Happy Hanukkah and/or Christmas to those who celebrate! Even though our house is (reluctantly) multi-religious, we forgot just about every tradition we were ever taught for this time of the year. On Hanukkah Eve, Anja said “where are the tea lights?”, but we had no luck finding them to produce a makeshift chanukiah. Probably for the best. I don’t mind that we didn’t put up a Christmas tree, but I did find myself missing our outrageous ornaments. (Continue)

I forgot how the COVID booster can make you feel as though, temporarily, the world may well be ending. I got it earlier this week, and it left me with a sore arm and that dreadful, ridiculous sensation that accompanies a flu that lasts a week too long. I mimic my late stepfather, who used to wimper like a puppy whenever he got a cold. I still do well to limit my hours of screen time. (Continue)

The weather has officially reached a temperature that requires me to buy a new coat. I dread it. Unlike most other types of clothing, coats and jackets never seem to suit me, regardless of the style. To soften the blow of having to order several coats on the Internet hoping one will work for me, I granted myself three sets of retro socks. I finished reading The Midnight Library, which I had borrowed from Annelie. (Continue)

Each year I’m less embarrassed to say it: I don’t like that stretch of time during the Dutch Springtime when no work week is normal. Aside from the usual Christian holidays there’s King’s Day and Liberation Day, and I’ve found it really messes with my head. I don’t mind them much looking ahead (like I did last week, but having to live through it could well be too much for me. (Continue)

Brushing my teeth on Friday morning, I think about the weekend ahead, secretly complaining that my social engagements will keep me from getting the rest I need. Then I remember Easter Monday. The true marker of my mid-thirties is the excitement I feel at the prospect of a bed, and nothing but it. I hold a baby this week, one of my favorite ones. His face has two states that exist simultaneously: the one of utter shock and surprise only newborns can have, and the one that reminds you that babies know everything about the world and forget it as soon as they start to speak. (Continue)

It has been snowing in Amsterdam. As the years go by, I’m having trouble understanding whether I’m experiencing the effects of global warming, or whether I’ve never paid attention to what was always in front of me until now. It is likely a combination of the two. Either way, it is sad to see Amsterdammers retreat into their homes after two weeks of shorts and drinks in the sun. At work Leeruniek’s Product team is hiring, and I’ve been the one taking care of the recruitment process for two engineering and one design role. (Continue)

The tourists are back in town. Lots of Germans with face masks. I suppose we’re all beginning to venture out into the world again, just a bit closer to home. Anja and I are considering taking the ferry to Norway. Apparently you can camp virtually anywhere in that country, as long as you “leave it cleaner than you found it” and make sure you’re gone after two days. At this point, we’re vastly underestimating how attached we are to luxury. (Continue)