I had some time out. Call it a vacation or whatever. Love seemed to sneak into our Shaggade (gade means street) apartment for a week. That means company, drinks, fun cooking, going out, or very much staying in :)
Wine is good over here, although I am not very comfortable with paying 15 euroes for a bottle when I have absolutely no idea what is inside. We ended up with a bottle of Jumping Jack. Yes, it IS as australian as it sounds. At a certain point closer to the cashier with that very bottle in my sack, I was kind of wondering, why is freakin Jack jumping after all? Sure, I hope its not the wine..
Key take-away: every city is uncomparably more beautiful with an exceptionally attractive, sweet, and entertaining companion. (Hand in hand helps a little even more). God, I am wise today.
Now, here is my second, less cheerful excuse. My Grandpa passed away last thursday. Not very unexpected but... well it should never get expected. So now I am home. Yesterday I was standing next a big wooden box, sometimes without any feeling at all, almost feeling guilty for not having pay. Than it dawns on you slowly, you Grandpa lies in there silently, motionless. The man that first thought me to drive a car though my dad asked him not to.. the man that had that most waggy smile when he gave me a glass of wine when none was looking.. the good old fella that was happy to see me.. that was happy to hear me... I could hear his mood change just knowing I fine.. I can still hear his stories about war, love, fun... he gave me so much. And now he is in that little, closed box. A box that slowly went down under... covered now with 2 metres of dust. The last moment I saw the box, I said: "Goodbye Granpda".. nobody could here but him and me, I am sure. I was strong up to then, but I broke at that point.
And Christianity, and religion? And the way we are treated when we passed away?! Outrageous.. I will tell you tomorrow...
