OK I know I've written this before,

but today was the last beach day of this year.

The water was a bit fresh,

but the weather was heavenly 

and there were only a handful of people on the beach...

Bliss.

 

Fisher boat

 

The water was incredibly clear. I know it's difficult with the sun and the waves, but can you see the little fish swimming around my feet?

 

Clara 

Today the Lion King had a visit at the cardiologist.

They go way back, 

the doctor basically saved his life almost 15 years ago,

and although they don't know much about each other's personal life,

I can easily imagine them being friends in 'real' life.

 

So they spoke about his heart,

of course,

but also about his operation last year and the problems he's having now.

Right before  we left,

he asked: 

"Doctor, you always ask your patients how they're doing, but allow me to ask you, 

how are YOU doing?"

The initial answer of the doctor was the usual one,

the one we all have ready on the tip of our tongue,

the standard answer for standard questions.

"Tutto bene, I'm doing fine..."

Then he interrupted himself,

looked my husband in the eye,

and said

"To be honest, I've just had a birthmark removed. They did a biopsy and it was a melanoma."

And it was weird but also beautiful 

and we really f*cking need to take the time to listen to each other more.

So that our first thought isn't always that noone cares how we are anyway.

 

Clara 

 This morning in the family chat, when his daughter asked what we'd all be doing today,

he answered 'depression and moodiness just like every day'

and both his daughters  laughed.

 

How should parents tell their adult children that they're not ok?

Or shouldn't they tell them anything?

 

When is it time for children to not only take, 

but also to give?

Or shouldn't they ever? 

 Anyway.

What do you do with someone who can't walk?

You take him for an aperitivo. 

 

If it doesn't work as an antidepressant for him,

it does for me.

Clara 

 The Lion King has got new painkillers.
They contain oxycodone, an opioid.

When he takes it, 
he repeats that he loves me soooo much
and that the has the prettiest wife in the whole world 
at least 20 times a day.

So now I can't decide
whether he has to take it forever
or whether I will.
Or the both of us.

Forever happy
and high as a kite.

clara

 Today was such a beautiful day. 

It was a day like in a movie,

a day like on social media,

but real, so real.

 

So the Lion King's father was the oldest of 9 children. After WWII, the situation in Naples was dire, and 3 of them emigrated to the US, 3 emigrated to France to work in the coal mines and 3 remained.

Now when the Lion King was little, the siblings from France came on holidays to Naples during summer and he played with his French cousins.

But as it goes, after a couple of years, they stopped coming and they lost contact.

3 years ago, a couple of them came to Naples and we met, me being the only one who spoke both French and Italian.

This week they stay at Ercolano, close to the Vesuvio, for a week and they invited us for lunch.

Of course we brought a good deal of food as well and we all sat at a long table with lots of simple but good food, they'd all learned a little Italian, there were 11 of them and 9 of us and quickly communication problems faded and it was just perfect...

The location was beautiful and there even was a pool and at one point we were all just in the pool together ...

 

A beautiful, beautiful day...

 

Clara 

 Since I was very young (younger than 10), my mother used to tell me and my sister that we were fat.

My sister being my sister, she reacted and during puberty flirted with anorexia for a little while. She still is very thin.

Me being me... Well you know how I've become ... 

Obese, is how they call it now instead of fat.

 

But as my school is organising a reunion next month,

a former classmate sent me this picture.

We were 17. Dressed like farmers, I don't remember why.

I am in the upper right, with the short blonde girl hanging on my arm,

firmly believing I was fat.

Feeling fat. 

Because my mother said I was.

 

How things could have been different...

Or not.

We'll never know. 

 

 

Clara 

 I posted this on LinkedIn (in Dutch) and already regret it, because it's way too long.
But anyways ...

‘If you want good quality, you have to pay more.’

and

‘We want to increase productivity.’

We’ve heard those ‒ seemingly unrelated ‒ sentences so often that we don’t even give them a second thought any more. They have become ‘truths’. Dogmas.

But are they really?

Take, for example, a cupboard made by a carpenter and one that you’ve assembled yourself – usually after a fair bit of swearing and with the odd screw too many or too few.

Or take a meal you’ve prepared at home with fresh, organic produce, and then a ready-made dish from the supermarket that you just need to heat up.

Or take (it was bound to come up) a translation made by a translator and then one that’s been spit out by AI in record time and then blindly copied.

I think we will all agree.

The products in the second category are much cheaper and less time-consuming than those in the first.

And yet, on the face of it, they seem just as good, stylish or tasty as the first.

But if you look a bit closer, feel them, taste or read them, you’ll notice they’re almost clones. They’re all exactly the same cupboards (with the odd screw too many or too few), the same meals and, yes… the same texts.

Sure, they make a good first impression, but as soon as you move on with your day, you've forgotten about them.

And yes, there are a few ‘flaws’ here and there. They're not quite as sturdy, healthy or appealing as ‘the real deal’.

That’s why you pay more for good quality.

Right?

I'm not so sure.

I’m no expert, but I doubt that hand-carved cupboards and home-cooked meals are actually that much sturdier or better than they were fifty years ago.

And if my translations – because I am a bit of an expert in that field – are better than they were ten years ago, that’s thanks to experience, not because I was less capable back then.

And proportionally speaking, prices haven’t risen that much either. Handmade furniture used to cost a small fortune; you’d buy it when you got married and it was meant to last a lifetime.

My own rates have remained the same for years and, in some cases, have even been reduced.

So now tell me, does good quality cost more?

No.

Poor quality costs less.

Because when you maximise the productivity of any product or service, you end up with mass production of lower quality, and prices decrease.

So what if we put it this way from now on?

No longer “Well, you pay more for good quality.”

but

“Well, you pay less for poor quality.”

Wouldn’t that change our perception?

And wouldn’t we then, every now and then,

opt for quality after all?

clara