a new pullet in the henyard

UPDATE:

I'm not planning to visit any of the March 15 celebrations. So, there's no need to worry for me :) But, as everyone will be at home during these 4 days, I might not be able to update and/or check your/my blog(s) for this period. I'm sorry friends. Will be back on 19 March. Be well, God bless you all!

UPDATE 2:

Your Animal Personality

Your Power Animal: Eagle Animal You Were in a Past Life: Whale You are active, a challenger, and optimistic. Hard-working, you are always working towards a set goal.

The Animal Personality Test

UPDATE NUMBER 3 (probably the last one, I promise)

You Were Born Under:

Resourceful and practical, you are a quick thinker. You are very observant - and it's hard to get anything past you! A total perfectionist, you are especially picky about looking your best. You're a big dreamer - such a big dreamer that reality can disappoint you. You are most compatible with an Ox or Snake.

What Year Were You Born Under?

This weekend we attended a village fair for ornamental fowl, including, but not limited to chickens, doves and pigeons, peacocks, ducks and, (behold Anniina!), swans.

We wanted to buy some Naked Necked Transylvanian pullets, but there were not any. We fell in love with a wonderful Light Brahma, which, unfortunately turned out to be a cockerel. Too bad. And, we also fell in love with a Cream Frizzle, which, unfortunately turned out to be a rooster. Too bad we noticed it only AFTER buying it (him), AND taking him home. He got into immediate fight with our fairly enourmous barred Rooster - that's how it became obvious for us that the frizzle baby was a rooster, too.... Oh, my. We had to give him away for friends.

But to be honest, I'm not into frizzles, their plumage is not really normal. We bought him b/c the kids wanted it, especially my daughter. She was so sorry to have it let go.

But what did we get? It is a her, for sure. A Satsumadori at that.

introducing Eagle:

Why Eagle? Because of her body and head. She looks like a bird of prey with her long and lean neck, clean face... Even here eyes resemble those of some predators. I love her.

Here's another photo of 3 of our animals. Study the various types of bodies they have. See Eagle's lean and muscular type, Snowball's thick and meaty type and Roo's average body.

And don't you worry if those breed names tell you ain't no nothing.... I've had no idea some of these breeds were even present in our ecosystem... until this village fair this past Sunday... but if you have experience with any of them, do not fear to share. I'm eagle-r to listen to it.

wow - I am the Sunrise

You Are Sunrise

You enjoy living a slow, fulfilling life. You enjoy living every moment, no matter how ordinary. You are a person of reflection and meditation. You start and end every day by looking inward. Caring and giving, you enjoy making people happy. You're often cooking for friends or buying them gifts. All in all, you know how to love life for what it is - not for how it should be.

What Time Of Day Are You?

how did she know?

Two days ago I was working in the kitchen. My kids were playing in the living room. At one moment I heard Rozi (my daughter, aged 7) laughing. I wanted to find out the reason for her giggles, so I approached them.

Rozi (showing the source of fun to her older brother): Read this and you'll see.

Me (perplexed, for she obviously can NOT read, well a few letters here and there, but...she finds fun in something that needs reading??? - curiosity drew me even closer) .

Rozi (coping with giggles):But see, it reads Ru-ma-ni-ya, but the 'y' has been left out...

Killing our sister

Pre-face: I wrote this on 8-10 March, but the inspiration was deeper within. Everytime I see a tree cut out for no particular reason (building new houses, making a parking lot clear included) I mourn over the loss. We, as many other languages in the world call the ecologically concerned greens. We, probably unlike some other languages have a special term for a special shade of green. Imagine a strong and bright, yet incredibly dark green. We say 'méregzöld', or 'haragoszöld', which literally translates into 'angry green' or 'green with a venom'. We do NOT apply this to angry environmentalists, though. But count me as one.
We all saw it coming
Big house, fancy-house
Lots of expensive architecture
Roll-on grass and sprinkler heads
Comfort and convenience
We all saw it coming
Until just one day
A man climbed up the tree and begun killing it

The tree that used to
Fill the spring air with a heavy scent
It used to caress our eyes with her white and pink blossoms
And also it casted shadow in the mid-summer heat
Supplid us with chestnuts, big and small to gather and treasure and
A kaleidoscopic shower of leaves in the fall
She gave it abundantly, not asking for whom it may concern
She gave herself so generously
For anyone with an eye and a heart to accept

And now she'll be gone
For the men working up on her body are strong and brave
For man is strong and brave
And he who conquers nature is a sure winner
And we, the walkers by just look and look away
Denying our lover and mother

Wouldn't it be wiser to shake that man off the tree
Hey, you're killing me - hear him shouting in frantic
And hey, it's you who're killing me
And my friend, and my mother
Wouldn't it be so wise to do this?
And still we walk away and look away

And it is not that man that does the harm
It is us
For we play safe and kill our sisters and brothers
we kill ourselves

on request..well not really, but I'm sure you'll like it

because you'll see some more photos of Hungarian caves.

The location is Tapolca, a small town living mainly on health and weekend tourism on the Northern side of Lake Balaton. As it is raining today here where I live, let me enthrall you with a photo made by someone on a rainy day at Lake Balaton. Credits go into thin air.

Enjoy the seemingly endless silvery surface and the pattern of coulds above. I wish I was there right now. Is it me, being so obsessed with what I see and imagine here in this picture or you find it just as much amazing, too?

So, the story of the Tapolca cave goes like this: A local man back in 1903 wanted to burrow a well in his property. Surprise, surprise, he found the cave! Let me introduce it to you - with the help of some internet-based material.

The Tapolca cave is about 4 kms long. Some 2,5 kms of it is open for visitors. But here's the twist in the plot, literally speaking :) Visitors go aboard boats! Here's some proof for your inpatient minds:

This is our family, my husband at the oars in a white tshirt, two boys behind (one of them being mine), and at the rear end, in a blue sweater it's me...with my daughter in my leap.

Now, back to some scientific and personal facts:
Although most tunnels are created by the hot water, there are dry parts as well. The wet part is accessible by boats, the fee is not very high. One boat takes 5-6 persons and then off you go into the wild - too bad that the journey does not last more than 25 minutes. You are on your own within and under the Earth - and the water is so mind-blowingly clear - you can see the bottom, which is like 4-5 metres away.... It is said that one species of fish (Phoxinus phoxinus L.) lives here in the cave, mind you, I have not seen any. But I was overwhelmed by the desire to take off my clothes and have a good swimming inside. I did not swim however... I was not alone...

So, the cave is famous for its special climatic conditions. With its relative humidity bordering 100%, and a relatively constant 14-16 degrees centigrade annual temperature the cave is suitable for curing asthma, allergy and other respiratory diseases. One of the braches of the cave has been used as a hospital since 1925. Below is a map of the tunnel system.

Above are other visitors.

The water comes partly from outside and partly from hot springs, which are located 300ms below the surface. This results in a reliably stable water temperature. Be it summer or winter, the water is 19 degrees centigrade.

The water system of the cave, at one part is connected to an 'outside' lake, called Lake Mill (Malom-tó). It's water is just as crystal clear and thus attracts visitors. Below are some duck over Malom-tó.

All photos, except the one that includes me, and that of Lake Balaton were made on 28-30 May, 2006 by me.

dripstones

All the following photos were made on 27 January, 2007. These I reserved for this entry for they all depict dripstones. As you probably know dripstones are in constant formation, they keep growing all the time. Once you touch them the growth is over. Most of them are coloumns, growing from the top (stalactites) or from the bottom (stalagmites) of the cave. Sometimes two coloumns coming from both ways meet somewhere in the middle. Sometimes the rock is formed in a way that the onlooker finds special characters within. As in the photo below, there's a lamb. Can you see it?

The photos below display the same formation. The first photo was made without flashlight.

These are found in the Pálvölgyi barlang in Budapest - see the earlier entries labelled 'cave' for more information. The most famous dripstone formations of the present Hungary however, are found in the Aggtelek Dripstone Cave, in the Northern part of the country. That cave system is part of the World Heritage as defined by the UNESCO. The first link takes you to an English photo gallery - it's worth the trip!

games I play

nothing hidden here... It's an entry about games online, PC or real-life, I like to play. This entry was inspired by Anniina :)

Among real-life games I prefer board games such as Catan and any in this series. I also like Cartagena, which is much simplier and easier to play. What makes them loveable? The ability to grow and excel in certain areas while there is space and potential for the other players to grow themselves also. You might not win, but you do achieve things. It's not like the Hotel, when there's one tyranny who takes it all. I dislike Hotel for being rude and teaching being rude.

And, I do like some chess, although being defeated almost all the time does not make it so compelling...

Among PC-games I like the good old Solitaire and any members of his/her (?) family including the Black Widow and Admiral.

And when I'm in a mood for some online gaming, I usually head for Jay, which is a sort of a riview site for a lot of exciting games. My favourite one of the moment is Sprout, a pleasant and surprising journey where the story unfolds according to your choice. It is a one-time game meaning that once you know the solution playing further is not challenging or really interesting at all. It's like a riddle. Once you solve it it's over. But here, the solving is the fun part. The graphics and the feelings involved make it worthwhile. Of the older games I like the Submachine (the link takes you to the second part, but there is a first and a third and a fourth one as well). With the Submachine I like that there is no violence or competition - you are alone and you have to discover the whole plot.

Also, I like doing the so-called 'escape-from-a-room' games, but I usually can't do them without a walkthrough. I am that stupid. Oh.

And there is another great game site I feed on, where most of the games are similar to those I've just described above.

And yes, motas. I love motas. Most of the levels I did without help. Wow. (for some reason the site is down, but keep trying...)

As in Sprout, your decision triggers the development in almost any of these games - the grow theme now has become a genre among the games.

And no, I'm not turning my blog into a reviewer site. Take it as a small interruption.

I hope you liked it, for playing is an essential part of our life. Without playing, without a playful attitude every now and then, we would dry out like some forgotten plant in a pot.

Your turn: What games do you like to play? Have you tried any of those I mentioned? Which board game will you be playing with me when I visit you/you visit my place?

remembering and getting ready for 15 March

Dear all, first let you all get acquinted with what we, the good Hungarians celebrate on the 15th of March. The Hungarians started the Revolution of Independence against the Habsburg regime in 1848. The ignition probably was Petőfi's reciting his poem called the Nemzeti dal (National Song) in front of the eagerly listening thousands of people in Budapest. The wiki site is somehow against us, Hungarians. Read it with caution. Do not believe everything you read as it is NOT fully correct.

This day is a national rememberance day and a bank holiday also. Its significance has been rising since the last few years of the communist regime - people not only remembered the good patriots of 1848-49, but they gathered to remind each other that there is still a dictatorship over the nation, although it's another one, but still a regime. So, the ever-present oppression bodies of our peaceful national movement (read: the rulers of our country) has almost always considered 15 March as a potential outbreak of another 'action' by the people. Participating on a non-official celebration has always been considered as an act against the actual general governing body of Hungary. Since that is more often than not is opposite to the good future of our nation.

This year, it will surely be something special. And I'm afraid the truth will not be available through the general broadcasting channels. The media will talk about 'violent masses' and unfortunate policemen, and later on about 'brave policemen who saved the streets from the ultra-nationalist mob'. Consider me standing on the mob side and you'll have a glance how fair the media is. K? I'm not telling that there won't be not any unintelligent people included who would be looking for a bit of aggressive fun in the streets - those are always there, regardless of the event. I'm talking about peaceful, repeat peaceful protesting mothers, fathers and families, university students and the general public, who will come and join in the day of 15 March for remembering 1848, Petőfi, the National Song. Of course, those people, including me will be united in the will of becoming free of depression of foreign forces, too. But, isn't a real independence is something that what any country would like and deserve?

Remember the video I posted around 23 October?

My husband met a policeman some days ago. He and my husband talked about politics and the policeman turned out to be a good Hungarian. (good, as opposed to errant, ignorant). The following information are coming from this person:

1.) people at the police are not allowed to go on a holiday around 15 March. Or else, they will be inspected by their own bosses and/or repelled from work. The reason? As it seems, a policeman can not officially belong to the so-called right wing of today's Hungary. The police as a body is faithful to the present Government. No right-wing or national approaches are allowed. Liberal or left? (the so called left, that is!!! Go George Orwell, go!!) - that is allright.

2.) the police did purchased those feared new weapons, which they will clearly use against the people in the street. You know, the mob, like me. (being ironic here)

3.) this policeman has clearly has his votes on the so called national side. He will be forced to fight against his 'brothers'.

I might or might not participate but my heart will be with them.

And here's a beautiful translation of Petőfi's poem by Adam Makkai.

National Song
Rise up, Magyar, the country calls!
It's 'now or never' what fate befalls...
Shall we live as slaves or free men?
That's the question - choose your 'Amen"!
God of Hungarians, we swear unto Thee,
We swear unto Thee - that slaves we shall no longer be!

For up till now we lived like slaves,
Damned lie our forefathers in their graves -
They who lived and died in freedom
Cannot rest in dusts of thraldom.
God of Hungarians, we swear unto Thee,
We swear unto Thee - that slaves we shall no longer be!

A coward and a lowly bastard Is he,
who dares not raise the standard -
He whose wretched life is dearer
Than the country's sacred honor.
God of Hungarians, we swear unto Thee,
We swear unto Thee - that slaves we shall no longer be!

Sabers outshine chaine and fetters,
It's the sword that one's arm betters.
Yet we wear grim chains and shackles.
Swords, slash through damned manacles!
God of Hungarians, we swear unto Thee,
We swear unto Thee - that slaves we shall no longer be!

Magyar's name will tell the story
Worthy of our erstwhile glory we must wash off - fiercely cleansing
Centuries of shame and condensing.
God of Hungarians, we swear unto Thee,
We swear unto Thee - that slaves we shall no longer be!

Where our grave-mounds bulge and huddle
Our grandson will kneel and cuddle,
While in grateful prayer they mention
All our sainted names' ascension.
God of Hungarians, we swear unto Thee,
We swear unto Thee - that slaves we shall no longer be!

(March 13. 1848)

The Door is Locked

I came a long way through the meadow and as I'm finding my way back home...sometimes I feel I've reached a level I'd never dreamed of ever attaining, but sometimes I think I'm way early on my journey..the path I'm treading is welcoming me with glory and hardship alike - but right now the gates to move forwards are closed...

I know there is a road behind and I seem to perceive a faint whisper

but I'm stuck and can not unlock the latch

I've enjoyed this part of the maze but I fear it's a dead-end. A funny, challenging, rewarding and awesome at that, but still - I can't see the way now. Once again I met my limits I assume. I feel compelled to roam and seek elsewhere. The first step will probably be to accept my failure?/limitations?/impatience?

Blesses to you whoever and wherever you are...

black and white

For the lovers of b/w photos here's my tip - if you have not visited it yet

in the meanwhile I'm struggling with some ideas I just can't verbalize

When not working, I keep visiting blog-friends, listening some of my fav musics, and walking in the forest.

The snow that had fallen yesterday has mostly gone... but we had our little time for sliding down in the nearby forest. I, yes, even I slid, emitting various forms of hysterical screams and laughters, oh, my... It's so good that nobody, except my kids has been present....

and to support my love for black and whites, here are two photos... by my son in August, 2006.

weekend's over

This photo goes out to all those lovely blog-friends and other people who have successfully completed that bit-of-funny, bit-of-silly, lots-of-revealing test about me, myself and I. Click on it to enlarge its beauty. I captured this lovely creature on one of our hiking trips in April 2006 in the Matra hills. It just sat there right on the middle of road, soaking the sunshine in.

The below photo was also made on the same trip, near a small river. Somewhere in the middle there is my son. He tried to climb up on one of the trees. He climbs up just about everything he feels he needs to. Coloumns, monuments, hills, doors... When we hike and there's something high within reach one thing's for sure: he's into going up. And most of the times he really does - making some (unwanted) hot moments to all those people around...sometimes he gives it up, sometimes it takes a father-y tone to talk him into NOT-climbing...

But when he's up...I'm proud :)))

Oh yes, we, the family have reunited well. The kids teased each other as usually...The parents worked around the house. I planted 11 Anemone bulbs, but stepped back from the idea of sowing anything. It was way too cold. We loaded some firewood from here to there, made plans for the enlargened hens' running area. We are collecting eggs at the moment and are plannig to buy fertilized eggs to make our hens hatch those. This is our present stock.

From 1 o'clock, clockwise:

Hógolyó (Snow-ball), a young, meat-type hen. She already lays many eggs and has a perfect feather-composition for brooding. It means that she has lots of thick and fine under-feathers. Her body is strong and robust. Lepke (Butterfly), a special Hungarian breed called kopasznyakú (bald-necked?), she's middle aged and lays eggs, too. She is more the sturdy type. At 7 o'clock there's our rooster. He has no name yet, apart from Kakas (Rooster). He is young, too and is a good rooster. He's always looking at things and watches his females. His plumage is called kendermagos (speckled, but literally the name translates to 'covered with hempseeds' - it sounds strange to me). At 9 o'clock there's a very old good brooding Japanese hen called Hajas (Hairy). Her name was given for her having a little cap of black feathers on the top of her head. She has a very fragile body and falls onto the ground every time the Rooster springs on her. We all feel sorry for her for having such a heavy partner... And finally, at the middle of the imaginery clock there is Parázs (Live coal), a middle aged laying-type hen. I think the name speaks for itself. She has a thick body with glowing black plumage, with tan/orange feathers here and there.

They are in their small area, and we have to enlargen it if we are to house 20-30 animals in the near future. The area now is so small that we allow them wonder in the garden almost every day. They walk wherever they want. They spend their nights confined so as to protect them from predators.

And finally, here's a close up of the rooster, with Lepke and Hógolyó in the back.

family reunion !

Dear all, I think I'll be away for the weekend - those two who were missing are re-joining us on Saturday, and wel'll be working around the house Sunday.

On Monday however, a someone from my current job is coming over to talk about the job I had to undertake at the beginning of February. We'll talk about future possibilities, payment and my experiences. I think I've decided that which kind of tasks would I do and which would I rather not at this new job.

This co-worker is, as far as I suspect, is coming to convince me to accept and do online and on-phone customer service. Now, this I have done for a solid 3 years uninterrupted (except for a one-week holiday). And this type of job has driven me sometimes mad. People calling at all times. People complaining, people calling me bad names... I'm not telling you it was a horrible job. There were many, many bright moments in that past job of mine. People were thankful for the product, for the things we did, and even for me. Some people were really sorry when I had to leave. What upsets me is that when I remember that job only the bad moments pop into my mind, not the good ones... As if good memories had been taken away...

There might be circumstances *wink, wink* however, where I might be willing to do this type of job again... but...on the 'money vs. feeling normal' battle I think I let the second one win.

And finally, this will cheer anyone up - On with the speakers!

UPDATE: I can not embed the film, I'm sorry! Anyone possibly can help? As I usually have no problems embedding YouTube clips...

Anyway, this is a film on Atomfilms. One of my all-time favourites. This time it's nothing serious or spiritual. It is pure fun. Fun for fun. Enjoy.

someone's missing

I found your bed empty.

Well, I knew you went away, but secretly

was hoping to find you still there.

Now I see you're gone and so is the Sun

and the view from my window.

I look out to find my reflection on the glass -

nothing more.

some recent things - overcome and fulfilled

February 9.

to rest, to find solace in tranquility to let the burdens dissolve in quietness, in sleep is all I'm longing for so I fall into some subconsciuos drowsiness but the blaze at the back of my eyes awakes me and I stare bluntly ahead finding no peace -

February 14.

The Keeper of Fire spoke tenderly, her advice was scarcely audible -

After all, there is meaning.

There is wisdom

for those who seek and even for those who got tired, wated, exhausted and void in the search there is a weaver behind the carpet.

The pattern might seem unclear and devoid of any form or order. But it's because of its extent. and since puilling one single thread results in drawing numbers of other threads as well -finally the whole carpet becomes one entity. It breathes as one. Inhale and exhale. The heartbeats are all part of one single drum. You are woven into the carpet. You are the carpet and the carpet is you. Every part of it is part of you as well.

---

Absorbing these feelings she induced I hardly noticed that the Keeper of Fire has gone. It's not that she left me at all. It's only that she's got more importants duties. I'm done, my questions were answered, my nerves are calmed. She came and went as will be and is available in need. And that is comforting.

A tree - does that sound familiar?

a quiz that turned into a meme. For me, the disease all started with Chris. The next victim was Anniina, and now it's me. Have fun finding out how well you know little facts about me.

For the test, go here!

travelling inside - UPDATED entry

I am not being lazy, I was just occupied looking a bit inside.

In the period between 9 and 20 of February, I attended two kinesiology sessions (one for me, one for my son) and two meditations (one alone in a company of women and one in the same company, but taking my son with me as well.)

I do feel well.

And I sing a lot. I would switch to one of my favourite tunes and would sing along with the singer. One may laugh at me, but singing out loud does good to your soul. Provided that the neighbour does not hear you - so I watch myself so as not to outsing the original version :)

I think I will update sooner or later, but I'm off to do some cleaning in the house. - I'm done with that.

Kinesiology: I'm ever so glad I've started this. The therapist made me look into my past and see the reasons of some burdens I used to carry. For now I believe I have put them down. There are things at least that I can cope better with. Things that I can accept more. These alone were worth the money. It is clearly better for me and so for my family as well. My son? We'll see how he reacts and how he copes with the things he heard there. He takes the drops regularly and does the little mantras regularly, too.

Meditation: It was my 2nd and 3rd guided meditation. If that is what meditation is, then I've been doing it at some subconscious level since like ages :) Somewhere back in August 2006, I participated one guided meditation and now I had similar feelings, especially at the 3rd one, which one was on February 20, and where I took my 10-yo son as well. He did not want to take part, but I convinced him - 'how can you reject a good thing without even trying?' There were two parts and I told him he was allowed to leave in between - but surprise, surprise, he insisted to stay!

It was the kind of meditation when the whole group does the same thing. It is believed/supposed to make the meditation stronger. We both had strange and intense feelings.

Photos by me on January 27. Location: Pál-völgyi barlang, Budapest. Some of the inside photos show dripstone formations.

This is the second update to this single entry. I was thinking of doing this at all - but since I have no other form of written diary, it is inevitable. So, the part from now on is highly personal. You are welcomed to read, but consider yourself having been warned.

Kinesiology: I'm heading towards being content with being a woman. It was not always this way. My parents wanted a boy and although in a subtle and strange way, unfortunately they did express their dissatisfaction. As far as I recall I was made to believe that had I been born a boy, their marriage would have lasted for longer. Which is, as far as I know now is not true. My father and my mother married for they loved each other and love as such, blinded them both. They were unable to see the vast gap between them, in almost every aspect of life. Such is love. This love produced a baby, who thought she had to fit into the world as a boy. Secretly, though as obviously she was born with female organs and female disposition, including being attracted by (and to) men. Still, she thought she had to be and act like a man and befit to the role of a man. That is what she used to think. Now the kin. session has made me see that when I had been high above (pre-born), I had wanted to become a woman. So that's why I became the one who I became. What my parents wanted and wished for is not my trouble. They loved me, they did not love each other. They still do love me in their own special ways, and they still do not love each other. That's why they divorced when I was 12. But as I was upbrought by my mother, somehow, some of the programs of life she uses has been transferred to me. This is rather unfortunate as I have my own life. The second session was about a disposition I learned from my mother, unconsciously, during my years with her. This does not belong to me. My way of life, my loving is different and it should be. I'm still working on it and it helps over the bumps of our marriage we've been experienced in the past six-seven months. This session helps me overcome my jealousy... that tells it all...
Meditation: meditation is exhilarating. It either opens new horizons for me or simply releases the stress. I believe to have undergone an OBE in August 2006 and I think this is just what happened this time, February 19 2007. In the first part yesterday, we had to experience a path bordered by rose-shrubs that lead to a house. The door oopened and there was a man in the door, but I had to remove it as the leader of the maditaion spoke of no person inside. I reckon this as an excercise for sticking to the point. I saw the man, but I had to remove him from the meditation. Then we had to saw photos on the wall and again I saw pictures, but I had to sweep them away in exchange for the images we were told to see. This is did well. On the second part we had to relax at a side of a lake and then go uphill to meet a lama. This meditation was aimed at meeting him as a spiritual helper. We had to ask questions and had to wait and accept the answer. On the way to the hill we had to let go off our physical and emotional burdens in two steps. This is when I felt as if I had been shelled and only a light-brown inner self was left behind. Later on the brown had gone and only a white-ish body remained. It was me, but without the usual body. The outline was the same, but the flesh as seen by my everyday self has gone. It came so unexpectedly. I met the lama and put forth one of the questions (would the political and economical changes come true as it was foretold by the wise?) He said yes. Then I asked my second question (would our house be remodelled before the crisis?) he answered yes. Then I, slightly disappointed asked him whether he was able to say anything besides 'yes' to my questions. And began thinking of other q's. But first of all, one came into my mind. (would the relationship between me and my husband work out for good, finally?) I added that probably this is the most important question of all. And the lama said yes, this is the most important. He reassured me of this q being the most essential one, but he did not said yes or no. Maybe this was his answer that this is the question of questions and this has to be answered before anything. The tone he used suggested that it will be allright and right now we are working on it and that we have to work on it, putting everything else behind. Before the lama and I parted he (according to the instructor) gave me love energy from his heart-chakra. We were told to experience a light blue streak of energy. It came right as a punch into me, wow. Going down on the hill was an easy walk now. I enjoyed every moment of this meditation. And it is always so hard to get out of it - I wish I could stay longer...

If you have come to read this closing line, well, you know something more and something intimate about me. Use it wisely, my friend.

Be well and thanks again for the encouraging words.

a February evening at Poppy street

Pre-words:
I have found the above picture at this place. For more photos, visit IllMan. Thank you!

Take a deep breath and read. It won't take more of your time than writing took of mine. Where does it take me? I don't know. Maybe nowhere. Maybe nowhere else than I aready am. I might as well stop asking stupid questions. I might as well stop writing stupid words. Well, that's what I have.

But Mrs Hopkins, please! - exclaimed Mrs. Willows from the drawing room.
As there was not any answer from the kitchen, Mrs. Willows started looking for the maid in the kitchen, where she had been just a few seconds ago. In fact, it was a bit strange to call her a 'maid', as Mrs Hopkins has been serving the Willows for a good twenty years by now. She was in her late fifties, a well-kept, with a slim and short figure. Some neighbours kept telling there was a secret behind those perfect soufflés and pumpkin pudings, properly ironed and neatly folded clothes Mrs. Hopkins dazzled her bosses with - wherever she went, tidyness followed. Perfect food and clean house were her trademarks. Yet, there was something around her, something more than meets the eye... No one was sure who or where Mr Hopkins was, for example. If there was any at all... But those were just rumours babbled by those who do not have her in their house - assured Mrs Willows when convincing her husband about letting the maid into their old house in the first place. 'Harry, you're being suspicious, a maid is just a maid and this is just what we need at the moment.' - she told him twenty years ago in that foggy February evening.
'It is fog and February again' - Mrs Willows said it aloud, wondering, as if the words themselves, the voice would bring the maid back to the time and space where she had just been. 'But where is she now?' Mrs Willows arrived to the kitchen by now and to her surprise, found the back door ajar. It leaded to the other street behind their house. The lights in the street were already on as the Sun has began descending into obscurity. The door was open. Mrs. Willows stepped out, pulling her robe a bit tighter it was unexpectedly cold out in the evening. There were no traces of Mrs Hoopkins. No sign at all. Unpeopled the street as was, Mrs Willows turned back to the house.
She made her way back to he drawing room, collapsed into the armchair by the fire. She was still there, sleeping when the husband entered the house an hour later.
---
The lady and the maid were discussing details of the forthcoming birtday of Mr Willows. The maid, a Mrs Hopkins then entered the kitchen to shell almonds in the kitchen, and the lady in the drawing room returned to her previous occupation: she was busy calculating the expenses on the basis of her list. It all happened in a minute. First came that horrible stench of sulphur and then there was a sudden lighting. It all took less than a second. Mrs. Willows stood up from by the table and called for the maid. She hoped for some explanation. But there was not any, barring a faint howling and something that easily could be mistaken a laughter. A laughter by the maid? That was too much for Mrs. Willows. Never in the twenty years has she ever heard Mrs. Hopkins laughing. Neither has her husband. In fact, none of the households that took the advantage of having Mrs Hopkins as a helper has ever heard the maid laughing. Or even seen her smiling.

---
The houses of Poppy street were all silent. There wasn't anyone on the pavement or on the road. The new moon was pale. Competition with the gliding Sun was over too much for her fullness. She waited calmy for she knew there would be the time, her time, night time, when the black vastness over the world would be more than anything willing to accept her and her alone. Her time would soon come, she knew that and waited above.
---

no I'm not writing about tomorrow

Topic 1. - February 14.

partly because it is not a tradition in the culture where I grew up and partly because today it is creeping into our world as well, just along with many other, sometimes uselesess crap.

I reckon the day of tomorrow as another opportunity installed by the media into our slow-paced, love-filled normalcy as a reason for spending money and substitute real feelings and affection with artificial and non-wanted objects. Fakeness disgusts me.

I'm completely aware that showing our caring and love is essential in a relationship. Surprising the loved one with idle items, sweets and other delicacies might be something s/he just needs every now and then. But it should not be restricted to one *special* day. Love and show love whenever you can. Some people spend vast amounts of hardly-earned cash on presents for Christmas for someone in the family they do not really like. They buy presents b/c it is the habit. I am against that - and I have also written something similar during Christmas time.

Topic 2. - The Matra Hills

We had a day's hike in the nearby Matra Hills. We joined the group of parents and kids of the local Waldorf school. Some of you might remember that my son has been there for 1 and a half years and we keep the connections alive. We usually go to their hiking tours and visit the special occasions they have in the school.

The photos are of 2006, as I have no digital camera at the moment. Enjoy!

Last year, the tour was on 6 March. We had lots of snow. On Saturday there were patches of snow on the Northern slopes, but nothing serious. This is Rozi, lying in the snow. She would have enjoyed it this year, too.
There are pines near the peak, otherwise it's mainly oak and fir. The Matra is of volcanic origin. There are many villages, which mainly function as health and recreation resorts.
This is the main radio (and tv) transmitter of our country. It s funny how the clouds run behind the station and make the pole leaning towards the onlooker. It is not leaning towards anything of course as it is standing still, but the look gives you this strange feeling.

This is the Southern slope of the hill. It was our destination this Saturday and while the parents enjoyed a well-deserved hot soup in the small restaurant near the peak, the kids played sliding on the ice-covered slope.

This is the official highest point called Kékes. This is also the highest peak of the present Hungary is located in the Matra Hills. It measures 1014 metres. The link on the word 'present' takes the interested kind reader to a Hungarian page about Trianon. I've made this link so as not to forget about this shameful event that tore our many-thousand land apart. Ok, back, from politics - the final picture shows the Northern slope of the Kékes.

Hope you liked it!

Topic 3. My son is back again. For a few days or for more. For home-schooling again? Who knows? We are headed for another kinesiology session I assume. Either way - probably less time for blogging. Take care!

that's why I'm riding the rails

today I had a bad morning in the new job. I seriously questioned whether this kind of job is the one I'm longing for. Money is just face of the thing. I need money - who does not? But at what price? I became so frustrated and angry, too. On top of all, I kind of promised my little Rozi to be present at her swimming lesson at the pool - just as I did a week ago. She's afraid of swimming in the water, which is a bit cold and is past over her height. She's only 7. She needs encouragement. Her mother can't give it to her b/c her mother wants money and this is the job that is available at the moment. When I have translation jobs, I can fit almost anything into my days. I take my time. But this job requires that I spend certain times of the week in front of the computer. Not when I want to, but when I have to. And I hate restrictions. Or, rather put it another way: I hate when I can't feel the necessity of a restriction. Am I to do this job at all?

I have done something similar for three years. Was not that enough? Do I still have to? It feels like I'm returning to somewhere, to a state, to circumstances I've already left behind. I don't feel the need to re-run the sameness of a similar job, similar tasks. I feel confined.

Below is KDLang's 'Riding the rail' - and a compilation of a pictures of a family holiday somewhere in the USA. Hope you enjoy it, too. Her voice is flawlees in any kind of music.
My fav lines are: 'sixty seconds is all I stay' - ' only thing I'm scared of is standing still'
Sometimes I feel like this. Moving, and moving at all costs. No matter where and why - just go, just to be away.

an eco-terrorist in the making

My son came home with the idea of making a bomb by putting baking soda and vinegar into a shell of a Kinder-egg. I was not really surprised. His father used to make various kinds of bombs himself when being a bit tenderer in age - it's up to you to guess whether he (the father) has kept his past activities a secret from his eager son. Yes, the guess was right. He has not.

And so my son made his first bomb - it might be the last one though, he's not really the fighter-type. On a second thought...uhm...maybe... He put the ingredients into the shells, shook them and voilá - they really had sounds, well, not like a bomb, but more like a pop.

After he finished he came back to the kitchen and said one day he would become a terrorist who makes bombs - this is about what he knows about terrorists, anyway. It was me who suggested the idea of becoming an eco-terrorist: were I younger I might likely become one myself.

Below is a picture of him playing with friends in September 2006 - I choose the one blurry photo of this occassion in purpose.

Have you heard of making a bomb with everyday items? Have you made one? Or your kids?

Rozi and the world of stones

Above is a photo of my 7-yo daughter, who, using a flashlight is seeking to find interesting stones and rock formations. She turns 7 on March 25. As I wrote earlier, we visited two of the Budapest caves in January, 2007. Rozi (pronounce as you would say Rosy) enjoyed the first cave so much (she was tired by the time we reached the second) that seh kept running back and forth, lightening the walls every here and there and showing me, and to anyone around all the things she had just found. She was overpleased with just about anything that came into her sight. I love how easily she finds beauty whenever she goes, wherever she sets her eyes on. This disposition of hers is one of the things I adore about her. I wish I could be just as easygoing as she is...
Here, for example, she's pointing at a bright red stone beneath some other nondescript stones. For her of course, those were not *boring, or average ones*. She found them just as equally nice as she liked the red one.
This is a group of 'interestingly white stones' she found behind a larger stone beside the path.
This photo depicts the second cave (The cave of Pal valley, Pálvölgyi barlang), where there is a widening in the path as the stones inside are forming curves. The light comes from a certain point and Rozi soon discovered that she could play with the shadows. She became a dwarf of the cave within a wink of an eye and she began walking with bended back, hands up and curved - and she enjoyed the shadows she'd just created. The second photo shows that she bent her legs, too.
And on the last photo (made in the first cave - Szemlőhegyi barlang, the cave of the Szemlő hill) there are calcite formations that associate layers of other rocks. It looks just like a big zipper that seemingly pulls two sides of solid rock together. It is not a really good picture, the zipper is in the middle, a greyish-white vertical composition between the greenish stones. Trust me it looks better in reality.

Now, I'm off to work so as not to disappoint one of my friends - *winks into (?) PA*

And, there will be more of my photos of the caves. I hope you'll like them. Until that, you might watch some very good photos at the above links.

on light and belief

In one of her recent posts, Anniina has a great compilation of various folktales behind the phenomenon called Aurora Borealis, aka the Northern Light. If you need a whole bunch of scientific reasoning AND great photos, visit this.

This photo below below was copied from the page mentioned above. I chose this among the many wonderful images b/c it shows the constellation called 'Orion' as well. In our mythology, Orion is said to portray the ancient hunter, a leader of Hungarians. It is (also) called Nimrod.

If there has to be a spiritual explanation behind the phenomenon, it must surely be that of the Algonquin Indians'. I love that. The rest of the explanations (esp. those that speak of revenge and bad omen....) just can't be real :)))

I am positive that a belief reflects/describes the believer himself.

This is wrote with the intention of NOT hurting anyone practicing ANY faith - I wrote it as an interesting fact I found. People/nations are different in so many ways and so are their beliefs.

Kosztolányi Dezső - a translation from me

Dear all, I've come accross this short story a few days ago. It found me for no adequate reason so I decided that the encounter was because I had to share it with you. The writer is Kosztolányi Dezső and is called 'Öreg barackfa'. It is literature, although none of the words, word combinations or expressions differ significantly from the language we use everyday. I tried to give back the meaning on the surface and in behind - pls consider it as one of my attempts at translating Hungarian literature into English... Any suggestions grammatical- or otherwise are welcomed. Thanks. Kosztolányi Dezső, as you might have read in the Wikipedia was basically a poet. He did write poetry and although he is not my favourite poet at all, this piece of writing struck me in the heart. Update: Thanks Annina, for the grammatical and stylistic review.

Dezső Kosztolányi: An old apricot tree - a short story.

Mrs. Barber had the flat fixed up this autumn. When all the rooms have been re-painted and cleared up she noticed that the drawing room is still dark. In the courtyard, right in front of the window stood an old apricot. She made up her mind and called for a hand from the neighbours and addressed him:

- Cut this out.

The dayman leant a ladder to the tree and slowly began the sawing.

He started with the head. Large branches fell down, rattling, one after the other. Twigs uttered certain sighs of leaves.

This was when Mr. Barber arrived home.

- What is that you are getting done?

- I'm getting it cut out.

- Why?

- Because it took the light away. See how it becomes lighter already.

- Do you not regret the tree?

- The tree was old.

- How old it is?

- At least twenty.

- For how long do apricots live?

- I haven't the faintest idea.

Mr. Barber went into the library-room, fetched an encyclopaedia. He read out aloud:- 'Apricot. (Prunus Armeniaca). Has an average lifespan of thirty years.' So - he said thoughtfully -, it's just like as it was me.

-Tush!

-Yes, it is. I am now forty. First off comes my head, then my arms and thighs.

-It hardly had any fruits.

-But it blossomed.

-Oh, but you could not eat its fruits. Remember how small and sour those apricots were.

-Yet she bore them each year. Poor old lass. It was not her fault. She was quite diligent, you see. And do you believe that she does not feel all that's going on now?

-Perhaps.

-A scientist in India has discovered the central nervous system of trees. These can communicate. They use signs. It's only we that don't understand them...

The couple went out to the garden. The dayman was pulling out the trunk. The branches and twigs lay there on the ground, with leaves still green. The leaves whispered in the September wind.

- As if the tree was still alive - said the woman.

-It's the hair of the dead - said the man.

Later on, when the whole tree was chopped up and brought down to the basement as firewood for the winter, they both returned to the drawing room.

- It is definitely lighter here - added the woman - Isn't it?

- Sure.

- Positive! Be honest. Have you ever seen so clearly here at seven in the evening?

- No.

-Bessy! - Mrs. Barber called for the maid - It is lighter here, isn't it?

-Oh, really so, Madame.

-Well, wait for the winter. That's when we will really see.

Husband and wife settled in front of the window. They watched the space where the old apricot used to be and where only a fresh pile of ground heaped. They were speechless for a long time.

- Tell me - told the woman - isn't it lighter here?

- Absolutely - answered the man -, it is much lighter.

After that they stopped talking.

They both felt that it was much, much darker now.

new thing on the horizon

Two people called me in my house. We had a pre-set interview to talk about my potential new job. It seems similar to the one I'd been doing for 3 years for another company. It involves summarizing incoming orders, deciding on delivery routes and this is it for the beginning. I am unsure about whether I want another job like that again or not.

Thing is I've already accepted it, I'm on a 'trial' week - let's see how it goes. In the first period the job would take like 2 hours per week of my precious time.

Honestly I feel like this:

the hunter and the calling

UPDATE: Thanks Blogger's new version, thank you so very much. I can not make comment on my own site. Congrats, really. I hope it is a temporary thing - and anyway, it is free and what the heck can I do? So. I. Am. Content. I. L.O.V.E. Blogger. I do.
For a more serious update:

The first poemlet in this entry was inspired by a walk in the nearby forest. I love it to bits - the forest and the thing I wrote just equally :) The second one however, comes from somewhere deeper within. I feel that it has always been within me and that it is not the first and never near the last version of my verbalization of that feeling behind. For me it is clear that this time the song Barefoot evoke it. I also feel that it is not complete and not mature yet - but you know how is it with the full moon.... No, I'm not turning into a werewolf, thankyouverymuch. Hee-hee.

The hunter

the light's sliding down on the skin of trees
sharp shadows creep into the forest
the air settles into stillness
heartthrobs within awake me
doo-thump doo-thump-thump
dusk sets in among the barks
I feel hunger
gut evokes blood
vein urges muscles
my feet start to stir
and I rise quietly
heartthrobs within
doo-thump doo-thump-thump
the hunter has arisen
and off I go for another prey
in the deep
doo-thump doo-thump-thump

---
this is K.D. Lang singing Barefoot - the clip version.



---
The calling

I was lying comfortably after a good dinner
My body relaxed I watched around and blinked
I felt the stillness and peace of the night
And I felt prepared for the long rest
When in the blankness a calling is what I heard
a howling from behind the dense backwoods
I know I must be up and go
So I stretch my legs, sway my body with care
And start my path among the bushes towards the meadow to see
where the noise comes from
The trees unfold to let me pass
And the light gets ever stronger from above
From time to time I inhale the scent of the track
to see how far can I get, but it tells me it's all safe
So I gallop past the last few shrubs over the edge
to finally I reach where I was headed for
the open field is floating with glee
I find the source of light, a silver beam finds me too -
I sit on the ground to join my fellows