The perfect swim!

'Let's go swimming!', was P his ultimate idea this morning. P has got 10 days a summer free time to spend with us! Not that this means exclusive contact. Nope the iPhone is still fired up. Also the private practice stays open for visitors in pain. P is not a globe trotter and so he just likes it to take it slow once he does not need to be in the hospital. A is very happy to have his dad around for so much more time. But I sometimes want to just get him out of the house asap! With or without us!

The swimming idea was not such a bad idea but it seemed the only idea P could come up with the last 5 days. And I was having for the moment some certain serious issues with filled up pools. 'You don't need to come if you don't want to!', he said. But A wanted to show me how well he could now swim across the deep water! So I packed up all the swimming gear and dragged myself to the car!

I do believe that physical activity is very important but for the moment I do not want it to take place in a pool. 'It is not the swimming I do not like, P, it all the things that get in my way while swimming!', I explained to him. The hurdles I need to take in order to get some swimming done are close to facing the Mount Everest.

1. Looking right for swimming! I am not talking about turning into Pamela Anderson in Bay Watch but half of the time my hair is popping up all over my body parts! And sorry even being half of the time being covered up by water does not seem to work. The suspicious looks I get under the shower can already make me run back into me changing room! Brazilian Wax here I come!!!!

2. Getting changed! Such a bliss those changing rooms! Claustrophobic I get between those four walls. Not to mention the fact that half of my outfit (and I am not talking about my swimming suit) is already wet before having tipped one toe into the pool. Always I manage to pick out the one where they have left a puddle as big as the Atlantic Ocean!

3. Dealing with lockers! AHHHH!!! Change and keys are two more items that can drive me nuts! Most of the time I just throw everything in there like an Olympic Disc and hope that when I come back that I will find my shampoo fast underneath that big pile of personal belongings. Also the combo of wet fingers and metal seems not to work for me. Cursing, showing the finger, calling bad names, head banging I have done it in front of a locker! More suspicous looks guaranteed!

4. Taking a shower! There I meet up with many humans who are on the same mission! There the war starts. First for a spot underneath for one shower that works and will produce enough water to make you wet. The 'obligatory' shower I do not mind but I do mind the looks I encounter there. Seems then already many have decided that I am the enemy! 'She is not going to swim in my lane, not today!'-looks all over.

5. Picking out the right lane! Stallie sucks at this part!! I screw up this very essential part of my swimming outings! Here I get hit by a torpedo! Because I seem not to fit into a single lane. Not the slow one or the fast one. And even once I have managed to find an empty lane I still seem to be in the one where then the next wannabe Michael Phelps jumps into and threatens to crash into me! Not to mention the many times that two women pick out MY lane as the perfect place for exchanging the latest gossip!

6. Dealing with my hair! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!! Once I manage to cover successful the things mentioned her above I face the ultimate wet nightmare. MY HAIR!!! Not that I have tried tons of trade secrets that were passed on by own hair dressers. Still, I need to drag along half of my bathroom to bring back that healthy shine and to get that big bunch of hair untangled! One time I even got out with my brush still stuck to my head! No, I am not kidding! I had to hide my head underneath a huge orange towel and ran in a personal olympic record to my car! And nope, even the high quality (Swiss!!!) blow dryers seem not to be up to the task to get my hair back into shape!

7. Getting rid of the chlorine smell! Not that I do mind the substance itself but it manages to turn me insane! Because if I do want to smell fine in front of a black board or at a dinning table then I need an other shower to get rid of that pool perfume! And sorry, two times dealing with shampoo, conditioner and tons of hair products and brushing equipment that I just seem not to handle correctly are just a bit too much to handle for one day! When I then face the fact that I have forgotten my 'magic' brush at the pool I go ballistic! 'Uhm, I went for a swim, can you tell and smell!'-looks are sometimes the once I drag along for days!

So, nope P did not turn this into the perfect holiday day! The only highlight was A who managed to take in bravely his three portions of antibiotics. For the moment he is fighting back a dental infection.

P even had one of what I call a precious 'Doctor-Carlisle-Cullen-moment' while trying to force the bad smelling medication into the throat of his son! The doctor in holiday spirit seemed to loose it because A seemed to think that this white bad smelling and tasting substance belonged every where but not in his mouth! 'I just can't stand this! When he is this way I just feel so bad! Because this really smells bad and tastes awful!, he said while looking very compassionate! A topped this up by announcing just before going to bed:'Mum, I did like the swimming part today better then taking antibiotics!' Yeah, right!!

Jurgen, a bike and presidential toes!

Contador took home the yellow jersey and Andy Schleck managed quite well without his brother. Hope that he will be back next year with the same ambition and legs! Lance biked not his best Tour ever. The Texan went up a mountain but came down a hill, so to speak! Seemed it was one too much! In many interviews there were reasons given why Lance was not the racer he used to be.

But hey, after three days I did started to notice one name that made me feel a bit more excited: Jurgen van den Broeck! Not the most famous Belgian biker we have but still this hardworking athlete seemed to have the legs that it takes to go out there for a very long ride. A drive of a life time for many. But I doubt that most of them did notice the breathtaking landscapes they passed by! Because the 'Tour de France' you can only ride when you are focused and know where you are heading for.

Most of them are out there all by themselves when it comes down to biking the longest ride of all. Jurgen managed to keep up with the big names. I did think there were moments that I was a bit anxious. Especially when the mountains were looming. It is out there then the beasts are set free and go for the top and the ultimate climb. There they put their bodies to the test. Do they need to feel one with the two wheels they try to keep in balance. Do they try to keep focused on what really matters. And for sure do they need to read clearly the signs and not only those that are written on the road.

Creeping into the mind of a Tour biker is for sure very fascinating. While sitting in front of your screen it are the many cameras that are zooming into their very tensed faces and their bodies that seem to tell a very emotional story. Jurgen was for sure one of the most honest about what that bike tour did to his body and his emotional welfare.

'You know what I do think that Jurgen is out there racing very focused!', I did tell P. The Tour was only into the first week but it seemed like this 27 year old guy knew suddenly some facts about his sport he did not knew before. Facts that can make the difference! Like he was racing liberated and free of his personal ghosts of the past!


Jurgen was very outspoken once he made it up hill! In case you wonder what it feels like having to answer 'stupid' questions while catching your breath this bad boy made sure that you got a very outspoken answer. Finding the shortest way to the 'pee-control'. No problem! Even when President Sarkozy his toes were in the way! He ignored those in order to get there asap!

More then a month ago many biking experts hoped that this focused guy would get into Top 10 and that he would stay heading that way. Not loosing it where it matters the most. Don't crash and then burn! Because burned he got many times before. Like when he was out there in the Giro of 2007! For Jurgen out there his personal 'tipping point' took place! While he had to give up and let tons of others pass him by. Many who were on paper not even as good as him but were still overtaking him up hill!

"This is it! This the very last time that I will feel so redicilious! From now on I am not going to 95% for it but 200%! I had promised myself that I would not be 'average'. And that before turning 27 I would know what I was worth as a pro. Well, now I am 27. And I guess, that I am about to find out!', he stated in the interview given after the Tour de France.

When I read this kind of stuff then I do think that it seems that many of us need moments like this. The locomotive of Morkhove states very openly in that same interview that if you have a dream you have to go for it! Life is not something that 100% happens to you, you still have to respond to the signals or call it even signs! You can ignore them or decide to fight the battle and use all you have got to the fullest potential.

Becoming a pro Tour de France racer is bringing sacrifices also personal ones. Many had given him parental and professional advice. He had lost some precious time out there, like he was hesistating about this whole biking adventure. He needed to try harder, rent an apartment close to the mountains to feel, experience, sense, become one with that one extra push he needed to go after his personal dream! Facing the height and then experience it from very close by!

Jurgen embraced the last three years many things he had to put into the right perspective! He even got of his bike to have a good look at what was passing by! Jurgen is not Lance, Andy or Alberto! No, he is just a 27 year old man with a bike finding out where he belongs, what his right place is there up in the yellow league!

Number 5 is not bad at all! It is a very long time ago that we had a Belgian bringing home such a nice number from France! Still Jurgen wants more, feels that there is something more out there he can reach for. Next year he wants to be back finding out where he truely belongs! For sure on a bike! So make sure your feet are not in the way when he is passing by! Sarkozy did find out, the hard way!

P.S.: Once more Boston did come up with a very nice selection of pics:2010 Tour de France - part II - The Big Picture - Boston.com

Travelling to the heart of it all!

It took me while to become back friends with my blog. The last entry I wrote was more in a kind of healthy rage and also under surveillance. But after five days of London in the company of my mother, some very meaningful mails with very supporting words and very deep thaughts of many 'real good' friends (you all rock!!) I was able to put things in the right perspective. Or at least my own personal 'feel-good-perspective'! More I do not need to function from day to day basis. Not that I am lowering my standards about what I am going to post here or believe in!

No way, because like mentioned already once today:'What doesn't kill you, makes you stronger!'. The last two weeks I have taken a step back, I started to breath again, focussed my camera on some wonderful architecture, got lost in the underground while constantly 'minding the gap', tried to find the most sensible way on a map and this in all order to feel back at ease with my will to write but also feeling alive!

I was ten minutes on the Eurostar that I told my mum the whole story. Being the very down the earth person she is, was very straight forward about it. Her point of view was very down to earth! It took us back to a very long time ago when my dad had this very guts feeling about something related to the outcome of this blog incident! By the time we made it to Saint Pancras I did knew that I had to let go. In my case not an easy stroll through the park!

While standing on Trafalgar Square surrounded by thousands of tourists visiting London my mind got reshaped. Or was it when I was sitting in Sint-Martin-in-the-Field listening to Mozart by candle light? Perhaps it was while I walked in&out of many bookshops (I behaved this time and 'only' bought 5 books on this trip). It might have been the fire alarm that went off in our hotel at 3 am that made me hit the refocus button. There is also the moment standing on the square of Temple Church where you can sense the presence of something very 'strong' and turning around facing a very blue sky that I started to see clearly once more.

Taking my mum to London was more then just hanging around in a very lively city where I do never grow tired of. Six times already this vibrant metropolis had gotten under my skin. It had already given me plenty of food for thought and many joys (and tons of books!!!). I was there before with many but never with next of kin. So having my mum next to me was very special.

She made me smile many times with just being 200% herself. It was great to see her:
- enjoying the many little shops and leaving behing money to support the local economy
- going completely insane while eating cake, muffins and Italian pastries
- hearing her talking 'funny' English
- trying to blend in with the locals and making numerous comments of the outrageousy dress code Londoners and world citizens were wearing. She was a true lady walking around in her nice outfits, hats and fitting scarfs!
- complimenting the chefs of Belgo Centraal for their delicious tasting 'stoofvlees' (a dish she can cook so well!)
- putting a Harrods shopping assistent to an ultimate test while looking for the perfect lipstick
- selecting tons of souvenirs for her grandchildren, sisters and friends,
-reading tons of signs and trying to comprehend fully what they stood for like 'Strand WC'. 'That is what I need badly, for the moment!' comment told me that an extra course of English could not do any harm!
- picking out jewelry for her daughter (ME!) at The Britisch Museum and getting tons of compliments on her taste of jewelry and style by one of major sales persons. On top of that walking out there with a gift!
- dressing me for rain and winter in Scottisch and Irish action gear!
- being impressed by the impeccable grass quality of Hampton Court and keep on mentioning it for days!
- buying some very cheerful music for her CD-player at the Globe. I can't wait to see her dancing merrily around through the house
- liking the ring of certain names but still forgetting the importance of them. After five days my mum only knew one underground stop and that was 'Angel' and we never got of there!
- eating soup and fruit salade out side sitting on curbs.
- putting up with my bad moods in the mornings
- pointing out tons of stuff that I already had forgotten about London and would have just walked by.
- being able to fit into the 'find' of the week. Someone is now missing a brandnew and very nice grey MaxMarra shirt but my mum looks very cool in it!
- letting her take pictures of me but only in the company of booze! ;-)
- walking 3 times into one bakery on the same day to buy a certain cake to take home.


It was at the Britisch Museum that I did experience perhaps my most intense moment with her. For me museums are more then just filled up places with things of the past. I feel at home when surrounded by objects with a story and that seem to stand the test of time. So when my mum wanted to buy me something in the very exclusive museum shop I got very tensed. Because that is not 'just' a buy.

While my mum made me try out tons of earrings and necklaces in a place where some price tags hit the roof I became suddenly very calm. She made me look straight into mirror and trying to see what she still sees in me. I did grew older! The signs are there, not hard to miss but I don't think that was what she was going for!

While my mum was forcing a certain pair of earrings on me, the salesperson jumped into the conversation. He got out everything out to make me feel important. Being ten minutes left before the museum was going to close down I did think this was a bit 'strange'. 'Don't you think they look nice on her?', she asked a very professional looking guy who seemed to be on top things jewelery wise! 'Uhm, is she a dissapointment to you? Did she not live up to your expectations?', he wondered while he was looking straight into my eyes checking the color matchings.

It was perhaps not his intention to be serious but I did feel anxious to hear her answer. Around me the shop was emptying and I did feel that we were about to get on a different level. She looked me straight in the eyes but did not answer that question. Only her eyes told me all I needed to know!

The shop assistent was now teamed up with my mum bit still I was hesitating. These were for sure not a pair I would have picked out myself. On a black piece of cloth there were lying very colorful earrings and they were quite long. They would make me stand out of a crowth, make my eyes look brighter and they came along with tons of other side effects.

I gave in but it was not because me mum likes them so much! Nope, it was as if that one very meaningful gift that was lying out was trying to tell me some very important facts that my mum wants me to know for sure. 'These are earrings to wear for battle, for loving, for having fun, for grieving but formost for being the person you want to be and can be!', she seemed beaming over by just looking at me!

More and more I become aware of the world around me that seems to be less obvious when it comes to emotions and feelings. In the last few weeks I have learned a plenty bleak facts about how people try to deal with their emotions. Have been given the priveledge to hear some very meaningful stories and opinions how they look at first love, being heartbroken, growing older, giving in or up, moving on, creating success, friendship, grief, success but formost it was always the emotion love that stuck out!

There is no secret potion out there to feel 1000% high up in the sky! People get hurt or will hurt you. It leaves scars and it can make you doubt all where you so strongly believe in. The dark side is always looming around the corner even on a very bright day in July at The British. After all we are 'only' human! But the earrings that are now resting in a very stylish looking black box are up for the battle. I will wear them proudly. You can be sure that when A said:'Mum, what a nice pair of earrings are you wearing!, my heart was smiling along!' In the end my mum is still right about many facts of life and she wants me to be dressed up rightly for battle and the earrings are dynamite!!!


P.S.: I love this statue at Saint Pancras train station where many trains leave! Very fitting image when dealing with getting your focus back on what truely matters in life!

the white van

My blog backfired and I am quite devasted by it. Because it was nothing I was prepared for. Seems that even when you think that you have covered every angle of a story that you seem still have forgotten a tiny little detail.

It is not that when I embarked on this blog adventure I was unaware of the downsides of throwing some rather personal stuff on the world wide web. I had made some promises about the privacy of many. I would never cross a certain line. In case I would get other people involved in story lines then I would never call them by their full names. Easy job! Or at least that was what I thaught. Because today I got hit right between the eyes and right into the heart.

While I was absorbing the content of the rather down the earth writen reply my body started to ache. Because then you suddenly know that you can't do anything anymore to take it back. My first reaction was to delete my whole blog. Was temped a first time last month but that is a whole different story. But then my brain started to work a bit more efficiently!

Writing a story you can do it in many ways. I could have sticked to the safe way of blogging. Just the facts, the numbers, the figures and some images. Nothing more, nothing less. But hey, that is not me and it would never have worked for me. I am a very emotional person and I do carry my heart on my sleeve. I do have very strong preferences for human beings who show empathy and do something unconditionally. The moment that I get interaction my mind is triggered. It can be in the funniest places or at most outraged moment ever.

When I started out it even occured to me that there was nobody going to read this stuff. But I did not care. It was going to be 'Up, close and Personal' and what you were going to read was what you would get when you would ever get the opportunity to meet me in the flesh. Most of this stuff I would tell you at an open fire place, if given the opportunity!

The people who read my blog sometimes tell me that they do sometimes read the newspaper wondering if I am picking up the same vibes. 'Are you smelling a story?'-attitude pure sang. Well, in some cases it works wonderfully. I do come across some current affairs that scream to get the personal treatment but there are also the hidden gems, the more personal items.

In case you wonder what I look like while I am typing away: very focused, sometimes magazines or newspapers close by, a drink and some music plugged between my ears. I can then get lost in time and place. It takes me to the core of my mind and feelings. P does make comments about this sometimes rather less interactive moment we end up in the living room together. He then faces a partner who is taking a break but at the same time is refocussing on what truely matters in my life.

People that now feel busted or offended by what I write should perhaps refocus and take some distance. I try to do that constantly when I create my personal reflections. I have promised myself that I would never hurt people or talk bad about certain individuals who just can't help themselves. It is not my style.

Believe me then this blog would contain tons of foul language. Stallie can be very upset, screaming her heart out and feeling so let down by people. It is sometimes very appealing to use this open white space to get it then into the open. My better half of my still wins me over and the little red devil sitting on my left shoulder is still ignored.

Up till today P never read a single entry and I never made him because I did not see the necessity of it. P knows me, he travels along through life and is the witness of many down fall moments of his Stallie. This guy knows how I stand to certain people, values, principles and objects in my life. In his presence no words are needed.

While I was standing in the kitchen and he was sitting there behind his computer reading a certain entry (and the reaction to it and it that exact order) my heart was going wild. I was anxious to find what he would get out of the words, what the essence of them is, what I was trying to point out. When he was finished he looked over and wrapped up the whole essence in one nice sentence. Surprisingly it was the exact message I was aiming for. P is a scientist, works with numbers and focusses on the details. He can strip down many things to the bare essentials.

P first told me that this is the net and that it can backfire constantly. He even pointed out that I had to start thinking of taking a break of blogging. At that moment I was ready to do so! But strangely enough he was the one who then pointed out that this was not fair on me. He then made me some very nice compliments. People who know P know that he does not have them in abundance.

The rest of the day I was not myself. I even dived into pool to get back into balance and you can be sure that while I was swimming my mind was racing. While I was standing under the shower I felt that this blogadventure had caused some grief to others, including myself! P was then one who pointed out my true feelings about this whole painful incident:'You are feeling dissapointed, don't you?' I nodded and wanted to walk on:"You are dissapointed in them! You considered them smarter then this. That they would have filtered out of your story the exact feelings you were after!' It then hit my right between the eyes that was the essence of what had happened. Nothing more, nothing less.

P.S: P was the one who made me write this entry and he came up with the title!

The cup of all cups.

I was 'Switzerland' for most of the World Cup Football. Because in most cases it tears me up inside when I start to cheer for a certain team. As long if there were any private links with teams I had even more issues going on. On top of that I did not think there were many outstanding matches this tournement and I even am tempted that I have not seen 'newborns' that I love to see out there in the months to come.

Being a girl I have been forced many times to watch football games. I even broke a toe once while fighting over the remote control! Not kidding. Was so fed up with the men at home who only could rave about certain players and game statistics. After almost four weeks of seeing green, white and 22 moving colored dots on screen I was fed up. I ended up at the emergency room with a broken toe! And for three weeks of summerholiday I was forced to walk on crutches!

When I was in the States I did find out that football is rather a 'smooth' sport. My best friend H played on the 'soccer team' and she was awesome with a ball. And to be honest the most European and good looking (and perhaps also rather intelligent) guys of the school played baseball or 'soccer'. Those 'sweet' guys gained all my respect. There are some realy nice pics in my Yearbook of the 'soccerteam', tying their shoes and getting focused just before a game.

I took classes with some of these guys! They were less giantlike then some of the Hoover Viking Football players. This also meant that the school never went completely insane when they won a game. Seemed as they were playing out there under the radar. The silent knights aiming for that one meaningful hit.

Not that they lacked the attitude I now link with some of big players of my generation. 'You know he 'only' plays soccer!', was one of these sentences that I just couldn't put my finger on. Where I came from 'Football' is the ultimate wet dream of many boys. Playing in the major league stands for so much more. Just a few out of the big wish box: getting treated as a real man, buying that one fast car that makes people turn around, and dating the gorgeous Miss of your nation.

Secretly I had something going for that high school team. It felt rather familiar, especially the vocabulary they used while talking about the game. American Football was for me the ultimate nightmare if it came to understanding tactics or reading a field. The only two American Football words that made it into my daily vocab where 'touch down' and 'quarterback'!

For me the past Cup final was for sure not the best game I ever saw. My two men were crossing fingers for Spain and I just sat there thinking that being impartial in this case was more fitting. After 3 minutes I just knew that there were was a war going on. Many kicks went the 'wrong' way. I have seen people getting hurt and some lost it out there completely. 'Clockwork Orange'came to mind a few times.

The looks in the eyes of many players told me stuff that was not linked to victory. Okay, you might get to play once only this so devine making match! Still it is not an excuse to go for that one painfull kick. As a player those 90 minutes seem to turn your world tupsy turvy. It is the one ultimate game that can make or break you. It can be the beginning or the end of something! Stars are born on that unique football field. When one of them finds that one opening and goes for the ultimate kill the outside world comes to a complete stand still. But once you let go your foot, there the dreams or nightmare start and you don't have any control over that one split second. All you can do then is hoping that it will go where you want it to cross the line.

I have seen men do very strange stuff when that moment came. Seems like they only then show their 'real' emotions when there is white object involved. And not only on the field but also next to it and way beyond it. Tears, kisses, huges, smiles, handshakes, screams, yells, obscene gestures, cursing,...... Men suddenly expose themselves so openly when dealing with this sport. They then seem to change into individuals with a EQ that hits through the roof.

Hey, the Spanish goalie Casillas kissing his girlfriend while she was working was so cute but it told me that they had kicked the hell out of him. And getting close to your queen in your locker room must be a bit surrealistic. Football seems to make many do exceptional stuff.


Madrid and Amsterdam are embracing back there big boys (some even became men!) and celebrating the homecoming they deserved. One national team with the ultimate cup that can take away all the pain. The other team wearing silver medals. These last ones will need badly a peptalk to make sure that they snap out of their ultimate nightmare.

Rightfully Spain won out there. 'La Furia Roja' will for sure be the next copple of years considered untouchable by the rest of the world. Except Switzerland seems to have found that one small loophole. Being 'Switzerland' is so cool when it comes to watching a football game!

P.S.: Before I forget I had very high' expectations when it came to that one 'El Nino' (the kid) Fernando Torres. He did not live up to those. Seemed he was a bit lost out there! Fernando, you do realise, hopefully, that you are now playing with the big boys! The cup looks good on you! But please take care of your fragile body. It will have to stand many future field wars!

P.S.: For the best images that were caught by a camera you can turn here! All the emotions of 4 weeks wrapped up in more then 40 pics for you to enjoy!

2010 World Cup comes to a close - The Big Picture - Boston.com

Becoming Jane

In the two months that I am home I do have some certain appetites. One is for reading. After taking a break of the best bookclub ever I decided to join again for the summer read. The four books I ordered a few weeks ago and I started in the first one. But this summer they have got competition. Like mentioned before I got Twilighted a few weeks ago. So now half my house is filled up with books and DVDs with apples, red ribbons and chess pieces on the cover.

When I told N that I was reading the books she was so kind to tell me that I should grow up! The best defence I had was:'They are real good books and so much better then the movie!' Sounded so much as a cliché! For the moment I finished book 1 and 3. I am half way through 2 (the reason why I finished 3 before 2 is very complicated but call it logistics!). 'Breaking Dawn' I am going to keep till the end of the summer. Because my VIB-stack is waiting for me.

The whole Twilight thing is getting a bit out of hand. P is already calling it worse then Facebook! 'For god's sake, vampires, how can that be of some quality!?' While standing in my nighties in our bedroom with a copy of Eclipse I felt busted. I do not have many justifications at hand to turn this into the read of the century. Because, honestly that's not it.

Okay, I have this thing going on with Doctor Carlisle Cullen who is way out of range when it comes to blood sucking vampires. There is also the fact that I do think that I do have the right to get, once in a while, into one of those hypes or nostalgic things. This week I was even tempted to buy one of those Monchichi monkeys. Don't start me now that men don't have those spells. In most of their cases it are wet dreams about some certain cars. Even P has got this thing going for a certain little car where I just can't put my finger on.

I try to understand him why this is the one and only car that is way up there. Believe me, we have arguments about him buying that object of his affection on 4 wheels. For me that one little sport's car stands for the little boy that is still alive inside of him. One day it will be parked in front of our house. That day I just will have to let my fences down and hope to see many smiles and sparkling eyes when he gets behind the wheel.

So why can't he back of when it comes to books? Because if he would know me better he would understand why I do try to get to the bottom of Stephenie Meyer her creations. But then it would take me months to explain that there is for sure a dash of my all time favorite author in there: Jane Austen. Still, even that adoration P does not get.

Becoming a Janeites did hurt. While doing my research for my final college dissertation I bought tons of books covering the life and work of this Hampshire born lady. I remember standing in front of her grave, on which there was lying one freshly cut red rose, that my mind was completely invaded by her.

Twilight author Meyer knows her classics and besides Shakespeare and some other notorious authors she has found something between the lines in Jane her fruits of labor. True love, commitment, patience, prejudice, pride, believing in the good nature of human beings and this against all odds,.... She did not name the most overprotective vampire of all Edward because she just liked the sound of that name.

Privately Jane Austen her love live was one big mess. Like many women she just did not obtain the right to choose her own love intrest. Her beloved parents tried to point out that money was above love the one thing that matters in the cruel world. And that you can't make your own living by the pen! Unfortunately she fell in love with that one object. And she would only settle for a wedding contract if a husband would let her make a living made out of ink.

The men she met on her way to the final product also landed up in there. Because it is not hard to imagine that Jane did have a Mr Darcy of her own. Eloping, chances are she had tried it out herself, she had danced on a few formal balls herself and had seen the destruction love can bring on. Her true emotions she kept not always to herself. In the published letters to her sister Cassandra (whose lover died of yellow fever once he made it to the tropics) she admits very openly that she wants to feel alive and love unconditionally!

It are these letters that I do think are the key to the writtings of Jane. In her correspondence she confronts the closest of kin what she thinks of the world in which she tries to find her true soulmate. Time was not that kind on her. But she kept on writing and in that time, where most fortunate women had to be gifted dancers or piano players to entertain the men, that was quite a challenge.

Jane was a good dancer and she played the piano good enough to find the 'right'man. Only once she seemed to have met her 'Edward' or 'Mr Darcy'. The guy who couldn't read her from the first time they met, who offended her openly, who lied many times to her to keep her safe and obviously told her that she was a good woman to the core: Thomas Lefroy! But he also settled for the conventional rule and put a ring on a 'good behaving soul'!

For me it was as college student very hard to understand the psycho of Jane. I did feel a bit pitty for and she seemed to be a prisoner of her time. According to many Jane was just one of those women who tried to be less conventional then most women who surrounded her. If it comes to the 21st century we have nowdays also many modern Jane Austens: women who try to stand up for their true beliefs and believing in true love against all odds! I even have some friends who I kindly will put into that category.

Jane was a very exceptional person and a very stong individual with one drive and that was to write about what she thaught about the life she was trying to cope with but secretly still hope against all odds. Still I think she deserved a better epitaph on her grave. Because "extraordinary endowments of her mind", were the only words her brother James could come up with when dealing with her intelect. Seems he was a bit ashamed of his own next of kin.

In 'Becoming Jane' (a movie about the life of Jane Austen) the Regency girl says very fitting words about novels:'A novel must show how the world truely is. Somehow reveal the true source of our actions!' Bella comparing with for example Elizabeth Bennett is hard to do but they have more in common then many think. Vampy Edward can be matched up with the cool Mr Darcy but then also with an other dramatic loverboy called Heathcliff (Brönte)!

Still, if I have to choose between a ride on horse or touring the sporty Volvo of Edward or the so cool Merc of Carlisle then I can make up my mind in no time. 'My kingdom for a horse', is perhaps too Shakesperian (an other author the Twilight author turned to for inspiration) for these Cullen Boys but at least they have got manners when it comes to courtship! So if P gets his act together then at least he opens the door of the passenger seat once he dares to come home with that dream car of his!

P.S.: Yes, I admit it openly once it was half time in the game Germany-Spain I changed channels to watch this nice movie covering Jane Austen her life! Not true to the letter but very nice insights into one of the most daring female authors of her life. I love the answer Jane gives when asked by one her courters if her novels have happy endings:'My characters will have all that they desire!' Guess that Bella would fit right into a novel of hers!

War on wheels

Yes, I do know that I am girl and that not that many of the weak sex are walking encyclopedia when it comes to biking or the Tour de France. But please allow me to admit that for me that French institution stands for many things: summer, long, yellow, green, polka dots, campers, fans, winners and losers, hundreds of seconds, mountains, flat tyres, escapes, tactics, injuries, L'Equipe, brown-white colored bodies, the map of France with known places and less known ones, racing against time, the teamspirit when it matters, VIPs on Tour (even Tom Cruise will be over this year!) and every day coming a bit closer to Paris d'Amour.

Lance is ready for this year's Tour!! It is written all over his face. He knows what he is after. This is 'pure sang' boy who wants to get his message across when it comes to biking and this year he will be racing just against a few. The living sport's monument has been there so many times. Still after last year things did change a bit. Lance and Alberto won't be that close anymore. Tempted I am to call them enemies on wheels.

The war is on! I don't look forward to all the useless interviews that will be broadcasted. Many reporters will try to trigger their brains. I don't think they will show the back of their tongues! The only place that the real battle will take place on will the bike. Hopefully I will be able to feel the true emotions that matter. I hope to be able to see through the harsh words or the sentences that they will or won't say. All I want to see is the faithfull sportman's ship they will show to the world.

Today, we ended up after a nice breakfast with our good friends N,T and T who had invited us over to cheer on the cyclists. I have to be honest that I dressed A for the occassion in his Swiss Safari t-shirt he got as a present of his auntie Lilly. We cheered the yellow jersey on that was covering up the body of Fabian! Because family in the Swiss makes it a bit more personal when a Swiss is passing through. My personal highlight was the force that my little camera showed because the moment I show yellow heading my way I made it go bezerk. The result is quite a nice pic that I will put on Facebook very soon.

While we were heading back for home the troops on wheels were heading for Spa. On the wet roads many fell. 70 men felt the hard road under them and many saw a hospital or doctor. Even the bud of Alberto Contador looks a bit less glamorous. After the fall Fabian made them all slow down. So no real race! In a interview that was taken in the garden of the hotel in Lanaken (so damn close to my mother's!) he had to explain why he did it and what will happening next in the race of the year. 'Every day is a war!',was his response. He feels sad that he won't make it on the cobble stones in yellow but 'c'est la vie'!!

A was even a bit out of tune by this news. 'Mum, I think it is such a shame that Cancellera lost the yellow jersey today!' There was a 6 year old boy sitting next to me with rather sadness in his face. I tried to comfort him by trying to explain to him that the Swiss superbiker might get that shirt back. But like in most cases I could not garuantee that. Because in the Tour de France there are not that many waterproof facts. Today 70 people found that out the hard way! Hopefully they found many bottles of Spa-water in their minibars to clean out the dirt!