My bucket list is nearly non-existent. Most things are done, some are and were rubbish.
Do you still want to see me write about it?
'Yes, Madam! Please tell us all you want.'

My life and travels started long ago, even before my marriage. With my parents I saw France several times, Italy and the former Yugoslavia.

Only a couple of recurrent problems:
My grand mother let us cook in the back, as she did not tolerate open windows-she worried her hair got messy. Her hair was painted black and had a net around it to keep it in place. Who cared while on holiday. She apparently did, just like Mum she demanded silk pajamas when she had to be admitted years later to the Leiden University Hospital. I considered this ridiculous. My younger sister put them all in.
My father did not give us enough sanitary stops, we tried not stink the car up with pee and pooh.
His reason was: 'I like to get to the hotel soon as possible?!' We: 'Not fair at all, daddy'.
When we arrived at the hotel, he commanded us around to unload the car. This caused quite some aggro. We did not mind doing it too much. All he had to do was ask or explain why. This was later solved by Mum. She started taking him in for a drink and explained that after a near deadly pneumonia he really could not cope. We did it ourselves from then onwards.

Minor item: mornings were spent on the beach, afternoons sightseeing.
Second minor item: his love for photography. We had to pose at the weirdest and most awkward places, like on steep hills, rough areas. One location I knew now. We went inland in Yugoslavia to a farm, a long hike: high and rocky. We met a farmer who immediately asked us inside, into his farm. He fed us all. On our request we went outside and he showed us a litter of half-wild kittens and let us ride his two donkeys though.

All of this cured me and most likely all of us from agreeing to be photographed. I inherited his passion though.

Photography is my thing as well. I discovered far too late that my husband liked it too. He got no chance. I bought him a nice camera, but then he wanted to take the same photos , that I already took. I should have just let him win, as taking similar photos to my ones already was a big achievement. And silly me did not even think about this. How bad and stupid can one get?


It is too late now as he died 15th December after a prolonged illness. I still miss him so. Even more now quite a few of the caretakers (from Icare) have it in for me. At least that is how I see it at the moment. This morning I was going to send one away by police, but let her in any way at the end. I gave them a very low judgement on a countrywide website. I also managed to bargain her in to trying to get my lift in the bath set up better. Which did not really work.

I asked to talk her to talk to Fia -also from this site as Dutchie-, that helped somewhat.
She intended to phone the psychiatric emergency services, so I gave her the telephone number: I had phoned them last night. But as I will let someone in Monday night, she did not.

A bath I manage myself nowadays with my new bath lift- their nurse Risk told me to find it myself, but neither me nor others managed this. So I bought a new one worth 300 euros.
Shall I send Icare a bill for this? I reckon either my sickness insurance or the tax will have to contribute.

Now back to Robert and I: We moved more frequent than I can tell you. Sometimes even once a year. I truly love moving house, but the last few years Robert did not want it. And to be honest: I don`t think I would be up to it either.

An other factor is: I certainly don`t want to loose Anton: He is a better Psychiatrist than my previous colleague and I. He knows psychiatry and many physical things. But even if I lived at the other side of the country, I would still go and see him the obligatory four times a year.

Robert and I had added a few countries: Turkey, Mexico ( that was such an exceptional country and trip- we saw things that we never had seen before). Tunisia too. Robert was always so patient, if I wanted to go further, he`s wait.

Just one thing I did not do yet, but it might come: A safari to South Africa, preferably Kenia.
That will be my final trip as I can`t fly very well because of my heart problems. I`d be very lonely as you can`t expect anybody to come with you.


OR could YOU?

GOD might accept HIS invitation.

He`d have to promise not to try and save me.

I hope you ALL understand.