Day No. 201 - The Wall

When I wake up this morning and open my eyes, the first thing I see is a wall. A very nice wall, but that doesn't change the fact that it is a wall. Some of you might be wondering what's abnormal about it. For me: EVERYTHING. Waking up in a van is the greatest thing. In the middle of nature. Before I open my eyes, I can already hear the birds. And not just cooing pigeons or terribly loud chattering parakeets like in Cologne, but a variety of songbird voices that I haven't heard in this way in Germany for a very long time. And the great thing about it is that the bird calls that greet me in the morning change depending on where I am. I can identify very few of them, and I think that's a shame. My grandfather gave me a book about birds over 40 years ago. I couldn't do anything with it back then. Today I do. These bird calls make me happy in the morning, my heart soars. 

When I open my eyes, I see nature. Pure nature. Lots of green, and if I'm particularly lucky, I see the blue of the sea. That makes me happy, it's as simple as that. The white wall this morning can be so beautiful, and our bedroom is not only very large at 30 square meters, it is also beautifully and lovingly furnished. But it can't replace nature. And that brings me to the point that all the money in the world doesn't make you happy. You can't buy happiness. But more on that later. For me, happiness means the freedom to do what I want. And happiness is just waking up next to me.

I can't understand the cuddly campers who stand close together on the pitches. When they look out of the window, all they see is white, namely the campers to the right and left of them. I don't like standing on campsites. Not only do I wake up hearing things that I don't want to hear, but I'm often woken up by them. When the neighbors talk about things that don't interest me at all. If I'm lucky, they're ranting in a language I don't understand. 

For me, happiness also means closeness. Waking up in the morning next to my best husband in the world is the greatest thing. To feel his closeness. And to feel that closeness when I'm making coffee. Because in the van, I just fold up the kitchen cover and have the kitchen right next to the bed. It's a luxury for me that I don't have to get up to make coffee. Our apartment here is so big that sometimes I don't even know where Marc is. That can't happen to me in the van. 

Today I'm starting our house clearance. Our lodgers have already taken a few things with them when they moved out, such as a chest of drawers, the office chair, the bedspread and a few little things. It's easy for me to part with these things, my heart isn't in them. Today I'm going to start posting things on Ebay classifieds. I'm curious to see how it goes. Now in the C crisis. When it feels like everyone is at home and has time to clear out and sell things. Or is it an opportunity for us that many stores are closed? And so more people are buying second-hand? Then the crisis would also be a good thing. Because I've never liked the throwaway mentality. Although we used to be addicted to it too, purely because of a lack of time. It's always been easier to buy new things. 

By the way: Do you see something in the photos that arouses your interest? Please get in touch, almost everything is for sale. The kitchen is already sold, but the bed, lamps, coffee machine, table & chairs and the infinite number of little things are also for sale

Marc: I would just like to point out that I am not for sale. - I always hear the word crisis here, as an old salesman I am opportunity-oriented. I believe that alongside all the terrible things, this "crisis" is a great opportunity. We just have to survive. But many things that I was ridiculed for in the past are now being implemented. How often have I discussed relying more on online conferences instead of driving around for hours unnecessarily? Working from home & co. - Suddenly things are possible that have otherwise been rejected time and time again. When the crisis is over, the world will be a different place.