My sister's visit
Last week my little sister visited me again here in Amsterdam. I met her at Schipol late in the evening, and we immediately began catching up on what each other was getting up to in 2019.
When we were younger we used to fight a lot, but as we grew up something changed. Now, we’re great friends who always have each other’s back. She’s 15, so in the British school system that means her GCSE’s have begun—naturally this has been stressing her out a bit, so a short break visiting me was a welcome pause on all the study and homework. It also gave me a great excuse to procrastinate on some of the reading due for my class.
We spent the next couple of days drawing, painting, and eating stroopwaffles
Whenever family members come and visit me, I try to play the guide a little. Last year I strolled round the Rijksmuseum with my grandparents as they crooned over Rembrandts and Rubens, Veldes and Vermeers. With my parents I walked up and down the Bloemenmarkt, de 9 Straatjes and Damrak. Both were lovely visits, and it was great to see these parts of the city that I rarely visit in my day-to-day routes between work, home, and the VU.
However, my sisters visit was by far the most fun. She has little interest in the Dutch Masters or the old canal streets of the main city. When we got to my room from the airport, she was horrified to see that I hadn’t added any more decorations since her last visit. That would simply not do, she told me.
We spent the next couple of days drawing, painting, and eating stroopwaffles by the handful. I now have two more paintings to cover my white walls, transforming my living area from a room with asylum-décor to a space that looks as if someone might actually live in it. She has left me with a sketchbook full of future ideas, although I have to admit I probably won’t start on those until her next visit. Some things just aren’t the as fun without my sister, the best teammate I could have ever asked for.