of wolves. The legends, their intelligence, their relationship with human beings,… I almost felt a certain connection with these animals. The way Hélène describes her life in music is enchanting. Her life, her education, het brave decisions (wanting to do everything on her own), her vision on music, her relationship with other famous musicians,… Each musicians, wether he is an amateur, student or profesional, should read this. An amazing book, by an amazing pianist.

Read: Counterpoint

Counterpoint in the latest novel by the Dutch writer Anna enquist. The structure of this book is based on Johann Sebastian Bach’s Golberg Variations. A woman of a certain age, decides to study the variations one more time. Meanwhile she overlooks her life, remembering her daughter and son. Each variations is an episode of her life.

Writing is therapeutic for Anna Enquist, to process her daughter’s death. Yes indeed, she is the woman. Counterpoint is autobiographic, but Enquist keeps a certain distance from the whole story by not mentioning the novel is about her own life. De combination life story / information about the variations is great. Especially in the end, when the death of Bach’s son and the woman’s daughter come together in the same chapter, the same variation.

The whole book leads to the death of both children. The woman takes us along the road, we follow without protest. Death is emotional, touching, but music lightens the pain.

Cecilia and Chopin

I don’t like Chopin. I don’t like Chopin at all.

Okay, so I didn’t like Chopin. That changed slightly due to the numerous analysises of several Nocturnes, Waltzes, Etudes,… during the harmony lessons at the conservatory. In the end I even ended up buying ‘Impromptu, a movie about Chopin’s life.

A few weeks ago, I was watching L’auberge espagnole, in which the Waltz opus 64 Nr.2 symbolises the relationship between Xavier and Anne-Sophie. I downloaded the score and started studying. While I was listening to some interpretations on YouTube, I discovered that Alexandre Tharaud, who’s Ravel recording I thought was simply sublime, made a recording of the Chopin Waltzes. So on my next trip to the Fnac I bought that recording (as well as his recording of the Préludes). After listening to these two cd’s no one can possibly say he doesn’t like Chopin, not even me. My piano teacher was completely stunned by my change in music taste (two years ago, she had to force me to study the 6th Prélude).

Un grand merci à Alexandre Tharaud.

Read: Perdona si te llamo amor

Scusa ma ti chiamo amore (Sorry if I love you), is a novel by the Italian author Federico Moccia. His books are very popular in Italy, some of them have even been adapted for the screen. I bought the Spanish translantion, Perdona si te llamo amor, during my visit to Madrid in July. It took me a little over a month to finish reading my first Spanish book. It was definitely worth it.

Niki, 17, is in her last year of secondary school, while Alessandro, 37, is working as creative director, and has just been stood up by his fiancé, Elena. Niki and Alex meet when he accidently hits her motorcycle with his Mercedes. Although they have different characters and there’s an age difference of 20 years, they fall in love. Their relationship has some ups and downs, due to pressure of friends, parents, Elena,… but in the end everything’s well. And in the next book (Scusa ma ti voglia sposare, Sorry if I want to marry you) we can read if they lived happily ever after.

Is this chicklit or not? I think not. I thought the story was interesting to read, not completely predictable. The writing style was surprising and original. A good story, and a good translation. I really think I improved my Spanish by reading this. The more I read, the more I could understand complete sentences and noticed that I had learned new words, just by interpreting them. At the end of book, reading Spanish was like reading any other foreign language.

Quotes:

No hacemos nada bien hasta que dejamos de pensar en el modo de hacerlo.
We do nothing well, until we stop thinking about how to do it.

La vida se acaba sólo cuándo se deja de vivir.
Life only ends when one stops to live.

El secreto tras una victoria consiste en no volver a jugar. Hay que saber levantarse de la mesa en el momento oportuno. Todo el mundo es buen jugador, pero pocos son auténticos vencedores.
The secret of a victory exist in not wanting to play. One has to know to leave the table at the oportune moment. Everyone’s a good player, but only few are authentic winners.

El que gana, lo celebra, el que pierdo, lo explica.
He, who wins, celebrates, he, who loses, explains.

La felicidad no tiene que ser una meta, sino un estilo de vida.
Happiness doesn’t have to be a goal, but a way of living.

Did you know…

… that I was ReTweeted 3 times today? I posted the shortest viola joke ever: A violist went to a masterclass.

Early one morning

Lentamente
igual como se escribe un poeme
surge de la nada
el amanecer

Días de verano parte 3

The last part of trip: two days in Madrid and two days on the train, back to Belgium. It was strange to be back on my own again those last three days. But my head was still full of people, full of good memories, and full of 5 different languages.

Day 14:

I took me 13 days to get so tired I didn’t wake up at least 15 minutes before my alarm went off. No, today, I woke up 15 minutes after my alarm should have gone off, but didn’t, because I didn’t pull the button hard enough. So we woke up late and we were in a hurry, because we promised to meet  N (who was at the course last year). But our roommate didn’t bother asking us if we were in a hurry and if we needed much time in the bathroom (no) and she went to take a long shower. Grrrrr. We managed to be downstairs at 9.20, 5 minutes before N. Apparently she meant 9 o’clock Spanish time ;-) . She was very suprised we hadn’t seen the Plaza Mayor yet, so off we went. Furthermore we saw the outside of El museo del Prado, the botanical garden, the Atocha train station, the museo Reina Sofía and the Conservatorio Superior. And the we went to eat churros, because C and I both didn’t know what that was, which N almost saw as a crime.

Then C had to leave for the airport, and N and me went to visit the Catedral de Santa María Real de la Almudena. Very funny cathedral. It’s only been finished in 1980 and everything inside is very modern. No big trompe l’oeils on the ceiling, but motives from the seventies. Glass windows from 1999, not at all in the old glass window tradition. Modern sculptures and paintings, and al inscriptions in Spanish in stead of Latin. At first, I had to laugh, but I actually liked it. If we had this in Belgium, I could imagine that more people went to the church, because it doesn’t seem like something that ‘used to be hip’.

After I took pictures of the outside of the cathedral, I was showing N my pictures from Ávila and then, my camera shut down (I suppose the ‘low battery’ sign that had appeared a few minutes before was a warning). So no pictures of our afternoon in Parque del Retiro, which is by the way a great parc, bigger than all parks in Brussels together. We talked a lot, and enjoyed the shadow in the parc, and the finish this wonderful day together (and to cool off a little) we went to eat an ice cream. We’re going to do this again next year, and I promised N that I’ll try to speak Spanish then.

When I arrived back at the hotel, I got to know my roommates a little better: K from South Africa / London, Y from Venezuela / Canada, R from Brasil and C from Austria. We decided to go out for a drink together, all individual people, brought together in this big city. I had fun, although I noticed that my English is that good anymore. I’m used to speaking ‘foreigners English’ (‘I go eat, you come too?’, something like that). At times I could say a word in three or four languages, but not in English. Aaaargh. Wo knows what mistakes I’ve been writing here on this blog.

Day 15:

My last day in Madrid, I went out on my own. First I went to the Charmartin train station to get my ticket for France for the next day. Then back to Puerta del Sol to do some shopping (at Fnac, or did you really think I’d go shopping for clothes). I bought to cd’s by Amaral (Pájaros en la cabeza en Estrella del mar) and two books by Federico Moccia (Perdona si te llamo amor and Tres metros sobre el cielo). Moccia is Italian, but I suppose translations from Italian to Spanish are better than those to Dutch (this is a hint, never buy a Dutch translation of any book). At least these books are easier than La sombra del viento, of which I don’t understand much (yet).

I spent my afternoon in the museo Reina Sofía, heaven for contemporary arts enthusiasts like me. I really like the paintings by Joan Miró and the photographs of Francesc Català-Roca. And I was surprised by the various pieces of video art. I even recognised the painting by Magritte. But my favorite piece was the Indistructable Object, a giant metronome. I already saw it’s ancestor, the 26cm high Object to be Destroyed in Brussels once.

When I arrived back at the hostel at 5 o’clock, I was so tired I decided to take a nap (OMG, I was already becoming Spanish, doing siesta, eating late, listening to Amaral). After my nap I packed my bags again (I had been throwing a lot stuff in my locker, and all those things still had to go in my suitcase, help) and the I went to the Parque del Retiro again, this time with my new book, so I could read. And after dinner straight to bed.

Day 16:

Thursday morning, 6 o’clock: tututututututututu. Aargh, so know my alarm works. Way too early to get up, but I didn’t want to take the risk to miss the train. I arrived at Chamartin one hour early, time enough for a nice breakfast. At 7.30 I bought a (Spanish) news paper and went to the right platform. On the train, I was sitting next to … indeed, a mother with two children. A girl, aproximately 6 years old, and her little brother, around 1,5 or 2. I actually enjoyed it. They weren’t annoying at all. The little boy was funny, I played with him for a while and this long trip seemed to be quite short.

We arrived in Irún 4 minutes late, left for Hendaye immediately, but had to wait more than 10 minutes to enter the station of Hendaye. Of course, I (and with me dozen of others) missed the TGV to Bordeaux and Paris. When we asked the SNCF-ladies why they didn’t keep the TGV waiting, they answered: ‘You came with a train from Renfe, it’s not our responsability when the Spanish train has a delay.’ But we had to wait to enter the French station!!!!!!! Aaaaaarrrgggghh.

Ok, off to the info desk, to ask if I could use my TGV ticket on the next Corail to Bordeaux. On my way there I met an Australian couple and a girl from Kenia / America who didn’t speak any French. I offered to help them and translated all the lady at the desk explained us. Then we went for a coffee and meanwhile we had an interesting talk about our cultural differences. After a long journey I arrived in Bordeaux and went straight to the hotel. I already missed Spain. Even at 8 in the evening, there is nothing to do in Bordeaux.

Day 17:

The last day of my trip. Only travelling. Rue Huguerie – Gare de Bordeaux Saint Jean – Gare de Paris Montparnasse – Montparnasse Bienvenue – Paris Nord – Gare de Paris Nord – Bruxelles Midi – Hasselt – home. And then it was all over. No regrets at all. I had a great time, met a lot of great people, had a lot of very interesting clarinet lessons and a lot of fun. Now I can start thinking about what I want to do next year. And start practising my Spanish.

Días de verano parte 2

Day 9:

On Thursday, we had the honour of being the first ones to have class with RC, who had only just arrived. His way of teaching resembles that of our own teacher, H, except that he only speaks in one language at the time. I played Weber (Concertino), and R made me think about the dynamic changes, something I hadn’t payed much attention to before. Again I got complimented about my tone colour, which apparently improved a lot since last year.

At 12.30, we had ‘taller’, cleaning our clarinet, which was quite useless with me, as my clarinet had just been revised a few months before. Choir rehearsal should have started at 4, if only the conductor hadn’t been told it was at 4.30. Small misunderstanding, but bass clarinetist E started conducting, and all was well in the end.

At 8 there was the first teacher’s concert, which is always of high quality (extremely high, compared to the bad Portuguese guy), and after dinner we had our first quartet rehearsal.

Day 10:

Finally, lesson with DV. We had been looking forward to this day the whole week. The man is French, and the French like to talk (a lot). So, he’s always happy to have student who understand him (Spanish people usually don’t speak French, DV doesn’t speak Spanish, and only a very funny sort of English). He keeps talking and talking and talking to us, and everything he says is very interesting.

I wanted to play Lutoslawki, because D is an expert at contemporary music, but because L already played it, I chose Saint-Saëns (French music, so that should be interesting too). D helped me understand the lines better and taught me how to study technical parts, by playing them in different rhythms. C and I, both do that when we study piano, but never thought of trying it when playing clarinet. D asked me to come back the next day, to show that I can play it when I study it the right way.

No swimming pool, group lesson about studying scales (with DV), tiring rehearsal and the second teacher’s concert, which was even more interesting than the first one. And after dinner, we (C, R, me, and M, who seemed to like C very much) went out for a granizado.

At the square, there was a street theatre festival going on. We decided to go and watch it. While R and me were already sitting on the grandstand, C stayed behind with M, who began asking her strange questions. Suddenly, they appeared behind the grandstand, and C called up to me: “Help, I can’t get rid of this guy, I don’t like him.” I started talking to her in Flemish, and it seemed that he understood the hint, while he just walked away. C made me promiss never to leave her alone with him again.

Day 11:

After a very short night, we had our second lesson with JS, this time with the pianist. Because we both didn’t know what to play, we decided to try the Krommer double concerto. Justo liked it very much, he even suggested we’d play it at the students concert, but in the end we couldn’t, because we had already signed up for S’s quartet. After this interesting lesson on a new piece, I went to DV’s class, to show him what I’d learned about Saint-Saëns. It was clearly better than the day before, much more ‘deciso’, almost loud enough, and a much more fluent technique. If the man spoke Spanish, he would have told me “sigue así”.

We I finished playing, he started talking again, due to which we missed lunch. C, I and R (who had lesson with DV before me) went out to eat. And of course, we were back 10 minutes late for choir rehearsal. When we arrived, everyone was silent. Apparentely conductor H had lost his temper because there was only 1 bass clarinet present. He left, be luckily he returned when the bass clarinets had arrived and when E and S went to asked him very polite if he would please return. After all, it was our final rehearsal. So after J had given us a speech about how unprofessionaly we (and especially the basses) had behaved we continued.

No more problems after that, except that C and I didn’t know the Spanish word for clothes pins and we had to wave and make gestures to our concert master S for a few minutes before someone realised what we needed. The concert was great, better than last year. The soloist were good and the public definitely like our encore ‘Ávila, muy bonita ciudad’ (Yellow Submarine). After the concert we went out for a granizado, and then off to bed.

Day 12:

Sunday morning, lesson with EV. Lots of student were still in bed (or had only just gone to bed). I played Finzi, and I played it good. E also commented me on my sound. Unlike H, who always tells me that for me ‘p doesn’t excist, and f is always ff’, he asked me to play very subtly. I understood exactly what he wanted, and I finally understood Finzi completely. After my lessons, C and I did nothing but ‘descansar’, to be rested for a visit to Madrid.

In the afternoon, R, C and I tried some barrels, but the conclusion was that my barrel is the best one there is. Am I lucky or what. At 5 we were ready for the guided tour through Ávila. Our guide R had been studying, he knew a lot more little details than last year. Quite interesting. Unfortunately the tour wasn’t as long as last year, because we had to be in time to hear the final of the competition. We arrived just before M’s speech. At 10 we had our last Ávila dinner and we went out for a last granizado.

Day 13:

I got up at 6 on Monday, to pack my bags (why do those always look smaller when you go back home?). Apparently we had our last lesson with H again, our own teacher. We knew there were some changes in the programm, but we didn’t understand which ones. This was one of them. He asked me and C to play Krommer again, and he really worked on the very very small details. Every note had to be together, have the same color, the same attack, the same intonation. Tiring, but interesting.

After we played, we went to H’s wife, O, who showed us how to present our quartet to the public. And before we knew it everything was over. The course, the concert, and we were on our way to the station, to take the train to Madrid (like last year, S and J brought our luggage with the car).

In Madrid, I (an oboist who studied in Brussels last year) came to pick up S, and C and I took the metro to our hostel. Apparently there’s a direct line from Madrid Chamartín to Puerta del Sol, and in the Sol metro station, there’s an elevator going all the way up. Aaaarg. Last year we went to the metro station Opéra (which is maybe 200m closer to the hostel) and we had to haul our luggage all the way up, because there’s no escalator or elevator. Who’s idea was that, huh? Whoever’s it was, it was a stupid idea, we know now better. We went to bed early, to be rested for Natalia’s guided tour through Madrid.

Some pictures of the second part of my trip:

Días de verano parte 1

I like, apart from clarinet, training (by which I mean travelling by train). Training and citytrips. This summer I was able to combine the three of them, which resulted in my most special, adventurous and musical holiday ever. Here is what I want to share with you.

* To keep it private, I will only use the first letter of everyone’s name. If you want more information on the teachers of the ‘Curso Internacional de Clarinete Julián Menéndez’, let me know in a comment, and I can send you an email. Also, I will write names of cities and certain typical cultural things in the original language. If you need translation (which I doubt), request for it in a comment.

Day 1: Bruxelles – Paris – Chartres

I arrived in Bruxelles 45 minutes early. Half an hour later, the Thalys from Köln arrived. But what would the railways be without delays? We had to wait 25 minutes for the other part of the train (which came from Amsterdam) to arrive. In Paris Gare du Nord, it was easy to find the metro entrance, but not that easy to get a ticket. Well, actually it was easy, but I lost 15 minutes because of the stupid tourists in front of me (okay, I was a tourist too). First there was this Australian group, who couldn’t quite decide what kind of ticket they needed. After discussing, and entering their wishes into the machine (and changing them again), they discovered they couldn’t pay with paper money (and they didn’t have VISA). Grrrrrrr. Next, a group of Chinese people, who did exactly the same thing. Grrrrrr. I, on the other hand, only needed a minute. Off to take the metro to Montparnasse, but of course I just missed my train to Chartres. Luckily it was a TER train, so I could take the next one without any further reservation.

Chartres is a beautiful small city. In the middle the magnificent cathedral, and around it, lots of small streets and charming little bridges. The youth hostel was outside the center, but the view on the cathedral was worth the walk. I had some difficulties understanding the employee of the hostel (he mumbled terribly), but I was glad I can speak some French, because his English would probably have been worse. And then there was my roommate who also expected me to be fluent in French. She spoke so fast, I could understand only half of what she said.

Day 2: Chartres – Le mans – Nantes

I arrived in Nantes at 12 sharp, but unfortunately, the youth hostel was completely closed until 4pm.  Luckily the Jardin des Plantes (something between a parc and a botanic garden) was right across the station, so I went there with all my luggage and read a few chapters in Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince.

The youth hostel didn’t have normal keys on the dormitory doors, but cards, which they activate when you arrive. Worst system ever, it took me half an hour (and three activations) before the card worked (quite) decent. Then off to the center to do some sightseeing. Compared to Chartres, Nantes wasn’t so charming. By the way, do you know which architectural structures the French like most? I’ll tell you. Big empty squares, straight lines and war monuments. But the last square I encountered wasn’t empty. There was a summer festival with a band playing folk music. A great ending of a less interesting day.

Day 3: Nantes – Bordeaux

Half an hour delay on the Corail Intercité from Nantes to Bordeaux (and always people with small children behind or next to me), but I arrived in Bordeaux at a reasonable hour. The weather was a little strange, so I visited the city by tram. And after that, a quiet night (without roommates, because I stayed in a hotel, due to no lockers for my clarinets in Bordeaux’s only youth hostel).

Day 4: Bordeaux – San Sebastián

After a fluent trip across the Spanish border, I was able to test myself, by buying my ticket from Irún to San Sebastián in Spanish, which went quite well. I could even understand the man when he told me the price of the ticket and when he said which from which platform the train would leave. San Sebastián exists of water, sand and tourists. Not really my favorite place to be, but it was nice to see the sea again.

Day 5: San Sebastián – Valladolid – Ávila

After a short night (19 roommates, most of them very noisy) it was time to leave for Ávila, where the musical part of my holiday would start. The part from San Sebastián to Valladolid was very comfortable, in an Alvia train. The 1 and a half hour from Valladolid to Ávila was in a local train, that stopped in stations in the middle of nowhere. When I arrived, I realised I didn’t know the adress, nor the name of the school the course took place in. I guessed, but I remember that we went wrong last year, and when the road started to go down, I decided to ask someone (in Spanish). The woman asked me if I spoke English (she was new in Spain, and her Spanish wasn’t very good). We started looking for the name of the school. ‘That’s it’, I said when she came to Colegio Diocesano. Apparently, her niece, who was with her, goes to school there. They walked all the way up to the school with me.

As it was only 3pm, I was the first one to arrive. But luckily I could wait inside until R from the organisation arrived at 4.30pm. My classmates S and C, and R, who will be Erasmus in Bruxelles next year, arrived when I had already unpacked everything. After a stroll through the city, there was the usual welcome speech. I understood a lot more than last year (when I only knew what time dinner would be).

Day 6:

C and I, who now belonged to Grupo C, had our first lesson from LG, a Portuguese teacher. His Spanish was quite good (I could understand it, and translate for C), but he could also speak English (pfeww). I played Martinu (Sonatina), and we really worked on the very small details, which was quite interesting. The only thing I didn’t like at all was his way of pushing the tempo across my limits, far across.

In the afternoon, we have a bit of free time (siesta), ensemble rehearsal, and an evening concert, which today included a bad Portuguese clarinetist trying to play the Brahms Sonatas.

Day 7:

Our second lesson was with JS, which was a surprise. They changed some things on the programm, which we (not even S) didn’t understand. This was one of those changes. The lesson was really interesting, I made a lot of notes (in Spanish, French and Dutch). At the of the day, we foreigners are twice as tired as the Spanish people. We have to try to understand as much of the Spanish as we can, we speak to the teachers in French or English, and even when talking to other students, we switch from Dutch, to English, to French, to Spanish and even to German. At the end of the week, we speak all languages at the same time, which is quite funny from time to time. But still, very tiring. So, after we both played, we sneaked out of the classroom and went shopping. Swimming during siesta, choir rehearsal and siesta during HB’s explanation about the bass clarinet (we already heard it in Bruxelles).

Day 8:

Wednesday was the typical ‘ik kom uit mijn kot’-day. We had lesson with our own teacher, HS, which was funny, as we could predict what he was going to say to the others. And sometimes he would say something to us in Dutch and the Spanish students would look very strange, because they didn’t understand a word of it. I played Finzi (Bagatelles) and it went really well. For the first time, I just played what was written, without looking for a story behind the notes. The music speaks for itself.

In the afternoon, no choir rehearsal, because the semi-final of the concurso was at 6pm. In both modalidades, it was very clear who would become the winner.

We went for a drink after the concert and made R talk English for one whole hour. Afterwards we went for dinner (outside the school) with ‘our class’: S, C, me, our teacher H, his wife O, M (who was Erasmus last year), M (who studies at the French part of the conservatory, but was Erasmus with us for 6 months) and R (who will be in our class next year). It was fun, the food was good, and I think we all felt connect as ‘the group from Bruxelles’, which is a great feeling. But we were also becoming more and more Spanish every day. Saying jajajaja (like sisisisi) to confirm when we agreed with each other, staying outside until the door of the school closed at 1. Me like.

To conclude this first part of my trip, some pictures.

Meanwhile…

… I’ve proved once again that I can’t keep my promises. So, I’ll try no to promiss anything anymore, but I can’t promise that I’ll succeed.

… anyone who enters my room can tell I have holidays. What a mess.

… I have my first diploma: bachelor in music, option music writing.

… I passed my clarinet evaluation. So now I can start thinking about what I want to play for chamber music next year. I’m definitely looking for something for two clarinets and piano.

… I’ve read and listened to a lot of things, but I’ll discuss that later (although I can’t promiss I will happen).

… I made all the reservations for my trip to Spain. I’m leaving for France (by train) on July 15. I’m staying in Chartres that day. July 16 is Nantes, July 17 Bordeaux, July 18 San Sebastian, and on Sunday I take the train to Ávila, where I’ll follow the same clarinet course I took last year. July 27 I’m heading for Madrid, where I’ll be showed around by a girl who was at the course last year. The journey back begins July 30 and on July 30 I’m travelling back to Belgium from Bordeaux (which was a bad idea, because it’s called ‘periode de point’, which just means that it’s a very busy period and I have to pay more). Yesterday my 9 France train tickets arrived. All in a different envelope! Luckily it was ‘Port Payé France’.

… my mother and sister are celebrating in Croatia (my mother turns 50 today).

… I still can’t promiss to write more regular. So you might consider putting me in your RSS feed.