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.

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. He laughs when I bop his nose, although I quickly learn that the force with which I bop Anja’s adult nose shan’t be applied here.

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. So far, I’ve found a new front-end engineer as well as a designer within two months, so I suppose you could say I’ve been busy. If this process has been teaching me anything new, it’s that 1) I very much enjoy meeting people and learning about their (work) life stories, 2) there is such value in building strong relationships with recruiters who make you smile, and 3) it takes two weeks of introdutory chats before I begin to regret having to listen to my own voice give the same pitch over and over again.

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. I can still hear myself whining “Bonsoihoir”. This was the catch-all name we used anyone who would come to the door of our Parisian hotel room with a bucket of ice, “no, not for champagne, just for the drinks”. I also really don’t like ticks, and I simply can’t imagine that Norway somehow doesn’t have the national health crisis taunting its neighbor.

I am on a 33-day streak picking my teeth before bed. I’ve designed a temptation bundle, pairing the activity with a few minutes of garbage television. During these days, I’ve made it through two seasons of Love After Lockup and six seasons of Sister Wives. It shouldn’t surprise you that my watching habit has extended well beyond the time it takes me to pick my teeth. Earlier this week I decided to tone it down and return the temptation bundle to its original intention. Not because I want to watch less garbage television, but because I don’t want Sister Wives to end.

I’m terrible at keeping it a secret: my favorite time in the week is when A works from home. We spent the past month building a home office in a one-bedroom apartment, and I’m happy about the result. Monday is Uni day for her. I find it endearing that her Statistics course is throwing her for a loop a little bit.

“Work is so great!” I think to myself on Tuesday. My onboarding period is somewhat odd because of two separate parental leaves in my team. Now that my fellow designer is back again, I have to conclude that she is an utter blast. A attempts to use her iPad as a sidecar but doesn’t get the audio right. This makes it so that I can hear all of her pupils wrestle through 1984. When she discusses a particular rainy scene, a girl says “like, I don’t know, it’s, like, just typically English”, and we both smile.

• If you ever happen to find yourself in the sleepy fishing town of IJmuiden: the fish, service, atmosphere, and cheesecake in the fish restaurant  De Meerplaats are all very pleasant.
• For my birthday,  Erica Bouma gave me Jesus by rebel theologian Hans Küng. It’s a great and easy read — a recommendation for anybody interested in the history of Christianity.
• The Son and the Stranger is a beautiful Dutch-language documentary about Daan, a man who, after studying Hebrew in university, converted to the ultra orthodox Jewish faith. Filmmaker Thomas Vroege attempts to understand his motives.
• Ghost Shark, in which the translucent, bright blue ghost of a murdered shark jumps up from the smallest water surfaces to eat innocent holiday goers, is the worst worst Syfy-film of 2013. With a comeback from 7th Heaven‘s youngest daughter. Totally worth the choke by laughter, though.
• I think Noah Kalina’s photo series  Internet/Sex (2007-2009) is something very special.
• My poet friend Jelmer van Lenteren runs a very nice  Tumblr, where he shares his beautiful work and many great music tips.