Horlogeforum lezen, tja

En dat om 1:15… ik kan beter gaan slapen…

Dat jij met je camera kunt omgaan heb je wel bewezen en dat je je verveelt nu ook:)
Waarom ga je niet je horloges poetsen?

pdr41 Schreef:

Dat jij met je camera kunt omgaan heb je wel
bewezen en dat je je verveelt nu ook:)
Waarom ga je niet je horloges poetsen?

LOL ! dat doe ik dagelijks. :smiley:

Ik was gewoon mijn harddisk een beetje aan het cleanen toen ik dat tegen kwam. :wink:

Mijn beste Mark,

“De zin van het leven is er zin aan geven”

Dus geniet ik nu van een fantastische lunch, rijk belegt met al het goede des levens door mijn beminde vrouw, lees ik een fascinerend boek getiteld: “zoek mij in jou” geschreven door de Gentenaar Guido Stinissen, luister ik naar mijn pols en ontdek de bron van mijn passie en kijk naar de hemel en zie de zon schijnen.

Rest mij de vraag; hoe is het mogelijk dat het leven zo grootmoedig is dat het de horlogejunk zo rijkelijk beloond??

Zo en nu weer aan het echte werk!!

Orologio Signaturis Temporis.:wink:

OK, even diepzinniger dan - nogal lang, maar beslist de moeite waard om eens te lezen:

It had been some time since Jack had seen the old man. College, girls, career, and life itself got in the way. In fact, Jack moved clear across the country in pursuit of his dreams. There, in the rush of his busy life, Jack had little time to think about the past and often no time to spend with his wife and son. He was working on his future, and nothing could stop him.

Over the phone, his mother told him, “Mr. Belser died last night. The funeral is Wednesday.” Memories flashed through his mind like an old newsreel as he sat quietly remembering his childhood days.

“Jack, did you hear me?”

“Oh, sorry, Mom. Yes, I heard you. It’s been so long since I thought of him… I’m sorry, but I honestly thought he died years ago,” Jack said.

“Well, he didn’t forget you. Every time I saw him he’d ask how you were doing… He’d reminisce about the many days you spent over ‘his side of the fence’ as he put it,” Mom told him.

“I loved that old house he lived in,” Jack said.

"You know, Jack, after your father died, Mr. Belser stepped in to make sure you had a man’s influence in your life, "she said

“He’s the one who taught me carpentry,” he said. “I wouldn’t be in this business if it weren’t for him. He spent a lot of time teaching me things he thought were important… Mom, I’ll be there for the funeral,” Jack said.

As busy as he was, he kept his word. Jack caught the next flight to his hometown. Mr. Belser’s funeral was small and uneventful. He had no children of his own, and most of his relatives had passed away.

The night before he had to return home, Jack and his Mom stopped by to see the old house next door one more time.

Standing in the doorway, Jack paused for a moment. It was like crossing over into another dimension, a leap through space and time The house was exactly as he remembered. Every step held memories.
Every picture, every piece of furniture… Jack stopped suddenly.

“What’s wrong, Jack?” his Mom asked.

“The box is gone,” he said

“What box?” Mom asked.

“There was a small gold box that he kept locked on top of his desk. I must have asked him a thousand times what was inside. All he’d ever tell me was ‘the thing I value most,’” Jack said.

It was gone. Everything about the house was exactly how Jack remembered it, except for the box. He figured someone from the Belser family had taken it.

“Now I’ll never know what was so valuable to him,” Jack said. “I better get some sleep. I have an early flight home, Mom.”

It had been about two weeks since Mr. Belser died. Returning home from work one day Jack discovered a note in his mailbox. “Signature required on a package. No one at home. Please stop by the main post office within the next three days,” the note read.

Early the next day Jack retrieved the package. The small box was old and looked like it had been mailed a hundred years ago. The handwriting was difficult to read, but the return address caught his attention. “Mr. Harold Belser” it read. Jack took the box out to his car and ripped open the package. There inside was the gold box and an envelope. Jack’s hands shook as he read the note inside.

“Upon my death, please forward this box and its contents to Jack Bennett. It’s the thing I valued most in my life.” A small key was taped to the letter. His heart racing, as tears filling his eyes, Jack carefully unlocked the box. There inside he found a beautiful gold pocket watch.

Running his fingers slowly over the finely etched casing, he unlatched the cover. Inside he found these words engraved:

“Jack, Thanks for your time! -Harold Belser.”

“The thing he valued most…was…my time”

Jack held the watch for a few minutes, then called his office and cleared his appointments for the next two days. “Why?” Janet, his assistant asked.

“I need some time to spend with my son,” he said.

“Oh, by the way, Janet…thanks for your time!”

“Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take but by the moments that take our breath away,”

Think about this. You may not realize it, but it’s 100% true:

At least 2 people in this world love you so much they would die for you.

A smile from you can bring happiness to anyone, even if they don’t like you.

Every night, SOMEONE thinks about you before they go to sleep.

You mean the world to someone.

If not for you, someone may not be living.

You are special and unique.

When you make the biggest mistake ever, something good can still come from it.

Always remember the compliments you received. Forget about the rude remarks.

If you have a great friend, take the time to let them know that they are great.

Hij is prachtig, Mark.(tu)

Marc-B1 Schreef:


Ik zit naast het Horlogeforum ook weleens op Ebay hoor, zie filmpje :wink:

*geschikt voor eenieder die weleens iets op Ebay koopt