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After thinking about this for the last month and trying to weigh up my situation I've decided to suspend my blog for a while.

I've started work and there is a confidentiality agreement in place so I suddenly feel tongue-tied in writing about my life.

Especially as I spend 8 hours of it every day in the office.

There are also some things in my personal life that are just not going as well as they could be right now.

I'm finding it difficult to give enough attention to everything at home, work, kids and sport and get these 'personal life wrinkles' ironed out without trying to keep up my blog as well.

Then there's that little eating disorder which is becoming more of a problem that I would like to believe.

I want to concentrate on my real writing, and my real life for a while.

Especially the real life part.

So, anyway, cutting a long story short, thanks for reading with me!

It's been fun!

Maybe we'll do it again sometime.

Autumn is beautiful this year.

We had a week of sunlight and dappled shadow, and leaves blowing and magical moments.

Now it's over.

There's something about the grey though.

The colours stand out more and the promise of the sky exploding into sunlight seems to lie just behind the clouds.

I feel uncharacteristically contemplative today.

It's my last week with my kids at home, it's autumn vacation. I'm going to stop being a stay-at-home mommy and become... I don't know? Something else? A militant feminist working mom?

The world is turning.

Ever feel as though you stand on a cross-roads and you can take any one of four directions, but once you make the choice your path is irrevocably chosen and you can't step off it?

Looking back at my life there have been several instances where I've stood at the junction of the rest of my life.

Previously I'd dived into my choices and thought 'I've done this. I can't go back'.

Now I stand, rather hesitantly, with one foot on one path, the other on another and I wonder which way to go.

I'd like to ask for directions, but like most things the more information you have the more confusing the choices become.

Ooh, how deep of me! I'll stop now.

Go and look at my photos of our day in the Bos on Monday.

Go on, go!

Literally, figuratively and actually.

Work starts in a week.

I have been running to get my wardrobe complete before I start work.

Chichi little blouses, suit jackets, trousers, tights, skirts, shoes, boots, accessories.

Running to shop, shopping on the run.

Then I've been running to get all my stuff done in my last week of freedom.

Running to meet my friends, running to have lunch, running to have a good time while I still can.

Running to take the kids to try out their daycare. Running to get them to their sports while I still can.

Run run run.

Running to keep up with school, exams, PTA, friends, enjoying my life.

Run girl run!

Then I've been running to run. Running because I can. Running because my heel is healed and I can push my limits.

5 km yesterday and OH MY GOD!

It felt good. It feels good.

This little baby helps me run.

Thanks to my guys at home, this was a great gift!

An interesting and far more logically put together piece of work than I could produce, but then we all write differently, right?

Here are mine:

1. I write like I talk.

Fast, non-stop, no editing, as much information as possible in as short a time as possible.

Lots of mixed metaphor, grammatical errors, languages interspersed with each other.

This is an advantage and a disadvantage.

Sometimes it comes easily and I write and it just flows.

Other times it seems to stagnate and I start to edit myself and I lose my voice.

2. I write what I know.

I think this ties into the 'stranger than fiction' bit of Charlotte's five strengths.

People are endlessly fascinating. All you have to do is listen to them and you have a wealth of material. The things that happen to some people are things you wouldn't believe.

Even if they happened in the movies where no-one ever goes to the toilet and even Tom Cruise is tall.

3. I have little patience with my work.

I'm not going to edit, reedit, mess around, fiddle, arse endlessly with the thing because it's not right.

For me that path leads to certain doom and chewing of pencils, throwing of things at the computer and a lifetime spent playing around on MSN instead of actually working.

So, to steal a phrase, I just do it.

4. On paper/screen I am free to be.

I am more superficial in the flesh. Always smiling, charming, helping, being a A type personality.

On paper I can be more bitchy, more emotional, less 'verkrampt'.

I've been seeing a therapist and only now, in session 4, does she get to see the 'real' me.

You, on the other hand are more unfortunate.

This is the real me!

5. I can set a scene.

Not as well as some other people and sometimes points 1 & 2 above get in the way. I mean, how do you describe a steamy sex scene in the front seat of a car when you haven't actually done that in the last 15 years?

How do you pull up every lusty thought you ever had and encapsulate it into the front seat of a car and then describe it without needing a cold shower?

How do you describe a murder?

How do you pull all the murderous thoughts you ever had about the little old lady in your building who is consistently rude to you and never holds the lift when you come running with armfuls of groceries?

And then, you need to apply those thoughts and feelings to a imaginary character in a book you're writing where you still don't know what the characters are actually doing.

How do you do this?

With difficulty.

I suppose this is where imagination comes into play.

Hopefully not every author goes out and experiences everything they write about otherwise the world would be rampant with serial killers, rapists, murderers, illicit love affairs, sordid breakups ...

Wait a minute.

Isn't it?

It's all those writers going wild and getting material for their work!

Charlotte, I knew it was you! All that gadding about in Berlin!

Other writers I'd like to ask to play along, because I know you guys are out there doing naughty things so you can write about them:

Mr Smooth-talking Penis at Citizen of the Month
Ms Blonde but Bright
Mr Invading Holland

Oh, and PS. I got the job. I start 22 october. I would love love love to talk about it here, but Church and State must be kept apart. I would not like to be dooced before actually even starting work.

Oh, and PPS. It's autumn and it's pretty outside! Go outside. Come on, go. Yes you. GO!

Oh, and last PPS. I have no photos for this post. So go look at my Blogfather's* gorgeous photos of his trip to Wales.

* My Blogfather because he hosts this impressive load of bullshit on his server.

It was exciting, but nerve-wracking. At least it was all in English.

Nothing like stumbling around nervously in a different language to the one you're accustomed to.

I'm not sure if I was so nervous purely because it's been such a long time since I worked.

A seven year gap in the CV seems like such a long long time.

While I was talking with the HR Manager it occurred to me, rather suddenly, that interviewing for a job is really a lot like dating.

You don't need to send a photo when you apply for a job but you have to send a CV saying who you are and what you do, and how great you are. Then there's the motivation.

The 'Why do you want to work here?' motivation.

Or in dating terms, 'Why do you want me?' motivation.

The 'there are thousands of other people out there, why me?'

And to which the simple answer usually is,

'Because you're available right now and I'm available right now.'

It has very little to do with the the best fit for the job, more to do with serendipity.

Sound a bit like Internet dating, anyone?

Then you get the first interview, which is kind of like the 'let's have coffee and get to know each other a bit' date.

So you have the interview and you think 'ok, this could work, this sounds nice.'

But do you want to live with them every day for the next 3 - 5 years?

Maybe it's just a fling and you're going to be the person who tries out in the position and after a month says 'no way, Jose!' and leaves?

Are they going to interview you, then leave you with that morning-after feeling when they don't call you for a week.

Then they call you after a week and you have a second interview. And you talk money and working hours and logistics and you think it's all great.

But a week later you get a little form letter in the mail saying,

'We regret that you were not successful in your application for xxx position.'

Which is a bit like the email after the second date that says,

'Sorry, it's not you. It's me'.

Which everyone knows isn't true.

But no-one's going to come out and say,

'Sorry dude, I didn't like you at all and please fuck off and never call me again.'

What if you speed up your interview process too much and you end up divulging too much at the first interview?

What if the one party is needier than the other?

They need you, you need them, but who needs who more?

Desperation tends to be a turnoff.

Both in dating and in job-seeking.

How far can you go with making plans?

Like when you get introduced to everyone in the prospective workplace and you have to say,

'Well, it will be nice to see you again if I get the job.'

Should you be saying,

'When I get the job?'

I suppose interviewing could be easier because the rejection if it doesn't work out is not quite as personal as it is in a dating situation.

I suppose I should trust my Viva horoscope which for last week said,

'Neem de initiatief.'

This week says

'zie het leven als het is: een serie momentopnamen'.

So which snapshot is mine this week?

The one where I get the rejection-slip or the one where I get the green card?

For me, my little problem is made up of a combination of low self-esteem and control issues. A killer combination.

I'll leave control for another time, and talk for now about how self-esteem issues affect me.

Low self-esteem = lack of boundaries = impulsiveness = shit happens = low self-esteem.

And so it goes on, and on, and on.

So how do you fix it?

When you reach the 'shit happens' stage is probably the best time.

When you're smarting and thinking 'how could I be so frikking stupid?'

The key seems to be to sit back and reflect and think, 'so what happened to get me to this point?'

Then look back and trace the pathway to how you ended up in your current situation step by step.

Maybe write it down on a piece of paper and try to work through how you felt at each step on the way.

Without falling victim to the 'everyone hates me, and I want to die' or 'I'm not good enough' or 'it's because I'm not pretty/nice/clever enough' traps which you've unwittingly laid for yourself on the way.

And that's the hard part.

I've been reading a lot of Christine Kane's work again recently.

A former eating disorder sufferer she has great advice on how to work yourself back into a position of self-trust and how to actually listen to yourself.

Now let's see if I can listen to my own advice and beat this thing right back to where it belongs.

A few months ago Karen from Bake My Day joined the Daring Bakers and I watched, awed and speechless as she created wonderful item after wonderful item.

Some of them were spectacular, like the strawberry mirror cake.

Others just seemed a whole heap of fun, like her bagels.

I asked if I could have an introduction and this is my first month as a Daring Baker.

Good thing too, because the baking bug has definitely left this building.

I've been on such a strict weight loss regime that unless food comes to me disguised as a vegetable I have no inclination to do anything with it.

Cue the Daring Bakers. Cue my family's sighs of relief. Cue Brad's colleagues giving sighs of relief too.

Baked goods again!

This month's challenge was Peter Reinhardt's Cinnamon Buns or Sticky Buns hosted by Pip in the City.

I could have made either recipe, but being a sucker for cinnamon buns I chose to make them twice (plus the cinnamon ones are lower calorie, but let's not go there).

The first time I made them I followed the recipe exactly except that I wasn't sure about whether my yeast was good or not, so I proved the yeast with the water and a teaspoon of the sugar.

I also needed to use a whole lot more flour than the recipe called for. My processor stalled twice while I was making the first batch because the mixture was so moist. I ended up adding a full cup of flour extra.

The dough took a very long time to rise.

I ended up leaving it overnight, and then shaped the buns the next morning.

This first run was useful as a trial too, because I started rolling from the short side of the rolled out rectangle. Which would have made about four very fat buns. I had to do some maneouvering to get them to squish out a bit. I got 12 large buns in my first round, around 85g each (baked weight).

The lemon gave them a wonderful flavour and the texture was excellent.

The second time I tried them you would think I would have had the sense to reduce the quantity of water, but nooooo, doofus here. I ended up having to add another cup of flour to the second batch too, but this time I did it early enough that my machine didn't stall. I don't know why the recipe says to knead for 15 minutes. I only ever knead for five minutes or so at the max, or until the dough is silky. I think when you make enough bread you start to recognise that 'silky' stage and then you can turn the machine off.

I added the yeast with the dry ingredients this time and it made little difference to the rising time, but if I'd done the first ones by adding the yeast with the dry ingredients I would have worried that the yeast wouldn't proof.

So I'm glad I did it the old fashioned way first.

The shaping of the buns is pretty simple. I place them closely on the baking sheet so that they join together. I like the soft sides where they tear apart.

The second time I made them a bit smaller and ended up with 20 small buns, and I left hubby to take them out of the oven while I took the boys to school. As a result they overbrowned a bit which is why I have no photos!

The fondant icing was gorgeous and I'll definitely be using it again. Wonderfully simple, yet very tasty.

Things I like from this recipe:

• Add lemon to the dough
• Use milk powder and water instead of having to warm up milk - far easier!
• The milk based fondant icing.

All in all the recipe was a success, but I prefer my normal cinnamon bun recipe.

Old dogs and new tricks, etc etc.

I really enjoyed my first Daring Baker challenge and I'm looking forward to many many more!

Thanks girls for letting me join!

And I've been playing with the webcam, but that's another story. I think I missed the first wave of MSN. Myspace etc.

So now I'm on Facebook and MSN and I connected the camera.

I just can't stop playing with the damn thing! So fun to chat to people and see their faces!

And speaking of chatting to people and seeing their faces...

Last week I met Francine from Stukje bij Beetje in person! for lunch! at La Place at the V&D and we had a fantastic, fantastic time.

She says I'm just the same in real life as on my blog, which I take as a great compliment! And right back at you Francine!

We clicked immediately and we could have sat there for hours chatting about all kinds of things!

Francine took some very flattering photos of me and wrote such cute things.

You all have to go read all about it here.

Now, back to my webcam...

Writing about things that are sensitive, or which fill me deeply with shame are difficult.

What's all this fuss about a word I hear you say?

In Southern Africa, the word 'kaffir', used as an ethnic slur has ghastly connotations to anyone who grew up post-independence.

Just the idea of typing the word makes me feel uncomfortable.

Yet people of a generation older then me throw the word around with such abandon?

I suppose it works as a sort of de-humanising tool.

If you can de-humanise a group of people then you no longer see them as individuals and once you've passed that boundary you can do and think anything you like about them.

People are strange, aren't they?

This evening Brad and I went to a special preview concert of Beth Hart's new album, 37 days.

Wow! What an amazing experience.

I read up on Beth before the concert and after watching her tonight, I was thinking 'wow, she does all that without stimulants of any kind?!'

She gave an amazing performance, walking in the audience in the encore. Truly fantastic.

The concert was at P60, an event location here in Amstelveen which was suprisingly intimate. I expected the venue to be larger, but it was just perfect. We were about six feet from the stage.

Absolutely amazing.

My favourite songs from her new album are At the Bottom and As Good as it gets. Take a look here and you can listen to them.

From the older albums, LA Song (of course), Learning to Live and Leave the Light On.

I'm a bit deaf now and very smokey, but wow, that was so worth it.

Next concert: Moke at P60 on 27 October!

Wanna come?

Five years ago today we arrived, rather shell-shocked, in the Netherlands.

Our flight was from Heathrow to Schiphol, which meant waking up at an unearthly hour to take a taxi to be there in time for our flight. Luckily airport security wasn't the same as it is now or we would have had to get up in the middle of the night!

Only Brad had ever been to the Netherlands before.

We had a two and a half year old toddler, a 4-week old baby and a whole lot of baggage.

Back at home in Chelmsford we left our house to be packed up by the movers and our lovely neighbours, Ian and Gilly. (Hi, Gill!)

It was one of the most shockingly difficult things I've ever done.

The naivete with which we leapt into life in a non-English speaking country is, in retrospect, alarming.

So here we are.

Five years down the line and our lives are completely different.

Not better or worse, just different.

Well, more precisely, the evolution of my music tastes.

I was a child of the 1970s so I grew up with those compilation albums with the barebreasted and starry nippled women on them. Other Southern Africans will remember, Radio Jacaranda and 702 anyone? Too lazy to go and look for examples, but if you were there you'll remember.

My mom and dad had a prediliction for country singers, who begged me not to take my love to town, crooned that my beauty was beyond compare, with flaming locks of auburn hair, and whined about four hungry children and a crop in the field ....

My aunt was single in the late 70s so she was singing to a different tune... her name should have been Mandy. Abba was telling her to be a Dancing Queen and thanking her for the Music. Later, her boyfriend was a rocker, and she was climbing his Stairway to Heaven and Learning to Fly.

In the mid-80s when I was a teenager I was Thriller'd, Radio Ga-ga'd, Woken up before I Go-Go'd and wanted to be Like a Virgin in my fingerless gloves ...

In the early 90s I was practising my charms on unsuspecting boys in clubs wearing a Black Velvet dress.

Please Forgive Me was the soundtrack when I lost my virginity to my friend's boyfriend.

Fast forward a few years for me to identify strongly with Papa Don't Preach, but that's another story.

It was the Summer of '69.

It Must Have Been Love played when it was all over.

A new boyfriend and Friday, I'm in Love! Later on Nothing Compared to Him.

I Lost My Religion along with everyone else and I really wanted to be a Shiny Happy Person.

A few years passed and then everything was Ironic. I would have done anything for love (but I wouldn't do that). I worshipped for a while at the Wonderwall.

When I met Brad, Hootie was singing I Only Wanna Be with You and when I got divorced from my ex he wailed 'Let her cry'.

Falling in Love was indeed Hard on the Knees.

I tried Not to Look Back in Anger. I wondered what a Champagne Supernova was. I tried to be One of Us.

Republica had me Ready to Go. Later on I really wanted to be an American Woman. A lot of the time I felt like a Zombie. I wanted to believe I was Gorgeous.

Now I'm Hung Up, crushing on Mr Brightside, I don't feel like dancing, I'm Crazy and I'd like to be telling it like it is to Mr President.

I could slip into a Plain White T, I'd like to Waltz in LA and I don't want to Fall to Pieces. I worry that I might Bend and Break, I want to be Grace Kelly, I wonder if this is As Good as it Gets, wish I had a Crystal Ball, and then I decide to Relax and Take it Easy.

*Oh, you want plain simple instructions? Listen to the Plain White Ts, The Killers, Snow Patrol, Keane, Mika, Moke and Beth Hart and you have my current playlist.

Well, it was nice while it lasted.

Things I've learnt in the last few months:

1. I can speak Dutch, but I will always be 'dat buitenlandse vrouw'.
2. It's never clever to work for friends.
3. One should not be a doormat.
4. Saying 'yes' when you mean 'no' is a bit dumb.
5. If you didn't get paid in the first few weeks the situation is unlikely to magically reverse itself.
6. It must be very miserable living on minimum wage.

Things I am looking forward to enjoying again:

1. Shopping and lunching with friends!
2. Working out at the gym.
3. Drinking endless cups of coffee in restaurants.
4. Working in my garden.
5. Being more available at school (ie. pestering the teachers).
6. Cleaning my house.
7. Cooking and baking.
8. Taking photos.
9. Blogging!

So here's to more of me and less of the flowershop.

PS. That up there is my new favourite song.

So a week elapsed and the comments stopped which means... ta da! Time to announce who gets to win a book!

Of course, to make it more suspenseful and because I have to make you read all the crap stuff I spout out here regularly I'm going to tell you all about the new book I'm reading.

I picked this one up last week when I visited the local bookstore to ask them about supporting our school for Kinderboekenweek. I would send you to read about last year's Kinderboekenweek here on the blog but I can't find the link. Anyway, I'm co-ordinating a second-hand booksale for the school and we need some support material, posters, etc, which is why I was at the bookshop!

So... to cut a long story short. I felt silly going and asking for stuff and not buying anything and Anna Quindlen's Rise and Shine managed to find its way into my hand, then my bankcard came out of my wallet and paid for the book and we came home to live happily ever after together.

Very happily in fact, now that I've started reading it.

The story is interesting, (you can go read the synopsis yourself) but what really makes it hum is Quindlen's characterisations and observations.

Like this one,

Her first day on the air I watched with Leo and Evan, the three of us eating oatmeal. And when Meghan said, 'This is Meghan Fitzmaurice. Rise and shine!' I burst into tears. It sounded just as it had sounded when we were children, when the eight-year-old Meghan would slide from her twin bed to wake her four-year-old sister with exactly that greeting. It sounded so promising, as if this would be the day: the day to ride a bike without training wheels, to make it through the afternoon without a stained blouse and a scolding, to persuade the girl next door to like me. To meet a man. To make a mint. To prosper. To love. To live fearlessly.

How evocative is that?

I hear a little voice saying something somewhere ....

It's saying 'Why is she going on and on and on?' 'But what about the draw?'

Ok, here goes, democratically chosen by printing the names and then picking them out of a bowl:

Jane - Tractors is all yours!

Ms BlondebutBright - You get Ray Kluun! (Not him personally, you understand, but his book. If I could offer him personally I would, but alas, that falls outside my skillset.)

and

Mary Emanuelson - You get Second Honeymoon!

So, if you could all kindly email me your addresses I can post your books to you. (Email address in the sidebar.)

One thing I was wondering when I ran this competition is where my male readers are? Are there any male readers? Do I need to offer more lascivious prizes to get male readers? Any male readers? Anywhere? Anyone? Bueller, Bueller?

Just wondering.

The second thing I was wondering is whether I should change my blog name.

Originally 'Stitched in Holland' was chosen as a title because I did a lot of sewing and secondly because I felt 'hemmed in' in Holland. However, I've outgrown both of those phases of my life and the name no longer suits. All that's left is me.

I'm thinking of starting a new blog and importing some of the content from here. Mostly the writing and family life.And calling it quite simply, www.ashleighmeier.com.

What do you think?