Left shoes

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Sometimes you just have to seize an opportunity. In this case, we came across a pair of football boots for Alan. They were a little too big, but he was so excited about them that we decided to buy them anyway. The idea was that he’d grow into them in a few years.

That time had finally arrived. It was time to take the boots out of the box and let Alan shine on the pitch. Alan eagerly opened the box and… Huh, what’s this? A small mistake: the box contained two left boots. After two years, returning them isn’t exactly easy, but we decided to give it a try anyway.

At the store, they were still able to find the receipt from two years ago, but the boots had long since been discontinued and the warranty/return period had expired quite some time ago. The easiest solution I can think of is to hope there’s another family out there with a similar problem. A family that also bought football boots a couple of years ago for a child to grow into and, just like us, only recently discovered that the box contained two of the same shoe. Except in their case, not two left boots, but two right boots.

If that family exists, let us know! We’d be happy to trade one of our shoes for one of yours.

August ’26

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The month started with a major cleanup of my photo archive. The family was in Torrevieja, enjoying the beach and the pool, so after work I could fully focus on this big task. And it worked out: I went from an extreme overload of photos to a clean, curated subset. In the end it cost me almost one evening per year, but it was absolutely worth it.

15 years! A milestone for Alex, and of course we celebrated it. He’s growing up so fast, incredibly intelligent, and athletic. We can only be proud of him.

We wrapped up the holiday period beautifully with the whole family by spending a vacation in Ireland. We started in Dublin, and travelled all around the country.

After Ireland we went home and I still had one free week, after which the daily routing, once again, took over.

Ireland: Highs and lows

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It was a nice trip. A bit stressfull, and a lot of driving around, but overall we enjoyed the trip.

The highs/top outings during our trip were:

The lows (for me):

  • Belfast. I have to be honest, I struggled with this city, mainly because of the atmosphere created by the murals. Many of the tours focus on wall paintings about past conflicts, and the figures portrayed were involved in very violent events. Seeing them displayed so prominently, almost celebrated, and called ‘volunteers‘ felt unreal to me. In my mind, ‘volunteer‘ was being used as a synonym for people who committed acts I find deeply troubling. When I told my friends that my first step to improve the city would be to paint over all those walls, they couldn’t understand me at all.
    The strange thing is that the people were incredibly friendly. It was the only place where someone shared his whole life story with me while we waited for the bus, and the only place where asking for directions led a woman to start in Welsh and then switch instantly to English when she saw my face.
    Very warm people, but for me, the city itself felt heavy and depressing.
  • Very long rides, long times in the car. Lots of days we spend between 2 and 6 hours in the car. A lot and quite stressfull.
  • Spanish timetables. Eating late, like in Spain, is not the Irish way. Finding a place to eat after 22:00 was not a nice experience, and we ended up lots of times eating fastfood or chinese.
  • Last day. Stress. Wake up early, drive 3.5 hours to the airport to return the car, take a bus to the airport, check in, and take the plane. No breakfast, no lunch, only coffee, and after arriving take the bus home and walk for 15 minutes with 4 huge bags. Not the best way to end the holiday, thats for sure.

Ireland: 1 mistake

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A waterfall, then a castle, and then a small surprise. The cottage we had booked turned out to be 200 km further away. Oof. Well, these things happen. We arrived late, but with a small BBQ it still turned into a nice evening.

The next morning we headed out early, towards a little beach. But soon the route started to look suspiciously familiar… The beach was only 5 km from the castle we had visited the day before. So another 200 km of driving. And after the beach, plus a few other sights in the area, another 200 km back.

In the end we clocked 600 km (and also 6 hours) that we could easily have avoided if I hadn’t trusted the AI so blindly. Unfortunately, I only realized that when it was already too late.

Ireland: The plan

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We’re exploring Ireland for our family vacation. From the 6th to the 15th of August we plan to discover a new culture. We are going with some friends, and in total we will be a party of eight persons, so fun is guaranteed. Ana and Nuria make a very nice planning for the trip. I did notice we spend quite some time driving around, but they have thought about it, so it should be okay.
This is the plan that was devised. When we return I’ll post a travel evaluation.

Seeing and experiencing plenty of places is of course an important part of the holiday. So far, the plan looks perfect for discovering many different sides of Ireland. I also have my own wishes for this trip, and that’s to get a little taste of Irish life and I don’t think that’s difficult at all. Starting the day with a nice big breakfast, and ending it with a pint in the pub. That feels like the right way to experience Ireland.

Less is more – Digital hoarder

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Since the previous century I have been saving my digital photos. My first camera was the Kodak DC220, a bulky 1‑megapixel device with an enormous battery consumption. After that came a Canon Digital Elph, a Canon Ixus, and eventually my current Canon Powershot G7X. Probably my last dedicated camera, because these days I take almost all my photos with my phone. I always have it with me, so taking a photo is much easier but it also means I think less about it, and a lot of digital clutter ends up in the mix.

A few times a year I add the photos from my camera and phone to my archive. That archive started small: maybe 30 or 40 photos per year. But taking photos has become so easy, and sharing or receiving photos so normal, that I now have years with more than 10,000 photos. Far too many, of course. Sometimes I even feel like a kind of digital hoarder: someone who fills their house with everything they can get their hands on, but digitally. Every little screenshot, every failed photo, every duplicate shot ends up somewhere in a folder. It piles up without me noticing, to the point where the archive feels more like a digital storage unit than a collection of memories. By deliberately pruning, I make the archive usable again, a collection I can browse without feeling overwhelmed, where the photos that remain actually say something about that year and about my/our life. That, to me, is the essence of selecting an archive.

That’s why I introduced a clear rule: about 100 photos per year. And for big events, a maximum of 100 photos per event. The focus is on photos with family and friends, supplemented with a few landscapes or nature shots that truly add something. It’s the same logic as my paper albums. I do look at those from time to time, precisely because they only contain the photos that matter.

100 photos per year, 26 years, plus a few major events. Still a substantial collection, but finally one I can view, cherish, and maintain. An archive that works as an archive again, and not as a digital basement full of forgotten files. A way to preserve memories without drowning in the sheer amount.

July ’26 – Rodriguez

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This month I was the ‘Rodriguez’. In Spain the statement carries a mix of humor, resignation, and a tiny wink of freedom. It’s the classic situation where someone stays behind working while the rest of the family goes on vacation. After taking the kids to the Netherlands, I brought them to their mother for some weeks at the beach in Torrevieja. After a weekend I returned home to fulfill my obligations, and so I ended up de Rodriguez.

As the Rodriguez, there’s the routine of going to work every day. After that, it’s keeping the house in order, cleaning, cooking, washing clothes, drying, folding and storing, tidying up, take care of the pets and everything else that comes along. Ana even tried to give me an extra task: painting the entire house. Fortunately, I managed to diplomatically avoid that one. And if I do happen to find a bit of scarce free time, it usually goes into cleaning the car, dusting the shelves, reorganizing the kids’ toys, cleaning the windows, and so on.

With all these tasks, it’s unlikely I’ll have any time left for myself, but if it does happen, I might still squeeze in a bit of enjoyment: a movie, a series, some music, playing around with my laptop, some exercise, a walk in the woods, working on my game, experimenting with my blog, an outing with the guys, a bit of shopping, building a LEGO set… The small freedoms of a Rodriguez, hidden between the responsibilities.

Spain world champion

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Two stars!Today was the final of the World Cup: Spain versus Argentina. Football normally doesn’t interest me much, but still I found myself on the couch, watching the screen with a beer in hand.

And honestly: it was a pretty fascinating match. Spain won 1–0, but it could easily have been 15–0. They spent almost the entire game on Argentina’s side of the field — passing, edging closer to the goal, every attack a small chance. You could see the frustration building in the Argentinians; the game became more physical, until a red card send one of the Argentinos home. Only in extra time did the ball finally fall right, and then it was over quickly. There was some pushing and complaining and Trump popped up on screen for a moment, and that was the whole story.
Celebration!
I watched alone at home. I have to work again tomorrow, so after the final whistle I headed to bed. For Ana and the kids it was a completely different story: the celebration exploded there. After the victory they walked to the beach with a big group of children, celebrating, laughing, jumping into the water for a moment. A spontaneous summer evening celebration you only get when everyone is swept up in the same wave of euphoria.

Dutch roots

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Once a year I try to unwind a bit in the Netherlands. The kids already know exactly what we usually do. Hanging around at home with grandma Nel. Playing Settlers of Catan (with our own rules). Visiting family and friends, and mostly just relaxing and getting a small taste of what my life used to be like. The lake, the beach, the village, a trip to Leiden, and not much more.

Ana prefers a different kind of holiday, where activities and experiences follow each other at high speed. I’m increasingly choosing convenience. Getting an ice cream. Finding a geocache in the town. A little trip to buy some eel. A walk along the beach with a kroket to finish it off. Wonderful.

Still, I try to plan one fun activity every year. Mudflat hiking, Volendam, Efteling, Rotterdam. This year I want to take a trip to Limburg. The province where my godparents lived, and where I spent many holidays myself. Visiting the Three‑Country Point, descending into a cave, and enjoying a good slice of vlaai. This year we’ll see. I ended up cancelling the trip to Limburg because the family in the Netherlands described the situation as ‘scorchingly hot’, and that’s not the best moment to go to Limburg.