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On Being Boring

I moved from London to Brussels with my husband nearly 10 years ago. When I told people we were moving, the news was greeted with bemusement: why did we want to move to a city that was possibly the most boring place on earth? Ten years later and I can honestly say that I've had more fun here than I ever did living in London. It might not be the most exciting city in the world but it is a fantastic place to live. It is full of hidden treasures that you probably never get to see as a tourist: wonderful shops, amazing food, great museums and galleries, beautiful architecture, a forest (yes, a whole forest), and so much more... And if that doesn't convince you, well, get on a train and you could be in Paris, Amsterdam, Cologne or, yes, London in no more than a couple of hours... Which other city can you say that about?

Snapshots from the other side

I wasn’t going to post these pictures on here. I don’t like the mess on the floor in the first picture (even though it’s closer to real life than a clean floor would be). And for the photos on the bottom row, I had been hoping for a picture with them both smiling out at me from the teepee. But then Charlie accidentally whacked Amélie in the face so, instead of happy perfection, you get… well… that look from Amélie. And ignorant bliss from Charlie who has no clue he has just nearly removed the nose from his sister’s face. So no, I wasn’t going to post these here. But then I realised I loved them even more than like this than if they’d come out how I’d have wanted them to. This is them. The real them. Crazy, sweet, angry, happy, calm, crazy (did I say that already?), the same, and so very different all at once. Just them: perfectly imperfect.

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