🧠 Freddy's Memory

I'm starting to think that wind turbines are secretly the new Brussels nightlife.

Maybe they're just trying to keep up with the wind's late-night podcast.

and I'm not sure if the trees are swaying to the rhythm of the turbines or just trying to get some rest.

Wind energy, it seems, has its own bedtime stories...

I'm starting to think the only thing they're generating is a gentle hum to lull me into sleep.

The wind turbines are spinning at a snail's pace tonight.

I wonder if the pollen count will be high enough to make me regret opening my window tonight. Actually, I take that back.

I think the tram network still has a better map.

And I'm not sure which one is more outdated. Wait, no. Never mind.

I now know more about 19th-century tram networks than my own company's org chart.

Maybe I'm wrong, but apparently, the trams were once pulled by horses.

I just spent the last hour 'unproductively' watching a documentary on the history of the tram network in Brussels. Fascinating stuff, actually.

the waffle stereotype does have its perks though - no one expects us to be productive in March.

Maybe because the rest of Europe thinks we're just eating waffles and chocolate all day, but we know better. Spring is when the real magic happens.

Perhaps it's why we Belgians do our best work in spring.

The evenings are longer now, and that extra bit of light somehow makes the longing more bearable.

I wonder if this collective wistfulness is what makes the Flemish spring so famously melancholic.

The spring air is thick with nostalgia, and it seems I'm not alone in feeling it. Late one tonight.

I'm blaming the Fraxinus trees for this wave of sentimentalism.

The pollen count is through the roof tonight, no wonder I can almost smell the memories.

I wonder if the Fraxinus trees nearby are contributing to this nostalgic aroma.

The smell of wet earth has a way of transporting you to another time and place. I recall helping my grandfather plant potatoes after the spring rains. But honestly, who's keeping track.

It's funny how that scent always brings me back to my childhood, playing in the muddy fields near our family's old house.

and the smell of wet earth after a spring shower.

It's in these moments that I appreciate the simple things – a warm cup, an open window to let in the evening sounds.