we start a 4-day holiday this Saturday. I'll be away, but will be back with lots of photos I hope. On Saturday, we are going on a one-day hiking tour to the Pilis Mountains, on Sunday I will cook as a volunteer at an organic event. Monday and Tuesday will probably go as any other usual days that we spend at home.

Enjoy the photos below and take care. See you on Wednesday, May 2. Bye and have a Happy May Festival.

the new digital camera

Dear all - yes, we did it! We bought the new digital camera! Hooray! Get ready for an overwhelming flow of pictures.

This is Lepke (Butterfly), our only Turken hen at the moment. She displays her typical surprised look here. Note the barren vivid red neck and the yellow feet. She's a beauty - I mean, among Turkens.

This is Hajas (Hairy), the mixed small Japanese with her one week-old chicks. She takes them 'to bed' well before the older animals retire. But kids do need more rest, don't they?

This is a nice pair. Parázs (Live Coal) on the left and Kakas (Roo) on the right. Cock-a-doodle-dooo!

While the human parents were endulged in the pleasure of making photos with the new machine, the kids made dinner for the whole family. My son adjust slices of bread with mustards, while Rozi grates some hard cheese. Roasted cheese sandwich with an electric sandwich maker - voila! Aren't they nice and helpful? And no, they are not doing it on a regular basis. Unfortunately.

The hyper-super macro function of the new camera. One of the reasons we bought this particular model. I think you all know what this pic is about, but I' d like to hear you guessing - if playing along was within your cards for the day. All notions will be answered.

Canon PowerShot 460, welcome to my world.

On request: love and love

This is a post I am quite late with. I promised working on it to Anniina but I'm sure it will please those of you out there also, who have an appetite for linguistics and hidden meaning of words.

Let's set up definitions love type1 and type2. Type1 is for a love that is between married couples and in general, between a man and a woman. Some more 'up-to-date' persons might add some other combinations to the list, but this is my blog. Type2 however is something one usually feels towards his/her children, God, friends, fellow beings - provided that said person has any of those.

In the Hungarian language there are two words for the feeling(s) that the English compounds as 'love'. These are nouns and I admit, that if we need the verb form, the verb is the same for both feelings.

The English says:

'I love you' - and upon circumstances and speakers the reader/listener decides whether it is love type1 or type2.

The Hungarian says:

'Szeretlek' - and the situation is the same, although the Hungarian, being an agglutinative language, needs only one word for what the English uses three. But that's not my point. Not now.

But behold, when it comes to nouns.

The English says:

'love' - and one decides whether the speaker/writer refers to type1 or type2. Is it a love between a man and his dog or his womanly partner? between friends or very good friends?

The Hungarian on the other hand, says:

'szerelem'- for type1

'szeretet' - for type2.

Most of our original words have their own roots and thus, one (who's not brainwashed enough) might dig into words in search of something treasured - and usually there is a find to excavate for.

You might have noticed that both of our nouns start with 'szer' and end up differently: 'etet' and 'elem'. Got that, right?

'szer' is a very difficult word to describe - even for most Hungarians it has lost its original meaning. We still have this root, though in words like 'szerszám' - meaning instrument, utensil, tool. In which the 'szám', means 'a piece of'. And also in 'szervez' - meaning 'to organize'. In which the 'vez' - might be a shortened form for 'leading/leader'.

I conclude 'szer' being a noun that refers to something that is not really physical, but essential. If you perform a ritual, you participate a 'szer'. Think of the English (though Latin-derived) ceremony. See the 'szer' at the beginning of the word?

'szer' is a ceremony, during which on can practice rites and his/her beliefs.

Now, let's get back to the back of the loves, type1 and2.

'elem' - (noun) means particle, component, piece of, factor, unit.

I conclude that this addition makes 'szerelem' (love, type1) something of a ritual that is part of a higher ceremony.

'etet' - (verb) means to feed, to supply one with food. (on a side note: 'itat' - (verb) means to supply one with water...pls note the t-t's in both verbs)

Following my logic towards the creation of Hungarian expressions, this turns 'szeretet' (love, type2) to a rite that nourishes. A sequence and package of events and feelings that leaves one fed and comforted. It is inevitable if one is to live and develop.

Your turn: can you name any other language, be it real or fictional, alive or long forgotten, where the same phenomenon exists? And if your native language is not English, please inform me/us about the word for love. And love.

I set my mind not to bother you with pronounciation, as that's not the main issue here. However, if you are interested in how to say aloud these Hungarian words, just go ahead and ask me.

Budapest, Hungary 21 April 2007

People went out to the streets again, but no violence took place. The speakers implied the formation of a shadow-government. Nothing factual and positive was really heard or said.

Photos are taken from HírtTv - one of our national online medias.

Post#250 - did you know?

Although this is not the latest news, this clip makes you think about how really fast our world is. Can we possibly run any faster towards the precipice?

Off with my pessimism.... the music that accompanies the facts is enthralling, I just love it.

project or not project

The lady I was supposed to work with on the eco-consciousness project rejected my helping her out by calling my continuous shower of emails towards her a 'harrassment'. I do not wish her to live through what a harrassment really is, for I am against bad wish and revenge. But I might not work on the project with her any longer.

Seems reasonable, isn't it?

UPDATE: Two emails later with this lady, I sent a letter to the organizers that 'upon mutual agreement', I no longer take part in the event. That being said, I'm happy for not having to work with her.

Really, there are many kinds of people I can put up with. Many, but this one.

And for those who love my photograpy, here's a nice one.

This is my husband's feet in 2004, April in the Pilis Mountains.

fallen

in your temple
a sigh parts my lips as
I try to recollect myself
from the debris I catch inside
as I watch the leaves gracefully bathing in sunshine
I feel education and civilization
leaking out of my body,
creeping out
like little worms
they bore themselves out at
the tip of my fingers
and as they leave
I'm finding the thing again
I'm finding you
and within you - me
how I come to loose the connection every once in a while?

the project

I'm working on a conscioussness-raising evening about environmental issues. It will be held on 25 April by a women's group, called 'Regina'. This means that the target audience is composed of present or future mothers, those who work and those who have small children at home.

This little rambling here hopefully helps me to gather my thoughts and redirect my ever-wandering mind to the topic.

This event is one piece of the series the Regina organizes this year. Each month, a certain disabled or disadvantaged group is targeted. The first month was about the countryside and the hardship pheasants or generally, people living in the countryside feel and experience. I did not attend that evening, though. The March evening was about women - what roles do we have, what are the prejudices connected with each role. The April event is about 'environmentalist' in general.

Well, yes, I feel being an environmentalist makes me quite disabled, too. At least in the eye of those who feel obeying some laws and restricting ourselves is a disadvantage.

A week or so ago I saw the film by Al Gore called 'The Inconvenient Truth'. At home we have the 'Day After Tomorrow' on CD.

I'm thinking of the Ten Indian Commandments to incorporate into the speech and also some fine poetry by Reményik Sándor. (Poor Wikipedia dear, this time I so disagree with your emphasizing how not indian this might be. How confusinig this compilation of wise words might be for those who seek real indian traditions. Oh, yes of course. But for those who seek wisdom and disregard its source your punctuality might be deterring...)

At the same time this project is not to call attention for the need to become more conscious about the environment. I take this as granted. Do you, too?

So this event is about ....

a single person's responsibilities and duties?

the conditions and/or activities of the environmentally concerned activists and/or organizations?

the role of parents and/or institutions?

the state our environment is in at the moment? (who am I to detail and display that, anyway?)

the need for more action towards a healthier and more sustainable living? (C'mon you all mothers, just let your cars outside and start walking home?)

suggestions as to the methods of survival once it all crashes and there will be no environment to take care about? (am I to act like a nasty prophet?)

I think if I had the answer to that I'd be better off.

Your ideas?

Either about this green project OR about buying a Canon PowerShot 460. Or both.

hatching time

We have 11 tiny feathery balls around in the hen-yard. It appears that the 21 days of brooding is over. Well done, Hajas! (She is the brooding hen, pronounce her name as Huh-yush)

Some of the chicklets are hers, but most of them genetically belong to some other hens of ours.

Back to the babies:

One of them is gray, one is brown, two are yellow, and the rest are black-ish. Those will turn barred I assume. The following chicklets have already been given names by us: the richer yellow one, which is also the bigger of the yellows is 'Gombóc' (meaning 'Ball') the other, whitish, smaller one is 'Fagyi' (that is 'Icecream' in English). The gray one's 'Felhő' ('Cloud') - it is my favourite. The brownish-orange one is called 'Caramel' ('Fudge').

Our own pictures will be coming soon - as we are planning to buy a digital camera this evening!

UPDATE: we went to one shop and found a Canon that would suit us. But we'll have to check in some other shops as well.

visual dna

Read my VisualDNA™ Get your own VisualDNA™

Some notes:

first of all, I would like to warmly thank Bart and Anniina for their love-filled comments when I was really down. I am much better now - seems thing have gotten back into a normal mode again. I wouldn't have guessed that just back in Friday... I had no idea re:how to go on at all... it all seemed to meaningless and at the same time I knew leaving was just as much meaningless... But the thing below (call it a poem if you like) just tells it a bit better...

secondly, the test comes via Melly.

and now it's time for some analysis.

My art:

I had a hard time choosing between the shell and the Mona Lisa. And also I find the culinary art is also an art, while I also enjoy the arts of body: martial arts, parkour, gymnastics. People can do marvellous things with their bodies - and what I really value that behind a perfect physical performance there must always be a perfect harmony between mind and body. And that is art. A very precious one. So why did I choose the painting?

My kind of excitement:

outdoor activities energize me. Recently I've heard that there are some natural antidepressant bacterias dwelling in the soil. Whether it's true or not - I've heard many people speaking about gardening making them calm and relaxed and happy, so there must be something about it! After all, when that's when one's connected directly to Mother Earth- and that tells it all.

I would like to:

Meditation, yes. But a little bit of chocolate might also come. Like one piece before meditation and the second one after meditation.

My freedom:

I've chosen the picture that might look ideal as a holiday. But also I might have chosen the open road with lots of clear undisturbed sky above. Once I took part in a road stroll, back in 1991 and oh, those weeks are unforgettable.

My treat:

Something delicious would do. But I also like a hot shower anytime of the day. Also, regardless of my mood I like to so some singing along. But that was not among the possibilites in this test. I would picturize it with someone mouth wide open, eyes closed, neighbours shaking fists....

My love:

Affection and caring. Long lasting and true. Based on mutual agreements and understanding. Complete honesty and loyalty.

My landscape:

Although I'm getting a liking towards water, and air, I chose the forest one. If there were a creek in this picture, that would make the perfect one. At the same time I feel extremely comfortable with heights and hiking among rocks as well. But the forest is what calls me back. Rocks are my lovers, the forest is my home.

My holiday:

In the high mountains, with a partner as a company. A slow and fully explorative holiday, with mild weather (set the temperature between 0 and 15) and lots of walking in the wild. With some chocolate in the backpack.

My vice:

Have you not already guessed? Also, I'm addicted to blogging. I hope you don't mind.

My music:

Rock events are not for me. I like my music at home or at a concert hall.

My drink:

Although I like some good red wine too and we have great ones in the country, I chose the drink I have on a daily basis. Hot herb tea, with nothing added - nothing to spoil the natural taste.

My bedroom:

I like when a room has its clearly defined function. A room for sleeping and some other adult activities schould not be a kitchen at the same time, for example. this is not how we really live at the moment, for our bedroom serves as a bedroom for the kids as well and for the daytime, it is the living room as well, but I'm hoping for a real bedroom. Will I enjoy it as much as I imagine I would now? Time will tell.

discard me, I'm sick

I have had too much
of spring's warmth, of promises of growth, of forecoming starry nights
for they are a lie
and it's the end that's coming -
everything's determined to fail
vanishing clueless and blindfolded

in the secret chamber
winter is what I'm yearning for
when frost pierces through the bones
when structures are clean and neat
and everything's open and new
and free

and in the book of my faces
disturbed, I turn the pages
the yellow one vomits
the black one howls
the white one whistles
the silver one cries

and no matter how I anticipate
and how long I search
the pink one, the shiny golden one
the joyeous face
just does not float up among the bleak ones

I wish the gate to be opened
the flesh to be abandoned
the visceral left behind
the guts cast aside
freed
up high again
high and safe, rescued

but there's no salvation
without me
my other lives
would be just as much filled with myself
unless
I change
this thing that is not really me

I am me and not me
I am better than me
I am far worse than I really am
I am split
and I am one
with everything

and this shall, too pass
and this shall linger till the end
of all times

in a certain mood

Freddie King performs Bill Wither's 'Ain't no sunshine when she's gone'. Brilliantly.

Poetry Day

April 11 has been Poetry Day since 1964 in Hungary. This special day was created in honor of József Attila, who was one of our greatest poets. Today day is his birthday.
If you are interested on facts about his life, and have the time to read a brilliant translation of some of his poetry, visit this. It is pdf file, and it takes some time to load, but it's worth it.

He was labelled as a believer of communism, a politically left-sided poet, who cared about the distress of the proletariat. This is the official opinion about his work. There are many, including skilled gnosticists and alchemists who believe that there's more to that. Some of his poems reveal the way he was blessed/burdened with such an insight into the matter of things and to ultimate reasons. He looked deeper and found more than an average person might do. Politically and spiritually alike.

The official saying goes that his schizophrenia (a split personality disease) was the main reason he committed suicide at age 43 - but there might be more than that, too.

And finally, he, besides Remenyik Sándor, is my favourite Hungarian poet. Translating József Attila would be too much of a task for me and I would definitely be in need of a native speaker's sensitive help... When I was a teenager, I learned some of his poems by heart. Those I have forgotten, but everytime I re-read them, they ring a special tone. They are burnt within me.

Now I'm leaving you - some work, a lunch and some reading. On Poetry Day - some poetry.

personal dna

My personal dna report is over here.

die and reborn - a prayer for Easter

the backwoods are pulling me in
and in I come to get lost
I want to get disintegrated within
to loose it all
I want to be the daybreak dew on the leaves
that gets soaked up by the first rays of the Sun -

the water is calling me

and here I enter the surface to get dissolved

I want to float awhile then sink

to infiltrate the depths

I want to be a flake of water on the surface

that gets burnt by the midday Sun -

flame is inviting me

and I introduce myself into the purity of fire

I need to die

for I want to live

I want to be the dust that swirls amongst the blaze

that gets swept away at Setting Sun -

wind is taking me

and I let myself be taken

I need new horizons

to understand the old ones

I want to be the night whisper of the forest

that remembers the Sun.

Happy Easter

We'll be away with a company of good Hungarians. We will visit a place between River Tisza and Bodrog. I hope to make nice pictures there and to share them with...you? or with myself as this place seems to be as alone as the most dense corner of an abandoned forest. Well, if that's where I'm living, so shall it be.
In my 'preface to the Tale of the Crow' I mentioned a 'news' that schocked me.
This happened last Sunday (1 April) but it was not a Fools' Day joke.

It was a report from an astrologist expert, based on my birth circumstances (exact date and location, you know how it goes.) While I assume most (if not all) of the atrology thingy of magazines are randomly selected crap, real astrology is a science, and stars and constellations do have an influence on our dispositions and approaches. Now, this lady, who made my report was so extremely on the spot re: my habits, feelings, good and bad thing alike - it might have been as well written by myself as well. It wasn't the usual and blah 'you like a job done well and you work hard' type of description. It did have insights into my real self - at least as far as I've been knowing and learning myself in the past 30-something years.

The most embarrassing and shocking, well, fact was that that referred to the main purpose of my life. Accordig to the belief, which I can not reject, which I believe in, one chooses his/her parents and his/her own way of life well before one's born.

This purpose might be 'spreading information and teaching people' - as it was in the case of my husband. Surprise, surprise - he's a teacher. But he grabs every single occasion to educate any people on any subject, to spread the knowledge.

One quickie: the astrologist had NO knowledge of my husband and me, just the time and location of birth.

Well, my goal was this: 'family'.

And this shocked me.

Partly b/c I was hoping for 'artistic improvement', 'self-development', 'self-education', 'spiritual development', 'achievement in some professional field' or something along these lines. And 'Family' shocked me partly b/c this is the exact are of my life where I feel biased, weak. Whenever possible, I try to avoid things that are strictly family issues. I don't feel like being a good mother at all. I've never been the type the Hungarians call 'hen-mother', referring to a mother who always takes care of her kids, of which she has many, she always ask about waht food/care can she possibly give to her kids, whose kids come up for her for comfort...who's always feeling love, who's warmth radiates through the house... I hope you got the meaning here.

I've been always considered a somehow cold mother...which does not seem really good, but that is how/what I am...

Now comes this astrology report, with all the things being correct about me....

I was literally sick on absorbing that....

I guess it's b/c the medication we need the most feels the bitterest...

b/c the thing we need the most as a medication is the one we want to avoit the most...

here I come...

this is what I am...

a preface to The Tale of the Crow

***I've been yearning to write a tale for so long. A tale to entertain kids and adults alike.

***This one was conceived during a walk through the forest with Rozi. We were listening to birds and Rozi came up with most of the ideas that were incorporated into the story. The fairies were also coming from her mind. I was just like, interpreting her ideas. I believe she would become a talented writer once she would be able to write :) - but her mind is already full with lots of ideas and characters as of now.

***I started writing the story around 20-21 March and once more, during another walk, we elaborated on the line of events and characters. That was when the Fairies entered the story.

***I started it with great enthusiasm, but somehow my inspiration faded away. I am really not content with the ending. I had an alternative ending with the Crow being extremely desperate and depressed. But I rejected the idea of introducing the notion of suicide into a miraculous story like this. Instead, I opted for a happier ending.

***Also, during writing (which took some weeks), I had a news that somehow depressed me (more about that comes later on) and perhaps this fact/news influenced me in 1) not being inspired and free-spirited in writing anymore 2) wanting to add a sorrowful ending.

***But I hope you like it anyway.

I wrote this preface to make some things clear and to make myself remember to the circumstances of writing.

The Tale of the Crow

- inspired by and written for Rozi, for her seventh birthday -

At the beginning of times, when all animals used to live in a vast forest, all birds were singing gracefully. Some started at the dimmest sight of the first rays of Sun, some waited until it finally broke up into the middle of the clear sky. Some sang constantly, stopping only to pick a worm or two to full their stomach with, some sang every now and then and some sang only if there was something to really sing about.

Back at those times, all the birds sang. Those we hear and enjoy today like the Robin, the Blackbird and the Thrust among the spikey branches of green pines that reach the clouds... Every singly bird had its tune. Even the Crow sang, too.

The Crow had a powerful voice. Everytime it opened its beaks the rest of the birds quitted for a while. They felt the strength coming from the Crow's song and they were reassured that everything went allright in the forest so they were able to resume their respective duties. The Crow sang nicely, like a trumpet, or a timbal. It was like a calling for march.

The Crow did not sing much, though. He sang dutifully but not very often.

What we, people do not normally know is that each and every bird has it's own sheet of music - it is like a guidance for singing with each note neatly scored. That is how they sing and that is how it was back in those times. The Crow had his own note sheet, too. It was on an enourmous maple leaf. Or was it an oak perhaps? It was huge. And brown.

The birds did not usually carry their sheets with themselves- they used to keep them somewhere near their nests.

Oh, and about how did the birds initially got their music sheets. Of course they were handed out one by one by the Forest Fairie. Those birds who were residing in the forest, of course. And for those who lived out of the forest, out in the great meadow, the Rainbow Fairie came all by herself. Once it was raining and the Sun was shining, too - a rainbow appeared and with it came the Fairie. She had her rainbow-colored gown on and her hair was of the colours of the rainbow, too. Imagine the magic wand she had was also of rainbow color.

So, each bird was assigned by sheets of notes.

Every bird, but the Sparrow.

For the Sparrow, being a constant seeker and eater of small grains, was busy elsewhere. He was eating the food that had been scattered in front of the Hens in the henyard. He heard the calling, but was afraid of the rain - he did not have a strong coat of feathers, you know. So instead of rushing towards meeting the Rainbow Fairie, as all the other birds did, he stayed and had his portion of grains. When he finished, both fairies were gone. There were no more handing out of musical sheets. The Sparrow was sad. He was silent for he had no tune of whatsoever on a leaf.

And his sadness slowly turned into anger. He seeked for an occassion. Seeking kept him alive. Revenge boiled his head, spoiled his feelings and poisoned his heart.

One day, the Crow was holding his note-leaf among his claws while sitting high on a walnut tree beside the meadow. He saw that the Sparrow was watching him from the ground, but took no real notice. He kept singing. And he sang forcefully. Buds sprang out with joy and little blades of grass broke through last year's litter under bushes at hearing him, the Crow. It was the Spring's Song he sang.

And when it was over the Sparrow was high up above the Crow among the branches. Immersed in singing, he did not notice it.

- Good morning, Crow. What a nice song you have - bowed the Sparrow as out of courtesy.

- 'ning Sparrow. Thank you.

-It feels so good that you have that nice song. I wish I had something half as much valueable. - the Sparrow continued.

The Crow did not answered for he knew what the Sparrows were. He took off and headed towards the forest.

As he was flying above a blackthorn a bunch of other sparrows rocketed out of the bush. The Crow was surprised and the momentary hesitation just seemed perfect for the gang. They advanced him from every possible direction. All he managed to care about was his own life and the precious note on that oak leaf. The sparrows started attacking him now. The Crow loved his song so very much that in the fear of loosing it he drew a long sight on the note. In doing so, and very unfortunately too, he lost his balance and in re-gaining control he lost the leaf. It was now drifting deeper and deeper into the thick bush. And then more and more sparrows came and each and every one of them tried to get hold of the valueable leaf. They fight over the note, not paying any attention to the Crow at all anymore.

What happened to the leaf?

The sparrows took it apart. Each and every Sparrow had his part and was quite content with it. On each of those particles there were only one or two notes left. But the Sparrow knew it had been part of the song - The Great Song - as they called it. This is what sparrows keep reciting to this very day. A note or two. And they feel gratified.

What happened to the Crow?

He was silent for a short time. His thoughts burnt his heart. He kept wondering what he had done wrong. Had he been braver would have the sparrows left him? Had he been smarter, would the leaf have not fallen into the bush? He kept repeating those questions until he finally stopped.

He felt that the passion and love he had perceived and lived through while singing the Tune has somehow left him. He tried to sing the song, though, from his memory. It came out like a cracking, like a tin jar in an empty chamber. From that time on, the Crow preferred to wander alone, in castaway places. His discontent has now wore off, but he remembers how his song used to be. And althought he still keeps lamenting about the loss he suffered, he does it in a cautionary tone.

If you see the Crow, don't despise him for his croak. Remember the song he used to have and send his spirit cheerful wishes. He needs it.

a reply to Beth and IllMan

I thought I'd make a separate entry for replying your concerns.
It's not that I'd want to make excuses, nor that I'd want to defend myself.
I try to make it as short as possible.

I agree that teachers are responsible for their kids while they are at school. Anything might happen as kids often tease each other to do various and sometimes dangerous activities. Sometimes kids do things for showing how skillfull they are. I assume the 'dare you do it' effect plays also a very important role in most of these events. They might push each other into doing things they would not do otherwise.

And here comes my part.

I as a mother, do not feel biased in knowing my son. For most of his time he is with me. For most of his time he doesn't want and can't do things without some parent's assistance. He's not handicapped in a physical way, but he gets bored easily and needs a lot of guidance through the various aspects of life. He is interested in a lot of things. Provided that he can have his own way, he'd choose playing/talking with his parents over playing alone. And even if he's playing alone, one of his ears is always with us. We have a small house so there's no hiding (in any way) possible.

Furthermore, he always play safe. He's 10 and I have never ever witnessed him doing anything out of virtue. Whatever he does, he strives for safety. If something blocks him, he gives up and retreats. Plus, he's never been seen panicking. Had he been stucked in between the bars, for instance, he would have stayed calm and waited for some assistance to come.

I am a 100% sure of what I have written about him.

At the same time, had it been any other child, including my daughter, the situation would have seemed really dangerous. Had I heard of any other child doing the same thing, I would have been caused nightmares.

I'm sorry for making it this long, but I think making it clear was well worth it.

praise or punish?

Today I faced one of those moments, when as a parent I had to decide whether to support the official view or to applause the individual's performance.

When I reached school this afternoon to collect my son at 4pm, the head of his class told me she had to give my son a written warning (This is a kind of written punishment for kids at school. It is one of the worst, or most serious punishments - in fact, the written warning given by the Head of the School is the worst and this one comes second) for an especially unacceptable behaviour.

While I was gasping for air, she began describing the sin my son committed.

It turned out that he, with another boy, were running along the hallway (this is alone is considered a moderate crime at schools - isn't that crazy?) towards their room. My son and the other boy went into the room and then left it - through the bars of the window. The classroom is located on the ground floor and there are bars at the windows. The distance between bars are relatively small.

My gut reaction was: wow - my son's gonna be the next Houdini, isn't that a nice ability to escape from a barred window? Isn't it a courage to let yourself fall onto the floor while coming through bars? Isn't your body a miracle to perform this at all?

But I had to suppress my admiration as the teacher kept repeating how dangerous and forbidden that action was.

I had a hard time to cover up my laughter....

When we were alone with my son, I told him how able and skilled he had been. But I also reminded him that this skill had to be practiced somewhere outside the school :)

My husband told me he agreed with me. If our son takes lessons in buildering, than why not let him practicing some bar-climbing, too?

before Easter

Photo was made on Easter Monday, 2006. We set up nests for the Easter rabbit in the garden - so that he was able to place some chocolate and real eggs into those nests. My kids went out in the morning, looking for those little surprises.

We're going to have a school break before the Easter Holidays. Plus, we'll be away for a hiking trip by the River Bodrog. Meaning that there will be less blogging in the forecoming two weeks. Say, between 31 March and 9 April.
In the meantime I'm bravely sticking to my vow of not eating meat for 40 days before Easter. It's something similar to the Catholic fastening, only that I eat - and when I eat, I eat vegetarian. My family, especially my son has started feeling bad about this whole restriction... I might give in and cook something meaty for him for the weekend.

But I won't taste it. In fact adhering to a commitment makes me feel better about myself. Basically, I'm not a vegetarian, but we eat much less meat than the average Hungarian family. Now I eat no meat, no bacons, no chicken, no fish... at all. I started it on Ash Tuesday, February 28.

What? That it was on 21 this year? Oh, hypocricy at its best. Sorry for all those devoted Catholics out there - but making 40 days 46 to allow yourselves to break the rule every Sunday is just not working for me. You either stick to something or not. Sitting on the fence does not work for me. It never did.

I cook for me and my family on a daily routine. The number of take-out or ordered meals verges zero.

Here's a thing I often cook during this 40 (really 40)-day period.

Spinach creme soup - for 3-4 persons.

Ingredients:

a 800g pack of frozen spinach (this comes pre-boiled, shredded) You might use real spinach. For 3-4 persons, you'd need 1 kg fresh leaves. If you have stinging nettle available, substitute some or all of the spinach with it. Garlic cloves, smashed or finely chopped. Use as much as you like. Garlic is unrivalled at keeping unwanted people, including, but not limited to the doctor, away from you. Some flour (1-2 Tablespoons). Water. Salt. Any other herb you feel like adding - but the garlic is inevitable. Oil - olive, if possible, but any sunflower will do as well. Milk, 5-6dl.

Method.

Heat oil in pan. Add garlic. Stir. Salt. Add spinach. Stir. Add flour and stir. Add some water. Bring in milk - that will take the sourness of the spinach away and will give a smooth feeling to the soup. Cook for about 20-25 minutes. When using fresh leaves, you might feel that you need to add the leaves in portions, one after the other. And in this case, if you want a cream soup, you'll have to blend it at the end. With the pack of frozen spinach that is not needed at all.

Your turn: Do you cook/do you cook vegetarian? Would you like me to post more recipes?

on request: Ornamental fowls

Good Mr Schprock asked me about what ornamental fowls were. I am not a specialist - I am unsure if I wish I were....

We started keeping hens for the eggs and a rooster for the hens. I know that today eggs are produced in big factories and I assume most of the hens have never seen a rooster in their whole miserable life. If you have not YET watched The meatrix, I command thee to do so.

* * *

Welcome back.

Feeling any better?

The notion that 'our bodies are what we eat' is beyond question for me. It's not that I always eat organic, but I strive to eat healthy. But let's go back to the animals.

We started keeping old species for they are supposed to be sturdier and although they produce less (either in meat or in eggs), they are easier to keep.

For those who are a bit unfamiliar with hens, according to the terminology of meat industry, there are meat-type, laying-type, and double purpose varieties. And there are the old ones (the traditional species) and the ornamental types.

Here comes a brief history of our stock:

Our flock is quite mixed. We started with 4 Transylvanian Turkens (aka Naked Necked). 3 hens and a rooster. Since the neighbours complained for the noise, we had to give the 'old' rooster away. So, a Japanese pair joined us - a hen and a rooster. Later on, we bought 2 meat-type hens. Unfortunately, due to a repeated attack from a mart, three hens and two chicks died. And finally, we switched the Japanese roo for a nice Hungarian Barred one. With him, we also bought a nice black hen. And just recently, we have bought a Satsumadori hen. Now there are 5 hens and the Roo.

We keep them for the eggs and now (hush!) we are hoping for come hatching to come. It seems that our little Japanese hen has started brooding.

And now let's speak about ornamental animals.

They are kept and bred for their beauty. Usually their use is not that much important. The tendency is high in dog breeding, resulting in some awful, pardon me, beautiful and completely useless, pardon me, totally ridiculous breeds. Breeds that can not be born naturally, can not open their mouth and/or eyes without the surgeon's knife, breeds that are opt to various and sometimes serious diseases just because some lunatic breeder, pardon me, goal-oriented enthusiastic lover of animals has decided that health comes way after looks.

Back to poultry.

Ornamental fowl include, but not limited to pheasants and swans - if you think of very large, well designed and kept gardens. Acres of carefully managed green grass, bushes and trees for the ecosystem, spotted with these wonderful, really big birds... Oh, yes.

But for those who do not own a manor, there is the chance of keeping smaller beauties.

I'm sure the Internet is fully loaded with the pictures of them. I suggest reading Feathersite, where ornamental hens are listed alphabetically.

Here comes a selection of photos I found the most beautiful. All photos are from Feathersite.

The first two pictures depict Turkens - they are NOT ornamental, but the writer of this blog loves them: Buff coloured Turken chicken. Did you know the breed got its name for people thought they were crossed with Turkeys? The thing is that of course they are NOT. Bare-necked animals are much easier to pluck and they appear to have much fewer feathers in other areas of their bodies, too. The Turkens are fun to watch. Older hens resemble old ladies with a little cap on their wrinkled necks.

Below is a photo of a six-day-old black Turken chicken. The breed originates in Transylvania. We (our family) would like to keep more of these (at present we have only one white hen, called Lepke, Butterfly) - for it is a part of our national heritage. As they are local here in the Carpathian basin, they are accommodated to the special climatic and fodder conditions of the territory. Let's stay with Turkens, but move on to ornamental: Introducing the Frizzle Turken. Frizzle is a quality of feathers. It makes the plumage look like fur. A bit stupid idea, in my book, but they attract many by the visible softness of their outfit. This is a white chicken here. And now here's the Satsumadori, of which breed we also own a hen. We call her Sas (Eagle) -for her looks. This is a flock, with a rooster at 8 o'clock. The rest are hens - although the one at 3 o'clock might be a young cockerel...

Allright, now let's see what else I found appealing:

1.) The Brahmans, oh, well, those enourmous animals. These are HUGE. This is a hen - do I I have to add anything else?

2.) The Sebright - the 'chicken that looks like a dove'. This below is a Silver Sebright. They are pretty creatures with a petite frame. I don't trust them being able to push out an egg of 'legal size', though. They are nice to watch, but I doubt their usefulness. I'm sorry to all Sebright lovers out there...

3.) The Wyandotte - they seem to be a healthy medium, with an average sized body and shape. But the colors! My eyes! they are wonderful. The first is a Columbian - a special coloration.

This is a Golden Laced Wyandotte hen with chickens.

This here is called Silver Laced Wyandotte. A rooster.

And finally, a Brown Porcelain Wyandotte hen with chicks. I love how it resembles some wild animal.

on blogging - a MEME

today I found Anniina's been writing on what generally makes her anxious about blogging.

Although I hardly, if ever have the feeling that 'there's nothing really to blog about today', I know that sometimes it is hard to decide on the extent we let the internet into our private lives and thoughts. What if I write on my everyday issues? How interesting would that be? and ont the other hand; what if my out-of-this-wordly bubblings make me seem like imitating being someone else I'm not? Was this sentence English, for that matter, at all?

Can I communicate through to the kind readers to what I REALLY have in my mind? Do I REALLY want that?

But besides those points, I have to tell you that there are other things I'm worried about - so let's see my bloxiety.

1.) There are times I wish I had noone to look at my virtual diary and there are times I wish there were hundreds of people who would come and observe the things I have. This debate splits me into halves.

2.) Sometimes I worry about the stability of my blog. I have nightmares of my blog vanishing into the cables and becoming a 'once upon a time'...

3.) Sometimes I wish my blog was a printed material so that the reader could turn pages back and forth, and read back as much as s/he wanted...

This anxiety combines with the fear that visitors check the first (or the first two) entries and nothing more. All those other entries, good, inspired, revealing, interesting, boring, nondescript alike are jammed up in some subconscious electric garbage - which it is NOT, for Heaven's sake. There are many times when I got so obsessed with this...but then I calm down, asking myself: how many times do YOU (meaning me, SzélsőFa) have been wandering in the archives of other bloggers?

4.) And last, but not least: why, oh, why on Earth do I write this in English? Do people understand? Have I gone completely mad? Being a conservative? What am I doing?

You know what: Let's make it a meme.

Tell me and the world about YOUR bloxiety. Things that worry you about you writing a blog.

Anyway. This blog is my second home. A nest for the tired.
(photo was made by me in April 2006 in our garden)

preface

This is a preface to the Four Little Prayers for the Vernal Equinox. It used to be in the same entry with the prayers, but it grew out of control. So I copied it here, to a separate entry.

I started writing this series of prayers two weeks ago. I've been wanting* to write a prayer for some time now. I wanted it so much it ached. And I was always deterred by having found the lines I wrote meaningless and lame. Some of you might have read my entry called "The Door is Locked" (it was on February 28, you can find it if you go back to the February archives here) - where I wrote about this block I met. I seriously thought about quitting writing in general, but somehow I did not. Was it a failure? A weakness? A delayed decision? A sign of unworthiness? Mediocricity? I am still unsure as of the value of the things I write.

Weeks passed - and ever since then, from time to time, I got this feeling that I must, MUST write this or that down - whether that something comes out neat and enjoyable, whether it's just bullshit and prancing of words... The same happened to me like two days ago when I saw this photo of Poppy Street (for a more exact location, ask IllMan, Glasgow) ...

On a second thought, I address this to all of you blessed/cursed with graphomania... I don't know whether things written in the spur or those that has been elaborated over and over again are better - chances are that none of them** hits the success or content-meter of yours. Or mine, for that matter.

*I was well taught in English lessons that some English verbs do not, or do not usually have a continuous form. Grammar rules and words are there to bend them according to need. So there.
**referring to things I write
***all photos are taken from the Internet, except the forest one...which I made in March 2004. I tried to fit some of my photos to the other parts, but Blogger had another version of this composition in its mind and ate the photos. So I had to take new ones from the web.

Four Little Prayers for the Vernal Equinox

This little piece is here to celebrate the opening of a new season, namely Spring today.

Four little prayers for the vernal equinox

Part I.
Dawn at the River
Here comes the Sun
And with Him
The Spirit of Spring awakes
I feel its rising with every bud stirred
I embrace the flow
Water, come and be the river of life
For the wise old fairy of decay has gone to sleep
And you, you fill us with hope
Water, nourish my body and my soul

Part II.
Noon by the Fire
Spirit of Warmth, advance
Enkindle us up for production, for creation
For enjoying life
Be with us in every moment
For it's time to outgrow the former skin

Part III.
Dusk on the Meadow
Mother Spirit of Earth, your name is Holy
Bloom in peace
Each and every little achievement of yours is Holy, too
You comprise my brothers and sisters
And I am bound to adore you
Rise Spirit of Earth
Fill us with your abundancy

Part IV.
Night in the Forest
The Spirit of Air
Calls upon the scents of moss and mushrooms
The twigs and bushes are a-waiting to wake up
The Moon looks delighted
I am raised and dissolved
In eternity
In sleep
In constant perception
in constant love

Poppy Street - The beginning

The day she entered the Willows' house broke out cloudless. The sunset started flawless, too, when a thick puff of clouds, seemingly having come out of nowhere were rushing towards the west, as if in a hurried attempt to silence the joyous rays of Sun. By the time the evenings settled in, the sky was darkened by a sudden chunk of fog that creeped upwards, slithering from the nearby river. Mrs Willows was confused at the sudden change in the weather, but then shrugged: 'After all, it's wintertime - what am I to expect? Bright lights and cloudless skies when dimness is yet to come?'

Photo by IllMan

Monday Meme: List of Threes

Coming through Anniina - with my added (re-)marks in different colour!

Three songs you've listened to today
* The Partridge Family - I woke up in love this morning
* KD Lang - Hallelujah
* Harry Potter soundtracks over YouTube
Three colors you love
* Black
* Very dark green
* White
Three names of pets you had as a child OR later on
* Ingrid - albino mouse
* Körte - brown mouse
* Niki - a Gordon Setter bitch
Three people you miss
* my grandmother (she's still alive, though)
* my other grandmother (she's gone)
* my father (he's still alive)
Three places you visited last week
* Tesco
* my son's school
* a village fair with ornamental fowls
Three things you said today (to whom)
* No, it is not raining very hard (to my husband)
* Let me kiss you (to my daughter)
* Be well, feel allright, and behave yourself (to my son)
Three people you kissed OR hugged recently
* husband
* my grandfather, in a deep meditation, he's been dead for 3 years now
* my daughter
Three names starting with "A" in your cellphone
* Anya (Mother)
* Anya Vonalas (Mother's vired phone)
* Apa (Dad)
Three awards received
* Russian translation school award (3rd place as far as I recall, back in highschool's 2nd grade)
* Honorable mention of young director at a county-level film-festival (it was a TRULY AWFUL 3-minute movie, it really, really, really sucked)
* and that's it, I can't think of anything else. I am that mediocre. But I am always lifted by those lovely comments I get from my readers - when I post something worthy of a prize, of course.
Three cool singers
* KD Lang
* Ted Neeley
* Kormorán (I know, I know, it's a group and not a singer, but still...)
Three pet peeves
* Police
* People who want to convert you on the streets, waving Watchtowers into your face
* Cars, careless drivers

The original meme contained 3 names for a boy and 3 names for a girl, but considering I do have a boy and a girl, I'm not looking for any more names...if you get what I mean... *giggles*

And, if you've read it this far, AND are in a mode for some fun "TAG, you're IT!"

Some more comments, by me:

I usually like to listen to music while being at home, but sometimes I value silence more. I have not heard of The Partridge Family before this very day, but it was a pleasant surprise. KDLang is one of my favourite singers, so I simply listen to her like an everyday basis. Harry Potter - well, we are watching the series these days, weeks, months. I like the movie :))

Colors: I like almost any color, except pink and pale and or faded colors.

Pets: I had mice and had lots of it. Lots. And I had one dog.

People I miss: we live far away from those people I mentioned. My non-alive grandmother was so full of energy and sunshine, seemingly worryless strong, yet flexible nature. I do miss her, but I do not wish her to be here. She's gone in a very good way, without suffering...

Visited places: I don't go out to places, these were really hard to compile.

Things I said: hah, yes. I did say that to my son.

Names starting with 'A' - in the Hungarian both words mother and father start with 'a', so there you have it.

Awards: I suffered the most with this. I really can't recall anything else.

Cool singers: I like strong voices. Ted has been performing Jesus's role for ages and I have seen him in a recent show (on YouTube, of course) His passion and devotion still shows and that is highly valuable for me. Kormorán stands up for Hungarian culture and traditional values in the midst of all these mass of violent and international blah-music. Go, Kormoran.

Pet peeves: oh, there are many more, but these are those I came up with for this meme. At the same time I hold no revenge. I hate them but the moment they are out of my vision I'm clear of any negative emotions. At leats this is what I strive for.... :)))

Okay, I stopped. It's your turn.

a short notice on the ides of March

I decided to not go to the Budapest celebration of our 1848/49 revolution. According to the news, many of those who share similar political views with me, have decided to do the same - they celebrated by not attending. Did people think it would be dangerous to go to the streets? Did they fear the terror of the police, were they deterred by the events of the last time people went to streets (October 2006) - I don't know. There were some, who spoiled the official speeches - I understand those. People are fed up with what they in the power do and with what they don't.

Still I don't like that there are strong opinions of what we don't want...AND the views towards what we DO WANT are more scattered. There are various ideas and solutions. Our forces are broken for although we agree that this is not good, there is less concensus re: what IS good.

Above is a picture taken on Kossuth tér (Kossuth Square). This is where the Parliament is and the Holy Crown of the Hungarians is housed, too. This is where the protesting took place in October 2006. The police has built a fence and now it is being demolished. Probably in the hope that there will be peace. I doubt that there will be any. It will either be a mass of silently terrorized dissatisfied people OR a violent outbreak OR both. Pessimistic, me? Whoa? What did you say? Well, I admit that more often than not, I'm pessimistic when it comes to politics.

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?