We all took a close look

Those who participated at any point of the 'take a closer look' photo contest surely do know what the title of this entry refers to.
Between 28 June and 11 November, there were 10 rounds, and the winner of the tenth one is still obscure.

Let's shout out congratulations into the blogosphere to the person who got this object right - you might wish to check back to refresh your memory for the original photo.

In round 10, there were 10 players!!! We had as much as 18 (eighteen) guesses.

Your ideas ranged from 'fallen snow' through 'animal fur' to 'someone who needs a shave' to various dried objects including 'hay', 'thistle', 'grass', pine needles'. The brave ventured into saying 'feathers'.

Well, my friends, this turned out to be funnier than it really was.

I'd say Beth was quite close with 'animal fur' and Aine with 'wolf' (- on a side note: I wish I were in friendly terms with a wolf enough to make a photo this close to his fur).

But the winner got it completely right:

It was a close up of a cat.

Congratulations, IllMan!

Here's proof. This is Berci (Behr-tzie)

--- to be continued.

I'm planning to write a small statistics on the complete course of the game; to be posted soon.

Mad Tree

CAUTION:

Some readers might find some of the upcoming photos and outright truth disturbing. One might wish to avert his/her eyes and perception. One might choose to see and understand. You have been warned.

Angelique commented to the last post:

'It sounds to me like a metamorphosis is taking shape before our very eyes. I cannot wait to see what exciting things are in store for you, dear blogging buddy. I know they'll be incredibly fulfilling.'

I'd like to dedicate a post to answering this.

We all face changes during the course of our lives. Sometimes a change comes dramatically, within a period of a few days or weeks, or even hours (?). Some changes evolve much more slowlier.

Now, I feel I'm changing somehow, but do not understand the new path completely, do not see the direction clearly.

The change must have started already, which accounts for my anxiety and slight discomfort. I have not reached menopause nor am I pregnant, nor am I on any medication, so these potential factors are ruled out.

What are the factors that are still within sight?

1. My kids are growing and I surely have to adjust my attitude towards them. I have new tasks around them. My younger one has started school this September and my older one is getting into the much-dreaded pre-teenager period. I was a horrible teenager. I did NOT make any mistakes like drugs and fake friends and early stupid sex, but I was a pain in the ass to my mother. I'm afraid I am to expect the same. Or something similar.

2. Our house is under reconstruction. We do the jobs, literally, with our hands. Now it has reached a phase when my help comes much more into the picture. I have to help more in building and renovating, which is all right at one hand. We'll have a nice house. But you know, I was never that help offering person. I have to learn to give more. Of my time, of my energy. Now, if you asked my husband, he would surely mention all the things I have already done around the house. But now I think I must, like double my efforts.

3. I have been writing poems and short stories. I still have to learn so many things in this field. The writing contests, be them small or somewhat bigger, and also your valuable, constructive comments are extremely helpful in developing my skills. But also, I have to learn to nurture my well of inspiration. The question of 'why am I doing it' is always up front. I have to learn to accept that some of my writing are yes, they are good, while some others are, well, not so much. I have to learn that good and bad comes together.

4. I have started reading a book called Women Who Run with the Wolves by C. P. Estés. It is lent to me by a friend, who knows I'm open to almost any esoteric pathways and solutions. This book is a guidebook to women to help them to get familiar with their feminine side, instincts, how to use them and so on. I'm at page 43, so I can't tell you more. Feminity has always been a difficult issue for me. I'm NOT deviated sexually, physically from the average, but I have/had some issues. Some of you might recall my entries about kinesiology sessions I took part around the turn of 2006/2007. I keep on reading this book seeing where it will take me.

5. Sometimes I just feel plain tired. The number of husband and wife special occassions (I refer here to evenings in a theater, at a classical music concert, hiking in the mountain) has been apprioaching zero recently. Well, in recent years. We are each other's best friend and can debate any, yes, ANY issue ranging from his uhm...interesting dreams through his boss's new habits through school issues, through my participating in a writing contests to religion, to politics and all. I blame it on the house. I love this house and I love that it's all ours, NO BANK credit involved. But....

6. There are messages about a serious economical breakdown in Hungary. It is supposed to come early next year. It might mean that there will be no electricity and shops, to name the two most important things. My husband hears forecasts not unlike to the vision displayed in the Mad Max series. This, combined with the forecats about a total world control, with minor details such as the verichip and Nais for animals in the USA, totally freak me out. Am I a freak to feel frightened? I just can not put my head into sand, pretending it's quite all right. What is the world heading to? What am I to do? Do something that will be remembered, risking my family - not really my style...or is it? Do more appropriate things to save myself and my beloved? Like keeping more chicken, having more veggies of our own, learning sewing clothes and all? Preparing for Mad Hungary and Mad World? Will it really come? Have I gone mad? OR have the world gone blind?

Now, as my bedtime story is over, pull up the blankets my dear and have a good night. Sleep tight. Or you may also opt for reading the poem I wrote on 21 Nov.

UPDATE. You are so kind and honest with me with your comments. I'm still taking a rest, but will be back soon - I already have plans! :)

Here's Mad World by Gary Jules. I don't know much about the singer, but his simple devotion and humble performance gets my admiration. The song is a bit monotonous, and for some, can feel boring, too, but now it's just matches my mood.

Cry

I walked up the attic

gathered the smothering and abortive refuse

in one big sack waved into the filaments of my heart

I took them to the market

where an old beggar in shreds

took them away for drips of diamonds

I laughed and felt easy

and I cried on the way home, I mourned the loss

I will never be the same again

I will be dancing among the clouds and

clawing down into the dirt with my bare hands

until they bleed

until my nails break

embracing the elves within

knowing this one will be me,

stepping out and standing proud -

myself

myself

a small break

Dear all,
A small break is needed.
I will be visiting your sites all the same.
---
In other news, I'm stuck.
It's time again to break some of my own barriers. Only yet again, I don't know which those are.

I do wish to stand out, but just as much to 'blend in', to accommodate. To be able to live a governable, reliable life. Am I getting old? At the same time I want to get old, too.

Where am I going?

Besides going up and up again, where do I go?

What tasks do I miss performing while perfecting at others?

---

Can you hear my wings whirring? I'm off.

witness

I'm engaged in watching the 'Witness for the Prosecution', a 1957 Billy Wilder film, based on Agatha Christie's story.

I'm watching these old films on YouTube while they are on.

I'll be soon up with the solution for round 10 in the Take a close look photo contest. Please feel free to return and cast your guesses.

----

I have been witnessing school events directly in the classroom as two days in this week were dedicated to showing parents, grandparents and anyone interested just exactly what is going on in the classroom during a lesson.

In Hungary, classrooms are closed except for the teacher and his/her pupils. No one is allowed there. But there are exceptions. The most important are these 'Open Days' I have just mentioned.

Kids are excited, and the parents, too.

But a parent might visit any other class outside of the frame of these Open Days, when said parent and the teacher involved mutually agrees upon it. I, mother of a suspected case of serious AD/HD son, have been allowed to watch the 'horrible actions' my son is capable of while in class. Those times are seem to have gone, my son is getting older and more mature.

When he was transferred to his now third school, the Headress (word?) of the School looked upon him and asked: Oh, so he's the boy with the serious case of AD/HD, isn't he?

My son was infamous all over the city BEFORE he entered this 3rd school.

After all, it all turned out for the better.

Son has started to show noticable improvement in the behaviour section, finally.

Almost all of his teachers have proved to be tolerant, understanding and loving, and the list includes the Head of the school as well.

They accept him and are constructive in helping him to overcome his difficulties.

---

I attended 2 of my son's classes and 3 of my daughter's.

My daughter is now 7.5 years old and is in the first grade. They are learning the alphabet, including those funny Hungarian characters as well :)

One of the tasks these first graders faced was reading out a word aloud. Once they did this, each of them had to embed it into a sentence.

The word was hó (snow). A very easy word to decipher, I guess.

Most of the kids came up with sentences like:

- We make snowballs in the garden.

- There is snow on the road.

- A car slips in the snow.

But behold when it comes to my daughter; her version was something along this:

- It is snowing outside and we are throwing snowballs, and are building a snowman, who is standing in the snowcastle we have just made from the snow and it is still snowing.

Talking about love of words? And showing?

Here's a drawing she recently made:

cost and outcome

I've already written about the Restless Dawn Short Story contest at Jason's site. First of all I would like to acknowledge the enormous work hosting a contest surely must mean. Thank you Jason for the opportunity. This the second writing contest I enter at his site and the third I enter in my life. These help me a lot. Discarding words, finding the unnecessary ones to reach the word limit is a very important tool to improve. I tend to write way too much.

My entry, titled Restless Dawn is at number 16. I guess most of my regular readers have read and commented over there. Therefore I'm not going to publish it over here.

---

I read all the entries. I keep reading them as they appear.
Most of them are quite interesting, sometimes surprising, and most of all, almost all of them are technically excellent.

I recall how hard it was to cast my vote on one single entry when I was asked, when all contestants were asked (by Jason) to name one, just one for the 'Reader's Choice' Award. I have my favourites now and choosing will be tough again.

Stories I like strike a chord within me. I marvel at the story AND the way it is told.

Because the way is just as much important.

I don't think there's any doubt that bad writing makes any *insert adjective here (heartbreaking/clever/intelligent/surprising/warming/charming)* story bad/dull/uninteresting/hard-to-chew.

Yet, there are stories where writing is brilliant, and a complete galore of technical skills are displayed. The WAY the story is told gets into one's mind and lingers within. It makes you think, it gets under your skin. That is right, except that the premise and the characters are sick.

No, I don't wish to re-run my whinges about disgusting characters and subjects. I did that part a while ago here.

I'm into a more general thing now: I happen to believe that we are wired for the need to feel catharsis when reading. A climax, a solution. To see the bad punished, to be left with something that eases any pain that had been created, to see the 'good' remain happy after all, and so on.

At the same time I'd like to point out that ambiguity is quite fine with me and it is almost a must in some of the genres.

Rotten characters, evil actions, a no-winner-no-hope situation DOES have an effect on the reader. In most of the times, the effect can be a bigger one than that of a reassuring and calm story. I think most of us are mischievous like that.

So, what's up with that?

You've been exposed and experienced a shock/terror. It reached your guts for sure. The experience is strong. Is this called a 'great' experience? Do we really, really NEED for SUCH experiences?

While most writers want to get the attention of the readers, to really shake them, I do think the WAY writers achieve his/her goal matters.

Do you know the saying that translates to something like: 'the objective endorses the method'.

I think this is one of the biggest lies in history.

Take a really close look #10

This is the last round in the series of guessing the object of a close-up photograph.

In the previous game number 9, we had 6 players (Aine, Beth, Jason, The Quoibler, Church Lady and Ello; and since multiple guesses are allowed, 14 deviations. First of all, I'd like to thank all of who for playing along !

I suggest you take a short glance back to the original photo HERE.

-

Your ideas ranged from a simple pumpkin skin to the more sizzling 'freshly baken bread', 'cheese on casserole top', 'sugar muffin', or 'cornbread'.

I am really sorry to say that this time NONE of you were EXACTLY right.

In order to avoid the much dreaded 'no winner(s)' situation, I had some time deciding which of the guesses came CLOSE ENOUGH.

I discarded suggestions involving and/or referring to simple and shiny surfaces and/or objects; since the original thing did not have such characteristics. 'Pizza' and 'baked cheese' (separate entries) however, do come closer a bit, but not close enough.

And while 'sugar cookies' are anything but close to the reality, the phrase 'crystalline' got me.

-

And therefore yes, we have a WINNER.

Congratulations, Aine.

And just what exactly this photo was about?
-

Voilá: A coat of fried breadcrumbs on a slice of a giant puffball.

Here's the proof:

This is how it is done: Mushroom slices are coated with flour, beaten whole eggs and breadcrumbs, in this order. Coated slices are then fried in oil. This process results in a crunchy, salty coating that hides the inner softer part.
-
Before moving onto the last photo, hear my bonus questions:
Is everyone familiar with this type of cooking? Do you have a special name attached to it?

And now, this is the end, my friends:
What exactly this might be?
Take a closer look.

Have fun!

Pork with sauerkraut

While other people have fun partying, I'm providing you with a recipe to one of the most popular dishes in Hungary. I'm doing it partly because I, although might look the opposite, like to party as well, so basically my mind is occupied by just listening to the sizzling OUT THERE.

Update: I have entered Jason's contest with a 249-word piece. According to rules, I can only post it here as soon as it is up over there.

So, to celebrate all that buzz that's going around I thought I'd give a hearty, though virtual meal to all those meat-lovers out there.

This is called toroskáposzta (toh-rosh-kah-pos-tah) where 'toros' refers to this meal being prepared during the slaughter of a house-reared pig, while 'káposzta' simply means 'cabbage'.

In proper households this meal is made with home made sauerkraut, while those who have no sense make it with sweet cabbage. But the results are nowhere similar. This has to be done with sauerkraut. Period.

Ingredients for 6 person:

1 kg of pork, possibly organic, diced

3 large onions, diced

3 Tbsp red pepper powder, also known as paprika

1 kg sauerkraut (depending on the acidity some let said mighty substance soak in water prior to use. Well, there are more decent cooks than those who allow such horrible actions to take place. A well-made sauerkraut is pleasant to taste, not overly sour, and thus it should not be allowed to bear the sufferings of being soaked and drained and such.)

a LARGE pot

4-5 Tbsp oil

100g plain bacon, diced

Beware: salt is NOT needed

Perhaps you have already noticed how simple this thing is : The weight of cabbage equals that of the meat, while onion is about one-third of this amount.

Here's how to prepare this goodness:

Step 1. sauté onion and bacon on oil
And this is how it should look when it's ready for the next step:

Step 2. Add the red paprika powder and be careful to keep stirring it - burnt paprika becomes bitter in a bad way. Do not spoil your lunch. This is the toughest part. If in doubts, the best you can do is not to do Step 2 longer than a few seconds, but this step is the shortest one anyway. It shouldn't take more than a minute.

Step 3. Add meat and keep stirring. When the meat has changed it's color, proceed to Step 4.
Step 4. Add sauerkraut. Stir in and make a thorough mix. Since cabbage will release some of it's own liquid, you may not need to add water. But you do have to watch and be careful so as not to burn it. Yes, you may add some water every now and then. Depending on the size of meat-cubes and the age of swine, the acidity of cabbage, cooking will take 1-1,5 hours.
Step 5. You know it's ready when the meat cubes are soft, and the red color of the paprika has worn off a bit.
Step 6. Serve with bread. People who serve it with anything else than bread are bordering blasphemy. Don't ever trust them. Toroskáposzta should come with bread.

Pictured here with my own, hand made bread. But it is just as fine with white bread one gets in shops.

Step 7 (Optional). Have another helping.

Step 8. Since sauerkraut if well made contains helpful bacteria, you can safely keep it in the fridge for 2-3 days. Which means you can still have this fine thing on a second day. Also, you can put it in a deep freezer. A very reasonable option!

The Joke that not everyone gets

in my last entry I let you read a joke, assuming that almost noone would find it funny.

I considered it as a cultural and/or social research and I would like to say words of appreciation for everyone who's taken part, and time to read the 'joke' through and to provide me with thoughts.

If you have NOT read it yet, please feel free to do so. And don't forget to comment :)

---

I think I owe you some explanation, which I will give now, but I don't think anyone not having found the joke funny in the first place would feel like laughing.

During the soviet regime people were burdened with a perplexing set of seemingly random laws and regulations. The chances of completely observing these less-than-intelligently articulated, unnecessary and cumbersome rules was next to nothing. Yet people survived because there have been those shortcuts, u-turns and indirect routes everyone knew of, yet noone has spoken of. If one knew the how of things, the place of the secret door to hide away, one was safe.

We had rules, and we had to have the knowledge to disobey them.

This knowledge is what the rabbit has in the joke.

The rabbit is well aware that if he follows the rule he will be dead.

But he tries anything to save his life.

'Can the rules be overlooked just for me, just for now, please, oh mighty bear, whom I fear?' - this is what he has in his voice. And also: 'Can't you just posibly look away, pretending I don't even exist?'

Awful laws, seeking for alleviation in a personal way, corruption, misery and mischief - all condensed into one single political joke.

Some of you found this joke disturbing. Now you know why.

-----

-----

Surfing through the web I came accross this vocabulary quiz. All you have to do is find a synonym to a word. There are four options to choose from. If you don't find the correct match, nothing happens. But if you do, 10 grains (not grams, grains) are donated to someone in a poor country in the framework of the World Food Programme.

Give it a try.

I played today and raised 680 grains by matching and mis-matching words with their synonims. My knowledge fits somewhere between levels 28-32. The higher the level, the more difficult/strange the words are.

UPDATE: I played again and gained 800 grains. My vocabulary keeps expanding!

---

and if you've done your part, grab your keyboard and what's left of your brain and head towards The Clarity of Night, where another short fiction writing contest is up and effective as of this Wednesday, 7 November.

Don't miss it.

I'm on 286, dang. Cut, cut and cut.

different perceptions

Last weekend, Ello has posted a videoclip she found funny.

Having read the comments, I think I was the only one who did not care much about it.

I know that people have a different sense of humor. Not everyone likes jokes about the dead for example, or jokes that include bad language.

But there's more to that - I think there are cultural differences, too.

To supply my theory, I have only one example. Which is not wuite supportive, but let's see.

Everytime my DH goes abroad and/or into a group of people, where politics is a debated issue, he discharges one of his favourite jokes (read above).

He found that all people living in any of the countries that had been occupied by the former soviet regime find it hilarious. They laugh, but it is also an ironic laugh. He also found that if the same joke is told to anyone outside said regions, no laughs depart the lips of the audience. Only a slight 'wow, that must be funny' is expected.

I let you read the joke.

Please tell me your reaction. Was it funny, sardonic, sad, perhaps? Or anything else that enters your mind.

****

The inhabitants of the forest are informed that the bear has created a 'death-list'. The death list contains names of animals and those who are listed will be personally killed (and eaten) by the bear itself.

The wolf is really scred, too. He decides to meet the bear in it's cave, asking about the list.

He enters the cave, calling out to the bear: Is there really a list of death, of great bear?

Oh yes growls the bear.

Am I on the list, my bear?

The same growl comes as a response.

Would I be killed, too?

The bear growls and catchtes the wolf in the same instant, garbs him and kills him instantly.

Another day, the fox becomes scared, too. He also desices to visit the bear.

Am I on your death list? the fox asks in a small voice.

Yes.

Will I be killed?

Yes, comes the quick answer and off the fox's head goes. The fox is eaten by the bear the same minute.

The other day the rabbit find himself wondering about his own fate. He decides to go up to the cave and ask the bear.

Am I on the list, bear?

Yes, comes the mighty roar.

Is it possible to remove my name from the list, bear?

Yes, answers the bear, and deletes 'Rabbit' from the list.

***

Memories recharged - Argos

This is a writing exercise. I think I fled a bit (?!) far from the original settings of the Church Lady. These are her very words, describing the task:

Create and name a God. Describe him or her. This God has powers. What are they? Someone prays to this God's powers. Who? Describe this person.Is there a ceremony? In what kind of temple? What will archeologists find years later?

With no set word count limit, my entry was flowing away a bit. I've outlined it, written it in two goes, re-writing it once. It's got 610 words.

Here you go.

----

------
- Are you there?
- Yes, well, I think I am.
- How old are you?
- Almost eleven. My name is Ewen. It’s warm outside and I’m kneeling beside the barn. I have company, my younger sister, Jenny. She’s five.
- Go on, Eric.

‘A day before my 11th birthday Argos died. Jenny was so upset she hardly spoke. She even did not talk to her corn-doll anymore before going to bed. Now, that was a sign, Mom said. She allowed us to bury him in the garden. Jenny wanted to spread flowers on top so I decided to make a tomb she can decorate.

We went to the meadow to get some earth to make the tomb.
- Come on, dig harder, we’ve almost done.
- But my spade is broken.
- Here’s mine, take it.

We kept on digging until the cart was full.
Jenny said we should top the heap off so that I could carry her back in the cart but I rejected.
- Think about Argos, you stupid.
- I’ll tell Momma.
- Just go ahead. Argos is big. He needs a big tomb. Go, get some flowers instead. I’m not carrying you.

I brought the cart beside the barn. There lied Argos, eyes closed. He has not moved an inch since yesterday. He was dead. Jenny returned with a basket in her hand.
- Look what I brought.
- All right.
- I’ve got daisies, lilies, dandelions, look, a whole bunch of dandelions.
- Mom will kill you for picking her lilies for a dog.
- No, Mom likes Argos, too.
- Liked. He is dead.
- No, he’s just….- Jenny’s voice was dangerously weak and trembling now.
- All right. Don’t cry. Argos will be all right.

Argos’s rag was placed at the bottom and we arranged him as if he were asleep. Dad allowed me to use some of those big stones to make a tomb around Argos.
- Ewen, when will Argos awake now?
- He will not.
- But, how do we know he’s all right? That he’s got his meat every day.
- He does not need food anymore, don’t you see? He’s dead.

Jenny shook her head in disbelief.
- But his favorite bone. He will miss it.
- Go and get it if you want.

When she returned I was almost ready. Jenny put the bone in and I shoveled the soil on top of him. Those large stones I carried here in the morning made a good stand. I covered them with soil, too. My body and forehead were hot with all that hard work. Jenny put the flowers there on top.
- But Ewen, who will take care of Argos, down there?
- An angel.
- Let’s pray to the angel to be a good master.’

- Mr. Rogers I think the memory is over.
- That is completely all right, Eric. I will be counting from five to one and you return to this very day. I’m starting now.

Five. (That heap was one of the secret places in our family. As I grew older, I did not let my friends see it. I pretended not recognizing the tomb at all.)

Four. (The guilt was there. A loss and denial of our beloved Argos. Argos? What a fine name.)

Three. (The guilt has almost gotten me. Not knowing what it was about I felt terrified. I am fine now.)

Two. (I will always have a special place in my heart for Argos now. I will remember him.)

One. (I am fine with my memories. I am here.)

You are here. You are in the present.