a Hungarian wedding

On May 16 we attended a wedding of a middle-aged baranta teacher. His pupils wore the red+white+black dress they use for trainings and shows. It was surely a sign of respect. Most of the people invited also showed up in one of their most traditional clothings. This is how we went from the meeting place to the church.

Inside the church.
Outside, the ceremony is over.

A herb garden that represents the area of Hungary.

Two scourges at a time. They both hit and crack!

Scourges were used not only to guide animals, but also as a source of exercise.

'I'm gonna show you baby that a woman can be tough'...

Two short sticks against one long stick. It is quite tricky to manage the long one, but you can slide it from one side to another, and surprise the attacker from a hit from an unexpected angle.

Two short sticks against one another. It is not unusual to fight in a lying position. Well, in an attack you just do what you must I guess ...

A curved Hungarian sword against a war-axe.

A pheasants could just as well use his scythe to fight with - the blade is dismounted from it's normal position so that a long object that resembles a sword is created.

A Chinadish is broken by the couple. The number of pieces are counted. If there are only a few pieces, say, 2-15 the guests chants something that means that the number of broken pieces represents the number of kids the couple is going to have together. If the china is broken into a 'hundred pieces' - the guests cry out that the couple is going to have quite a number of years together. Either way, it's a win-win situation...

An bowman on the horse, shooting fixed targets.

Paprika stew in in the making.

A cereal meat (spiced up with herbs and some veggies) is being prepared for the vegetarian guests.

Meat being prepared for serving. Note the traditional hat worn by one of the cooks.

The showman (?) delivers and presents the courses of the dinner with a small set of funny poems. The bride and the groom are now sitting at the main table (not seen in the photo).

A traditional meat-soup to start with:

My husband and our daughter having a helping from the second dish. It was a paprika stew made from sheep.

An apple pie, served at the end of the meal.

Love and Hate - facts

As I get older, the number of things I hate decreases. I focus on understanding instead.
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This is what I had in mind when I answered Jason's call on his Fun Friday.
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I have just finished watching 'The Curious Case of Benjamin Button'. I loved how many great insights it contained. I hated how selfish the main female character was. Yet, her behaviour at the time rang true. I loved the film.

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I like being loved - although there are times when I deny my need to feel so.

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Recently, I've met someone online. Blah, the usual story some of you might say.
No, not for me.

He's special, well at least, he is for me.

He is half my age.

Oh my, I did not know I was going to write a confession.

Do not read any further if this subject bothers you.

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These are my thoughts. For any help to anyone who's in need. And yes, I have my husband who knows every detail and loves me all the same. He, my man is just the finest ever available. Okay, back to the other man.... ;)

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He's just a silly boy who likes my virtual company. There are many things in life over which we disagree, yet I have learned so many things from him.

Like other fellow virtual friends, talking with him taught me that the lack of similar education and background does not exclude anyone from finding friendship with another. Being friendly and sensitive towards the needs and suffer of the other has nothing to do with being similar.

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When I was a teenager, I was alone. I had like one or two friends and that was all.

I was always the one people for some reason or another rejected.

Now, I see that the main reason was ... me.

(off...David, or Steve - was it rather *I*? ... on again...)

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These days I have been given the opportunity to seek, find friends, to loose them, to fight for a friendship, to work on a friendship...

I am so thankful for these people.

Even for those who hurt me.

I sometimes think my life was incomplete somehow. Now it's not.

I found friends, kept some, lost some...

The trivial things of one's life.

So trivial everyone experinces between the ages of 10-20 and so on...

Everyone but me.

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Recently this fellow and I had a quarrel.

The fight lasted a bit more than a day, it resulted in some (thousands of) teardrops, two letters, one sent and one withheld; and for him, some terrible feeling of weariness.

Now, a few confessions and some more tears later, we are fine.

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I am inclined to think that the main reason behind our fight was the lack of self-confidence.

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The lack of self confidence on my part, resulted in clinging to my stance even when being stubborn risked this beautiful friendship. I thought that by sticking to my ideas I can keep myself for myself. And by doing so, I justify my existence. I feared that giving up any of my standing would have resulted in loosing my self-esteem. I was absurd and stubborn in holding fast to my opinion. It was out of control and, well, he was out of his mind.

His lack of self esteem however, resulted in refusing to accept a friendship. As far as I can tell he thought that he was not worth any kind attention and true friendship so...whenever he feels a true friendship is on the way towards him he does everything to ruin the relationship so that he can say himself: 'See, I'm not worth it. I am not good enough to have friends."

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These are my findings of yesterday. I wrote them here today, perhaps...

I thought I would share my insights with you.

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Just today, as I was collecting chamomile flowers, I was thinking about giving it all up and starting a farm somewhere.

I would just grow herbs and raise some chicken.

Picking chamomile is one of the fines thing one can ever possibly do.

The plant is upright, the leaves are soft. The plants are pale to bright green and their top is full of blossoms. The more you pick the more they grow. I dry them in the attic until they are ready to get boxed for the winter.

Picking those white flowers with their yellow center is one of the few things that gets you close to God.

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I consider the idea of of buying some land where I would be growing herbs.

Bordering the age of 40, I finally see this as one possible good way of living.

Am I in my right mind?

Am I confused?

Don't be afraid: I certainly would not do anything silly.

I just don't want to wait for any better, when something's good enough.

Is it the panic that stems from the fear of getting old?

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I just think I have to ponder about this a little while.

Thanks for bearing with me.

Any advice (grammar or life...) is welcomed.

Be careful with me, I'm fragile.

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Cheers,
your faithful, indecisive, indefinite and crazy tree.

a strange egg

Dear me, what was this hen thinking ?

Note the egg on the upper right.

This container shows yesterday's produce. Our hens are of various size, type and plumage - that explains the variety of shape, size and color of eggs.

But *that* one is way different. The shape is not oval to begin with. It rather looks like a large rectangular stone. There is a spiral line at the tip of the egg that seems to incise the shell.

Our bathroom

the one and only...

Spring photos

One of our hens decided to collect her eggs. Instead of laying them where the other hens do, that is, in a small wooden box specially made for the purpose, this particular one reached higher. Every day she flew up to the top of the chicken house and laid her eggs among the hay we collected last summer. For two weeks, every day she spent some half an hour laying the egg and returned to normal life again. After that she finished laying and stayed on the eggs. This she did for 21 days. Every day she left her unborn for a couple of minutes she spared for feeding and drinking. Each time she returned to the nest. And voilá - on May 1, there she was with 5 chicken. She is the mother of all, but there were three fathers.

Among the five babies, there are three yellow ones. These will turn white as they grow old. The two black babies will turn barred. Enjoy the pictures of our garden.