Wednesday, July 20


To be well and prepared for la FĂȘte Nationale de la Belgique tomorrow, I spent over two hours in the hairdressers' yesterday and will be exfoliating my rather stressed backside tonight using Deep Heat. The fragrance will charm the socks off the Belgians to whom I am going to introduce none other than the Twat, who, despite having lived in this country for almost four years has never watched the Belgian Trooping of the Colour, so as to speak.

There will be no horses, just a really boring Army Parade and a couple of airplanes. The 21 July is well known for the drache Nationale ('National downpour' ..?) which normally happens during the parade which is then followed by sunshine and plenty of fun in the park opposite the Palace.

And yet I am called upon to perform my task chez Big Blogger who obviously has absolutely no idea of how the Belgians function. If a Thursday is a holiday, then so is the Friday, when I'm off girlie-shopping with one of my offspring who may well buy me my departing outfit for next week as that is where I think I am heading. Fear not, Tatiana has great dress-sense and my departure will probably be made in some costume aimed at a sixteen year-old.

But I'll put up a fight, boys, oh yes. Always fear the Brussel Sprout.


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