our daily bread - take it literally

This is how I make our daily bread. I am sorry for the quality of some of the upcoming photos, as almost all the photos were made by my left hand AND I am a right-handed person.

The first step is: Preparation.

All the ingredients and necessary equipment are put on the kitchen table. Flours, a spoon, scales, a large bowl.

Also needed: some liquid. It can be water. Alternatively, I mix water with some kind of milk - be it sweet or sour, yogurt or kefir. More often than not, we have at least one of these types of milks at home. The liquid is in the pitcher (in the above pic, at 11.) What you see in my hands is the key factor in making a home-made bread. The point is that is NOT yeast. It is very much like dough, as described here. But in my case (and it is the same as bread has been made at home over the thousands of years of human history) actually it is a piece of the last bread I made. I tear it out before baking the bread and it is stored in the fridge - until the next bread is prepared. The first time I made bread I got this piece from a girlfriend. Friendship spreads this way :)

Step 2. Putting the ingredients into bowl. In the first photo, you saw various kinds of flours. I often mix flours to make bread. We have spelt (fine and whole-grain) and winter wheat (fine) and rye (fine) flours at home. All these are organic. Recently I have bought a small package of pumpkin flour (not organic) to give occassionally some special flavour to the bread. Pictured is the making of a ryebread hence are the seeds. As you probably know, ryebread's got its distinctive flavour by the adding of caraway seeds. In the centre, there is the 'dough' - freshly taken out of the fridge. Not visible, but inevitable: salt and oil. Don't forget about them.

Step 3. Put all unnecessary things away from the table. While your hands are clean :)

Step 4. Working. You add the liquid of your choice in little amounts and swirl around within the flour mixture. The 'dough' becomes larger and larger as you do this. It seems that it takes up the fluid and combines it with the flour. As it grows bigger, you might feel the need to put more and more energy into the making. Below are the first drops of water enter the mixture - the 'dough' is not really bigger than it originally was.

Now the 'dough' has taken up almost all of the fluid. The process of working is nearing its end.

At this time more energy is needed on your part. Depending on the amount of flour, of course.

Some more pushing and pulling - avoid the strap of the camera from getting dirty (in case you're picturing making bread, that is)

This one below is a nice picture. It indicates that the mixture is ready: it comes off of your hands and the bowl is almost clean as well. Note the caraway seeds within.

Step 5. Wash your hands. Put the lid on the bowl, or cover it.

Step 6. Wait. Depending on the temperature, the quality of 'dough' and flours, the amount of bread and on your patience, waiting may take sometime between 2-7 hours. The more the better generally applies, but one can over-rise the bread. This might result in a really fermented, sour and sticky raw bread, which is really hard ot work with in the final phase. During waiting you can do anything. Go work, clean the house, have a rest - you might even go to a night's sleep.

Step 7. Preheat the oven. Prepare the pan by spreading a non-adhesive paper on the bottom.

Step 6. Put a little 'dough' away for the next bread. Inevitable step.

Step 7. Place the bread into the pan. When I make a double amount, that is, two breads: to avoid them from baking into one another, I cleverly put a paper roll, covered with non-adhesive paper all over, between the two raw breads. I'm so clever I invented this! Ok, I know I did not, but for myself, yes, it was a problem I solved.

Unfortunately, this is not in the pictures. I think I put it between them after I made the photo...

Step 8. Slice with a knife so that the air that is produced during baking can leave the bread. Without slices, the gas tends to find its way trhough the raw bread anyway - resulting in a torn apart, ragged appearance of the end product.

Step 9. Place into oven. Don't forget to put in the paper tube - my clever intention!

Step 10. Baking takes about an hour. Depending on the amount of bread, the heat, and the way you like your bread.

Step 11. Enjoy. I suggest putting the hot bread on something that allows airing. Otherwise the hotness results in dampness at the bottom of the fresh bread.

Step 12. Once cooled off, slice the bread to taste. If you have seemed to have made more bread than you directly need, don't hesitate to freeze it. I always do that. The result? One-day 'old' bread, fresh bread all the time...

Next session: what to spread on the bread. If you follow me, you'll see that too.

to a hawk

I hear your calling

you talk to me without words

touch me without hands

look at me without eyes

I feel your presence

you are here without a body

creep inside amd make me

weep without tears

the circles are getting wider

as I draw higher up above

seeing more

wanting more

I am released like a bird from a cage, again

a photo quiz

UPDATE -

The little quiz below has a winner and I will soon post the photo to prove.

We seem to have started another part in building our house. We are covering it with isolation units - to give a house a protection against loosing its heat during the wintertime and getting overheated in the summer. The units are fixed on the walls from the outside with a simple method. My husband does the job and I'm helping him.

The kids are around as usual.

And now about the quiz.

The question is as simple as this:

WHAT'S THIS?

Submit your answers among the comments.

look at the sky

New Moon and her standard companion, planet Venus. Photo made in our garden, on 18 June.

ignis fatuus

the tunnel is covered in smooth velvet walls
dark green as the northern sides of trees within friendly woods
the path is even and easy, welcoming your humble feet
and the end is visible and clear, glowing with shine -
oh my dear, yes it's time you woke up.

Photo by me in September 06, The Netherlands.

how is YOUR blog rated?

According to Mingle2's evaluation....

According to Mingle2: 'This rating was determined based on the presence of the following words:

pain (8x)
dead (3x)
death (1x)'.

Thanks Melly, for the idea!

Midsummer

Have a happy celebration!

I will be away for a while - I'm going on a one-day trip to Lake Balaton on 23 June (I promise there will be some photos), my mother and her husband are coming over between 24 and 27 June, and basically, I need to get some time out.

Those who are careful enough might have noticed that I have started another site in which I wish to monitor my way to creating something of a short story - not that I work much with that... But that's what I aspire to. Although -

Time and kids and husband.

Impede.

Demand.

Too much.

Need to get some time out.

Have fun while I'm away.

Here's U2's One - I liked it when it first came out but started to get the meaning of it a bit later and now I feel it describes my own life and especially my partnership...not that this realization makes me happy at all - I'm rather sorry to see it.

The eight random facts meme

Allright. I was tagged by Beth some time ago and I wish to supply you with all these unnecessary information about me...

1. Although my skin is never white (say, it's yellowish in the winter and bronze-ish in the summer) and my hair is long, a bit wavy and rather really black than brown, my eyes are blue. This fact about my eyes usually surprises those who have not really cared to look into the eye and have only a faint recognition of my overall complexion.

2. I prefer cold weather to hot anytime. I can enjoy hiking at degrees below zero, but when it reaches above 25 C, there's nothing much to do around for me, really.

3. I have a strange way to numbers and regularity. When I work (at home) I measure my time spend working in 15 minutes. For each 15 minutes I put a sign into a printed schedule that shows the hours of the day, divided into 15 minutes. Basically, this is how I measure the amount of time I work - for I am paid on a time-basis. When I do aerobics at home, I count everything. Whatever excercise I'm doing I'm doing 10-15-20-25 of that. I can't and won't do, like 13 of situps. That sounds nonsense to me. I do either 10 or 15. Talking of excercise, I do it almost everyday, do 30 minutes almost everday and do it almost always between 9,30 and 11,30 AM. I've been even known for cancelling appointments that would collide with that daily routine. But behold! We have monthly meetings with my husband, when we assing duties for the coming month and evaluate the completion of tasks assigned for the past one. We've been doing it for 10 years now and it is really interesting to look back at things of the past. 'See? We had been unable to fix that curtain for 6 months!! Bwah-hah-hah!!!'

4. I used to have a Gordon setter. I called her Niki (pronounce as Nicky). I walked her a lot and so I did while we were hiking. At one time she caught a baby mouflon. We were on a three day-hike with my husband so we kept the flesh and had it for dinner over open fire. I also took her to traning lessons and trained her myself as well. She was an eager learner, lover of woodlands and a very disloyal company. Anyone who offered a larger chunk of food was her best friend at any given moment. I took her to Dog Shows as well. I bred her, had my own kennel name, which is now my password to my blog account - so don't ask for it.I loved doing this, but I doubt I will ever have a dog again.

5. In wintertime, chopping firewood is one of my favourite activity. It is excellent for releasing stress. Also it is useful, for our house is heated with wood only. Also, it strengthens my hand muscles to a level that leaves male visitors impressed.

6. I am addicted to the Internet and to my PC in general. I have to take serious measures on the daily basis to avert myself form sitting in front of the monitor. What do I do? Reading blogs, playing online games, writing..... When I'm not on the net, I enjoy my other life just as much and really can get involved in life, but distraction is not easy.

7. I had the chance to visit the Grand Canyon in 1991. We were a group of 9 people, travelling in a Chevrolet station wagon. I usually sat on the furthest back seat, with lots of baggages, but no human else. When we arrived to the parking lot, everyone hurried out to go and visit the 'Nice Hole'. I said everyone and meant everyone but me, for I was unable to leave the car: I was reading a novel and was on the last pages and was unable to leave the story behind. Even if the alternative activity was visiting the canyon, I stayed in the seat until I finished reading. The novel that outshone the canyon was Madeleine L'Engle's 'A Swiftly Tilting Planet'. The beauty of the Grand Canyon utterly impressed me, nevertheless....! And I wish to return.
8. So far, so good... I have managed to collect facts that are either interesting, or sort of funny. At least nothing gloomy and really bad... Okay, let's give it a try. I'm a hermit-type of person. I like inviting people to my house, making them feel allright, have an entertaning couple of hours, and also I like being invited to parties and/or hike around in the wild with people, but if I'm asked, 90 of 100 occasions I would prefer being alone anywhere anytime to being with anyone.

There you have it. Pictures were 'taken' from the internet - except for photos for 1, 2 and 5

Summer

Summer, you liar

you make me believe you'd stay in my garden

and in my soul forever

and this lush fabric of life'd grow and bloom

into infinity

that my bones'd be heated by the ever raising Father

our Sun above

and summer, you fake lover, you make me forget

just about everything

but you

on summer food and water management

Last weekend we were having fun at a small village called Bogács. If you take a look at the Hungarian page of the famous spa, you'll get an image of what it is like. The village is based on spa-tourism. The main attraction is the special mineral warm water, which is said to cure many diseases, especially those of the locomotory, rheumatic and some gynaecological kind.

People can come all year round for a treatment, for there are pools with 'average water' as well.

Kids spend hours in the kids' pool. And what do people eat?

In Hungary, the standard menu on a place like this is icecream, pancakes (those are not pictured) and the scone. (called lángos in Hungarian, pronounce like luhn-ghosh). It is made of raised dough, something similar to the dough of bread, but it is fried in oil.

It is always served salted and hot (I don't mean hot as spicy, but as really, really warm)

You can top it with meshed garlic, that is the traditional kind, but grated cheese melted on the hot scone also satisfy your needs.

Here they are:

topped with sour cream and grated hard cheese

and this above is the simple one, with meshed garlic.And this is how it is eaten:
What else did you expect?

Besides scones, the fish and chips is also a sort of must-have at a spa. This is how we have it in Hungary.

And now, on to the topic of water management. Fish are considered a rarity in today's Hungarian cuisine in Hungary. While an average member of the EU consumes 22 kg of fish a year, the same figure for an average Hungarian is only 2,8 - one third of which is eaten before and around Christmas.

But it was not always the case. The Carpathian basin is full of rivers. The reason we consume less of this extremely healthy animal is not that two-third of the territory was cut off some 80 years ago - no, the signs of bad started much earlier.

Our main rivers, especially the Tisza, used to have an extensive system of backwaters. It surely did not allow for a quick water-based transport and due to regular, annual floods much of the land was unsuitable for arable management. During the late XIX century, much of the bends were straightened and much, if not all, of the prevoius floodlands were turned to agricultural areas. Consult this old map. The strong lines detail the present bed, whereas the dim arches show where the river used to be. Dim striped areas used to be floodlands.

Kudos, then?

Not so very much. Water management did speed up the flow of the river, making navigation easily available and faster. There were more areas to grow wheat or corn on. So? So?

The fast river still floods each year, washing away number of houses in certain years.

The ecosystem was seriously hurt - although the past long decades after the management were enough to allow for the estbalishment and slow development of a new one. I am not an ecologist, I've heard it from a friend, who is. The following short explanation is based on what he said to me:

'Flood, and the numerous branches and bends of Tisza were used by the people living there. They used to cut off certain parts of the river only to release it later on again and they bred fish. Various types of freshwater species. A whole cultural system was built upon the circumstances. The equipment they used were special, too. Fish were available in abundancy. People had fish, perhaps every day. Eating healthy fish was not restricted to some summer weekend when the family goes to a spa. Now we have to raise fish in artificial ponds. We are even stooped to import fish from whoever-knows-where. Managing backwaters and bendlets, raising fish on a daily basis, providing a smaller community with food used to give a natural and healthy and all-year occupation to many. This is what the lovers of the River Tisza weep for.'

I hear this man. And his love for Tisza caught me, too.

update: I'll be away for the weekend. Will be back when I have time to write. I'm planning to do the 8 strange things about you meme, for I have been tagged a good fortnight ago by Beth...

a what?

Let's play.

I invite you to present English words, expressions and/or sentences that read the same from the front as from backwards. What did I just mean?

Palindromes.

Here are my versions (with my lame translations in brackets and italics)

--- Erős a sas őre. (the eagle has a strong guard)
--- Erőszakos kannak sok a szőre. (the agressive male has lots of hair)
--- Az a hat ló Bartókot rabolta haza. (these six horses captured Bartók home)
--- Indul a pap aludni. (the priest is going to sleep)
--- Indul a görög aludni. (the greekman is going to sleep)
--- Indul a kutya s a tyúk aludni. (the dog and the hen are going to sleep)
--- Géza, kék az ég. (Look, Géza, the sky is blue)
--- Leventét nevel. (he's raising a fighter)
--- Réti pipitér. (THIS IS NOT translation: this is the name of a flower that actually exists)
--- Goromba rab morog. (the impolite prisoner is grouching)
--- Csak a mama makacs. (only mommy is obstinate)

But hear the LONGEST palindrom in Hungarian:

"Kis erek mentén, láp sík ölén, oda van a bánya rabja, jaj Baranyában a vadon élő Kis Pálnét nem keresik."

This is a silly sentence, though a Hungarian speaker can completely understand it. No word-plays or slangs or really rare words. Maybe, some poetric images.

Here's my translation:

'Beside small creeks, on the heart of marshlands, the prisoner of the mine is gone, oh, the nomad wife to Kis Pál, is not sought after in Baranya anymore.'

Applause.

an evening story to Hajas

The mother Hen was walking along the edge of the forest with her chicklets. They were all enjoying the fresh grass and everyone picked on the wild flowers, too. Once they saw that curious little chiklet that came out of the bushes. It was so sparkling and colorful. 'Oh, you must be the Princess of Chickens, for your plumage is so full of colors' - they said the new chicken in amazement. 'Yes, I am' it answered. 'And you must be the chicken family that lives in the village down there'.
'Please, come and have dinner with us' - the family invited the Princess.
They all walked down to where the Hen and her chiklets lived. There were plenty of seeds there. And they tasted the corn in the yard. They ate so much they fell asleep. Everyone slept in the henhouse and let the Princess slept on the highest rod.

Photo: by me on 7 June, 2007. Hajas's name is to be pronounced as 'Huh-yush'

I ran over a noodle because I'm a Ninja!

PRE-WORD:

this is to satisfy my readers, including myself. For it is fun.

PLUS, this is one of the stupidest, simpliest things I've ever read on a blog. And one of the funniest, too. Tell me your sentences - into the comments section.

Pick the month you were born:

January------I kicked

February-----I loved

March---------I karate chopped

April-----------I licked

May-----------I jumped on

June----------I smelled

July-----------I did the Macarena with

August-------I had lunch with

September---I danced with

October------I sang to

November----I yelled at

December----I ran over

Pick the day (number) you were born on:

1- ------a birdbath

2-------a monster

3-------a phone

4-------a fork

5-------a snowman

6-------a gangster

7-------my cell phone

8-------my dog

9-------my best friends' boyfriend

10-------my neighbor

11-------my science teacher

12-------a banana

13-------a fireman

14-------a stuffed animal

15 -------a goat

16-------a pickle

17-------your mom

18---- ---a spoon

19------- a smurf

20-------a baseball bat

21-------a ninja

22-------Chuck Norris

23-------a noodle

24-------a squirrel

25-------a football player

26-------my sister

27-------my brother

28-------an ipod

29-------a surfer

30-------a llama

31-------a homeless guy

Pick the color of shirt you are wearing:

White--------because I'm cool like that

Black---------because that's how I roll

Pink----------because I'm NOT crazy

Red----------because the voices told me to

Blue----------because I'm sexy and I do what I want

Green---------because I think I need some serious help

Purple--------because I'm AWESOME!

Gray----------because Big Bird said to and he's my leader

Yellow--------because someone offered me 1,000,000 dollars

Orange -------because my family thinks I'm stupid anyway

Brown--------because I can

Other---------because I'm a Ninja!

None----------because I can 't control myself

you helped me out with this poll

June 8 th FRIDAY UPDATE and END RESULTS

I would like to thank everyone for their contribution to this little survey. It appears that 5 readers have found the test interesting enough to tell me and the whole world the reason(s) for READING blogs.

If you still wish to express your opinion, scroll a little below and pick your choice(s).

If you want the results, here they are:

Out of 5, 3 people voted that the main reason for reading a blog is EITHER looking for virtual friendship OR looking for fun and light-hearted stuff. And those take 60% of the readers.

These were the more prominents reasons, but again, this is not a world-wide survey, you know.

Other reasons of importance were looking for interesting, inspiring material AND looking for something to spend my spare time with (this one cracked me up a bit, to be honest) AND also looking at different cultures and lives of faraway people. All the aforementioned 3 reasons were important for 40% of the voters.

The least important aspects were looking for some deep thoughts to chew on and looking for nice photos, and the 'other' option. These were only chosen by 1-1 of my readers.

I did NOT voted in this poll, but my preference would have been, and still is:

1. I'm looking for interesting, inspiring material that makes my mind going.

2. I'm looking for some deep thoughts to chew on.

3. I'm looking for virtual friendship.

And this is not supposed to mean that I reject fun stuff, which I don't. And also, I'm just as much interested in the lifes and thoughts of people living all around the world and the next door ... :-)

Below is the original post and the poll. If you are new to this poll, go ahead and let your opinion be heard.

---------

There has been a slight misunderstanding between me and a fellow blogger. She claimed that people visit blogs CHIEFLY for they seek an easily digestible form of reading. Being a smart writer herself, I really doubt her reasoning.

This is a MULTIPLE-CHOICE poll. So, you can choose any answer(s) that fit(s) you the best. Also, there is an option for 'Other' - where you can write whatever reason(s) you have. Thanks for cooperation!

Update: I have not voted in this poll. If any of the options seems unclear, please let me know so that I can clarify it.

definitely summer

We have two more weeks of school. It feels like summer. The invincible smell of strawberries rises up above in the morning even in streets with cars...

The heat reaches the bones and purges the last reminescent of winter out of your body. Or does it make you recall it even more? Or does it make you feel you're storing up energy for the winter yet to come? But where would that be you wonder...

The late afternoon campfires with bacons' sizzling on rods is one of summer's best attributes.

I guess some of you'd find roasting and eating bacons disgusting - or at least...strange.... ?

It is sort of a habit over here to have them sliced up and pushed into rods - they are simple and quick to make. Kids enjoy it pretty much.

The fat goes into the bread which is eaten with lots of spring onions, tomatoes and salads - basically with whatever 'green' the garden can offer. Yesterday I had mine with basil for example. Most people do not eat the bacon itself, but we do.

clearing all up - or messing again?

In a post about my relationship to writing in English and the problems and joys it involves I had a sentence that left my careful readers unimpressed. Rightly so, for it was not written with the greatest care plus it was quite long. Funnily enough, the entry was about expressing one's ideas in a different language, about making one understood, about matching one's ideas with one's physical life.

The sentence:

Thinking shapes one's attitude towards life and when the net of thoughts just does not fit the net of actions one is to encounter on a daily basis one feels uneasy - at the very least.

Now, before I start handing out some explanation, let me kindly remind us all, that 1.) I am not a linguistic expert and 2.) it was a sentence in a context. If you have not read the original entry, I advise you to go back and read it (again).

Now, with a slightly dead-brain - oh my, I do have to allow myself to declare to be tired and out-of-my-bests, I do have to learn doing this, so...

The entry was about how writing English leads me to thinking English - I bet that is all clear for us... If you are to gather your thoughts and pour them into words, you ought to have them in the same language. Otherwise your thoghts get lost and/or tangled inbetween translation. I learned translation and I also learned that it never means putting the equivalents of the words (in the other language) into the same order as they were in the original language. Translators must feel the text as a whole, must get the whole idea behind the lines.

If one keeps thinking using one special language in one's head - that is ok. That is just about everyone does in the world. Not a big surprise. It's one's original language. Or so it must be, I suppose. Basically this is the same language one uses to communicate with the people around.

If one has a language in the head, but has to use another one for getting around in the outside of the head that must be a burden. Ideas in the head, feelings arosen within are all connected to a language, but when these must be shown to the outside world, translation has to step in. And there comes the uneasiness I referred to - for it is nice to be able to translate all those things, but wouldn't it be nicer to NOT HAVE to translate them at all?

Languages on the other hand, do have an influence on one's mind. It's a sort of an egg-hen problem - you know, the which was first type of problem. Some languages are see things and events of the world as a part of a big scheme, therefore their sentences are chiefly made up of coordinate clauses. Was it a bunch of people that had this vision that made up such a language or was it the language that formed the people?

Oh my, I feel like I'm getting lost in my sentences again...If anyone has followed me until this point, well, have my congratulations...

Some other languages (or bunch of people - see how I try to avoid mentioning words like 'nation') prefer order above all, for the system is more important, the relationship between thing is more important than the WHOLE scene in general. These languages are filled with sub-ordinate clauses for example. When the sentence clearly defines the role of one particle in relation to the other.

If you're still with me, have my sympathy....

Let's suppose one is coming from the big scheme language, with her mind set to thinking in generalities, with her mind seeking the role of a particle within the big scheme - let that be me, to be honest...

Take this someone into a world of subordinates and she'll find it hard at first, not that really hard at second and... She begins writing and thinking in this language, things are changing within her brain...yet she still lives in the same environment...where all the members of her family and all the friends she can get in real touch with are thinking the same 'old' way - at the same time she has entered into friendly relationships with people on the other language...

Okay, I'm lost.

I'd rather be cleaning up the hen house.

I'm glad to have you as friends.

And I might return with my ideas on the subject, but now... not now.

*headed for the chicken house - supplying animals with fresh hay* Is there anything better in the world then gathering hay and spreading it over the floor of the house?

Do you have to write anything and read anything and learn anything at all? When you can make animals happy and make yourself feel needed by such simple deeds?

Oh, my.

I'll be posting a reference to the state I've been recently - and the way I found some way out :)

by your help again, of course...

See? I can't, I just can not tear the two apart. But at the moment, it does not bother me.

Thanks for listening.

I guess this was just as much incomprehensible as the original sentence I started with.

Wasn't it?

Tell me - Have no mercy on me - be honest.

A cherry-ladder

keep looking for a different perspective

This one goes out especially for Melly, but for anyone else who likes to take a look at things at another angle...

the way home

I walk towards home
a dark hole in some dazed obscure water
swollen crocodiles along the trail
their dead bodies sway in the grass
blue butterflies among the blades
my legs stiff, frozen and heavy

the air is oozy and as I wipe the non-existent moist from my forehead
I wipe off memories of you, too
I can't take it anymore
wake me up
for I need a lust for life
but my eyes close themselves

small and invisible
behind my eyelids, I am safe
a hideout for the misplaced-
it comforts me.
Curtains dropped, the journey begins
and each time I pray for not to
be here, be me, be, in my time again
how pathetic

I do not really wish this
being ripped off, detached hurts me even more
this is the only pain I feel
I wish I was alive instead -
the nearer I strive to Heaven the closer I get to Hell

writing in English - to Beth

UPDATE:

since Blogger ate my precious photo, I decided to put music here instead. Music by Jane Siberry. Matches my current mood. How good is that, to find a music that suits you.

If I got it right, Beth, commenting on the piece of path revealed below, asked about the difficulties of producing such *pretty* fragments of writing in a language that is not someone's basic/mother one.

(Basically, I am overwhelmed by the encouragement and praise I get for the things I write. This one from Beth is no exception to that.)

Now, this question is a good one.

As you probably know, I started writing this blog in Hungarian, but when I noticed I had international visitors I decided to enable them to communicate with me by letting them know about me and my feelings. So, I had to switch to English.

Writing in English allows me to improve my knowledge of this second language. Sometimes I translate Hungarian prose or poetry by my own and some of my friends help me upgrade these translations.

When I was a teenager I wrote some *coughs* poetry in Hungarian. After due consideration, one might say that some of my English *poems* are better than those I wrote back some 15-20 years ago in my own language. Why? Another mistery. I realized pretty early that I don't measure up to the Hungarian poets I admire. That's when I stopped writing in Hungarian.

Blogging somehow developed into a combined writing. I decided to mirror my soul and spiritual path here. At present, 'Forest thoughts' is the place where I let my graphomaniac self freely out. I shared one of my *poems* just recently with a highschool girlfriend of mine and I remember the shame I felt when I confessed that I wrote these in another language. She said she did not mind it and liked that thing anyway :) She was kind to me I guess.

Writing in English involves thinking English and here come the difficulties.

For it results that at times it makes me feel detached, at other, schisophrenic, at some insignificant others still, a genius. These latter do not last very long, though - don't get me wrong, please :)))

And to answer my friend's question - it is easy, for it entertains, educates and inspires me. I love finding matching photos to mood-inspired writings and some of my writings were inspired by photos, too. Also, it is very hard because you can not always be sure about the meaning and what your selected words convey to the reader. Will s/he get the same impression? Will my range and pick of words and expressions mislead him/her? If I tailor my inner self to a language how will it affect my outer life, that is my life when not writing?

In fact I have come to a point where writing in English has started taking its tolls on me. And in not a good way. And that is sad. For I like writing. And writing in English, too.
For the past days I have been considering giving blogging up. Or giving up writing. Or giving up writing in English. Thinking shapes one's attitude towards life and when the net of thoughts just does not fit the net of actions one is to encounter on a daily basis one feels uneasy - at the very least.

Beth, was this answer satisfactory?

For those who are concerned, and for the time being, I decided NOT to give up either blogging, or writing. But I will have to work out the things for me.

surreal sky

the Sun slices through the fortress

projecting faltering clouds

underneath my feet

as I walk pass the hurdles on the track of trees

I smooth along reality

to which I no longer belong

walls are fading away -

light here I come
take me in

for the weekend

I'm supplying your hunger with more chicky photos. Here, enjoy

At the top (beheaded): Inky, on the second row: Ball and Seed, and the second beheaded animal is Icecream. They just keep growing and starting to find their place and role in the big flock. They are about 4 weeks old now. Industrial chickens are slaughtered at week 6 for a juicy meat. Our ones simply do not reach that desired weight. Guess why. They never get anything besides green fodder, some bugs they dig out from the soil, water and seeds of course. The natural, almost organic management keeps them going at this pace. Let me tell you nothing about how that desired weight is gained, then. See them running in our back garden! Aren't they a herd?

They still keep following their mother... Note Inky, who's almost completely black and has a slender figure. We assume this to be a pullet and also that she genetically is a daughter of the hen. Also pictured in the photo are Cloud, Ball, Icecream, Caramel, Seed and Mouse.

But look here! There's a mismatch of colors. There is a cream fluff under a hardened brown surface! Yes, that is Snowflakes, baby to the late dear Snowball and his/her brooding mother, Eagle.

And I saved this for the last: A two old Turken delight. This coloration will turn barred later on.

Bye for now!

on chicken and the flow of life

Part of the flock. Clockwise from my husband: Mag (Seed), Fagyi (Icecream) and two other chicks, Roo, Hajas (Hairy, the brooding hen), Lepke (Butterfly), an unnamed black chick, Felhő (Cloud) and Caramel, the only brown one among the kiddy chicks.

The kids are occupied. This is one of their flying lessons. The hen is encouraging her babies to follow her up. All, but two followed her - after some or some more hesitation. The smallest two took a detour on foot instead.The chicklets have reached the ripe old age of 4 weeks. Here they are! Most of them are black-ish. There are two who have the definite barred pattern. They are Mag (Seed) and Egér (Mouse). The one with the black head is called Korom (Inky). There are two with a white-ish plumage. One of them is completely white (Fagyi-Icecream), the other has darker colors on its back (Gombóc - Ball).

This is a close-up of Fagyi (Icecream). Note the big comb. This might indicate that it is a rooster. Also note that the baby cream-yellow color has almost completely gone. It's turning white day day the day. He is a wandering type, drifting further from his mother and his fellows than the rest. He's my son's favourite chicken.

And just at the very same day, we had a second hatch in 2007. The 'mother' of this litter is Sas (Eagle), who was introduced a mere two month ago into our henyard. This time we bought fertilized eggs from a local Research Insitute for Small Animals. We bought 13 Turken eggs. And we added one egg of the late Hógolyó (Snowball), whom we had to slaughter for bad skin condition. She (Snowball) was Roo's favourite mate and her back was bare and sore. Unfortunately we had no chance to separate her from the rooster - but even if we had, her skin would have been just as much exposed when we had put her back among the flock again...so, with aching heart, we sent Hógolyó over to the heavenly meadows...

But one of her eggs was a promise for a continuation...

During brooding, some of the eggs have broken. And finally the day came and here they are! The golden one, as you know will turn white and since his/her neck is covered it is the kid of Hógolyó. Therefore its name: Hópehely (Snowflakes).

Unfortunately enough, there were only two other chicks that reached hatching age - the others all died within the egg. The reasons? Unexperienced hen? Too many eggs under a hen? Time will tell - we are gaining experience as well... this image is of an unborn chicklet. Note how compactly it is folded within the egg...

We showed the unborn to our kids, who studied it with care and respect... here's my son imitating the position of a chick within the shell.

But those that are alive are smart Turkens.

I suppose one is black and the other will be a barred one.

Snowflakes is thick and yellow, like a ball. One, a potential black Turken is under Eagle's head and beak and the third is the barred one. Those tiny caps of feather make these Turkens so adorable.

if I were a rich man - a meme

As an introduction, here's a proof of me not being a filthy rich person. Presenting the upper western corner of our living/children/bed-room below. But before you consider sending us money over to mend the wall above the stove, sit and relax. How could a rich man possibly ever get a nice shot of trees' shadow combined with bad plaster on the wall in a ridiculously sunny Monday morning? In his/her own room? Now you know why I like not being rich.

This one comes over Anniina.

My five things/do's are

1. I would buy land. A really large piece of territory. With some hills and forests and creek and a lake perhaps. I would make my own organic farm in the middle of it, but basically, I'd do nothing with the land - would pay guards to not let anyone do any harm to it.

2. I would suggest my friends and relatives to move closer to me and perhaps, work on the same farm. I'd achieve it perhaps by buying them adjacent lands :)

3. I would have my eyes corrected so as no to wear glasses ever again.

4. I would travel a lot more. Considering I only travel abroad like every two-three years, that is not much of a request. I'd have my own small airplane, too. I'd do parachute diving, too. I'd love to drive a small airplane.

5. I would raise a fund so that I can use the money for eco and/or educational purposes according to my wish and to the well-being of the environment and/or kids.

I'm sure most of you know the Fiddler on The Roof musical. In the Hungarian version there is a line I completely disagree with: 'temetném a munkát' - which literally translates to 'I would dig a burying hole for work in general'. No matter how much money I had: I would definitely do something. With my hands, my thoughts, I would surely do something productive and useful. I would not want to put working to rest at all.

And what's more, if I got very rich, how could I possibly have enough time to care about them?

Eurovision 2007

UPDATE to MELLY

This is the song Ruzsa Magdolna sang at the Eurovision contest - with English subtitles. Go YouTube. Go Magdi!

And this is the Hungarian-speaking original clip. A well-done clip with a twist. Enjoy.