Monthly Archives: April 2015

I am slowly getting into my old routine although it is far from perfect. Whilst not entirely being back to my usual 5.30 am rise, I’m pushing for the 6 am. I meditate as usual, in front of the fireplace, and I find I need it more than ever. By this time I know it almost by heart, Aurelius’ advice touching my lips as a mantra. I find it even useful during the day when words like fair, ethics, doing what is right, seems so far off the grid that I have a hard time even seeing their traces.

“Begin each day by telling yourself: Today I shall be meeting with interference, ingratitude, insolence, disloyalty, ill-will, and selfishness – all of them due to the offenders’ ignorance of what is good or evil. But for my part I have long perceived the nature of good and its nobility, the nature of evil and its meanness, and also the nature of the culprit himself, who is my brother (not in the physical sense, but as a fellow creature similarly endowed with reason and a share of the divine); therefore none of those things can injure me, for nobody can implicate me in what is degrading. Neither can I be angry with my brother or fall foul of him; for he and I were born to work together, like a man’s two hands, feet or eyelids, or the upper and lower rows of his teeth. To obstruct each other is against Nature’s law – and what is irritation or aversion but a form of obstruction.”

The old adage, “what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger” rings equally loud and true. I pull up these maxims to get me through the day, until it seems an impossible task….and then there is always…“Tomorrow is another day”


…in a new reincarnation. I gave it to Victoria for her birthday. She told me yesterday, Mum I hate the bottle but I love the perfume. Well I am of the old school kind and I love the original, wearing it frequently. But I do love the commercial, watching it like a scenario being created in my own mind, thoughts travelling at a wirld wind speed. Could it be me?


It was rather disheartening as we saw little of King’s Day. As we have a shopping centre just five minutes walk from here, I was under the false impression it would be one huge flea market. But alas…. Sebastian was sorely disappointed too, until we found an ice cream parlour that was opened. Cecile on the other hand didn’t mind as for once she found a cat that wasn’t afraid of her, she refused to walk any further, resigned to ogling at this most deviant of creatures. Instead we found a Japaneese catering restaurant called Katsumi. We order a large dish of vegetarian sushi and opted for an early dinner and an even more earlier night. I’m thus already in bed preparing for tomorrow’s day in the office. Good night folks x


After the ice cream all was good


In fact there was even room for a second ice cream – ah well, it’s only King’s Day once a year


Highly recommended sushi from Katsumi in Haarlem


Sebastian got his own childproof chopsticks


As it’s a day off here and no one is behind a computer bombarding you with messages, I just finished one work batch… two more to go before the end of the evening. But after lunch and framing Sebastian’s art work which he is very much into at the moment (and has been selling like hotcakes), it’s time to take a shower and lap up the sunshine whilst checking out the festivities that is going on in the neighbourhood. Happy King’s Day everyone!

IMG_5023The little man caught in an endearing moment with Cecile


some of his latest artwork – an artist in making I sense


It’s King’s Day here, the weather is glorious and in a few hours this country will erupt into one orange fiesta. I really don’t have many plans here. The house is in disarray, so I am thinking of cleaning it out and doing the ironing. It would have a cathartic purpose.

Later this afternoon, the little man and I will have a look at the neighbourhood activities, but as I am not for large crowds I don’t see myself going into the centre to participate in the celebrations like last year. Speaking of which found this pic from last years Kings Day celebrations. One year on and so much can change…

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…April 27th, 2014… I was on my way to Amsterdam, in Lady of the Night – the ultimate femme fatale dress

Contrary to the organisation I am now dealing with (and have strong inclinations on exposing publicly) I am doing absolutely fine. My family has had breakfast, lunch and dinner. We had our showers, we played memory games this morning too. I got help with cleaning up the playroom which made me super happy as a busy mum. We also cleaned out the house of any toy guns, arrows and plastic swords (trust me they came in via the fun fair). What else can I report: on the con side (because I have a strong inclination to be objective), I worked. I’ve also had the fireplace on, which I suppose would be considered unsafe if I happen to momentarily turn my back to it (and yes I’ve turned it off every time I had to go upstairs). I cleaned the house only adequately and I do have a heap of laundry that still needs to be processed.

For the rest I can’t think of anything tremendously bad, but then again as I was told in the last email that my blog posts are unwanted, perhaps I am hereby committing one last violation against Veilig Thuis and against general child rearing policies in the Netherlands.

On that note (and in my defense as I am Swedish the last time I checked), I do want to point out that Sweden has the highest number of bloggers per capita in the world (it’s a national hobby). I also want to bring to the attention that we always had a strong tradition of investigative journalism (Stieg Larsson springs to mind as one example) and Sweden is heralded as one of the frontrunners in equality and social structures which supports human rights.

So again, it constitute my right alined with the freedom of expression, to use this forum to stand up for myself in a situation I consider grossly unfair, but more importantly a system utterly flawed as someone without a police record of any kind, and with no help lent to me in my situation, I am being hounded down – even on a Sunday!

It’s been an interesting day…to say the least. Whilst I was hoping for a rather peaceful Saturday, I received quite a few calls, mails and messages. As I had tagged my last post – WTF – this also summed up the responses, along with a tremendous level of support – from friends and also those that in all honesty don’t know me well, but sympathized. As a rational woman, and someone that don’t easily believe in the written word, I of course caution everyone that this is my story. But with a large enough file to span years, there is a time when it cannot continue to be kept sub rosa. And shouldn’t. That is my guilt and something I feel compelled, given recent events, to rectify.

Another matter I feel obliged to address, is that apart from a lot less “fictional/nano-fiction” stories I will keep this blog as is. It was always about my life, and not necessarily about portraying myself as an angel. I am flawed. I do work crazy hours. I have zest for life. I do forget birthdays, names and faces. I take sleeping pills. I also am since about 3 months a passionate vegetarian. But so was Hitler so it doesn’t make me a better human being. Nor does meditating or professing myself to being a neo-stoic make me any better or worse. And in the end philosophically I don’t believe in right or wrong, but it doesn’t exempt me from duties I have as a parent, colleague, friend or as a modern citizen of the world.

So I suppose I will be more open in line with what I believe society as a whole should be. On that note, it urges me again to draw attention to Omerta – or the Code of Silence


I thought about it….long and hard…did I ever have to write those fictional stories anymore (unless they really were fiction)? Perhaps not, perhaps from this day onwards, I wouldn’t be assaulted and neither would anyone close to me. Of course, random acts of violence occurs everywhere and no one is immune nor exempt of it.

So instead of lying, pretending and making my case through the disguise of “fictional” blog entries I could tell it as it really was. I toyed with the thought….it kept me up a few hours well past midnight. I watched an impassioned plea for the critical situation in Syria to the UN’s Security Council by Angelina Jolie. With her power base I still wondered if it would be enough. If her voice wouldn’t be drowned by the invisible power brokers that are put in place to ensure just so.

And still… When you are faced between the protection of yourself and those closest to you and that of your civic and moral duty. How do you choose?

I thought about how I argued my case based on loopholes in the system that were larger than a meteor crater. I had pointed it out, in fact to the extent I claimed with the Dutch legal definition of child abuse I was as guilty as any. I challenged the restraining order as I was in a position I had already broken it. I challenged these people behind their municipal titles to file a police report against me. Surely my crime warranted to be examined more carefully, as well as everyone else in a similar situation. They were according to the system victims, yet their juxtaposition had turned them into perpetrators of the worst kind, but were they ever brought to justice?

I am by far not without guilt. I bare more guilt than anyone else, especially when measured up against stone cold rationale. Even though I had pointed it out…and again do so here….publicly, as the apparent perpetrator of child abuse, and a far lessor felony, breaking a restraining order, I should – if not be arrested – at least be questioned.

My thoughts went to my teacher, to my mum, to Marcus Aurelius….and to everyone I could conjure up that took on the system knowing it would ruin their reputation, their livelihood yet stood up for something that was their duty.

So forget France, forget tomorrow, forget the next paycheck and let’s take this on. And let me tell you this….I have no anger towards anyone here, only towards myself for my idiotic and foolish attempts to repair and restore.

And my feelings towards the system that miserably failed people that needed the help the most? I can tell you this, you have not heard the last of me. To Mr. van der Hoek and to your superior Mr. Schneiders (the Mayor of Haarlem), I am still baffled that a paper pusher can sign a restraining order in your name when you have ties to the people involved. Is this what you call an impartial system? Perhaps you can clarify it to me, as well as the other processes and proceedings, some of them legal, which failed to address the core problem.

If one in 4 in this country has been subjected to domestic abuse according to various reports, and this is a world wide phenomena, I am utterly baffled that anno 2015, the Netherlands could not conjure up any support nor address the situation beyond a few inadequate reports. But as Joseph Stalin understood so very well…. “One death is a tragedy; one million is a statistic.”

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The Face of Evil? I challenge you…

I went to sleep with the knowledge that my blog had for some reason been reset to an earlier version. If you believe in God, one would be inclined to say “God punishes”. And perhaps my misdeeds will. It’s a comfort we all like to believe in – if not the system, then karma. Depending on where you are in the world one might work more in your favour than the other. Ultimately it’s all statistics and likelihood playing out your cards.

So to your question…did I delete those posts? No, I didn’t. The server had an unexpected reset – et voila!

Today is another day, and my “don’t-give-a-damn” attitude hasn’t changed in the last 24 hours (or longer in fact), I am content with an early rise (7 am), breakfast, playing memory until I began to get a winner’s streak and Sebastian wasn’t so keen on continuing.

The weather is drab, but at some point we will challenge the weather Gods and feed the ducks.

And for now…I am listening to classical, whilst drinking my coffee and doing what I do best – blogging :).


Seneca is not a bad choice for now

You who are reading this may or may not know that my family is going through a very difficult time at this moment. It’s the reason my posts have been intermittent and scanty at best. It’s difficult to write in one’s normal semi-truthful way when actually every word can act as a nuclear fueled boomerang. Thus it is….what our relationship lines so often are reduced to…complicated.

But despite complication, which right now feels like climbing the Berlin Wall (the survival rate in its time lower that Mount Everest I would imagine), I am tremendously grateful for all the support my family and I have received in the last week. It is overwhelming. I might personally come knocking on some of those doors and call for those hands stretched out to me. I hope I am not overstaying my welcome…but if so please do say so.

One thing we all know (at least if we have reached the mark of 30)…life never goes according to plan. In fact with the little time I have had in the last week, the few times I read, I read my own blog. Being able to tracing events – concealed and revealed – like the palm of my hand. I know the lines, the threads, the valleys disguised as peaks. I know the absolute moment I lost faith in everything and started to read the Art of War. But then again there are other events which are even shrouded in mist…even for myself…for my own protection I dare say.

But this post is not about all those thoughts and what did happen…and what did not (there are two sides to every story don’t forget).

It is instead about two other matters…apologies for my absence….on so many levels.
…and Thank You All for your help, in whatever way it has come in. I am deeply grateful for it and although I can be a total imbecile when it comes to showing my gratefulness I hope one day to be able to return the favour. It would be my honour.