Lesley + Adam

Every intention was made to tell you about our travels to Prague today, however, I can’t. At least not yet. Our lives are wrapped and intertwined so much with each other that before we moved we decided we wouldn’t have a TV in our new place. It’s been lovely! We enjoy each others company. We listen to music. We read books. However, sometimes we’re so wrapped up and intertwined we forget about the rest of the world.

So when our beautiful mahogany filled hotel room had a TV we decided to watch the only English channel, BBC, and I was devastated and heart broken about the news in Japan. I can’t get it out of my mind. Our precious Earth is breaking apart, and we need to do something to help the suffering.

In light of my birthday, please consider giving. I’m not one to ask people to give, but we’re called to reach out so please consider giving to any organization that you feel fits your beliefs and values that will help ease the suffering of the victims of recent events.

Japan Earthquake and Tsunami: Red Cross

New Zealand Earthquake: Red Cross

Australia Flooding and Cyclone: Red Cross

Photo from Boston.com

Regular posting will resume tomorrow, thank you.

White – A purity. A simple effort.  A soft romance. A clean slate. A colour that represents this week, that was so full of heart felt emotion. Monday came with the luxurious opportunity to linger in bed just a little bit longer than usual, and then move to the couch wrapped in a soft warm blanket, grey fleece slippers on my feet, and a cup of warm water to settle my stomach. It was a day for recovery and loving emails sent from Adam making sure I was well, while allowing myself to stay indoors. A kiss on my forehead, a dinner prepared, and another cup of warm water, I quickly fall asleep to rest my body after a day of stomach issues.

Well rested, Tuesday found us enjoying a quiet morning together while I sleepily followed him around the house. He enjoyed my company and had a difficult time leaving for work, but left me with a lingering kiss to show he loved me. I slowly gather myself and prepare for a quiet day. I run an errand to the post and pick up a new notebook. Purple, my colour, with blank pages waiting for me to write in. I stop in a chocolate shop, and stare at the beautiful arrangement of chocolates and packaging. I decide this is where I want to write and sit down at a table that faces the window. A cappuccino ordered served in a white mug, I people watch and start to write. Words flow and start to create sentences, then paragraphs, then pages. My hand cannot stop. I feel a release and it feels good, soothing, almost spiritual. I come home and transfer my words from paper onto my computer and start to think of what to prepare my love for dinner. A quick walk through the city, we end another evening with a glass of Merlot, brie cheese and some chorizo to celebrate the beginning of my birthday month. We go to bed happy and giddy, thankful for another day to celebrate simple things.

Wednesday. A day for cleaning, restarting, and preparing for our guest. A day of frustration when I didn’t feel like our guest room was going to be finished for our beloved friend. Dirt upon dirt, leaking pipes, and missing parts to a bed. Feeling hopeless, I leave the house and walk around in the sun and feel my mood getting lighter. I stop by the market and pick up some flowers, purple tulips. Our guest’s girlfriend loves purple tulips so I decide to bring a piece of her to us while he’s here. Six dozen tulips, a deep purple with fresh green leaves, filling glass and white vases adorn our house, and it feels lovely. I settle on knowing our guest bedroom might not feel perfect, but he’ll feel loved. We work till the late evening, painting our dinning room table white, then in front of our blue screens, and I suddenly miss home. Holding myself together, I ask Adam to go to bed, and we crawl in, thankful for our heating blanket. I hold him near me, smelling his skin, feeling his skin against mine, and I feel blessed.

Thursday, I wake up with a fire in my soul, a spark that I can hardly contain. I tidy our home, take a shower, then end it wrapped in a lovely fresh white towel. I enjoy another simple breakfast of steel cut oats, but this time with a sprinkle of raw brown sugar. I like simple. I spend some time catching up on things around the web and learn about a new artist, a writer who inspires me to continue writing and to help change the world. I am ready to take on the world and decide to dress in clothing that doesn’t match. Conflicting patterns fighting for attention, yet in my signature colours of purple turquoise and grey. With the sun shinning brightly I walk to my destination with my new purple notebook in hand. I order an espresso. Simple. I start to write, and the fire that I awoke with turns into a blaze, that my hand start to shake with excitement. This passion takes a hold and it explodes onto paper. I stop every once in awhile to take a breath as sometimes it’s too much for me to bare. My espresso becomes cold as I continue to write. In a short time, I feel changed, rejuvenated, and fired up with love and determination. I send an email to Adam, a quick introduction of what is to come in the evening, my thoughts. My dreams. The dreams I want us to achieve together. And he answers back with a simple answer. Yes! And I smile thinking, ‘It’s only Thursday!’.

The light in the room is dim, the street light and the candles in the fireplace serve as our only illumination. I hear the kettle sounding it’s sweet song to let us know it’s ready to be poured. A strawberry and pomegranate tea is waiting for us to enjoy with raw brown sugar for the stirring. We decide to relax and end the day in our living room. Its disjointed, it’s not homey or us, but with the candles it feels romantic. Like a beautiful Italian restaurant. Our eyes are getting heavy in the dark, and our cups sit half empty. A fleece blanket is brought along with our pillows and we set up in front of the fireplace. The candles flicker in the draft that comes down the chimney. We cuddle close together. My right cheek resting on the left side of his body, I hear his heartbeat. It lulls me to sleep. An hour. Perhaps two. I find my hand being tugged and him saying “Let’s go to bed”.

After a cold run through the city, we end another night somewhat like the night before. Candles lit, flickering in the draft, but with wine this time. A French Pinot Gris and Dutch cream puffs to taste on our tongues. We lounge on our black leather couches, him sprawled out on the larger one, me wrapped in a beige blanket gifted from family back home on the smaller one. In between sips and sweet cream on our lips we talk about painting, music, and fashion but mostly it’s a comfortable silence. The silence that happens when we wash dishes, when we make the bed, or walk down the street together. The ‘this is the one I love and I don’t need to say a thing, cause they just know’ silence. And I revel in it. Eventually I find myself curled up to him again. He adjusts while we wraps me in his arms so that we can both settle into the couch. 5 minutes, perhaps 10, eventually he tugs my hand and says “Let’s go to bed”. -L.

Yesterday was a day for dreaming, for walking along the cobble stone streets, then sitting in a new favourite café while sipping on a latte while writing in a note book. It was a day for putting pen to paper and letting your thoughts flow with no distractions or restrictions, to let your mind wander and dream up anything. Anything is possible. If it wasn’t for dreams we wouldn’t be living here in Holland, because I’m sure somehow it would have been said it couldn’t be done. But we continue to dream of all that is possible and even the things that we don’t even think might be possible.

We dream of making our new house a home. Of decorating and redoing. Of speaking Dutch and French fluently. Of traveling the world and finding new favourite places. Of owning a bike to peddle around in, with a possible spot for a babe. Of cooking healthy dinners with ingredients that are in season and throwing dinner parties with new and old friends. Of welcoming old friends into our new world and showing them everything we’ve learned. Of living in Paris and ordering delicious pastries in French for each other and a babe or two. Of becoming a desired portrait and fashion photographer. Of being able to work side by side together on days that it rains and he doesn’t want to go to work. Of traveling back home to with tales of adventure and excitement while cuddling next to loved ones and loving the simplicities of home. Of holding each others hand while we watch our dreams come true.

Have you dreamed lately? -L.