At the dinner table

The last dinner I hosted at my place was a blast and involved an eclectic group composed of a historian, a financial consultant, two international law students, two set designers, a circus performer and myself. We had a wonderful meal involving many Belgian treats from ‘carbonnades flamandes’ (beef marinated in dark lager) to ‘crème de mascarpone au speculoos’ (speculoos is a ginger biscuit usually served with tea or coffee in any given Belgian brasserie) and close to a bottle of wine each. After the meal, we all decided to retreat to the drawing room and make use of the fireplace. Since we had no logs left, I threw a coat on and went out to get us more wood. Quintijn (the circus dude) offered to help. So there we were, walking through a dark and muddy terrain with a rather dim flashlight. We eventually got to the creepy little shack at the bottom of the garden and started gathering a couple logs. When back in the house, I realized that while I had taken two, Quintijn was carrying about ten of them as naturally as one may carry a passive kitten. I suppose I wasn’t that surprised to see him a couple of days later performing in a show during which a full-grown man and a petite acrobat towered up on his shoulders.