Many moons ago, I was working in a place that now seems far to me. I was actually ordering payments and timetables for some of our clients. I was feeling young and important. I was feeling the sun and the rain on sundays. I was away from chaos on a Sunday. I remember many of the conversations that I had. Some Sundays were good and busy, others well, less people and more paperwork. More preparation for the coming week. Sometimes coffee at the end of the shift. Up for the last bus, tired, sometimes bored. But I remember the wall street journal on Sundays. I remember the valley and the sky, and the beautiful fruit trees. Listening to piano and opera music. Reading the Dutch and Danish books that I could barely understand even with a dictionary to translate. I remember Jens Peter visiting. I remember, yes I do after all these years and many events. How much was impregnated in my soul are those memories. Really you do not work when what you love. And then you get tired and what to try something new, because that is life and because sometimes we just need to move to feel alive. And things happen and we move and we evolve or stay the say but in a different place. The piano and opera music, the valley and the coffee, and the wall street journal on those beautifil Sundays.
CR.
