Happy Bloggiversary to us all!

It's been a year since I started posting about ideas, photos that made me think and ideas I had. And I'm still doing it. Sometimes along the way I created something that was beyond 'just words' I suppose. Those are important marks along the journey. Despite considering myself one of those lone warriors remained here from ancient times, I did find true friends. Some of them reside on the other side of the planet. Even if sometimes we have no time to visit each other I feel the interest. Both ways. The connections are there, that is.

So here and now, I would like to thank all of you for coming every now and then to the forest. I am grateful for your kind and helpful comments. I do think we can help each other, one way or another. The paths are different and so do our souls. But help and understanding reflects love. Sometimes a good listening is all we need. Let us hear each other. Let ourselves be heard.

on 20 August, again

To my kind readers! everyone here!

I am afraid I have made a mistake in my writing as people keeps telling me how the country's pagan celebration of 20 August sounds great to them.

I have clarify things: The center of the official celebration is St. Stephen and it is only partly about the new bread.

In my previous post I wanted to tell that Hungarians were not able to celebrate St. Stephen, because of him being a saint. When I was a kid, the holiday was a non-pagan, simply-atheist one about the bread as a food.

Now, we are allowed to have saints and so we celebrate them as much and to as extent as we like.

I also wanted to say that I am not really a sticker to St. Stephen, on the grounds of what he had done to the old religion.

And also, I said I'd rather participate a pagan celebration, because this is how I feel and my heart and mind tells me to follow the right thing.

I am very sorry to mislead you by my writing. I did not mean to and I am surprised, too.

on 20 August, István and the old religion

When I was a child, celebrating the 20 August revolved around the arrival of the new bread. The bread that is made of the flour of the same year's harvest. The old flour of the last year partly has worn out, and thefreshly harvested grains are available and the bread is made of those grains. In Hungary, the main grain for making bread is winter wheat. It is sown during the fall of the previous year and harvested around July. When I was a kid the day was all about bread. Now I now that I have not perceived everything, as there were other things to celebrate as well, but those things were hidden - from me, at least...

When I was a kid and my mother was a journalist, she was not allowed to post a picture of a church in the local paper she was working at. And she was considered a senior journalist. Photos of religious events were not allowed not because her boss did not like her, but because it was forbidden. Period.

Now, things have changed. In the last 15 years or so, these things have gained their normal place in society again. In the past 15 years or so, Hungarians celebrate not only the new bread, but the so-called first king of our country, called Szent István (St. Stephen), who was claimed saint by the Vatican and who is famous for 'getting the country together' and creating a Christian state 1000 years ago. It is 1110 years, to be precise.

Many, MANY people felt relieved when they had no longer to hide to celebrate something that is called saint, something that is related to church.

Many people find this feast holy and uprising. So do I, but for a different reason.

I value the gratitude of Earth towards us higher than a person, who was not really a saint - but that's just me. Many people find St. Stephen an idol and I accept that. He left a manual for his son, Imre about how to govern a country, about being faithful, keeping good manners and he had the necessary firm hand to get Hungary going at his time. He is an idol and for many people his image is useful.

Still, he was under influence of powers that did not do good for us. He, according to his writings and laws, chased and eradicated the old customs that were part of the old religion. His son died without becoming a king, but his followers held on to István's steps. Unfortunately. Anyhow, this is a delicate subject and I have to gather more information before being able to go further into it.

For me the holiday of 20 August is about celebrating Mother Earth, the harvest itself. Man works with and within nature and his efforts are honored. There is new bread as the Earth is fertile. The cycle goes on, there is life. Harvest means life, the end of a process, it means succes and also is the promise of a new sowing. Hungarians used to call wheat 'life' and the székelys *** even find (or used to find) the face of Jesus on each grain.

Photos:

We attended the 20 August in Budakeszi. It used to be a small village south-west of Budapest. Now it is part of the capital. If you see closely the photo you'll see two poles in the right. This particular celebration was about erecting a new flag. So, the scouts people carried those 64 flags of counties, too. Those are on the left. The poles were designed by Makovecz Imre and were put to place by local people. The flag is a Hungarian one, with the usual red-white-green stripes and the Holy Crown is held by guarding angels. It is a sort of a new creation, but we might need those angels to guard us...

The official flag of Hungary is NOT what Wikipedia shows. I like Wikipedia, but he's wrong with that picture. The Holy Crown is part of the flag. See?

The usual fireworks at the end of the day. This one this year was a special one as 4 people died (one of them was a 12 y-o girl) and many are still hospitalized due to a strong storm that came during the fireworks.

*** (Note by Angéla Molnos: The Székely (pronounced: Sakaille) is an ancient Hungarian people living in Transylvania for well over a thousand years. Since the partition of Hungary by the Treaty of Trianon in 1920 they live under Rumanian oppression more often than not in very harsh conditions. Their name is "sicule" in French, ( "siculo" in Italian, which very confusingly also means Sicilian!). A. Molnos found in the English dictionary "Szekler" which to her mind is neither English nor Hungarian. A. Molnos decided to coin her own English name for them a sense of the "Saclers" giving Hungarian sound of the name but with an English ending "-er". )

update

I can't believe Blogger finally let me in! Wow!
But that's just part of the truth. I was busy cooking, cutting the grass in the garden, visiting places, preparing my son for his exam 28 August (next Monday). I will post some photos to cover up my absence since 18 August.
Also, I am asking for help. If you know how can I place photos wherever I like within a post, please let me know. Up so far I have been able to post them in the upper part, but I'd prefer a more even distribution. Anyone? Thanks in advance!

Update: Thanks Bruce for helping me out with the location of photos. I will try to figure it out!

1. A Budapest gorgon over one of the buildings.
2. Scouts of mixed gender celebrate the 20th of August by displaying the flags of the ancient 64 royal counties of Hungary. More of this celebration to come soon! With more photos!



3. A delicious meal. We had to kill the cock we used to have. The neighbours complained about him having a displeasant and harsh voice. To be honest, they were absolutely right. He did have a horrid voice. But his flesh was gorgeous. The new cock is more quiet :)


to be continued...

Update after the green word: Update.

Partly, we are working on our house and partly, uhm, something else.

At the same time I heart all of your nice comments and encouragements. I do like and need them.

Until any decent entry I leave you with the picture of the River Duna (Danube, if you like). I made the photo on 5th August at Ráckeve. Damn, I wish I was here.

I think I could work out what my problem really is. I just feel in-appropriate. I feel like I'm watching a movie and I have no idea what's coming next. But now, I don't want to leave the theather for not being able to foretell/foresee the story or the ending. That I consider a sign of improvement.

I might come back to this particular post and update as things evolve.

UPDATE:

For some time, I have been reading other people's blogs. I really did not know what to feel when somebody's like 'I am feeling this and that about that.' Insert real adjectives for the this and for the first that and leave the second that as it is. When someone lets the reader into his/her soul, but not really. I don't really want to dig into someone's deepest inner secrets/fears/memories - I mean if I want to help or understand someone I need to, but probably not to the most detailed version. I am telling all this because I feel my own posts have somehow become blurred since I write in English. I tell what I feel/know true. For some grammatical and language barriers I can not ALWAYS express what I really feel. In these cases I chose not to tell anything at all. Which is probably a bad choice. Cause I think I made friends with some people over the internet and the trial of the friendship is to tell the friend if you don't get what the friend is saying and/or when said friend says it incorrectly (grammatically or stylistically speaking).

So. Next time I promise to write something more revealing about myself and the situation I'm in. This might have two consequences. 1. I find out that I have no problem at all :))) 2. You find out that I'm more boring than the town telephone calendar...

Föld (Mother Earth) - A poem by Reményik Sándor

Alkonybanyúló, fekete szántás,
Őstelevény Te, szomorú barázdás,
Ki rejted, őrzöd a jövő életet:
Szenteltessék meg Föld, a Te neved.

Szenteltessék meg a Te neved, Föld,
Akiben minden új alakot ölt.
Nyugalomba fordul a szív, az árva,
Kalászba a mag, a halott virágba.

Ki felszívod az esőt, harmatot,
S ajándokul a tengernek adod,
Ki kebled sziklabordái alatt
Fakasztasz zúgó, szent folyamokat.

Kinek szívébe vágyón ereget
Az óriásfa örök gyökeret,
Az emberfecskék fészkét aki tartod,
S tűröd, hogy megtiporják tisztes arcod.

Mint anyához a tékozló fiút,
Hozzád hoz vissza minket minden út,
Szemünk, habár a fény tengerét issza,
Lecsukódni csak hozzád kerül vissza.

Ha Ikarosnak szárnya eltörött,
Te adsz neki még álmot, örömöt,
Rögöt, munkálni arccal napkeletnek,
S göröngyöt, amit majd utána vetnek.
~~~~~~

This is a wonderful poem by Reményik Sándor. He was a Hungarian poet (1840-1941).

I would like to translate this poem to make my friends understand it, but I dare not. It is about Mother Earth. The writer pays tribute and sends his prayers to Earth, whom he adores for being capable of giving life, food, shelter, work and finally, rest for all living creatures. There are many linguistic gems in this poem so that's why I refrain from translating it into English. Maybe, later I will give it a try. But again, this poem is much harder to put into another language than the one I translated here.

went off searching

as Bruce suggested. By the way searching is something I always do. Whenever I find something I evaluate it. I never take anything granted, or without examining it's value. Should it have none, I often throw it away. Although some idleness is quite allright and is inevitably part of my life.

In search of something I went to swimming on the 14th and on the 15th of August. I enjoyed the water. I have to admit that I enjoyed it less today than I did on Monday. This feeling left me ashamed of myself, not being able to tolerate repetition. Considering the time I've been exploring myself, I tend to say that restlessness is temporary. (at least I do hope this is the case). I turn to books now, to physical activities to find something. I need to break out. I am sure there will be something along my way but the finding is not always an easy process. I might not have to try very hard. Just be peaceful with what I have. Whatever.

I was wondering recently about that something that blocks my mind. Impedes me from creative thinking, anything beyond vegetation. What a shame. Sometimes vegetation is everything you'd ever dreamed of. But yet, sometimes it is not as fulfiling and challenging.

This afternoon I went to a local pool for a bit of swimming. My legs and arms still remember* the awkward strokes I performed while pretending swimming. Going to the local pool was worth mentioning only because it was the FIRST time I visited the place.

I think I'm either (1) hiding something even from my own self or (2) in serious need of mental infusion.

I'd go with the second, because whichever the cause is, some refreshment might do wonders.

I have started reading a book on evolutional psychology but that is not the kind of book that gives me inspiration. So, I am about to find a path again.

I'm a bit confused as of the direction. I feel so many possibilities are not possible anymore and I don't feel those new ones that are about to present themselves, offering me new horizons. Somehow I've lost the old ones and have not found the new ones yet.

I think I'll have to look for signs. Have to hear the message.

---

* (read: mentioned body-parts ache)

I know it's summer but it feels like autumn
---
I hear you
but I don't understand you
I know your words convey a message
a message that I am to decipher
---
I do hear the voice
I know there is a message
in the dusk of the forest
oaks and pines do speak to me
---
come nearer
it is getting darker
the road is getting narrower
doorways are closing
let me clear my vision
---
I know I'm rising
but I feel like falling

same idea, two writings

Below are two short pieces of what my mind brought up in resonance with the idea of being a rider instead of a pasenger. (Off topic: why is it that I'd prefer writing the word with double s's? Blah. I think I'd stick to my dictionary. On again:)

I acknowledge having seen the idea itself in the web, somewhere. I don't remember where I picked it up - but as soon as I saw I knew it's true and has meaning for me. There are moments when you read/hear/see an idea and you say 'hello hand, meet forehead' aka 'why was I not clever enough to verbalize it, when it's so true and when I so agree with it?'.

This was one of those moments. So I decided to use it as an inspiration for playing with words and ideas. Read at your own delight. Criticize if you like. Do say what you think.

Just one more thing. My MILO learns alchemy. Yes, she is to become a witch. She is gifted and eager to learn. She's all about those things and she is talented. Now, what did she come up with the other day about her study material? The rider and the pasenger thingy. Yes. So that's all about random coincidence. What did you say what? Cause there's not such a thing my friend. And that's what I like about life so very much.

another name for a rose

there was a time when Evil spread its wings
over the country
the fear came closer to everyone
as Evil had no name
yet it turned you into a servant
against your will
you'd find yourself changed
blazing with fury seeking death

a rose was the sign
so as the rumour went
if a withered rose stood upright
-regardless of the time it had spent off of the bush -
in your hand you knew you were infected

there was I by a table
where a young man with a face of a groom
facing me
and the trial of the rose

black roses laid side by side
and I hesitated no more
overcome by the fear of uncertainty
I lifted the black rose and so did the man
and the rose was droopy no more
my fears squeezed me

but it was just a momentary gap of reason
why fear the inevitable I said triumphantly
and so said the man, smiling back to me
let us ride the wave I exclaimed
let us be riders said the man
and there we stood united in
facing death, evil, torture, whatever the rose might bring upon us
yet fearing no more
I abandoned being a pasenger humbly enduring pain
I became a rider

I'd rather be a rider

a dream carried me away to a hill
with a thick and wide river in the valley
and a dam at the bottom left corner of the frame
ancient trees bordered the flow of water below
the shore was full of life

upon the hill stood a palace
walls covered in glass
shining and soaked in sunshine

the palace was built into the hill
the upper part was out of sight as it was covered by soil
and the tiny top, two triangles made of glass
allowed light into the upper half

I wandered through the building, walking up and down
until I found the top two triangles
where I left the residence
only to find a small barn for goats and dogs
someone let one of those animals free

in search of that animal I found myself
on top of the hill and came to a point where
the road was gliding down
taking me below to the unknown

I feared the depth, feared falling, feared the unknown
I feared getting lower
then the valley came into my sight
with people down below
a sledge came into my way
and I saw people skiing and gliding down the roads

I recognized the place
and the fear was gone
I knew soon I'd be by the river
and there was I
- firm and reassured, being the rider of the journey
All my fears completely dissolved

the sorrow

CAUTION: political. Skip this if you loathe politics.

this is our land, given to us by God. The Carpathian basin has always been occupied by us. I do not mean today's Hungarian people of course. I mean nations, interwoven during the eras, evolving from one another, each following our ancestors, our faith. We have the right to live here. Period.

The photo depicts one of our old cities in the Southlands - but the Southlands now belong to another country. Down with Trianon.

I really wanted to forget about the present political situation when on a wedding. Really. Yet, when I stepped out of the car, my heart ached as I saw the flag over the old Hungarian building. This is the townhouse, where weddings take place. There are weddings in churches of course, but the townhouse procedure is a must. I will write another entry about my experiences in the church. Not now. This is about how I felt when I saw the flag that is NOT ours. Plus, as there was another wedding scheduled later for that day (in fact, weddings followed each other in 20-minute interwals.), there was a band for the entertainment for the next wedding group and they played a music that was NOT ours, either. The sounds of the strange music and the strange flag. I hardly could control my tears.

I felt a deep deep sorrow. Like when someone looses his/her home and is discharged from the place only to to return to find someone else there. With his/her and flag and music there.

The building is a masterpiece of Art Nouveau. Inside there are wonderful tiles and glassworks. Almost all of them depict one of the great persons of Hungary. The ceremony was held in Hungarian. The official, a woman was NOT Hungarian. I think it was a deliberate decision on behalf of the town. As we finished, another group entered the building. There was a young man among the people who held a gigantic flag of the same color as you see in the photo. My sorrow darkened.

the wedding - a culinary report

oh my friends, I think I gained some considerable weight....I think you see the reason....oh, my tummy...
So. #1:The Soup. A meat soup. a very strong one at that. #2. Beef stew with paprika, pasta and sour-cream. It's not a goulash for those who think it was, but it is similar. Yummy! #3. Various pieces of meat. Starting clockwise from the carrot (at 11 o'clock) first a poultry, stuffed with ham and cheese, roasted in breadcrumbs, sprinkled with grated cheese. Comes second (between 2 and 2 o'clock) are pork in a mushroom-y sauce. The third are some roasted chicken legs. Then comes the carrot with rice and potatoes. #3. The weeding cake. Three layers of various cool and light cake. Yes, there is a beetle on the bottom layer. The young lady does some research on Diabrotica diabrotica virgifera, aka the Western Corn Rootworm. Beside the bride there is her young man of course. #4. One of the cakes. Inside: very fine fresh and soft cheese with sponge cake, coated in egg-yolk. I was at the point of vomiting when this piece was served so I missed the taste of it.

Pálegyháza - Palics

The little village was once called Pálegyháza, later the name was changed to Palics. #1: A typical old fashioned villa. Most of the town's old houses were built during the first two decades of the 20th century. Nowadays, new hotels and apartments are often built to follow the style. #2. A seemingly abandoned old house. #3. the lake. There are hot springs too.

back home

Dear all,

I am glad that most of you who pay a visit to my little site here more or less regularly think that I am more durable and viable than I myself think.

The fear of getting stabbed, shot, physically or mentally hurt was surprisingly high in me. The justification of mentioned fear was ridiculous. The strange thing is that I, as stated in the previous post (see below) did NOT fear being dead. What I feared was the journey between meeting a hostile man (or two) and death itself. Well, it's over and I am back now.

We walked the streets and found that about 40% of the inhabitants speak Hungarian. That's not bad, yet it is disappointing, for me at least. We visited the local market, where people sell the vegetables they produce in their own garden and there the ratio of Hungarian was like 90%. Late at night, when we were walking back home to the appartment, the ratio of Hungarian was a solid 0%. Yet the streets were surprisingly full with people. Laughing, shouting and possible drunken people. We avoided being met by them, of course. Well these people were youngsters heading for the only disco of the little town, but we wanted to avoid any conflict.

During daytime we have not seen nor encountered any harm. People were like people everywhere. Sometimes, however, when a non-Hungarian crossed our way I felt malignancy in his/her eyes - but I think most of that was prejudice on my side.

I would like to believe that atrocities do NEVER occur in such a beautiful village but I am unsure.

will be away, will be back

Dear friends and all,

I am going to a wedding party tomorrow, on 5th August. I'm going with my husband and some of his colleagues. Location: Find out. There is a place somewhere in Europe that was inhabited by Hungarians for more than a thousand years. Some say we've been always here, some say it's only 1-2 thousand years, some believe the duration does not exceeds a mere 1000 years.

Later during history, more nations came. Not I am focusing on one special nation. Some of these people were invited in the late Middle-Ages, by our Kings, some were seeking new and more prosperous land instead of their original land, some came only some 80-90 years ago, as a result of an artificial colonisation. These people were brought there to decrease the ratio of the original population.

Enough said, we are heading now where Hungarians and others live in a position that is anything but harmony. Where graffittis load cities, wanting us to die, or at least, to go away. Where, if a house is broken into, the police checks the nationality of the inhabitants first. If they are Hungarians, they do nothing. So is the rumour. Heard it from someone who still lives there, and is going to get married this Saturday. I think I have to refrain from speaking my own language in public. People might get stabbed for less these days. And there's no-one to protect me. Atrocities against Hungarians are ordinary...

I am sure my fears will prove exaggerated. But I am unsure. Those people are wild. I'm not saying I don't like them or want them to leave or die. I think they are just as fine people as we are, or as anyone else is. What I would want them is to think the same way about us as I do about them. Live and let live I say.

If I am not to return than I will not return. That's all. I am scared, but if that's my fate then so shall it be. Don't worry or weep for me.

I will report on my journey on Monday (7th August), the soonest. If you guess the country, do not hesitate to say it in the comments part.

The picture is an animated gif, but it does not seem to move here. Can anyone help me out with that?

getting physical

First of all, I would like to thank you again for your kind comments on the piece I wrote a few days ago. Your words helped me a lot. I don't mean I was in a bad mood, cause I wasn't feeling blue at all.

Yesterday I spent most of my time in the garden, cutting grass with a sickle, as we own no mowing-machine (down with machines, anyway!). Other activities of the day included feeding the fowls, digging out potato, collecting flowers and watering the concrete above the new part of the house.
The pictures are captioned as :#1. Any Van Gogh would feel challenged here. These are absolutely crazy flowers. #2. Evidence of having potatoes. This is all I could dig out. I placed my 10-yo hiking shoes for size reference. My shanks are dirty, yes. #3. One of the hens and the new cock. The hen is a bald-necked Hungarian variety, the cock is said to be a Japanese one. The bareness of her neck is not clearly visible here.

possibly, a draft

sitting on the shore
you've been waiting for the tide
contemplating clouds over the sky
inhaling the beauty of their games
and you hated yourself for enjoying the scene

you've been restless
waiting for the tide

and it finally came and it took you away

you drowned, gasped for air
the waves above your head laughed at you
the abyss under your feet cried out loud
and you feared the rumble

and when the water had its way spitting you out to the dunes
there you lied
mouth filled with sand
lungs filled with water
and when you came to you were smiling
and the world was solid and generous

today

I help my buddy making the concrete rim/ring (?) that is between the (new) walls and the roof. But now it's raining cats and dogs so I had this interval for writing this update.

Our house was built in two phases and now we are adding the third. The first part was built in 1937 - we have an evidence in the attic. The first part consists of three rooms, nothing else. It is under protection because as we were told the house has some historical and aesthetic value. The second part was built somewhere between the 60's and the 70's. There are the bathroom, and the kitchen. The third part is what we build. We are the fourth owners. We decided that we need a kitchen where more than 3 people can comfortably sit at the same time, and where the kitchen has large windows, with large inside window-shelves for pots for herbs and such green stuff. By enlargening the house we will add a small extra room to the house, too.

I'm playing with the idea of documenting the saga of our house in another blog. There would be lots of pictures, too. As we do it by ourselves, no banks and/or credits involved, it does takes years. It fascinates and bores us for years, too. You might be interested in seeing how a house is done with hardly any outer help. Any opinions? If you say no, that's more than completely okay by me.

About the photo. It does NOT show our house, but you can see the material we use. In fact this is a small building the garden. We are planning to use it as a storage house for tools, firewood, whatever.