Mother As the Giving Tree: Reflections on Conditional Acceptance

Posted on by Astrid

Hi everyone. Last Monday, I attended an online meeting for adults who spent time in the NICU as infants. It touched me on many levels. One thing that was mentioned was the fact that most NICU parents go through their own emotional process, which then is passed on somehow to their child in the NICU and beyond. For example, many parents back in my day and before didn’t know whether their baby would survive, so they didn’t attach to their babies as they normally would have.

I was also reminded of something I read in the book The Emotionally Absent Mother. In it, motherhood is compared to the giving tree in Shel Sinverstein’s writing. I don’t think I’ve ever read this piece, but its point is that the tree keeps on giving and giving and expects nothing in return.

I have been thinking about my parents’ attitude to me as a multiply-disabled person. When I suffered a brain bleed in the NICU, my father questioned my neonatologist about my quality of life and what they were doing to me. “We’re keeping her alive,” the doctor bluntly replied. My father has always been adamant to me that he wouldn’t have wanted me if I’d had an intellectual disability, because “you can’t talk with those”.

I have always felt the pressure of conditional acceptance. I’ve shared this before, but when I was in Kindergarten or first grade, it was already made clear to me that, at age eighteen, i’d leave the house and go to university. I tell myself every parent has expectations and dreams for their child. This may be so, but most parents don’t abandon their children when these children don’t meet their expectations and certainly not when it’s inability, not unwillingness, that drives these children not to fulfill their parents’ dreams. Then again, my parents say it’s indeed unwillingness on my part.

I still question myself on this. Am I really unable to live on my own and go to university? My wife says yes, I am unable. Sometimes though, I wish it were within my power to make my parents be on my side. Then again, the boy in Shel Silverstein’s writing didn’t have to do anything to make the tree support him either.

I’m linking up with #WWWhimsy. I was also inspired to write this post when I saw Esther’s writing prompt for this week, which is “giving”.

#WeekendCoffeeShare (December 13, 2025)

Posted on by Astrid

Hi everyone. I’m joining #WeekendCoffeeShare again. I’m starting this post at 5:35PM as my iPhone is upgrading to iOS 26. I’ll probably finish this post after my evening coffee at 7PM. By the look of it, the iPhone update might not even have been completed by then, as my Internet is incredibly slow. Anyway, let’s have a drink and let’s catch up.

If we were having coffee, first I’d talk about the weather. Early in the week, the daytime highs were like 14°C and we had a little rain. No more rain today or yesterday and the temps have dropped to 10°C. That’s still warm for this time of year.

If we were having coffee, then I’d share that I’m still going strong meeting my movement goals on my Apple Watch and it’s now finally decided to actually add days to my streak. I broke my streak record a few days ago. The previous record was 309 days and it was set in June of 2023. However, of course I cheated with this one, as I paused my rings while sick last September.

If we were having coffee, then I’d tell you this week is a mixed bag. Early in the week, I found out that, as of next month, all self-employed temp workers will be let go. That’s understandable, as a self-employed person actually doing the same things as regular employees, is considered tax evasion on the part of the employer (in this case the care agency). The Tax Service had originally planned on handing out fines for this starting this year, but due to the problems in care and other sectors, it postponed this a year. I had known that this was going to happen for years, but due to the care agency’s careless attitude, hadn’t been sure that the care agency was actually going to follow through this time.

On Monday, one of the regular staff here, who is responsible for planning, said it’s indeed true and that this will likely lead to more staffing issues and possible cuts to our care. Other staff have been reassuring that my one-on-one hours have already been approved until late 2026 and I need not worry about cuts to my one-on-one. All this makes me quite worried regardless, as I’m just now learning to actually fill my one-on-one with enjoyable or meaningful activities.

If we were having coffee, then I’d talk about these meaningful activities. On Monday, I finished the Christmas decorations I crafted last week. No photo of the individual pieces, sorry, as my staff hung them on the branch that we use to decorate for the seasons before I remembered to snap a picture. I do, however, have a few pictures of the entire scene.


As a side note, my staff also borrowed some of my clay cutters for creating more decorations. These, I believe she is now finishing and will be putting up soon.

If we were having coffee, next I’d tell you that, yesterday, I visited the next town’s market again. I love going to this market, which is quiet enough that I don’t get overloaded yet there are enough stalls to buy all of the things I’d like to buy. I had fried shrimp at the fish stand. Well, one of two fish stands, actually. It turned out I usually go to the other one and like that one better, but I was with a staff who’d never been to this market. I also bought olives, mixed nuts and candy.

If we were having coffee, lastly I’d share that I finally got my mother-in-law’s access to my records at the care agency revoked. I had originally asked that she’d be given access because, for some stupid reason, the powers-that-be wouldn’t give me access. Their reasoning was that it’d lead to too much distress, something I now realize isn’t grounds enough for denying a patient access to their own records. However, due to this decision, for many years, nobody had access to my records, so the staff could basically write down whatever they liked. That’s why eventually I asked my mother-in-law be given access. Not that she ever reads my records or that I trust her to respond appropriately if she does. Now nobody has access again, but I’m soon going to persuade the behavior specialist and manager to give me access after all.

Reflections on Being a Thrown Away Golden Child

Posted on by Astrid

I’ve been struggling with memories lately, as well as with the role I played in my family. I was for the most part the golden child. For those not aware of what this means, this is the child in a family in which one or both parents are narcissists or otherwise emotionally immature, who ends up being the parents’ favorite.

My parents often half-jokingly (though it wasn’t funny) said that my younger sister was oh so nicely average. More like invisible, I’d say.

I, on the other hand, was exceptional in both positive and negative ways. I was a genius when doing calendar calculation, which for your information is a common savant skill in people with developmental disabilities. By contrast, I was threatened with being thrown away into institutional care and called all kinds of insults for people with mental illness when I was acting less than excellent. I at one point thought of printing out the table of contents for the DSM so that my parents at least knew the correct terms for what they were calling me.

Then, when I was admitted to the psychiatric hospital in 2007, my parents more or less actually threw me away. No, that’s not even entirely true: they threatened to abandon me when I announced that I was taking a second gap year in order to work on independence skills in 2006 and only came back into my life after the independence training home promised to prepare me for university and independent living. Which they couldn’t.

I struggle with both the fact that I was thrown away and the fact that I was my parents’ favorite before that. After all, it adds an extra layer of shame to my life: the layer of “if only…”. If only I hadn’t taken that second gap year… If only I hadn’t consented to being admitted to the psychiatric hospital… If only I hadn’t applied for long-term care… would I still be the hero… in my parents’ fantasy tale? In other words, isn’t it my choice to have fallen off my parents’ pedestal?

I don’t know how I feel about the idea that it might’ve somehow been my choice to be thrown away. On the one hand, I feel it makes me responsible for not having a “normal” relationship with my parents. On the other hand though, I know how many golden children turn out and that’s not pretty. Many end up repeating their parents’ toxic patterns with partners or children.

I’m forever grateful for being childfree for this reason (and others), as just today I had a memory of shoving my and my wife’s then cat Barry out of the bed. I feel forever guilty about this and the very thought of doing this to a child, makes me sick.

Remembering this and other things makes me realize I’m glad I didn’t stay in the golden child role. If I had, I might as well have ended up in prison… or should have.

#WeekendCoffeeShare (December 6, 2025)

Posted on by Astrid

Hi everyone. Yesterday, I had tons of ideas on my mind on what to blog about but no motivation to actually write. Today, it’s the opposite. I’m joining in with #WeekendCoffeeShare even though I think I don’t have a lot to share today. I, as usual, had my last cup of coffee for the day about half an hour ago and am going to take a break from writing this post to have my soft drink and chips. Let’s have a drink and let’s catch up.

If we were having coffee, first I’d talk about the weather. For most of the week, it was chilly but not rainy with daytime temps around 7°C. Today, the daytime high was 10°C but it’s been raining all day.

If we were having coffee, I’d tell you that I was pretty active for most of the week, both by walking and one time by cycling to the next town just to have a purpose for cycling. I didn’t need any groceries and we only ended up having a snack, but at least we weren’t aimlessly cycling around.

Today though, I spent the entire day indoors and still need to dance or whatever to reach my movement goal on my Apple Watch. My streak for whatever reason is still stuck on 33 days even though I’m moving each day and it’s been stuck on 33 days for a month or so.

If we were having coffee, then I’d tell you that I had many plans over the past week but haven’t accomplished a lot. On Monday and Tuesday, I did create some Christmas decorations out of polymer clay. Yesterday, I attempted to bake cookies. They turned out okay but not great and the process was frustrating. Nonetheless, it was better than lying in bed or staring into space, which is what I’ve been doing a lot lately.

If we were having coffee, I’d cheat a little with the coffee share being about the past week, since there was none last week. I’d share about the meeting I had with the behavior specialist early last week. It went well. First of all, like I said, the “one chance” rule about orienting new staff got ditched. My assigned staff, who is in training to become my side of the home’s support coordinator now too, E-mailed me the new orienting plan yesterday and it looks pretty good.

We also discussed my day schedule. In the future, I’ll hopefully get more set activities. In preparation for this, my assigned staff created instruction cards for some of my activities, so that I can hopefully do more activities regardless of which staff is assigned to me. She E-mailed these to me too and I gave some feedback.

If we were having coffee, lastly I’d share that I’ve been having lots of memories lately. And by “memories” I don’t mean good ones. Yesterday, for example, I remembered the team meeting for my current home I attended in the summer of 2023. One of the staff, when I told them that I can’t prepare my own lunch, replied: “But you lived independently, right?”. I immediately got defensive, because yes, I technically lived independently, but I shouldn’t have. Yesterday when I was talking about this with my wife, whom I’d first met when living on my own in 2007, she told me more about how bad it actually was. Until a few years ago, I believed that, while I couldn’t cope, this was mostly a mental thing. In other words, I was falling apart mentally but could really care for myself if I hadn’t been so scared. Well, no.

It is sad to realize that part of the reason why I need so much care is lack of training in childhood, adolescence and to a lesser degree early adulthood. I’m still struggling with my parents’ reasoning that they couldn’t have taught me because I was too strong-willed and just didn’t want to learn. It may’ve been true that I didn’t understand why I had to learn something that caused me frustration, but then isn’t it the parents’ job to guide the child through their frustration? I’m honestly still struggling with this.

The Wednesday Hodgepodge (December 3, 2025)

Posted on by Astrid

Hi everyone. I badly want to write but feel horribly uninspired. For whatever reason, I feel drawn to blog hops in which I haven’t participated in forever, like the Wednesday Hodgepodge. I haven’t participated in forever because I’m not a Christian and don’t want to elicit judgmental comments from fellow participants. I like the questions though and used to love the community spirit. This is a double-edged sword, unfortunately, in that I feel like I cannot fully be myself in Christian-centric communities. However, I can be myself on here and nobody is required to read or comment on my posts. With no further ado, here are this week’s questions.

1. What does it mean to have the “holiday spirit”? On a scale of 1-10 how is yours this year? (10=off the charts, 1=still looking for it)
I was immediately reminded of Tom Lehrer’s Christmas song when I saw this question.


That being said, I’m also reminded of the holiday spirit as referring to the spirit of community and connection to family and friends. In this respect, my holiday spirit is at a 2 at best. I, after all, hardly have any contact with my family and as of this year we’re not celebrating Christmas at my in-laws’ either. Thankfully, I will be going to our house to celebrate the holidays with my wife. However, since neither of us are religious, I don’t think it matters much that we’re being together specifically for Christmas. At least it’s a way to avoid having to spend time with our parents.

2. What’s your favorite character from a (December) holiday-themed movie, book, or TV special? Tell us why. 
I don’t think I’ve ever watched holiday-themed movies. When I was a kid, my parents used to watch musicals on TV on Boxing Day, like My Fair Lady, The Sound of Music, etc.

The only Christmassy book I remember reading is Murder on Christmas Eve by Ann Sutton. I read it last year, when I was more into the holidays than I am now. It’s a mystery set in 1920s England. Dodo Dorchester, the main character, is quite interesting.

3. Do you like gingerbread? Are gingerbread houses part of your holiday tradition?
I don’t care for gingerbread, but I don’t hate it either. No gingerbread houses here. However, yesterday, I did craft a gingerbread man out of polymer clay.

4. Much of our vocabulary is determined by where we live or where we grew up. What say you- sprinkles or jimmies? lightning bugs or fireflies? soda or pop? sneakers, trainers, or tennis shoes? sub, hoagie, grinder, or hero? freeway, highway, or motorway? frosting or icing? sauce or gravy?
I am a non-native English speaker, so I use the words that I know best: sprinkles; fireflies; soda (or coke); all three for the shoes but mostly sneakers; no idea what the next couple words have to do with each other; highway most of the time; both frosting and icing; sauce for pasta and gravy for meat/potatoes.

5. Share a favorite holiday memory from your childhood.
This is not Christmas-related, but since St. Nicholas is still not over yet (it’s December 5), I’ll share a memory of that. I’ve probably shared it a few times before: the last year that I still believed in St. Nick, my father recorded himself playing St. Nick’s servant Pete claiming to be stuck in the chimney. Not that we even had a chimney at that house, but what did I know? The next year, my father played the recording for me outside of the holiday season to make me stop believing for sure.

6. Insert your own random thought here.
Despite not being in the holiday spirit, I did create a few Christmas decorations out of polymer clay over the past few days. Tomorrow or on Friday, I’m also going to bake St. Nicholas-themed cookies.

November 2025 In My Kitchen

Posted on by Astrid

Hi everyone. I’m joining In My Kitchen once again. I wasn’t too active in the kitchen this past month, but would love to share the things I did regardless. I keep hoping the next month will be better. I may’ve finally convinced the behavior specialist that I need a more activity-based day schedule, so that I can do a cooking or baking activity more regularly.

First, let me share the one dinner I cooked for myself and my fellow residents this month, cooked on November 17. It was a curry with chicken, broccoli, onions, rice and topped with cashews. I loved it.

I had planned to cook another rice and chicken dish with the same staff last Monday, but she’s on sick leave. I found out a few days in advance, so planned to cook the dish with another staff, but she ended up calling in sick too and I didn’t find out until half an hour before her shift was supposed to start. She was supposed to bring the groceries, so it wasn’t like I could cook the meal with the staff who ended up doing my activity. This is one more reason for set activities: that way I can order or buy the needed groceries on time.

I did, thankfully, do a few baking activities. First, on November 1, I made Bastogne brulée. This is like crème brulée but with crumbled Bastogne biscuits mixed in. The recipe didn’t call for a brulée burner, instead instructing me to put the dessert under the grill of the oven for a few minutes. I think the dessert wasn’t a total fail and it looked similar to the photos in the recipe, but I wouldn’t make it again. At least not like this.

I ran the photos I post here through my screen reader’s image description component to make sure I have them posted correctly and guess what? It claims the dessert looks moldy. Yuck!

On November 16, my staff spontaneously offered to help me bake a sponge cake. We did use a store-bought mixture. When my wife saw it, she wondered what made it look green. She looked it up and it was simply blue and yellow food colorant. Not green food colorant, which made me wonder whether green colorants are even food-safe. At least, when I still made my own lip balms, I knew that all colors of mica that I could buy at the soaping supplies site were safe except for the green ones.



Unfortunately, the staff baking the sponge cake with me, did break my hand mixer by inserting the wrong tools into it. She said she’s going to buy me a new one.

Those were the main cooking and baking activities I did in November. I also created overnight oats a few times. Last Thursday, I also decided to whip up a vegetable smoothie. This was the first time for me creating a smoothie that mainly includes vegetables rather than fruits. I used broccoli, spinach, carrots and lime. The recipe called for a green pepper, but I misread it and got a green bell pepper. Since those are rather bitter and the recipe was supposed to be blazing, I decided to add some chili flakes. And blazing it was! I’m not sure what I think of the smoothie. I did give some to my fellow residents too. I did feel obligated to explain to one of them, who is quite a picky eater but loves smoothies, that this one is a little different. Thankfully, he liked it though.

We had our annual St. Nicholas celebration at the home last week. I hadn’t asked for a gift from the staff (since you actually pay for it yourself), but my sister sent me some gifts. She sent me cookie cutters and several cookie mixes too.

Today, my wife and I were at Hema in Apeldoorn and I got myself a potato peeler (since somehow the last one I had got lost) and a wooden rolling pin for the cookies. The rolling pin has a Nijntje pattern engraved into it. I hope that doesn’t make the rolling pin hard to clean. I took this picture myself just yet, so apologies if it’s misaligned or unclear.

Looking back over this post, I see that, even though I cooked dinner only once, I did engage in various foodie activities over the past month.

Fear (Or Another Four-Letter F Word)

Posted on by Astrid

Fear. I’ve used this word as a starting point for my writings many times. The idea comes from Mari L. McCarthy’s journaling prompts. The idea is to pick a four-letter F word and write about it or use it as a prompt. Well, I’m doing that now, but I doubt I’m actually going to write about fear. I honestly don’t know what to write at this point and am not feeling anything in particular. That is, I guess I “should” be feeling something, but I don’t know what. Alexithymia. That’s what I believe this is called. Any emotional state for me is “good”, “bad” or “neutral” like right now. I don’t ever feel totally relaxed I believe. There’s always some level of stress or anxiety or fear in my body or mind.

My movement therapist tries to tell me that my body needs to get used to the feeling of being relaxed, because due to my early childhood trauma, it never learned to trust this feeling. That makes some sense, in that I almost always feel like I’m on high alert even when I’m half asleep. Is that even possible? And if so, isn’t it just normal? Do I even know what “normal” is, being that I’m autistic and otherwise neurodivergent, multiply-disabled and a trauma survivor? I doubt it. But if I’ve lived my life like this for nearly four decades, is there any way of changing it? I hope there is, because this feeling of always being on high alert is exhausting.

This is another freewrite I originally typed up in Google Keep, then finished here.

I Don’t Owe Anyone a Grateful Heart

Posted on by Astrid

Hi all. Today’s prompt for Reena’s Xploration Challenge is quite fitting. Reena asks us to ponder the paradox of gratitude and resistance.

Sometimes, by being grateful, we can bring about change. I am reminded of a story in one of the Chicken Soup for the Soul books in which nurses on one floor were irritated with another floor’s nurses for their constant negativity. Instead of fueling the conflict by becoming negative themselves, the nurses wrote a lengthy gratitude letter to their colleagues. I am not sure whether this was exactly what the story was about, but this was at least the message I took from it. The fact that the one group of nurses focused on the positive rather than giving in to the other group’s toxicity, turned the situation around for the better.

At other times though, particularly when there’s a power difference between two people or groups of people, gratitude becomes passive resignation. In this case, while it can be helpful in the short term to the oppressed person to keep a positive outlook, if the oppressor takes gratitude as acceptance, in the long run nothing will change.

I will give an example from my own life. Regular readers of my blog know that I’ve been accused of having a negative attitude by many people in positions of power, such as my care staff and treatment providers in various care settings. An example is being told I ought to be happy that anybody wants to work here at all. Well, no. While it’d be easier for me in the short term if I could just accept the umpteenth random stranger for my one-on-one care, in the long run it’d mean I’d always get assigned the random temp worker because regular staff would rather support the others and chill out with other regular staff while they can. Besides, even if it’d cost me less effort to resign than it costs me to rebel, I don’t owe my staff a positive attitude. If there’s anyone for whose sake I should have a grateful attitude, it’s myself.

It doesn’t mean I don’t struggle with this whole idea. I feel intense guilt whenever a staff throws some variation of “be happy anyone wants to work here” at me. I am also constantly reminded in my head of my assigned staff at the intensive support home, who was disappointed in me for never having a perfect day even when they’d followed my day schedule completely and had always assigned me regular staff. Which, for the record, never happened.

I, for clarity’s sake, don’t think violent resistance is the answer. When I have a meltdown over some rule I disagree with, being aggressive will always end in me being restrained. However, there’s a whole world between aggression and passivity. And sometimes, unfortunately, the people in positions of power are so caught up in their reality of being the ones to decide, that they (either willfully or not) ignore my less obvious attempts at resistance.

For example, last week I was trying to resist the “one chance” rule about orienting new staff. I tried going along with what the staff wanted, but this only led to further abuses of the rule. I tried talking sense into the staff, but this didn’t work either. Finally, on Saturday, I had the most massive meltdown. I am not proud of my behavior at all. In fact, I really wish I could’ve solved the issue without being aggressive, if for no other reason, then because the staff are far stronger than me and I ended up being restrained. In the end, I thankfully finally got a meeting with the behavior specialist on Monday and the rule got ditched. Now all I can hope for is that my main message, that I have to consent to every individual rule or agreement affecting me unless the behavior specialist uses the Care and Force Act, got through to everyone.

Brave Choices

Posted on by Astrid

A few weeks ago, I was in the mood for writing but didn’t know what about. I downloaded Google Keep on both my PC and iPhone and just started writing based on a prompt I saw on the See Jane Write website. I had never heard of this site. The prompts for the month of November were all two words long. The prompt I used was “brave choices”.

I doubt I’ve ever made a brave choice. Most of my major life choices were made out of fear or avoidance rather than courage. Either that or they were really other people’s choices I didn’t rebel against, or not well enough.

For example, my choice to live independently, wasn’t really my choice. I was pressured by my parents into saying this was my goal after completing independence training and, once everyone except for my parents agreed it wasn’t a realistic outcome, the pressure had increased to the point of being unavoidable.

Similarly, my choice to live with my wife, wasn’t really my choice either. She wanted it, but hadn’t realized all the complcating factors, like my substantial care needs. She had good intentions, mind you, thinking our love would conquer anything. It didn’t. Thankfully, I was able to make the choice to go into the care facility in Raalte before our relationship suffered irreparable damage.

If there’s one choice I made in my life that could be considered brave, it was this choice. My parents and former professionals would likely say this choice was made out of fear too. They might have been right. Maybe, if I’d been truly brave, I’d have been able to organize my own care whilst living with my wife. Then again, now that we live separately, neither of us wants to live together ever again.

I still wonder whether I could improve my life if I didn’t make decisions out of fear or avoidance anymore. I mean, the reason I rarely try out new skills of independence, is fear, namely the fear that my staff will always expect me to possess an ability I’ve shown once, as well as other related or even unrelated abilities. This fear isn’t unfounded, but it’s holding me back more than it should.

#WeekendCoffeeShare (November 15, 2025)

Posted on by Astrid

Hi everyone. I’m joining #WeekendCoffeeShare again today. I’ve just had my last cup of coffee for the day. We didn’t have large biscuits that we are usually allowed to have on weekends, so I had a mini Mars candy bar. Let’s have a drink and let’s catch up.

If we were having coffee, first I’d talk about the weather. During most of the week, we’ve had unusually mild temperatures for November. We had some rain too, but not a huge amount. Today, the daytime temperature didn’t get above 9°C, which I consider cold but is actually normal for this time of year. According to my wife, the weather forecast predicted 27mm of rain today. We did get rain indeed, but not nearly that amount.

If we were having coffee, then I’d share that I did meet my movement goal on my Apple Watch each day this week. However, I’m pretty sure my 90-day average will soon be lower than my 365-day average, as I just barely met my goal most of these days and it’s been this way for a month or so already. My movement streak is somehow still stuck on 33 days.

If we were having coffee, then I’d update you all on my struggle re orienting new staff. The new staff, last week when being properly introduced to me finally, said this would be the actual (re)start of her orienting. Not so. She did get one more chance to be oriented to my morning routine, but not another to the activity time slot. I feel this was unfair, as during her original orientation to the activity, we only went for a walk because I, not having properly been introduced to her, didn’t feel like being vulnerable with her with a more difficult activity, such as polymer clay.

On Tuesday, this staff was assigned to me for my morning routine, but this one was different than the one she’d been oriented to. She asked me a ton of questions even though I’d told her during our introductions not to do this. Then, on Thursday, she got assigned to me for my activity. I was pretty angry about this, but several staff including the new one herself claimed she’d had her chance to be oriented and I just had to deal with it. I feel this is the world turned upside down, giving me responsibility for the success or lack thereof of her orientation. One staff went so far as to tell me that because I have one-on-one, staff need less orienting to me. In all honesty, I think the opposite is true, because when you’re supporting the group, you can always fall back onto a coworker. This same staff also said, when I said that they don’t expect my fellow residents to explain their routines to new staff, that I’m very different from the other clients and have a totally different diagnosis so not to compare myself. That triggered me to no end, because not only do I get told this nonsense in intellectual disability services, but also in psychiatric settings. And what I mean by nonsense is the assumption that I, because of my diagnosis, can deal with whatever the staff throw at me and just choose not to, while other people can’t help their behavior. I mean, of course I have an at least average IQ, but I am not in the care system for the fun of it.

Thankfully, it looks like my support coordinator is not in full agreement with the one chance rule at least when it applies to regular staff. Too bad the damage has already been done with this particular staff.

If we were having coffee, then I’d share that, on Wednesday, it was my wife’s birthday. I took a ParaTransit taxi to our house and we had lunch together, then chilled out and got pizza takeout. I gave my wife a handmade necklace with a skull pendant.

If we were having coffee, lastly I’d tell you that we had a dance party at the home yesterday. This time, I was too stressed to play DJ myself, but I did suggest a few songs to the staff.