Good people

Bud's reading extracts from the newspaper to me as I blog; extracts from an analysis of why Kerry lost. It's in Dutch and I'm having difficulty switching between the two languages. Actually, I just want to be left alone to blog! We need a bigger flat...

Let's talk about something else...
Beginning to feel like the US elections and Islamic fundamentalism are the only two themes in my life at present. Yesterday we went to an art exhibition. Bud's ex-wife - he was married to her for seven years in his twenties - was displaying her paintings along with a friend and other artists. The venue was a converted mill. It was freezing cold in there and you had the feeling that the floorboards might give way at any minute. But it was an amazing treasure chest of paintings, pottery that looked like twisted foam, old photographs and even a swing from which you could view the works in one attic. (Now that's nice, all you artists, put a swing in your gallery and turn on some good music...)

Cory, Bud's ex, was petite, older-looking than I'd expected and, at first sight, a little hard. But when she talked to us later, her words and eyes spoke clearly of a thoroughly good soul. She and Bud have remained good friends. You can feel her fondness for him and her genuine wish that he should be happy. It felt good to be around her, around the spirit of the couple they once were. I felt totally included.

We sat around, despite the cold, sipping red wine with her and her fellow artist friend. Others came in to join us - including the mother of her partner, a former actress, now in her eighties and still as bright as a button. THE murder was mentioned - everyone's talking about it here (see posts of the last few days). The murdered man had definitely gone too far in his insulting comments about Muslims, the lady said. No justification at all for his gruesome death. But freedom of speech shouldn't be misused either. Woops, we're back on that topic...

Back at the ranch
Cory invited us back to dinner. It was a lovely Dutch house. The loveliest I've seen so far with high ceilings, an upstairs and a downstairs and even a garden. Amazing, that feeling of space. Grandma stayed for dinner too. Cory's younger son, Caes, adores his Gran. It was wonderful to see the way he hung around her, rubbed her back with the stump of his arm (he was born with most of one arm and a hand missing), ran his fingers through her white hair and then sat down to sketch a picture of her signet ring. And so we stayed for dinner, made by Cory's partner - he's an actor and had to leave early to go to some actors' meeting.

And so we spent the evening chatting about old times and new, about the friends we visited some time ago in Groningen, enjoying the company of Cory, Gran and Caes - Caes whose impish good looks and natural charm will surely help him sail through life - and Cory's older son Dirk, a sociable teenager who appeared in time for dinner, played computer games with his 12-year-old brother and then left to see his mates.

All in all, a great day out.