In the evening, an hour or so before the sun sets, I frequently go out for a long walk along the sea dyke, just half a mile to the north of our village. There is nothing out there but a couple of farms, fields and meadows. It is as flat as the Netherlands can get, and the sky takes over. (Being an Aquarius, I really dig it when that happens. More power to the sky, I say!)

On my walks, I am accompanied by the occasional hare, countless birds (oystercatchers, swallows, sea-gulls and what not) and dozens of sheep. Although I know they function as grass-cutters for the dyke, I like to think the owner put them there for my entertainment.

Sheep are such gentle creatures. Even when there are fifty or so within my antennas reach, I do not get crowded. That's because they are quite zen. (They do not have the same capacity for thought as us humans, which to me seems to be an excellent way to survive this crazy world. Think less, eat more grass.)

The sheep and I have an understanding. I talk, they listen. When dusk falls and the grasslands quiver in the intense energy splurge of the dying sun, they play catch with the hares and snap at a few pesky gulls. That's their way to unwind after a long day of grazing. Sometimes they nibble at my backpack. I've even had one attempting to read my scribblings. (I think they might be near-sighted, because he did not understand one iota of my philosophical writings.)

The day before yesterday, I went out in the afternoon for a quick meet and greet with the flock, and came across a heavily pregnant ewe that had fallen on her back whilst trying to climb the steep dyke. She lay there helplessly, with two of her older children by her side. I knew not to pull her legs (nobody likes it when you pull their leg, sheep and humans alike), so I kneeled by her side and ever so gently pushed her till she got back on her feet. She shivered, I asked "You OK?" and she nodded sagely and whispered in my mind "You too?" After which she turned and quietly started grazing again. She might well have died there if I hadn't stopped by (it was a Sunday and it was raining, so nobody would venture out there, not even the flock owner), but she didn't think about that. It was business as usual.

A few years ago, when I was still learning the tricks of the trade painting-wise, I came up with this funny idea of a sheep with the Dutch flag on its head. Back then, I thought sheep were fairly stupid creatures. The painting was my idea of a pun on the current status of the Western world. Brainless fools we were, meek as sheep. Baah, baah.

I gave the painting to a dear friend, who enjoys it very much. He put my flag-covered sheep up on the wall of his apartment in the big city.

Now that I know that sheep have this mindfullness thing all figured out, the painting means something different to me. This is a wabisabi creature, toying with Western society. Given free range, it will sort things out in no time. No thinking required. It will do what has to be done, and then there will be peace. (The world should be ruled by such wise beings. Clearly, politicians are not there yet, not by a long chalk.)

I really like it when things shift like that in my mind.

Don't you just love how rays of sun always seem to make everything prettier?

In the afternoon, when the Big Prettifier shines through our tiny bathroom window, I just forget about the ugly tiles and raunchy finishing of the bath and shower. Suddenly, I don't mind that the toilet hasn't been cleaned properly in a fortnight. I just sit there and marvel at the wondrous light.

Dear Corner Viewers,

I am sorry, I let you down. We've been busy meeting deadlines for work which should pay for our current bills, meeting self-imposed deadlines for new ventures which will hopefully pay for future bills, fulfilling the in-your-face demands of the never-ending household and then some...

In short, we've been (wo)men at work:

Top3 complains about a funny feeling in his stomach. He thinks it might be an emotion. Then he mentions a girl.

The GoGo sceneries these past couple of days provide further evidence. Our boy is in luuurve. (When asked about this, he'll deny of course. He loves his stuffed animals, his Warhammer army, his GoGos. But girls? Yikes.)

"Will you marry me?" - "Yes."

Exchange of vows (and colors, apparently)

Love potion, anyone?

Last week Top1 turned 48. We were far too busy and tired to celebrate big time, so we ended up with a series of low key celebrations. On Monday we presented some gifts, on Tuesday we decorated the house and played a family game, on Wednesday we presented some more gifts, etcetera. I also baked Francesca's carrot cake and a few loafs of banana cake, and as an added bonus made some banana ice cream.

Yesterday, we had a few friends over and I made some more carrot cake (because it tastes really, really good!). I used my own almond meal, which I make by soaking raw almonds overnight, putting them in the blender and then straining them through a clean cloth. Also, I didn't use grated carrot but carrot pulp and a bit of juice from the juicing machine (carrot is a staple in our vegetable juices). And lastly, I added a few spoons of coconut flour to the recipe, because I've grown into the habit of adding this to all things baked. Coconut flour tastes a bit sweet, which means I can add less sugar, and it contains a lot of fiber.

The picture above is of Top1 blowing out the carrot cake candles. Ain't he cute?

Afterwards, I presented home-made egg salad, sunflower seed pâté and potato bread. (Although I do enjoy cooking from scratch, this is also born out of necessity. Because of Lyme, Top1 can't eat foods with E621 (MSG) or artificial sweeteners. If he does, he'll be sick for a couple of days.)

To round up this homely post, below is the recipe for the potato bread. Please bear in mind that my cooking is kind of intuitive, which means I have a hard time following recipes. This is what I remember using yesterday, for two medium loafs.

There are no pictures of the bread - the hungry mob ate it all before I thought of getting out my camera again.

Ingredients

* 4 medium potatoes
* approx. 350 gr mix of buckwheat flour and wholemeal flour, with a couple of spoons of nutritional yeast flakes
* 2 teaspoons baking powder
* 1 teaspoon salt
* pepper
* thyme
* 3 (spring) onions
* approx. 200 gr goat cheese
* 2 eggs
* 3 spoons milk
* one package of cottage cheese
* 3 teaspoons yellow mustard

Preparation

Peel and grate the potatoes. Add flour, baking powder, salt, pepper, thyme, finely chopped onions and cubes of goat cheese to the potatoes. Stir well.

In another bowl, mix eggs with milk, cottage cheese and mustard.

Add the wet ingredients to the dry ingredients. It shouldn't be too sticky. Don't knead - that will result in a rather massive bread.

Heap onto non-stick baking sheet, or in greased loaf pans.

Bake for 45-60 minutes at 180 degrees Celsius.

Top4 has followed in the footsteps of Top1 and Top3. This is a Battle Sister she painted, belonging to an army of Warhammer miniatures. And Top4 wouldn't be Top4 if she hadn't created a suitable background piece for her little sister as well (some periwinkle flowers from the garden, embedded in tin foil).

PS The house is too large to keep up in cleaning. We had a cleaning lady for a while, but cannot afford her anymore. Now it just gets dirty ;-)

PPS Most of my paintings are temporarily on show on my Dutch writing blog. Click on the Accent Aigu banner on the side to open it, then look for "Schilderijen".

Our house is rather large (almost 2500 square feet). Top1 is a notorious hoarder, I am the exact opposite and Top3 and Top4 are somewhere in between, though Top3 does take after his father. He had a hard time getting rid of obsolete toys when we moved Top4 to her own room and cleared out his room in the process.

All of the items in our house crave attention, or so it seems to me. I tend to get overwhelmed. My office is small, bright yellow and only contains a computer, a simple wooden desk, a chair and a cabinet. Nothing on the walls. Peace.

The studio (where I dwell less and less, regrettably) contains an easel, a rocking chair and a low cabinet. And my paintings, drawings and installations, of course. Again: peace.

When I go to sleep after a hectic day, I often visualize a room. It somewhat resembles the dollhouse room above. Sparsely furnished. Friendly atmosphere. Nothing on the walls. The outer world peeking through the door. Peace at last.

Please visit Francesca at FuoriBorgo for more
Corner Views of the world.

It has been one year this month. One year of me recording our creativity, mostly in pictures, sometimes in words.

I have enjoyed the experience so far. It has taught me a few things about myself, my family and the world at large that I didn't know.

For example, it turns out that I can be quite funny. Not many tell me that IRL. Most people see me as a rather serious person, scarred by life. Which is true to some extent, but I am determined to get younger and more joyful each day.

("You are so deep, man, it gives me the creeps", a 17 YO rapper told me about ten years ago, when our paths crossed at a camping ground. I was 27 then, and it pleased me immensely that he went on to say: "But for a woman of your age you are surprisingly easy to talk too." Oh, bless his drunken heart.)

Also, it turns out that our family creativity is loaded with a kind of innocent playfulness which seems to be very appealing. Top1 and I do not see eye to eye on many things (if ever a man and a woman were complete and utter opposites... life is interesting, but tiresome at times), but we are in whole-hearted agreement on stimulation of lateral thinking by infusing our lives with creativity. We teach Top3 and Top4 to think out of the box, which might well be the most important lesson we have to offer in this crazy modern age.

Lastly, it turns out that the world is filled with like-minded people. In our little hide-out in the northern-most part of the Netherlands, we feel quite isolated. Hence our decision to move house, hopefully sometime this decade... Blogging, and especially blogging within the circle of Corner View friends, has given me the opportunity to interact with a broad variety of people. I am humbled by the thought that there are people out there willing to delve into our creative flow with us.

To conclude this festive post, I present to you a bit of creativity from each and every one of us Flowtops:

As a silly aside, Top1 took a shot of me jumping against the background of a torn brown paper to show off this beautiful copper bracelet he made (not at all suitable for the ankles of a medium built woman nearing her forties, mind you).

Well, it's the motion that counts. Sorta.

Please visit Francesca at FuoriBorgo for more
Corner Views of the world. (It'll be worth your while.)

PS The bracelet was never intended for use on a womans ankle, hence my comment. As it was, I had a hard time getting it off. Luckily, the design allows for a custom length. So, with a few adjustments, it can be used as a necklace, an arm bracelet, an ankle bracelet, perhaps even a belt...

PPS This blog will never be about product placement (I know it was a pun, Don). But the main emphasis is on our creative flow, which also happens to be one of the ways in which we earn a living. So there will obviously be some cross-over, now and then.

Last weekend, we went to a barefoot trail. We have been there before, it is always a treat.

Top4 is a handful these days. (Oh, who am I kidding. She has never been anything but a handful. A funny, quirky, lovely handful, but nonetheless...) On the one hand, she is a daredevil and doesn't care if she gets wet or dirty or falls out of a tree. She likes to hold hands, gives us flowers, makes gifts for her teacher, for her friends, for us.

On the other hand, she is a six-year old drama queen, still screaming NO like a toddler.

We gently (or not so gently, if she starts kicking) correct the ugly behaviour. Meanwhile, we try to hold on to the good parts, like this walk along the barefoot trail, on a sunny day in May.

At the moment, our lives seems to follow the "one-step-forward-two-steps-back" rhythm. Luckily, research has shown that a step back is always smaller than a step forward!

Yesterday, on Dutch Queens Day, we sold some of our old & obsolete stuff at the traditional street market.

Just when we had decided to call it quits, Top3, who was rooting about in a cardboard box left on the pavement by a market vendor with a rather talkative parrot, gave a big shout.

"A Treasure Map! I've found me a real Treasure Map!"

Not minutes later Top4 was approached by an Old Man, accompanied by a strange looking creature called Mr. Nilsson (holding a banana peel in one hand, and the key to the cabin of a sailing ship in the other.) They had a rather lucrative business proposition.

Now, our lives seem to have turned upside down. I've had to dye my hair red (tried for pigtails this morning, but obviously didn't quite succeed). Also, I've been practicing yells like "Ahoy there!".

Together with the little Tops, I'll embark on a secret mission tomorrow first thing.

Top1'll take care of our Villa.

Have a good one, mates!

(If you don't hear from us by the end of this week, please organize a search party. Our ship sails north...)