I feel like I'm rowing in a boat that floats on an endless ocean. The water is peaceful, there's no real wind around. The wawes are smooth.

The weather is pleasant, too.

The Sun is up and I can see far away.

Problems start here as I can see nothing besides the horizon.

No boats, no land near in sight.

I row to a direction only to find another amount of infinite water. Water and horizon. No land. Nowhere to rest the boat. Nowhere a forest to wonder into. Nowhere a tree to hug.

I am tired. And I feel like I'm hugging a huge chunk of ice instead.

I'm not afraid of sharks. Neither does hunger or thirst threatens me.

It is the loneliness that makes me shudder.

The lack of a port to sail to.

going political

Besides going to a cat show on Sunday, this last weekend was highlighted by those fantastic 4 hours we had at the Railway History Park in Budapest.

I really don't have much time writing, thinking or meditating these days. It is partly because my son is at home for most of the time as he is home-schooled, partly because I am busy with organizing meetings between various teachers, phychologists and our family including and not restricted to our son, and partly because I am preparing myself for a journey to the Netherlands, which starts at 26 September, more on that later, and finally, partly I am excited about what's going on right now in the country.

I intended this blog to be free of political issues. So far, I've broken the rule only once.

I wanted to leave politics out. This time I feel I have to come out as it is in me. I realized that although my blog is apolitical I am not. I might not be familiar with the everyday issues. what I am concerned about is the greater scheme, the state, survival and well-being of our nation. I hope when people I like read what I communicate about what's going on here they might get a better idea of the picture.

I've been asked if I was ok. Yes, I am ok. I am not on the streets, but I have friends who are. I am against violence and careless ravaging. At the same time, no revolution takes place without material damage. I hope this thing develops itself into a strong, well-organized revolution.

I've read that the CNN called us, the Hungarians naive for being so upset about a politician lying. There can be some naivity, but if there was not any, the world would fall apart.

Lying? It's not really about lying. People like me, or people who are aware of what's going on behind the scenes are well aware that the Prime Minister is not much of a virtue. Neither are almost any of the members of his party...

It's not that he admitted he was lying. It's not just that.

For those who know nothing about the thing, here's a short rewiev. The PM's speach leaked to the media in which he, speaking to his colleagues, admits that they lied, they did nothing and that the unbeloved political packages he was about to introduce to the people in general are not because of the vision of an uplift in the economy, these hardly believable confinements are supposed to make up for the loss they've done by not doing anything prosperous. Now, that's something that makes people mad. Besides that, he, PM of a country, calls the country a whore and also, full of maggots.

He and his band proved yet again that they have no respect and not a little bit of affection, if not the heroic love, allright, for the country.

They have the media so everything that goes out, either at the national or at the international channels, every information is masked, distorted, or at the very least, selected.

You might have no idea what those, who find the place of their birth, the traditions of a nation important feel. We have endured many things. Including that you are condemned if you put the national flag out or sing traditional songs in events. If you believe that this nation is more than just a collective of this and that. The list would go endless. Disdain, disbelief, scorn, and rejection. At personal and academic levels alike. It was enough.

I do hope the thing that's going on goes well and goes to the highest possible extent. I do not wish to see too many hooligans out in the streets. It would take away the clarity of the case, so as to say. I hope for understanding, for the end of those bad feelings. Noone is better than the other - I want to see equality and prosperity. It won't be easy, though. It will be tough.

Might continue later. Until that, may the peace and strength of Mother Earth be with us.

Give me your opinion. What are the reflection of the street events in your country? Am I naive? Is there a solution? I suggest the present PM and his band leaving before the week ends, but that's just the impatient me....

UPDATE:

I've heard that anyone who carried the national flag was arrested during the protest.

The photo below comes from the CNN website: A policeman is beating a protester. I chose this one because my husband has a t-shirt with exactly the same words written on it. This is NOT my husband, but this person and my husband has something in common. They both have a piece of garment that states (written in old Hungarian script, not very much unlike the German runes) that the ancient land is endangered and all Hungarians should rise and be aware. And there's one difference between this man and my husband and it is the policeman behind.

on cats...

We visited a cat show on 17 September and managed to spend almost 2 hours among cages full of cats without getting bored. But to achieve this, we did have to leave before the second hour was over...

I used to have a dog and I used to take her to dog shows, so I knew what to expect here, but my kids have never been to cat or dog shows before. I enjoyed that I can explain them the activities of the judge for example. But they were most excited about the cats of course. We have a cat and our friends have too, but here there were cat-types they have never seen before. We admired the Maine Coon, especially a male that weights 9kgs at the age of 2.5 years...

(photo comes later!!!)

shuddered by the hairless ones and stayed by their cage for long minutes nonetheless...

and we loved short-nosed varieties....

and we were surprised by seeing a cat whose eyes actually sparkled....(ok, that's just the flashlight)

and played with abessine kittens until the owner told us not to disturb them...note to owners: for God's sake, don't bring them along to the show if they are disturbed!!!...

and have found out the the BIS is still our Berci, who's diet consist of some cheapish-catfood called Kitekat, corn on the cob and various birds she hunts in the garden... She will not be run over by a car, cause she looks out in the street and basically is a tough cat. I interviewed an owner of a Maine Coon cattery about the behaviour.

Me: these cats are so beautiful and strong. Are they tough, too? Do they live well outside?

Owner of cattery: Yes, my cats go into the garden, too and they like it.

Me (not really satisfied with the above answer): You know we have a mixed-breed cat and she is so careful and she's a good hunter, too. Is it possible to let Maine Coons live in the garden?

She: yes, but of course I never let my cats out into the street.

Me (sensing some kind of stupidity lurking around here): Are they safe from cars? Are they responsible enough out in the dangerous street?

She (proving my fears): No, a Maine Coon does not afraid of anything.

Me (saying a polite goodbye while having hard times holding back my laugh at such a mental challenge.)

Hello, people. A cat who's not afraid of cat is mentally retarded. Why be proud of it?

Allright.

Here's some Berci for you. She's having her summer fav, corn on the cob here.

And finally, here's a picture of a Gordon Setter called Dolly. I found her over the net as I have no digital photos of the Gs I used to have, but this Dolly somehow resembles Niki. Just to prove that I am still a dog person. I used to take her to long walks to meadows, forests, parks. She used to make small jumps during hunting and she used to roam endlessly...

off for the weekend

Dear all,

tomorrow I will continue the course I started two weeks ago. My pre-course thoughts and experiences are shared here. In fact I did not write a single line about the lesson itself... Maybe next time. I just want to gather information. It is interesting and I think I'll have to use things I learn there. This second lesson on 15 September is about communication, messages, angels and aions. We'll see. I might re-connect something higher to help me.

I am tired and now there's a huge task ahead of me. My son just does not fit into any school and I took the responsibility of teaching him and getting him to get his points so as to make it seem that he's a real student. I never thought I would speak so much about my son in my blog - but now this thing is going to take a lot of time. I might not be able to blog very often. It's not that I feel sorry for myself - but to be brutally honest, it's partly there, too. I think I will have to work harder to find more space and separate time for myself as an entity.

This weekend we are going over to a friend's house. Our plan goes as follows: Saturday: we visit the Railway Open Air Museum in Budapest, where steam engines will fight for a price. I love steam engines so very much!!! There will be some model trains, too. Saturday evening: a sort of barbecue at home. Hungarian people often grill bacon over open fire. Kids like it very much, too. I suppose eating bacon sounds disgusting to some of you... Does it so? For Sunday we are heading for a cat-show, because most of us in the company are cat lovers, too. I am a dog-person, but I like cats, too.

For evidence, here's our cat.

Berci wishes you a happy weekend!

Pronounce her name something like B-e (as the 'a' in 'fat', or 'that')-c (as 'ds' in 'kids')-i (as the 'i' in 'winter'. She is a neutered mixed bred female, and is about 7 years old. This photo was taken almost exactly a year ago.

well....

what have I been doing in these days?

Well, partly I was busy doing things around the house, getting involved in my son's school affairs, visiting friends, taking care of our hens and small chickens, making a letcho for the winter.

Wait. Do you know what a letcho is? I assume you don't. It is a food. You make like this. Sauté onions on hot oil. Add green pepper (sliced, of course). Sauté together. It's all yummy now, but the thing goes on like this: You add some sliced tomatoes as well and let the tomatoes become a mush until the whole thing looks like as if it was soaked in tomato sauce. It means that the letcho is ready. You can use it as it is, or for spicing up almost any food with it. Just adding one or two spoons of letcho to any stew makes it special. Many people put some letcho into a pan and add eggs to make scrambled eggs on top of it. The list of potential use is almost endless. Only that is is a salty food, so it never goes well with cakes, jams, fruits...But I think you've already guessed that. So, back to my activities: we made letcho for the winter, which means that we cooked like 60 litres and than put them into airtight bottles when still hot. These bottles were then put into a well insulated box. They cool off for 3-4 days. Which means that all bacteria is killed. We never use any preservatives or similar stuff. Hardly any letcho or jam goes wrong with this wonderful method. If you know this food and have an English name to offer, please do so in the comments section.

Besides making letcho, I discovered that our hen has finally has three little chickens underneath her. The chicks are darlings. See the photo here. Update: One of the little chicklets died. S/he fell into the watering dish within the hen-house and drowned. Now we have only two baby chickens.

My son has come third in his age group in a town running competition. everybody ran 2,5 kilometres. He will be 10 this December. I am proud of him. He was tired and said that he had never run this hard in his life ever before. He received a congratulation from this school's chairlady. This is one of the greatest honors in Hungarian schools.

Also, we have been informed today (13 Sept) that said son has pushed away a girl (one of his classmates) in a stairway so the girl fell and was hospitalized for her ankle. My precious son. He shows no guilt neither regret, but inside, he is troubled - we sense that. He is not an easy nut. Absolutely. For the record, he is doing the 4th grade, but it's his 3rd school. And we have not moved since he started school. Same town, 3 schools. He has a certain...*coughs* fame for being a tough kid.

Now, I have been advised to take him out of school and educate him at home, for his interest. This means less blogging I'm afraid.

At the same time I feel another spur of depression coming over again. It's not the same feeling I had during my teenage years, neither it is similar to the experience I had some month ago. I am just tired. I would just like to go away to have a rest... I might write something about that, later...

But before that really happens, I have to tell you the story of my half-naked Tuesday. It is not nekkid and not Thursday as well. But some of you might like the story nevertheless... I was on bicycle to get into preschool for my daughter the other day. It was quite a hot afternoon and I had a t-shirt above my jeans. Suddenly I felt an insect within my t-shirt. I wiggled my arm in a vain attempt to get rid of the animal. This only resulted in getting stung on my shoulder. I started wiggling some more, but the bee/wasp(?) did not find the way out and kept buzzing more frantic than ever. I was afraid of being stung again and the whole embracing-a-wasp-under-my-t-shirt affair was getting a bit off the limits, you know. So what a decent woman does in a situation like this? I don't know, but I threw my bike down on the street and teared off my t-shirt. Right there, yes, on the street. Wow. Good for me that I had a bra on. Or was it good for the onlookers. In fact, there was nobody there, as it is a small street in a suburban area. But parents usually keep coming in and out from the pre-school at this time of the afternoon. Fortunately noone came out during my accident. Or were they? But returned not to insult me by watching my ...uhm..performance... ?? I might never know.

My question for you there: have you ever been forced, like me that day, to get rid of some of your clothes in public? How was that?

turbulence of drafts and ripe thoughts

Dear all,
this entry is personal. Not really interesting, perhaps. It's in me. Has to get it out.

there has been some gatherings of drafts lately. Somehow I was unsure of posting them, sometimes the timing was just not right, and so on...

Finally I thought: 'hey this is my diary. My thoughts, however stupid, unjustified, unbalanced they might be.' Now I'm sensing I'm on the defense for I'm not valueing myself high again. I'm sorry. More than anything I am speaking out.

The entry (growing up) below is one of those entries I wrote a bit earlier and adjusted today.

Below here's also another entry I've written even earlier. When I wrote that I was absolutely sure about its being right and valid. Now I doubt it. It's about my potential artistic ways within me, the calling of the beast, which I refused to answer and decided to turn down later.

At the time of writing I was unsure, too. How is it that some artists survive? How is it that not one and each of them leads a miserable life? Why me? Why am I one of those who are either unsuitable for being an artist or are bound to end up either in a mental house or ... nowhere?

Now here it comes:

I saw the beast, its eyes were sparkling in the fog. It turned a smile on me and called my name. I heard as it howled and whistled. For a moment or two I faced the one of whose name is better to be withheld. I saw trees collapsed, distorted from the Earth, creatures tormented, worlds torn apart in the eye. There was an offer of a potential new horizon just for me behind the wind. I knew I would like the new self. Would I really? - I heard a tiny voice within me. Just as when nothing tears into the grey curtain of soreness I saw a creek of shine, beaming as a bee over a sunflower. I knew I made the choice. And the beast was gone.

***this something was inspired by an issue that never escaped my mind since my awakening as a reader and thinker - allright, sometimes I tend to NOT think, but... which of of does not?Selling one's soul to the devil is the phrase and the act (procedure) that captured my imagination once again and finally I think I understood what's this all about. You know I somehow used not see the point. Selling how? and what? and what are the drawbacks of such a deal? Not that I did (or do) not believe in the existence of a soul. It was my belief in this immortal thing that made it harder for me to get the meaning home.I don't think I have ever been tempted, do I? Ok, maybe. During the past years and months, yes. I heard a calling, but refused to answer. Now I know the reason for my refusal of acknowledgement. What seemed lazyness or ignorance, fear of the unknown proved to be a wise decision. I did not decide when I was unaware of the impact. I did not measure things when I did not know the scale. I decided not to decide and it was a careful step.

****In the above entry I might be a bit, if not completely indistinct and confusing to my readers. I thought I had to add something to explain, something more digestible.I tend to believe that I might have an inclination within me to do something artistic. I feel I MIGHT be able to achieve something. All those things are highly questionable. (But if you visit this place you'll learn that everyone's inner self is an artist...) I also felt that to achieve that something I might NEVER reach happiness. This was a faint feeling. I felt that the trade-off of being famous would be a life I might not enjoy. No, not really. I would enjoy being able to create things that would have never existed otherwise. I would enjoy being acknowledged for being a certain person. Fame. Oh, la, la. So I did see those eyes and the trade-offs as well. I hesitated, yes, even though I am a mother of two and caring wife, and so on, all those seemingly boring stuff...yes...I hesitated and faced the potential and was unable to decide. Because from time to time when I am raised high and higher up, I know I've found happiness. Fame? Creating things not to fulfill me and not to pursuit my ultimate goal? When it's so simple. Life. Sun. Family. Green leaves. Wind. Love. Earth. It sounds much too simple, doesn't it?And finally: How about your trade?

*** There now. End of quote. Feelin' much much better now. Off with the burdens.

update: the photo above is NOT me. This is Nicole Kidman masked as Virginia Woolf in 'The Hours'.

growing up

I have been looking for questions and answers ever since I know myself. Beside learning hard, my teenage years were all about wanting to become happy. I remember a day when my stepfather drove the car and my mother was sitting on the seat beside him. I was behind them, on the backseat. It was one of those days when I was extremely upset and gloomy. Thinking back to those times, I was an upset teenager. My mother, not really understanding me at that time, asked me with a simple smile on her face: 'Are you not happy? Why are you not happy? I am sensing that you are not happy.' I was coping with tears, but held them back, or most of them. I wanted to run away, to cry out my anger, my loneliness, my teenage things, my pain... I wanted to shout out: 'Yes, Mom, I am completely UNHAPPY, don't you see? I am looking for me but what I found is something I do not like. Why? When will I found myself happy? You know all I would like to find is a happy me, but there is no sign for that.' I wanted to rage and shout. Instead I choose to hold back my tears and look out of the window as if being bored.

Now, I consider myself a grown-up person. I have kids. Kids that were born partly because I decided to give them life. For the love of my husband, for the love of life. At the same time I believe that their being here and with us is their decision. They teach me a lot. About being a mother and a human being. About responsibility, giving and caring. Life and love. About myself.
I do not shut myself up like I used to. If I have something to say, I say it. I have to let my message heard. Otherwise, why have a message?

I questioned reasons of living and dying. I found many potential answers to my questions. I was always way too careful to fully accept any idea or community. I preferred to remain an outsider, watch and find proofs. But I was determined to find something. I never really liked or understand those who were sitting on the fence. I knew there would be an answer and there was. Compiled over the years, formed by various forms of experiences during all those years - there was an answer and I am ever so happy to be reminded that it's always there.

eco-babies

UPDATE: I let this entry remain here for a time. Primarily not in order to mask my lazyness to come up with something new, but to gather more information - from those who read it and find it challenging. The question, once again is if you are one of those ecologically conscious weirdos, what's your answer to kids? Have them or not? Is having children and being an eco-maniac in any way connected? I don't know the answer, but I am thankful for Tia and Bruce for dismissing my fears : this subject, although IS delicate, is NOT a taboo among people coming from different cultures. See what I wrote and see their contribution, too. Than you are kindly asked to add yours, too - if you have any opinion.

Refraining from having children in our over-burdened, out-of-pace modern world seems a suitable and appropriate choice. I have not yet met anyone in person who decided to give birth on ecological reasoning. The big 'to have a baby or not' question was either a matter of heart, or a matter of money. Too bad, but that's it.

Off topic:

I have two kids, for the matter of heart, but I think this is it and there will be no third. Not that I'm getting a bit old for the whole baby-business, but because I don't consider myself a hen-type: you know, who keeps gathering kids under her wings, keeps feeding and entertaining them...never fails to give a hug or share a kiss when the little one's crying...I'm not like that. I sometimes do find it difficult to be a good mother even though I have ONLY two kids. Having more kids would be an adventure too risky for me I think. Yet I admire those who manage to handle and love properly one-two-or more or any kid(s). Being a mother is a difficult job.

Now, back to the main topic:

I have however, heard of two women, who did. One of them has successfully given birth to a baby girl this year - but I am in no way want to hurt the remaining one, dear Tia - in any way. Neither want I to slam any other woman who feels the same way. It is their life, their choice.
Tia, in her comment here has explained her choice. Her reasoning is totally clear. If we people in general destroy the Earth, leaving but a vast barren unfertile lifeless planet behind, why make the burden bigger by increasing the number of those who create new burdens? Whose ecological footprint is times larger than it should ever be? Sounds reasonable enough. I have no intention to challenge or doubt it - I am not seeing the future. (On a side note: I am thankful for God for NOT having this ability.)

My theory however is that those who are ecologically concerned and who are seeking knowledge to preserve and sustain LIFE in its integrity and beauty - and herefrom the word 'we' might refer to anyone who feels the same way.
With all the love and understanding, intelligence we have, it is our duty to pass these genes on for the future. If we don't proliferate, those who destroy the planet outnumber those who want to stop the destruction. If the Big Collapse ever comes (I pray that it won't) we will be the ones who'll be having the knowledge. Others might be better at shouting or destroying anything edible within sight or reach, but we will have the knowledge that goes behind the scenes. If we keep us in numbers, if we keep contacting each other, perhaps the sole knowing of each other is reassuring enough... so after the BC we will be able to show sustainable methods of survival, long term planning...if we don't get stabbed for a bottle of water.

(Above and below are a peek a boo photo of my daughter this spring in our garden. She is 6 on the pic.)

How about you?

I am looking for your opinion in this matter. Let us hear those who have or planning to have kids and those who are childless and/or are planning not to have kids. I hope this subject is not a taboo in your countries. As it is not a real taboo in Hungary. And among friends it is absolutely NOT a taboo.

September

It seems that September brings along changes to almost anyone I know. Some changes are obvious. One of my girlfriend here is having her second child within a few days, for example. School starts for kids, including my older one, for example. Some other friends of mine move to another continent, for example :))

Sometimes these changes are hard to discover at first - like starting a new course, a decision to start reading more and visit the internet less...

This photo below was made on August 24, fruits within the pot, fire not yet made.

The fruits are there, the intention to make a compote for the winter is there, but the fire is not yet burning. (Of course, a due fire was burning, the compote was made and it's all over now.)

But more often than not, fires are left unburned. There are things I know I should start and somehow I just don't start them. I don't think I'm alone with this problem, though... I was once told that the fire inside is missing or lacking within me. I have not yet come to terms with this 'verdict', though. I consider myself an ever-going, always-have-something-to-do, write-a-list-to-have-them-all-checked, type of person. Is this inner drive not fire? Are there other types of fires? Am I not able to distinguish between types of fire?

suggested wieving

For the ecologically concerned....

http://www.atomfilms.com/af/content/canvas

Life

A course I might take

The course is called 'The hidden path of East and West: mystic and magical knowledge'.

In anticipation of the course I had the following thoughts on the train, on my way to the first session.

'I am waiting for anything that comes along. I seek knowledge, for I have been gathering knowledge over the years through books, lectures, personal experiences and through similar, scattered sources. The only difference is that now it is regular (bi-weekly) and there is a tutor.

I've decided to embrace all that comes, to let it sink and to select to keep all that fits into my universe. Because that's just about how I've been gathering knowledge so far.

Relevations do come sometime, though. Yes, there were moments/facts/events that shook my universe and made me find a new perspective. I am open to hear or experience things like that, too.

The course will be held by the same person who supervised the meditation I spoke about earlier here.

Talking about my potential attending of the course I mentioned two of my fears to my husband. Both proved unjustified and slightly, if not extremely, ridiculous. You might laugh at me. Here we go. Fear #1. Is it really time for such a course? Is the time ripe enough? Am I no too young? the logical answer, given by dh was that the sooner the better. Quite obvious, isn't it? Yet, there are things that needs good timing. Sometimes you'd like to start or do something and it just never fits into schedule. Some tend to say that when all the circumstances, including you as well (!) are appropriate for a particular thing, that will happen.

But behold! Fear# 2 was even more unflattering. (interruption: I'm attending this course with my MILO.) So, here we go, fear #2:What will my MILO think about my following her trait? Will she think that I'm simply copying her? Ok, you can laugh...

Pointless, unjustified and childish as these questions might seem - I have to consider them for their pure existence. I asked them because I am unsure. These funny questions reveal that I doubt my path. Despite that the fields and issues covered during the course are challenging, appealing to me. They might be a promise of a new horizon. Despite my conviction that this is one of the fields I should move further into. Despite my experience that dealing with and getting close to such knowledge does me good. Despite all pros I am looking for the cons. Is that normal?

My husband's answer to the 2nd question was just a laugh. And I laughed, too.'

And ...'the rest is silence'.

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.