Guess The Movie - #2

This is the second round in the series. You can still go back and cast your guess(es) for the first part HERE.

NEW RULES

The rules have changed. Due to the peculiar habit of some of my honest readers who, having a similar approach to temptation as the late and nonetheless brilliant Oscar Wilde, check the hints before even guessing, no hints will be published here.

Also, do NOT cast your entries (guesses) in he comments section.

Instead, drop me a mail at toth[dot]f[at]invitel[dot]hu either to send me your guess(es) OR request for a hint.

All other rules, including the collection of award points remained the same as described HERE.

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So here goes the second installment:

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I am here and also I am somewhere else. I’m floating in some sort of dream. A dream to find her. This subtle drive has been gaining more and more strength during the past hour within me. How come I have this feeling that I might find her, might see her again?
I find it crazy that our dreams do not change over the years.
Will I notice her, after all? Will all my fantasies about finding her in her hometown come true? Does she still live here, after all? Nine years have passed. Does she remember me at all?

The reading is almost over. I’d like to keep it as long as possible and some more. I’d like to meet her. To get a glimpse of her shoulders. To catch a smell of her hair. Man, I’m going mad. It is really heard to focus on those questions. Autobiographical? I don’t think I could even spell that word. Of course my life is autobiographical. She is my life. Oh my.
What we see of the world is just a peek we have through our tiny keyholes, that’s all we have. And when it comes to a person, it’s just the sum of the moments and emotions of his life.
Where is she? Am I talking articulate? Do they comprehend? Where is she? When I look at my own life I see that I’ve never been much of my life around guns and violence, you know, not really, no political intrigue, or a helicopter crash, right?
I see my agent’s friendly smile and reassuring nod. It surely means I’m making sense, after all. Where is she? I don’t have much time before I leave this town, for God’s sake.
But my life’s been full of drama you know… Oh yes, I’ve had some of those. And the next one’s right around the corner if I have to leave Europe again without having seen my little Frenchie.

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And two more photos of the puszta:

Pictures from the 'puszta'

Some places, if not all, have their special atmosphere you either like or dislike.

I tell you my experience in this field.

Back in 1991, I was fascinated by the majesty of the Black Pine Forest. I found it almost mystical. It definitely had a draw on me. I spent 2 or 3 days there, and the charm was gone. A menacing presence took over. I felt I had to leave, just had to leave or I might get hurt by some unseen harm. To this very day, I can still recall the shiver (and ...was it fear?) I felt.

It's not that I dislike forests, not at all - it's just that that type of forest was not welcoming and friendly. At least, not for me.

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And now, about another site that is quite a sight: Hungary, the present-day, amputated area of Hungary is famous for its lowlands. The middle region of the Carpathian basin consists of flat areas, where the soil ranges from salty clay to loose sand, with various types of flowers and insects. This is called the 'puszta' (pooh-s-t-uh).

The one we visited last weekend is called Kunság (koo-n-sh-uh-gh; meaning home of the Kuns). The Kuns are a long forgotten nation that had an enourmous influence on the agriculture, folk art and genetics of the Carpathian basin.

This was the second time I spent some time and slept in the puszta.

Vast meadowlands are hardly, if ever, interrupted by farm houses here and there. This one below used to be a shed for sheep I guess.

The canal was suitable for a quick dip, but not much for a swimming, due to the high number of water-dwelling plants. The bed of the canal was a feet-welcoming clay.

The flowers of the puszta are not unlike to those found in and among rocks. The soil is salty and the availability of nutritive materials is low.



I find the 'puszta' friendly and welcoming. I can well imagine myself living in a farmhouse, taking care of sheep or cattle, collecting hay for the winter, managing poultry and collecting herbs. The movement of the eye is free, there's no obstacle of whatsoever to the wondering mind either. One feels safe and home.

patience, please

My computer needed some repair and I'm typing this text on the office computer of my husband. It means that I can not install the next part of the Guess the Movie series.

Also I can not upload any of the great photos I made during our weekend - see also the post below.

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The Guess the Movie will continue as soon as things are smoothed out: it can be as early as tomorrow, or it may take a few days.

I was wondering why there were not so many guesses, though. Three honest players disqualified themselves by looking at the hints and other people's comments, on player was unable to find the hints...

I'm thinking of not giving out any hints, OR handing out hints on REQUEST ONLY.

What do you think about the idea?

Time is up, I'm going, bye!

A nomad weekend

This weekend our family will be away to help others to organize the conditions and build the location of a grand event that will be held on 8-10 August.

Said event is called Kurultaj, (kooh-roohl-thai; the final combination 'a+j' sounds like 'i', as in 'I', first person).

I will report about this preparation-weekend later on.

It is a very important historical event for our nation, where lots of Hungarians, or relatives of Hungarians will meet each other to maintain the relationship.

I am very sorry, but the link I referred to takes you to a Hungarian page. There's no English version available, but with the help of the photos, you get the idea anyway.

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In the meantime, you might also look back and throw a guess at the Guess the Movie Part One. So far, not many guesses have arrived. I thought the film I wrote about was easier to guess...

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Guess The Movie - Round ONE

For the rules of the game, please refer to the post below.

Let the game start with a fairly easy one!

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The man in white shirt climbs higher and higher the metal stairs. Once he reaches the top, he starts running further away. The sergeant is right behind him. I see him leaving the top of the stairs and running after the bastard. One last pull and I’m up.
Far away, near the horizon, the shore fades into the growing darkness. The city below is slowly getting into the evening mode. Bright red and blue neon signs shine like match-boxes.
But it is not the right time and place to contemplate the evening.
We are in the run.
The man in white leaps into the air to jump onto a small roof. He lands safely. There is some distance between me and the sergeant, but running does not matter. Running is all right, but the location. Will I ever get my feet on solid ground?
The sergeant follows him easily.
Good for them – I know of the gap between. I do not look down, I jump.
The roof’s sloppy. Or are my hands sweating?
The slide seems to have taken hours. My heart pounds heavily when I finally get hold of the metal ditch at the bottom line of the roof.
My fingernails squeak. Bearing my weight, the ditch winds. It lowers me down a bit further.
My guts start to rise. Or are they sinking?
If I just turn my head slightly to the left, I can have a view of the gap under me.
I feel my face getting cold. My heart’s missing beats. My breath’s missing, too.
Windows on both sides of the two houses I was now hanging between, high up.
Don’t look down.
The height is growing.
It calls me.
Down, come down and rest.
An irresistible pull.

- Hey, give me your hands!
The sergeant’s voice hits me from above. His fingers are strong, his fingertips wide. If only I could just stop looking down…
Down, come down and rest.
- Give me your hands!
This time his voice comes from closer.
In fact he is sliding, too. He slides past beside me not even getting a grip of the ditch. In a matter of seconds, his body is down below, on the street. The spank and the absurdity of his final position attracts people of the street.

The monster below now has taken its prey for the evening.
You’ll be next – My dizzied ears are deceiving me. Are they not?
Down, come down and rest.

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Hints are written below. For getting more points try to guess without hints. It is one of the easiest in the whole series. You all can do it.

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Hint #1. One woman as two.
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Hint #2. San Francisco bay. The Mission. The Golden Gate.
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Hint #3. 1958.
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Any comments on the style of my writing, if meant to support and help me to improve are very much appreciated. No bonus points for that, though. But I am to grow and you are sure to help me. Thanks for playing along!

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The Conditions

of the contest are listed below:
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1. I wrote a text (per se, there are 10 texts) that is supposed to illustrate a movie. As if I was the one whose story the film was based upon. Perhaps, my idea is not original. Perhaps you don't really like movies. But you might like to give a guess or two.

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2. You read the text and try to guess the movie.

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3. You write your guess as a comment. Please do NOT write the title of the movie as a stand alone line. Hide it among a clutter of nondescript letters. If your guess is: 'Braveheart', you should write: kjfpaufjortz9vk3s8rgBraveheartgjdjtrkb95rhlswjv4darbg3

As the guesses keep coming, I ask you not to look at other people's guesses.

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4. There will be hints. Hints will be written in white. Just like the following sentence: Do not cheat!

You may use hints, but each hint takes away points.

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5. If you guess the name of the film WITHOUT hints, you get 10 points.

With the help of one hint:6 points

With two hints:4 points

With three:2 points

If your guess is somehow similar to the original version, you might still get points. Those cases are judged individually.

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6. There will be 10 rounds. I hope to publish them on Mondays.

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7. The player with the maximum amount of points will get something virtual from me, according to his/her own wish. Be nice to me, mwah-hah-hah. It can be a special, requested post, a photo, a meme, a painting, some sort of a help, whatever. Take part in another game - you decide.

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8. The films I chose SOMEHOW reflect my circle of favourite films. But not exactly. Some of them I can watch over and over again; some I watched once and that was that.

Bonus 6 points goes out to the player who guesses the rank of these 10 films, according to my standards. It should be a list. For example: 'Hey SzélsőFa I think your favourite is #5, followed by 6,2,10,3,7,4,1,9,8. '

Naturally, this bonus point can be awarded once all the ten films will have been guessed correctly.

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9. One player can have two guesses. The one with the highest number of reward points will be recorded.

Members of the same family count as separate persons, but only if they have a separate blogger account and they play as such. Like Aine and Jason. But you can not say: my guess is 'The little farm' and my brother said 'Moo me some more'.

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10. You SHOULD indicate the number of hints you used so that I can calculate your points. This is where the honesty factor comes into the game. I can not monitor your action, but I have to trust you. After all, it is a game.

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+1. It is intended to be fun. Have fun.

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Get ready

Get ready for a contest that starts on Monday, 26 May, here at the edge of the forest. All you have to do is to sit back and imagine the pictures that you think would support the text I provide you with.

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Bonus points to those who guess what the game will be about.

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There will be 10 (ten) rounds, just as there were with my previous fun photo contest.

No more wasted paper?

The life of an office paper:

1. It is brought into the office.

2. Text is printed on it. Someone reads it and uses it for quite a short interval of time.

3a. It is filed into a folder, where it gathers dust for as long as the office stands.

3b. It is thrown/burned away.

3c. It is recycled via the long way: a new paper is made. Chances are, this option is the less favoured one.

3d. The other side is reused. My husband keeps bringing them home so that the kids can use it for their drawings. Also he makes his students write their written essays on used paper.

But now!

Take a look at this.

I am amazed!

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Are you, too? Or do you see any drawbacks? Will people not use this new type of paper in the hope that the printed material would need more time for reading than 24hours? What can be the ratio of paper that is printed with the intention of one single look? Drafts? Emails?

The road and the evil stones

This post is a reflection to the sayings that 'Some blocks of rock on the road to Heaven are mounted by the devil', and 'Devil resides within small details'.

Watch this short video about an invention that is supposed to help lots of people. The official website suggests it is ideal for people who travel much, who don't have time and/or space to grow veggies out in the garden.

It also states "No dirt, no weeds, no mess and no green thumb needed."

Here, we are getting closer.

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Since when caring about veggies has been a clean-hand job?

Since when has mankind started regarding Earth as something filthy, something to avoid contact with? Since when man regarded himself as superior to any creatures and to life itself?

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I know - it happened a long time ago.

And see where we are know.

Anyone not seeing we are facing some sort of an ecological...uhm...hiccup...is either blindfolded or fool, or on some substance.

This neat step is one little step on the way to Heaven.

But it definitely was not mounted by love, or God, put it as you will.

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Okay, here's the video - and let yourself heard in the comments.

6 random facts

Kind Vesper has tagged me.
Here are the rules:

1. Link to the person that tagged you - ie me.

2. Post the rules on your blog.

3. Write six random things about youself in a blog post.

4. Tag six people. Let them know they've been tagged by leaving a comment on their post.

5. Let the tagger know when your entry is posted.

I have done a similar meme HERE...

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SIX RANDOM FACTS:

1. I can not really swim. Nor do I like it really much. I guess these two are related :) I like doing a few breast-strokes every now and then, but long distance swimming was not meant for me. I like watching other people swimming, though. And I like watching any natural body of water.

2. This blog has been a well-kept secret for almost 2 years. Noone I know knew about it until my husband found it out a few months ago. He is not the curious type, he respects this as a place of privacy. Other than him, noone I know knows about it.

3. There was a period in my life when I was in university when I thought smoking was fun. I smoked for about 3 months, but cigarettes took their toll on my teeth and fingernails. Discoloration (yellow stains) made me quit smoking. I smoked one day and did not the other day. It was just as easy. I have not smoked a cigarette ever since. The horrible part is that there are days when I crave for one. It sounds and feels crazy. The stronger the craving is, the stronger I resist, because the craving itself horrifies me.

4. If I had to choose to have one extra-human ability, I would choose flying. I have dreams when I fly. I usually dream of flying when I experience some strong emotion the previous day.

5. When I was a little kid I disliked my name. I thought it was a complicated and painfully long one. I wished for a short and simple one. Well, I got used to it, and got to like it, too. When I got married, I choose to show my maiden name instead of becoming a Mrs. Someone - even if Mr. Someone is a great person :)

6. When I was a kid I was a loner. I did not feel any attachment to those silly games kids play. I was an outsider. Sometimes it hurt, sometimes I was glad about it.

I remember one occassion when I took part in a game. There were two groups, one against each other. I was a member in one of the two groups, but I left the group and joined the other. They accepted me and provided me with their secrets and treated me as one of them. Secretly I knew I was just faking it and I would return to my first group. I was a spy. When I returned, none of the groups really liked me anymore. Rather, they despised me. This little action of mine, which started as an extremely interesting and funny experience, turned sour. I too, despised myself and never forgave my dishonesty. Neither have I played similar games.

This happened when I was about 9-10 years old. Ever since this incident, I value honesty, trust and faithfulness over any other human trait.

But this story has a happy ending.

I've started playing an online fictional world game called Travian. Some of you might have heard of it, might even have played in it. In short; people build towns of their own, create armies, fight each other. Some people gather into clans, and some clans fight against each other. I have my own village, too. Arthur, he was a man in my clan. He left the clan because he had other intentions than our leaders. Arthur was one of the most powerful members of the clan and he was my virtual friend. We only know each other in this virtual world.

When he left, our relationship stayed and even strengthened. He gives me advice about things as I am a beginner to this game. He is nice to me and we share honest messages. About two weeks after he had left the clan, Arthur asked a question I knew I should not answer. I felt my childhood memories coming back to me. I felt I had to do the same thing again. I felt the time when I was able to make things work out for good finally came. In agony and fear of doing the same mistake again, I shared my childhood story with Arthur. I explained this haunting feeling I had. I decided not to answer his question. Arthur understood my stance and asked for my forgiveness for tempting me. I felt relief. I think now I have undone my betrayal. I remained faithful to my clan AND to a friend I like. The best part is that Arthur understands me.

And now I tag those who liked reading my six secrets :)

Feel free to reveal yours.

Twelve brides

Foreword: this is one of my first-ever attempts at writing rhytmic poetry. I just wanted to capture the feeling I had upon seeing another wonder of Nature. My words might not suit the entirety and majesty of the scene, but I do like this particular photo.

It was made on 20 April in our front garden. Also, I'm hurrying posting this little piece because I just feel depression raging all over me again. Take and read this 'poem' as if you were seeing the last rays of an amber Sun before night clashes in. See ya.

The Sun glimpsed once and saw them all,
Satin of pink and white,
Twelve brides waiting in soft costumes,
Wildly bemused delight.

Scooting along the grooms arrived,
Hurried and kissed their brides,
Buzzing unbounded happy tunes,
Symphony of sweet life.

Music for the romantic

Nina Simone with 'I want some sugar in my bowl' - fits the story below.

Writing exercise

Christine Eldin had a writing exercise on her blog. The task was to supply another 300 words to the story she started. Below is the part she wrote and my version's below the ****-s.

This is sort of a romance, and I had very hard times finding out anything about these people. I don't think my version came out bright or truly original, but this is what I got when I got my brain working on it.

Feel free to comment on my writing and don't forget to visit the original version by Chris.

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Neal was the gem in my collection. An art major from an upper-class family, he had hazel eyes with long-eyelashes. And oh so smooth, gentle hands. Outcast by meaty frat-boys, we often spent time together walking through the woods.

"Let's kiss," he'd say. And we'd lean in and put our mouths together and I was always surprised when he'd use his tongue. I knew he wasn't gay, but it always surprised me just the same. He'd pull away then talk about his classes or an upcoming vacation, or how he'd like to sketch the bird resting on a branch overhead.

I was never embarrassed when he'd put his hands in his pants and adjust an errant erection. They were never related to our kisses, and he always excused himself. And, you know, I was never curious enough to peek. To think we were twenty but quite comfortable acting like twelve-year-olds.

I was part of Neal's collection, but he wasn't in love with me. Of that I was quite sure.

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We’re friends he’d say. Yet, my roommate made faces when she heard Neal asked me to accompany him on bird-watching. Lucy insisted Neal was a nerd. Or gay. Or a gay nerd. I did not care much about birds; and clutching to binoculars with freezing hands was not my type of pleasure either. Instead, it was the gem I followed. Or was it my heart?

We set ourselves in a log cabin for the night. Neal explained about the birds we were about to explore early in the morning. His deep, warm voice circled around and lulled me to sleep. I had the strangest dream this night. I saw Neal squatting in a nest, his head slightly turned down; his arms hanging loosely. He looked at me and was so quiet, peaceful and loveable I wished I could go up and spread my love around his body; because well, he had feathers all around him and he was sitting in a nest. And he was up about two meters high in an oak.

The morning came with a mist that wove its silky threads among the trees. The grass bore drips of silver under my feet as I stepped out to see where Neal was. I thought I slept too much and he was out already. He really was. About two meters high, in a bird’s costume. His facial expression was bemused and calm.

I returned to grab my belongings. The highway was about half an hour’s walk.

I never saw him again, nor did I speak to him. Sometimes I wish I did. I can still recall the enchantment over his almond eyes. Sometimes I’d walk past a pet shop and see caged birds in fancy plumages. They remind me of the taste of Neal’s kisses.

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UPDATED - Need some exercise?

If creative writing is among your hobbies, and/or you like reading love stories, do not hesitate: give your hand and brain a try at Christine Eldin's 35th Writing exercise. I wrote my entry and will be publishing it over here early next week.

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In the meantime, do some aerobic gladiator exercise with me.

Go out and so some gardening. Walking does count, too.

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And if you still have some brain capacity left, try your mathematics and belief in the supernatural. The link I'm giving will take you to a Hungarian site, but do not worry about language. Here's what you have to do:

Think about a number between 99 and 10. Got that? Take the individual numbers and add them up. Extract the sum from the original number. Got this? Check (mentally) the symbol beside this number. Click on the blue sphere. You can go on repeating with the process.

It took me some minutes to find out the truth. And you? I'm awaiting your comments! You may or may not indicate your average grade you had in schools in Maths. (Mine was 4, with occasional 3s and 5s), which equals B in the American system.)

Here's the LINK.

*************** real update - SPOILER ALERT ********** Spoilers are written in write. Highlighting areas where there seems to be nothing reveals the hidden text.

Step 1. I'm all into the supernatural, but this is pure math.

Stept 2. Think about two digit numbers as the sum of two separate numbers. One is taken ten times, the other is one time. Let's say the number is 38. Here, you have ten times the 3, plus one time the 8.

Step 3. If you extract (one time 3 plus one time 8) from (ten times 3 plus one time 8) you got NINE times 3.

This happens all the time.

Step 4. Now go check the symbols. They are randomized, but it's a false random. Numbers of the multiplier list of 9 always have the same symbol.

Step 5. For a freaky touch, the symbol belonging to 9,18,27, etc. are displayed elsewhere, too :)

Step 6. Now tell me which 'Step' introduced your hand to your forehead?

For a Free Tibet

This post is to raise awareness about the events than are going on (present tense of verb used on purpose) in Tibet.

I'm joining the voice that reached Bart and Miladysa and I assume, many others.

This is my simple contribution - a YouTube video about the Hungarian demonstration that took place on Budapest on March 20. I did not take part with my body -

The video shows how the demonstration goes from streets to streets to reach a large square where the speaker addresses the crowd in Hungarian. It ends with the words that 'I wish that there should be peace all over the world and we can all do a prayer to that end. Let there be peace everywhere in the world.' The last part is a prayer sung/told in Tibetian.

Amen to those.

Let Ello speak - UPDATED

Name a profession that the mere mentioning of the name of the profession itself makes you sweat, shiver and fear.

Got that? The solution below is written in white.

DENTIST.

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If you ever had a fear of a dentist, this absolutely brilliant description will help you forever to not overcome your rational emotions.

Great job, Ello.

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This Saturday, weather permitting, we're going to the fair of useless and beautiful animals. Photos will be coming soon !

Have a great weekend!

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With a quick manoeuvre of the wrong buttons I deleted all the photos I made today. No photos.

I have found them in the computer!! whohooo!

Springtime blues

with flowers prying through last year's fallen memories
it's hard to be blue
with the heart-throbs of Mother Earth pulsating around
in the tiniest of green blades and new leaves
it's hard to be blue
with all the love I have been given from the everpresent Being
and with all the love I have for you and myself
and with all the love that is life
it's hard to be blue -
but I manage it.

I weep for I know of no higher joy than being,

and I know of no higher fear than being...

Chicken

Have you heard about the game of 'chicken': it involves two irresponsible and possibly drunken youngsters and most importantly, two cars.

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Yesterday I was playing something similar with my dentist. I planned to visit him but I just stayed home and enjoyed being alone.

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Enjoy the photos my son made of our chicken.

Things we did during easter PART TWO

In Hungary, male visitors at Easter are given decorated eggs and/or money/chocolate. As I promised, here's the description of Easter eggs - the way we do them:

You need:
fresh, intact eggs
the outer tough and dark leaves of 5-6 onions (may use the onions to make a French onion soup)
a medium sized pot
water
fresh leaves of plants gathered from the garden/forest/roadside - (smaller and more delicate leaves are better)
an old pantyhose, cut into 10*10 cm pieces
rubber bands
a small cup of water
a clean table
grease
serviettes
some detergent and a sponge to clean up the grease
fresh kitchen towels

Method of preparation as displayed by DH and my 8 yo daughter:
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Step 1 (not pictured)
Put the onion leaves into the put with a sufficient amount of water and bring it to the boil.
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Step 2.
Make fresh leaves and cup of water available.
Select a leaf and rinse it in the cup of water.
Hold an egg and place a leaf on the surface.
Add as many leaves as you wish, carefully holding the egg so as not to break it and not to let the leaves fall. Any 8-yo can do that trick.

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Step 3.

Have a small piece of pantyhose ready.

Pull it tight with two hands. With your third hand, place the egg into the sack you've just created.

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Step 4.

This is the most difficult part. Using a rubber band, wrap the pantyhose around the egg to make a package. Do not break the egg, nor let the leaves slip off.


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Step 5.

Place the egg with the pantyhose on into the boiling water, which has been already given a nice color. Did I just say nice? You decide.

Let is boil for like 5 minutes.



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Step 6.

Remove eggs from water. Remove pantyhose and rubber band from eggs. You are not supposed to break the shell. Let the eggs dry until all dampness disappears.

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Step 7. Optional.

For a final touch, you may want to add some shine to the eggs. Dip your fingers into some grease and put a tiny(!) amount of it on the surface. Rub it gently over the shell with a help of a serviette.

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Step 8.

Enjoy the endproduct, and gather whoa-s from visitors.

The Cave and an important message

This piece below was written for the Writing Exercise #32 by Chris. The conditions included a word count limit of 150 and that MC must be finding something in a dark, dark cave.

Here it goes in 147 words:

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The cave discharged cold dampness. Alone as I was, I felt compelled to enter.
The small cave embraced me. The backmost wall displayed a vibrant reflection.
One by one, I slid my feet closer in the silence to see what it was. Odd-shaped pieces of mist-covered gravel met my fingers as I reached out to the sides.
Suddenly, there was a grayish figure in front of me.
I froze.
The ‘thing’ was motionless, too.
Breathe in, breathe out, I tried to control panic.
No one told me there would be dangers ahead.
No one told you to enter the cave either.
Heading for the entrance would mean turning my back upon the thing. I took no risk and started my slowest ever backward march.
The thing moved too.
It moved when I moved.
My forehead was still damp as I slapped it.
The thing slapped hers, too.

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and here's the message: Earth Hour 2008!

Join us!!!

Things we did during Easter PART ONE

During the Easter school holiday we were indulged in contemplating the baby chicken, weather permitting - as it was snowing and/or raining and the wind was blowing like hell. The hen left the nest on 23 March, which meant that according to her , no more hatching would take place. If there were any eggs left, those were considered either infertile or that the embryo within is deformed and/or not healthy enough and/or under-developed.

We trusted the hen's instincts and removed the eggs from the nest. One of them was blank (infertile), and three or four contained embryos at an early stage of development.

The reason for underdeveloped embryos is that when brooding starts, we place a certain number of eggs under the hen. Basically, it is the hen who starts brooding and we have no interference into her action. You can't force-brood. That's called an incubator.

So, the eggs are heated by the hen's body. Embryos start to develop and within 22 days, they are ready to hatch. But if you have more than one egg-layers, there's always a chance that one of the hens will lay an egg into the brooding nest. Since the hen leaves the nest each day to care about her toilet and kitchen issues, eggs are left unattended. Having quite a number of eggs is tempting for another hen to lay on top of the collection.

This is how the original 12 increased up to 14-15 in our case as well.

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The first picture shows how the mother hen can cover the young chicks almost entirely with her own body and plumage. Your task: Spot the baby chicken.

This next is about feeding time. Which equals two third of their waketime.

Please note the bare neck of the Turkens. Turkens are fun to watch. Consider me as a fan of Turkens, but my devotion lessens by the minute as young Turkens are weak and can not resist the cold. We had nine chickens hatched but two Turkens have died in the first two days.

Right now we have 3 Turkens, 3 Partridge Colored Hungarians and 1 mixed bred (from our own egg).

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On 23 March, we celebrated the 70th birthday of my mother-in-law. Here's a part of the dinner table. Yum. And extra yum for the salad made of organic salad, carrots and ramsons.
Here's a cake DH's sister made for her mother (the one who turned 70). Hands down: it is a broom.
Yes, the usual flying vehicle for witches. Our family has a wicked sense of humour. Everyone had a hearty laugh upon recognizing the shape and the meaning and the biggest laugh came from the witch herself. I think she received it because of her recent interest in natural medications, energy healing and the like. She's a wonderful and caring person - if she was a witch, she would be the most positive and useful one.

On another day, we celebrated my daughter's eighth birthday.

This is her hair on the day:

The flower decoration is made of felt and was created by the same person who made the broom-cake. And here comes the main attraction: the cake that the witch has made for the 8-yo girl:

A baby chicken emerging from an egg-shell. The icing represents the shell of the egg.

Here's a close-up of the chicken. It is two balls of sweetened chestnut puree, covered with colored marzipan. The eyes are unsalted pumpkin seeds, trimmed to have a round shape.Would you care to come over for a birthday, too? Provided you get a cake from the witch....

(As I promised, there will be a second post-Easter entry about Eacter activities. Watch out for the making of colored eggs.)

Happy Easter!

Spring is officially here and it was -1 degree Centigrade this morning. The baby chicken are hatching.

It is a Full Moon today and Easter is just around the corner. The kids are home from school. We have two birthdays in the family. My daughter is turning 8 and DH's mother's becoming 70. We also celebrate my son's name-day.

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Easter is an important event in the Hungarian traditons.

The ancient people celebrated goddess Villő (will-and add a long vowel as i in bird) these days. She was an elf who brought spring along into the world. She had flowers and green twigs in her hair and shells all over her body. Winter retreats when she comes.

A doll made of straw symbolizing winter was thrown into water and/or burned.

Winter disappears into water and from water emerges spring.

Water has a central importance in Eastern festivities. In the old times, men used to throw water on women.

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Now Hungarian men and boys sprinkle women and girls with fragnance.

In return, they are given decorated eggs and/or chocolate, and more recently, money.

People gather together and eat a lot during Easter. The main meal is boiled, smoked ham and hard-boiled eggs. Sausages and other types of pork are also favoured.

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Christianity has also put down its two cents around Eastern.

While invincibility sounds just fine, I do think the idea was taken a bit too far.

The idea of staying alive and not getting deteriorated according to the laws of nature feels strange, but it is a genuie and appealing one for the many.

Many heroes and saints of Christianity also stayed intact even after death.

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Just a moment before indulging in the admiration of the revival of the outer world, many people find Eastern a time to find examine their beliefs.

I have mine, but for those of you who are open to an interesting self-survey, this place is a must-visit. There are questions and no wrong answers. All you have to do is to listen what your inner side tells you. At the end you are told that what religion are your beliefs come closest the most. I did this test twice and was found Neo-pagan once and Mahayana Buddhist the other time.

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The very first photo of the very first baby chicken. Hajas (Huh-yush), a Japanese mixed hen is still sitting on the eggs. The first chick to hatch is a Partridge-colored Hungarian purebred. Click on the photo to enlarge. This photo was made on 21 March 2008.

Update on chicken: We have checked the henhouse to find two more babies: two Turkens.

ways upon the sky

what is beneath the feet on the ground

spinning between my fingers

the air licks me

what is beside me, lost within the darkness of the coming night

around me

covering my own self

with layers of a new reality

hands tied I look up as

she calls me for a ride

a hooting across the ages

spanning the present with the closed lids of jars

across the shelves

and I follow

with a hazy halo of mist

the Moon gallops through the somber sky

years drown leaving no trace

or not more than the sound of a bud popping out

as the season starts all over again

I am there with her

driven into the depth of neverland

into a wet, salty land

looking down there's a bunch of dreams

of shredded angels

broken glasses and lost pieces of puzzles

that never come out right

she takes me higher

and I sway

to fall

a short entry

First of all, I'd like to thank each one of you for commenting on my loooong post below.

Your thoughtful notes contributed to seeing more clearly and understanding my choice. Thank you! I decided to talk in person to those concerned.

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In the meantime, I'm still doing my ordinary job, which may sound weird to those who have regular jobs. But I'm a freelancer and there are times when I have no work to do at all and there are times when I have just as much as I can handle. This is what is going on now :)

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Also, Chris had a 4-part writing exercise, which is over now, but the blog specially created for reading everyone's entry is up until the end of March. Go over and check the entries (there are about 6-8 stories). It may take some time though as each entry consists of 1200-4000 words.

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In other news, buds are opening on black currant bushes. Crocuses are a-blooming. The tulips have their leaves out. The keeps blowing like hell and my head aches. And, there is only a week to go to see the baby chickens. I can already imagine their feet trampling over the grass like clumsy, giant trolls - as if they ever were, you know. When they hatch, their size is the same as that of an egg...who would have thought that, anyway...? and they have a shape of a ball. This photo was made in 2007. It's either Fagyi (Icecream) or the late Hógolyó (Snowball).

A dilemma - LONG POST

Below are my ponderings about a group I am about to leave, and about my feelings about that. You can skip and go below to that nice shot of a sky in between late-winter storms. Or rather, are they early spring storms? Does it amaze you how much a change in definition matters?

I added some photos I made on our National Holiday 15 March in our capital, Budapest in 2006.

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This is a local women's group and was established in 2003. It was aimed at helping women of the area. One of the founders was a friend of mine, a married woman with two kids. I joined the group because the idea seemed fun, but most of all, the idea of helping and self-helping seemed fantastic.

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The nature of help involved giving advice about getting jobs, organising events where women of all age were able to get know more about their feminine side and about their rigths in their working place, about suitable places to go with a toddler....all sorts of things. It felt like fun. And a very useful fun at that.

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But most of all, it was about a community. An email group, but not just a virtual one. Members of the Board, among where I used to belong then, met regularly and decided about the next step.

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Then came autumn of 2004 when I was offered a job. I was already working but our company won some money and we extended our activities. I chose to work for money for something I adored over for voluntarily for something I also adored. I do not regret my step - and I tend to think I had no other choice. My boss was asking me something. I think it's quite obvious.

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Doing that paid job meant I had to step back from the women's organisation. I remained a member, but not an active one. I attended meetings but my mind was occupied.

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The paid job was over a year later and my mind was still a bit tired. Also, I felt myself getting involved in other subjects.

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I began to see women and men equal, and different at the same time; not by laws of man, but laws of nature. I know it may sound weird. I begun to see that their role were different in this world and that it was rightly so. Also I felt myself getting involved in politics. In a certain way - I never joined or supported any party in any way. But there were movements I liked and sympathized with. I, approaching the age of *coughs* 35-40 have sort of settled in my views.

Which does not mean I'm not open to new ideas. And also, that I'm impeccable. - Not the least.

It's just that I have my own opinion.

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When I returned to the organisation, I found some changes.

Some of the members were sort of disowned and repelled.

Some just plain left the organisation.

Some others have taken the Board.

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The good thing?

The group grew bigger and had more influence. There were many courses and events organised and/or held for women. There were and still are serious achievements made by the group - including, but not limited to installing a babychanging facility in one of the public buildings of our town, handing out annual awards for shops/facilities for being child-friendly, lobbying for a special fee for mothers with children on state vehicles (this one failed, unfortunately), starting a film-club, launching a weekly club for toddlers). The group has it's effect now at town level.

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The bad thing?

Well...

This organisation keeps repeating that it has a no-religion, no-politics, no-marketing, no-offense policy. This is part of their image.

Which is a lie.

They label certain groups as 'unwanted' and 'extremists' and well, if I had to choose where to raise a flag, I'd certainly be on those people's side.

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The same goes to having become gender-focused and strongly feminist. Back in the early days, gender issues, feminism was hardly, if ever, mentioned. Now it's out in large print, as the group has come out openly as an advocate of feminism.

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There were signs back those days....I ignored them for the sake of community. I suppressed my inner dislike of how members were thinking, because being in a community meant that much to me.

I recall meetings when I was just listening to their voices, not really caring about the meaning - for if I had done, I would have surely been outraged.

And yes, I was outraged at times. I told myself to quit, and I stayed. I stayed partly because they valued me. Not my views in particular, but it seemed that everyone liked me, as a person. I was labelled as an extremist in politics, environmental and family issues, but they did like me and I am convinced they still do.

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So, there was I - being loved by a community toward which the attachment I felt was weakening by the hours. I was feeling less and and less useful. They asked for my advice, but I hardly gave any because those I had was of no use for them. Although I did speak up for some traditional values and views, I refrained from tough criticism of their feminism. I kept that for myself.

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The situation is now clear for me: I am a member of a group I can no longer help. My views are unacceptable there. Their views are, most of the times, unacceptable for me. I do not want my name associated with the group anymore. I do not belong to them.

This feeling hit me hard about some months ago - and I was waiting for the occassion.

Do you think it is time I quitted?

Do I sound stupid for clinging to a community?

Thanks for listening.

Storm

Night falls upon the Earth

Winds scream over the roofs, like sea upon rocks

Unleashing grey dust balls on ink

Coins sparkle

With clothes ripped off there stand they,
Scraping the impervious above
Crying out their pain to none around
But to those who are weeping, too

Chain clashing against tile
Foils flame with fury
Rattle and squash
Wet soil underneath the weakness of life
And the dogs are set loose