We already have quite a few registrations for the reunion on October 10. But we still miss the reactions of a number of our cousins. Register @ hildaenrudy@schoonveld.nl. I have already had a mini reunion with two cousins.

Every few years I go sailing on the IJsselmeer with my cousin Wilma (van Martje). It has now become a tradition. She lives in Nagele, the boat is in Enkhuizen, and we usually leave from Urk. Always cozy, always wind in the hair and stories on the deck.

A while ago, Wilma suggested to take cousin Truusje (of Ynskje) along. Last Sunday, July the plan became a reality.

However, there was a small hitch: the weather forecast. Little wind, chance of rain. Not ideal for a trip across the Wadden Sea or Lake Lauwersmeer, where you need at least a bit of a breeze to make progress. But we weren’t discouraged.

Instead, it turned into a surprisingly beautiful journey along the Reitdiep. From Garnwerd, we sailed through the open landscape of the Hogeland region, then set course straight through the city of Groningen. Yes, right through the middle of it.

Along places we all know, but had never seen from the water. Bridge after bridge — seventeen in total. Bridges that we used to wait impatiently for, grumbling because ‘another boat had to go through’. This time we were that boat. And honest? It felt delicious.

With coffee, chit-chat, and the occasional rain shower, it turned into a journey full of memories and new stories. A day when everything went a little differently than planned – and all the more fun because of it.

The ladies were brought to Garnwerd by cousin Mendelt. The harbor master of Garnwerd is the neighbor across the street of Mendelt and Truusje on the Coendersweg. After coffee we left with Truusje at the helm.

Sometimes you almost forget what a dog was made for—until you’re with Utah. Our energetic Australian shepherd lives up to her name and origin, especially when she is face to face with… sheep.

During our trip, a group of curious sheep walked on the dike. Utah priched her ears, suddenly radiating a natural focus and barking the sheep together. As if an invisible command was flowing through her veins.

The sheep, not used to such a determined bark, stared at her: moved, surprised, perhaps even a little impressed. And us? We could only smile. Because although Utah has never worked on a farm for a day, the shepherd instinct turns out to be indelibly present.

Sometimes a dog doesn’t have to learn anything to know what to do. Utah reminds us: some things are just in your blood.