Collecting Moments

Non-Amsterdam Amsterdam :)

Ice-cream anyone? :)

That morning the sand storm brought Santa. The one I’ve seen in foreign books - in a red suit with long white beard. - I didn’t get a chance to talk to you earlier on. I just would like to wish you a happy Christmas, - he said. - Thank you, - I didn’t know what I was supposed to answer. - How are you? Where are you from? - The desert. - Oh, I heard it’s a beautiful place. Mrs. Claus was telling me the other day that it’s all sand there. Is it? - It is. - You see, all we see really is snow. It’s all white over there. - All we see here is sun, - I said laughing. - I wouldn't like sun, I would melt in the sun. Now, I’ve heard you’ve been very very good. - Really? - Yes, so what would you like for Christmas? - I’d like to see the world. - Oh, that’s great. - Can I stay, Santa, in your house? - I have to ask Ms. Clause first. And you’ll have to share the room with loads of elves. Do you like elves? - I think, I do. And I want to see the snow. - Oh, that’s easy. But now ...

This is Bob, 70 years old. He buys ruins and turns them into beautiful atmospheric houses working all alone. "Tomorrow there will be a kitchen here..."

I loved the colors in that shop. All those orange, red, black, blue little drops that Mary used to put in my hand. Seven of them - for each day of the week. My favorite candy was the pink one - it was sour and sweet at the same time and I left it until the last day. It reminded me of Mary. She lived in a dark cold house but always met us with a tender, beautiful smile. She had lovely kind eyes and told us the same story every time we dropped into the shop before going to the cinema on Saturday. I've forgotten it unfortunately. Last weekend I was in town and went over to buy sweets for my kids. Mary opened the door for me, smiled and said: “Remember I told you that my father had the first bicycle store in Roscommon…”

Just the beauty of time growing through...

Hiked 23 km today to see the Ballycowan castle (XVI c.). A middle-aged man opened the gate for us. He's been living all his life in a 500-year-old cottage on the farm next to the ruins. No wife, no children. All alone he's become as integral part of history as the castle in his backyard.