Finally! Moving House - Happiness is not the destination - it's the way.

Good evening, my friends.
This will be the last post written from my old house. From tomorrow onwards, Viggo the Macho, my offspring and I will be living in another house right at the other side of the same town in The Wetlands.
So it is with great anticipation, and huge tiredness (after all, work at school simply must go on) that I will be packing the last couple of boxes.

Viggo is not that concerned; he loves boxes and has sniffed, bit and scratched almost every single one by now. He spends his nights on top of the box which appeals to him most at that moment, so all of them now have a Viggo-shaped indentation. 

We will be painting and moving in first, and will keep moving Viggo between houses for last... Him jumping out of the van and disappearing is a recurring nightmare... Him going walkabout and trying to find his way back to his old home is another... I lost a cat that way once, who tried to walk back, had to cross a motorway and was killed.

But, let's look on the bright side, right?

This post is to tide you over; I don't know how soon my new internet account will be up and working. The ads say "immediately", but I am wise to the world of providers by now. Let's hope soon.

Isn't it weird to be doing everything for the last time since 23 years? 

(Viggo shouts I shouldn't keep asking rhetorical questions)

Yes, it is weird! Some things I will miss (the geese honking their way across the sky every morning and evening), some I will not (the neighbors' parties).

So, wish us luck?

(Oh, shut up, Viggo!)

Hi fans, Viggo here!

Damn, I now understand all these comfy boxes are to be moved! I loved it in my house these last couple of weeks, all kinds of hideaway places and boxes and a lot less hoovering than usual. Me, having to "be moved" ? Not on your life! I am not, stress NOT, getting into that van. I refuse! She can promise me kilos of crunchy nibbles, I don't care.

The last word has not been said on this subject!

Viggo's Blog - Let It Snow!!

Hi fans, Viggo here.

My woman tells me that there's a huge climate conference in Paris, France at the moment. She says it is to do with my weather.
Yes, sure, it is your weather too, but basically it is more my weather, 'cause I'm out in it for most of my days and nights, and I bet you're not!

Don't know about your experiences, but over here in The Wetlands it has been raining for weeks now. The water in the rivers and other waterways is extremely high, in fact it is only just in the waterways (as opposed to the waterways becoming simply 'ways' - meaning they are flooding the surroundings).
Now, I don't swim much, but I'm wet all the same all the effing time! It takes me ages to groom, and my woman bans me from her bed.

Let it snow, I say!!

Snow is fun. Yes, it is cold at first, but it smells lovely and clean, and it makes a delightful sound when you jump a mouse in snow. And I adore watching it fall from the sky.

I have told you this before, but in case you suffer from early onset dementia I'll tell you again: I am convinced Kate Bush is half cat. And she has recorded a wonderful song about snow, which says it all.

Nice friendly cat that I am, I have provided you with a link. Enjoy!Snowflake

Until next time, Tar rah!

Viggo's Blog: Congrats to Me (and My Woman)

Hi fans, Viggo here.
This post is to commemorate the fact that my Blog is entering its 3rd year tomorrow, Nov. 24th. 

HURRAY!

So, I thought long and hard about what I could do to celebrate, and the thought occurred to me that the thing that would please you most, would be a photo of me.
So here it is. This is me in a sunny spot on the clean laundry.

This is a weird month...
A two year anniversary (I think I deserve something, don't you? Like...I know, like some nice fresh expensive crunchy nibbles!), and a move all within a couple of weeks of each other.
My woman is packing cardboard boxes and she says that I am not to customize them...Spoilsport!

Oh...go on, admire me once more. This is me in one of my favorite spots in the garden. I will miss that spot! It had just the right temperature and airflow.

Right. Next time I write you a post it will be from my new domicile. Until then,
tar rah!

'The Son' by Jo Nesbo - A Book Review

Whilst I'm still reeling with the aftershock of the events in Paris, I've decided to finish the book review I had in mind for you for last Sunday. Life does go on...fortunately, for most of us.

What I want to recommend to you for some exciting (and medium light-) reading, is a book by the Norwegian writer (and musician) Jo Nesbo.
I have read the Vintage Books 2015 edition, with an excellent English translation by Charlotte Barslund.
Jo Nesbo has been published in 48 languages, and his books have been topping the charts for years. So it's a bit strange (for such a hungry reader as myself) that 'The Son' was the first novel I've read by him.
But certainly not the last! He has gained himself a fan!

This modern crime story unfolds in Oslo, and I am not (oh no, not not not) going to give away the plot.
But what I do want to tell you is that Nesbo's characters are so very true to life that I had the feeling I knew them. He is one shrewd and observant judge of  human nature, and gives his main clay footed heroes their own distinctive voice. One of the most memorable ones to me (but that surely has to do with my profession as a teacher) is a young boy, Markus. But also the tired jaded policeman Simon Kefas is very well portrayed, and so is one of the female characters, Martha.

Nesbo tells the tragical story of a man and his son using many people's viewpoints. It is as if you are standing in someone else's shoes every new chapter. Obviously the son called Sonny, the entire book pivots around him, is present in almost every chapter, and is an anti-hero if ever there was one. There are subtle references to that other anti-heroic son, the one from the Bible, without it getting annoying or overdone.
There are some rather gruesome scenes, so do not attempt it if you are a bit squeamish or if you have a phobia for dogs. But it doesn't get too detailed or blood-and-gory anywhere. If you can stomach Kay Scarpetta, you absolutely will be able to stomach Sonny Lofthus.

Nesbo has written many other novels. I know what will be on my Christmas list!

Liberté, Egalité, Fraternité!

Good morning to you.

How are you this morning? I hope it finds you healthy and peaceful.

MY THOUGHTS ARE WITH THE PEOPLE OF PARIS

This is the Place de la République, where my daughter and I saw the concert to celebrate the birthday of Nelson Mandela two Summers ago. As multi-culti as you can get, with everyone (all colors and all religions) enjoying the music and lovely summer evening.

It breaks my heart to hear and watch (on TV) what is going on in Paris right now.
It is only 3 hours away from where we live. Another country, yes, but one whose values we respect.

Through this humble means of a blog post I want to tell the people of Paris, and of France at large, that my thoughts are with you all. 
Courage, mes amis!

How to give an instruction?

Good evening!
Today was your typical day at college; yawning (somewhat smelly and sometimes even hung-over) young men mixed with fresh-faced bright-eyed peppy young men and everything in between.
I love my job, most of the time.

Yesterday (and the day before - mwah....best let's not go there) were tough days. I blame the pending storm that's waiting just to the North of here. It's due to hit The Wetlands tomorrow, with wind speeds of up to or even over 100 kph. Young adults they may be, but my guys sure do react to weather conditions!

Anyway, today I taught how to instruct. I always try to make this sort of fun as well as educational, with lots of examples from real life and referring to popular TV shows I know they watch, etcetera.
Yesterday (okay...sigh, let's go there for a bit then) this turned into a shouting match and can be written off as a total disaster, causing my math-colleague-and-neighbor to come storming into my classroom through the dividing door, absolutely livid because "he couldn't hear himself speak anymore". This man is a bit of a prima donna, but he had a point. Let's be fair.

What happened? I had instructed (see titel) the class (of 29 guys and 1 girl) to watch a short video about how to turn your smart phone into a security camera and to list all the imperative verbs they heard. Two guys had to write the verbs down on the whiteboard, and the class (divided into two teams) had to write them down too and afterwards help their team members.
The only thing was, I had forgotten to instruct them not to shout...
So, in the heat of the battle, they screamed their verbs to the front; hence my irate colleague.

Today, mindful of my neighbor, I made sure I instructed the other class (I have 7 of them to teach this curriculum to) to keep their gobs shut, at all times, and to whisper their verbs after walking quietly to the front.
This worked. I had fun watching them skulk up to their mate with the marker, and whisper their verbs into his ear. 

They liked my example about a spider (How to weave a web), especially the bit where I instruct them to insert a time-frame ("Time-frame: A couple of hours. Have a beer whilst waiting") but told me my drawing sucks. They are right. It does.

I found this picture on the internet, it is brilliant and has nothing to do with the subject of this post. Still. I feel like that owl sometimes.

A Goodbye (by Viggo and Me)

Good afternoon, where ever you are!
This is an Autumnial goodbye of sorts.
I have finally found myself another house, you see. But with a small garden, yay!
This post is to help me say goodbye to my present garden, which I have put in a lot of hours and heaps of love to make it beautiful.

When we arrived here almost 23 years ago, the garden didn't deserve the name! It was a barren plot of land with an untrimmed conifer hedge, a load of nettles and one clump of red tulips. Which has survived to this day, mind, so that were some sturdy tulips!

We started by putting in a liguster hedge and trimming those conifers, and then slowly but surely dug it over, created borders, planted trees, built sheds, put in a greenhouse and finally dug a pond.

Due to circumstances I am leaving this garden, and it is the one thing (although to me it is more than simply a 'thing') that I have trouble leaving behind.

Hi fans, Viggo here!

Yep. It is true. We will be leaving this property in a couple of weeks time. 

I have mixed feelings. On the one hand I will be shot of that Maine Coon, absolutely a positive development. But on the other hand, I grew up here! My woman brought me here as a youngster of tender months, and I walked my first walk outside and caught my first mouse in front of that shed. Not to mention my frogs... I will miss my frogs so much!

But I understand that my woman has no other option. And in fact that I am lucky and should count my  blessings. I could easily have ended up an apartment cat...with only a litter tray. The horror!!!

Most of the plants are already going dormant, but some of them are still making the effort to look their best.

Where I am moving, another part of the same town, I am near the polder as well, so that will be good. And there is a small garden, mostly paving stones but with some shrubs, so I can try to entice the small birds there as well. No room for a pond, but never mind.

She'll do everything to make that garden a tiny paradise for me as well, wanna bet? 

And there will be mice there as well, I'm sure.

She's told me there are quite a few other cats in that street though...I will have to have loads of crunchy nibbles to keep my strength up!

Right, tar rah!