Things I've learnt about Latvia

Ive found time to write my blog because I refuse to study on holiday and we've come to Latvia. It's not a summer beach holiday in Greece but I figured the kids would neve let me sunbathe any ways so I might as well check out a new style of culture. Its not very Russian here. I'm not sure what I was expecting but the houses are not all made out of wood. The women are not all overly busty blondes and they don't all pass time playing dominos whilst shooting vodka or driving fast cars. Racism aside its not very different from any other European city. Well, apart the following discoveries.

1) Latvians don't smile very much, in fact they don't use their body language, facial expressions or hand gestures any where as much as we do. They appear relatively stoic, but this could be untrue, it could be that I miss these added emphasises because they are cultural and I'm not looking out for the one they offer. It's decidedly noticeable to us though when a small toddling child stops, grins and shouts 'ello' with a mechanical wave whilst getting in the way that people gamely even step around her, let alone respond.
3) children here are identical to those at home. They still wake up earlier than their parents want them to , they love eating snacks and hate eating meals (even if they are the same food), and often declare, 'I NEVER get to....' When u say no to doing the same thing four times in a row.
4) In Riga they love a museum, these are some of them. The sun museum (interesting that the sun is everywhere but no one else has a museum on it) the museum of ancient Baltic Jewelry, museum of Romans Suta and Aleksandra Belcova (to be fair they could be awesome Rock stars ?), there are many more.
5) they don't move their heads to eat ice cream. True. We must be a very gravitationally aware country, risk averse to any drips. Here they blissfully lick aware turning their ice creams willynilly to greet their tounges. Oh the decedent risk!
6) another risk they enjoy is the 'tram dash', this involves darting out abut 12 ft into a busy road to get on the tram which has stopped in the middle of the street. I think the fun of this would wear pretty thin, pretty quickly.

Since I have turned my phone off (wonderful) I can't upload photos on to here until I get home and put the proper camera shots on here. Due to the dominance of photos of my offspring on my Instagram feed I've been challenged to take more photos of other stuff. I pretty much fail, but it's bought to my awareness the primitive divide in my mind which is the beauty of my children vrs the second rate beauty of everything else. Nature is still beautiful but it's not a patch on the joy a photo of something I grew (????) running over grass laughing, 100% happy in the moment.

Getting old

You know you are getting old when you dry your hands under a handdryer and all your skin moves away from the air current. 

Starbucks is 4!!

Starbucks is 4. As i personally feel strongly about collating evidence to prove to my kids i love them for when they start shouting at me otherwise as teenagers, i made her a cake and took pictures. This year she wanted a 'Topsy and Tim Cake' which means the same as the one they had on their show. Since they are twins and therefore are denied an indiviudal status they shared a cake with one half butterflies and one half dinosaurs (guess which side was which gender?). Here she is looking a little underwhelmed. To be fair blowing out candles is a serious job, and Happy Birthday is a very boring song.

Dear Jo....

How long will i love you? As long as the stars are above you.

It's been 17 months and i am taking hesitant steps to recognising my grief. (I think in pictures:)

I have a huge rectangular hole cut out of my sheet metal torso.
You can see through me where the hole is.
It was severed in a matter of minutes by a very large circular saw.
It hurt so much i was numbed by the pain.
I picture you climbing over the banisters, noose in hand.
I picture you calm, and at peace in your actions.
Balancing on the wrong side, silent with  fingers sweating in concentration.

how long will i love you? longer, if i can.

People say all sorts of cliche's, like time is a great healer.
But its only now that i realise that there's a gaping great hole in me.
One that i am unable to tell if it is mending or still as big as ever because i am so numb.
I long for the day i can tentatively gentle feel around the sharp jagged edges of this wound.
To hurt myself a new, feeling the hundreds of smaller details of this terrible void.
Defining the edges
Raking into the nothingness to quantify it.
Only once i have a wound can i become accustomed to it.

Only once i can define this can i move forward.

How long will i love you? forever.