The Holland Trip - Part One: Köln

The bus left my town around 4 PM and arrived to our destination in Holland 4PM the next day.

We spent the night while it was moving. I slept on the little row that was between the seats. Well, it was not really comfortable, but at least my legs were streched out and I was in a horizontal position.

The first photo was made in Köln (Cologne, Germany). It was foggy and a bit cold. We parked the bus on the bank of River Rheine and walked into the heart of the city to see the famous Dome.

The Dome was built in the center, or was it that all the rest of the city was built around the church, later on? The view from the river reveals that the Dome is jammed in among modern buildings. Some might find fascination in the meeting of the old and the new - but for me...it's rather sad. There is not enough room for the otherwise great building to show itself. It is prisoned in between a railway station, a modern music hall of some sort and other, rather ugly buildings.

And when I said the railway station was near, I meant it. See that red line of a train...?

And when you get really close to the Dome, there's another blasphemous act, this time by a shop that sells cameras, films and stuff like that.

I'll be back with less rambling and whining about, but with more interesting stuff...just wait and see...

- on schooling

Dear all,

yes, I'm back.

In fact I returned on October 13, but I was either too damn busy or too lazy to write a proper post, enhanced with photographs about my trip, or both. You decide. And I'm sorry. At the same time the fact that I have so many (paid) jobs to do makes me feel right somehow.

-

At this moment I don't envisage blogging as a regular activity, due to my duties, which, beside my normal job as a translator, at these months are and will be:

1-helping in building and renovating our house

2-pushing my son into a high-school.

He's in the sixth grade now and it's time to move on to a secondary form of education. According to the Hungarian educational system, elementary schools are for either 4, 6 or 8 years.

My son might stay here for another two years, but some recent events forced me to think otherwise.

-

As some of you might remember, my son has quite an experience in schooling. By the 4th grade he's been in three institutions, four classes and homeschooled.

When he entered this school he's in now, I thought he would stay for as long as he can - to have some rest, so to say.

But.

But.

-

He finds the lessons boring, but in another way. His classes are not challenging enough. He needs some more mental feed now. Unfortunately the level of education is set to the intelligence level of the least capable person in the class. Which is a fine thing if 80% of the class is around that particular level - which is, unfortunately the case.

I'm not saying my son is a genius, but...his mates definitely do not match him.

Teachers are forced to keep the level of education low, by laws.

So off we go.

The school we are heaading for is the second best in town.

Keep your fingers crossed.

-

More to come soon, with photos I made in The Netherlands.

High cheers to Bart, whom yes, I did meet!

See the proof below. Me and Bart in the Main Square of Amsterdam.

Reflections of a summer

Dear all, before I disappear into The Netherlands between 8-13 October, I finally managed to upload our photos to our computer. Here they are, I hope you enjoy them.

---

First of all, we had lots of chicken.

We found tha many of our young hens wished to have their own litter so they started brooding. Modern technologies de-select this ability and those unfortunate little chicken all hatch in incubators, without a caring mother. But there are many people, who keep animals the traditional way. It's their choice and ours as well. It does matter where and what you buy.

Older and non-purebreed varieties however, do tend to lay a certain number of eggs and then start sitting over the eggs. Below are two of our Japanese-mixed brooding hens with their respective little flock/litter (?)

The black one (called Korom) is the dominant. She and her chicks are being fed from a plate. The barred one (Pincebogár) approaches, and notices the food.

Pincebogár keeps coming closer but she is afraid. She's mimicking a fake attack, with wings streched out, she wishes to appear bigger than she really is. Korom does not seem to care about her at all. She is relaxed, she has absolutely no fear of the other hen.
Below is a close ups of the feeding. They are given hard-boiled eggs, for the protein replacement.

Baby chicken are extremely fragile. Their legs are like threads. From time to time, they fall asleep in the middle of any activity, as this one, while standing on the plate. This is normal.

Summer also meant the continuation of the renovations in and around the house. I am standing here below in our kitchen-to-be, and mark where the electric outlets should be. Yes, those are arrows stuck into the ground. Those are supposed to mark where the sink, kitchen cabinets, and other utilities should be. We were playing a plan-a-kitchen, you know :). Practically speaking, I'm standing stand where the dishwasher will stand.

This is my DH, plastering the wall beside the front door, from the inside of the house. Note the ceiling. It's all hand made and wooden.

As for social activities, I had my 20 year high school class reunion. This photo was made in the restaurant. I am not on the photo. We had a nice quiet evening. It started with everyone telling his/her story of the past 20 years. Only classmates and former teachers were invited. Many of the class lives abroad, and one of them was here via a webcam from NYC. Zsuzsa was my best girlfriend in high school and now her husband (also Hungarian) is working at the Columbia University. She also studied and became a PhD in chemistry (was is physics?), but what with four kids...She's now an assistant to his husband. I miss her.

This is a close up of the dinner table - an all you can eat, partly supplied by us.

That's all for now.

Tomorrow 4PM our bus's heading North.

Bart, here I come.

Cheers,

SzF.

October forecast

Dear all,

as you have probably noticed, I do frequent your blogs. In fact I visit yours more often than I do mine.

The reason?

Yours are more interesting :)))

Chris for example entertains us with a brilliant photo. In fact, I did laugh out loud for a couple of minutes after having enlarged it to its full and pure brilliance.

Aine has a blog. That should speak for itself. I command anyone interested in the human soul and the beauty of life go and see for himself.

The ever-witful Bernita has a debate on the presence and likelihood of ghosts. Worth a trip, as usual.

Ewen has a new photo-blog. He's definitely got the eye. Or, rather, two. His photos are better than my puns.

-

And I am sorry for the rest I left out intentionally yes, because the list would have been endless.

-

And now some words about the state of events at this side of the world. We renovate, build and do some more of the same thing. At the same time we desperately seek to earn some money to back up our fancy of having a comfortable house.

We keep raising chicken as per ususal. In fact we have now as many chicken we lost count.

Kids are fine.

Weather is so not fine.

It's cold and raining.

Blah.

-

And finally, some good news!!!

I'm going to The Netherlands between 8-13 October, to meet Bart.

No, not really, I'm on an official trip, but I might have the chance to meet my fellow blogger.

*keep fingers crossed*

-

Cheers to all,

SzF.

Bon appetit

This is a meme about food.

I borrowed it from HERE - thanks for the idea, but yes, I did spice it up by changing the directions, which now are the following:

1) Copy this list into your blog or journal, including these instructions.

2) Bold all the items you’ve eaten, or are planning to eat in the foreseeable future.

3) Italicize any items that you would never consider eating.

4) Add a special treat at the end by adding 1-2 more to the list that you think probably NOONE ELSE has ever tasted in your circle of friends. Put them at the bottom of your list and mark them with ***s.

5) Mark with a special color those you have prepared at least once at home.

6) Return the f(l)avour by letting me know about you doing this fun meme.

1. Venison

2. Nettle tea (one of my favourite herb tea)

3. Huevos rancheros (it's almost like a normal ham and eggs)

4. Steak tartare

5. Crocodile

6. Black pudding (AKA Blood Sausage)

7. Cheese fondue

8. Carp

9. Borscht

10. Baba ghanoush

11. Calamari - no, but I have tasted shrimps. *shudders*

12. Pho (c'mon, it's broth with veggies!)

13. PB&J sandwich

14. Aloo gobi (basically it's potatoes with cauliflower, topped with cheese and baked in an oven. I'm sure to have made something similar.)

15. Hot dog from a street cart

16. Epoisses (we call them camambert cheese)

17. Black truffle

18. Fruit wine made from something other than grapes

19. Steamed pork buns

20. Pistachio ice cream

21. Heirloom tomatoes (what's the big deal?)

22. Fresh wild berries (anyone has not picked and tasted wild berries in the wild is definitely missing something)

23. Foie gras (a.k.a. goose liver paté. It is traditional in Hungary.)

24. Rice and beans (what? why? why not?)

25. Brawn, or head cheese (again, this is traditional over here)

26. Raw Scotch Bonnet pepper

27. Dulce de leche (it's definitely on my to-do list)

28. Oysters

29. Baklava

30. Bagna cauda (as in #27. I love garlic)

31. Wasabi peas

32. Clam chowder in a sourdough bowl (one of my favourite when in a restaurant)

33. Salted lassi

34. Sauerkraut (a tradition for winter)

35. Root beer float
36. Cognac with a fat cigar
37. Clotted cream tea

38. Vodka jelly/Jell-O (why do these nasty things accummulate - 4 of them nasties in a row?)

39. Gumbo

40. Oxtail (it makes a brilliant soup)

41. Curried goat (goatmeat smells, I'm sorry)

42. Whole insects (whoa! Hell no!)

43. Phaal - I have not yet tasted it, but I'm not a fan of really hot dishes.

44. Goat’s milk

45. Malt whisky from a bottle worth £60/$120 or more

46. Fugu

47. Chicken tikka masala (as in #27)

48. Eel

49. Krispy Kreme original glazed doughnut

50. Sea urchin

51. Prickly pear (see also No. 27. Unfortunately it is not grown in Hungary.)

52. Umeboshi (As with any other, formerly unknown food I did some google search. Uhm...thanks, I'd rather not.)

53. Abalone

54. Paneer

55. McDonald’s Big Mac Meal

56. Spaetzle

57. Dirty gin martini (I think I had a gulp or two like ages ago. That was all)

58. Beer above 8% ABV

59. Poutine (as in No.21)

60. Carob chips

61. S’mores (the result of my google search made my stomach ache. Pffft.)

62. Sweetbreads (Ouch. I do eat liver, testicles, but this is waaay too much)

63. Kaolin (The one who put kaolin on the list of food was surely kidding. It's like saying:lime powder. Or ground bricks.)

64. Currywurst (see also Sweetbread. Plus, my father used to work in a meat factory. He used to tell me stories about how this kind of stuff is made to look acceptable. Trust me. This is not food. Real muscles and eggs, bacon and all - those can't deceive you. But a wurst is a potentially dangerous mix in disguise.)

65. Durian (Have not. Why not?)

66. Frogs’ legs

67. Beignets, churros, elephant ears or funnel cake (I felt google just puked a picture of it onto my monitor. Blah. I'd rather stay hungry)

68. Haggis (Have not. Why not - a home-made real haggis can not be bad, after all.)

69. Fried plantain (I thought bananas were made sweet...)

70. Chitterlings, or andouillette (hmmmm....unsure. Some days I'd say yes.

71. Gazpacho (the best soup for a hot summer day)

72. Caviar and blini

73. Louche absinthe

74. Gjetost, or brunost (This is yet to come, but I'd love to meet a specimen along my life. I like old cheese.)

75. Roadkill

76. Baijiu

77. Hostess Fruit Pie

78. Snail

79. Lapsang souchong

80. Bellini

81. Tom yum (I don't think I have tried it, but...why not?)

82. Eggs Benedict (another item aspiring for *the silliest item on the list* award)

83. Pocky (I mean...are those edible?)

84. Tasting menu at a three-Michelin-star restaurant

85. Kobe beef (No, to my greatest sorrow. I'd love to, yes, yes!)

86. Hare

87. Goulash (mwah-hah-hah. I'm from Hungary, remember? But I bet there are many types of goulashes all over the world. And in Hungary, there are as many types as households. Even the goulashes I make are different from one another)

88. Flowers

89. Horse (horse meat is put into sausages, so, it's far too obvious again)

90. Criollo chocolate (I have not tried, but I'm a fan of pure chocolates)

91. Spam (uhm... are those edible?)

92. Soft shell crab

93. Rose harissa (looks/sounds like fun)

94. Catfish

95. Mole poblano (No encounters here as well, but the pictures look yummy)

96. Bagel and lox

97. Lobster Thermidor

98. Polenta

99. Jamaican Blue Mountain coffee

100. Snake

101. Cleansed intestines of a chicken in a soup. ***

102. Blackbird.***

Quiz

The above photo is a Spanish-language ad for tourists.
Do you have any comment on it?

eternal

as the last letter turns itself off the branch

and meets Earth to return

to survive

and to feel the glory of life again;

my hands feel yours and my eyes sink into yours

for all the times

.

.

.

breathe in / breathe out

.

.

.

as the light fades off to the darkness of night

that never really comes

lest it turns into light again

my mind wonders no further away for

it found the rest, the final, the one

within you

.
.

.
breathe in / breathe out
.
.
.

I see that one final door opening

I feel no pain

words have no meanings

I have lost them all

to gain peace

Floating high above, sinking beneath all

we are here

and there

within all quietness

.

.

.

breathe in / breathe out

.

.

.

update with photos

We've returned from this event almost a month ago - but I've been absent from the blogosphere. Now I'm catching up: visiting your blogs, trying to recollect my thoughts, gathering my old self; where there is a new one, too.

It shall be a peaceful merge, I know.

-

Last weekend we had our 20th High School Reunion Evening. This is an event when former classmates meet and inform each other about their fate since highschool years. This time the evening went well beyond a shallow informative meeting. Those who cared to visit the bittersweet rejoice, had a great time together.

We refreshed some of the old events, but we also peeked into each other's present-day soul.

-

The photos below were made during the Kurultaj (see the post right below):

There were vendors allowed in the area. This is a picture of a cake made especially for the occassion.

There were horsemen of various kinds. These are short-legged smaller horses. Neither saddles, nor any other instruments are used.

Yurts under the mighty August sky.

photos about Kurultaj

For a while my computer played a game of not beng able to display any of my August photos. It seems that some of those are lost forever. But since ALL my Kurultaj photos are still on my camera, I re-loaded them to my PC.

Above is one of those.

It depicts my son, aged 12, playing with a paper aeroplane he made.

This photo sums up what effect the event had on us.

For it was natural, easy-going, made-by-us, and most of all, uplifting.

See his feet, some inches off the ground?

- - -

to be continued...

Kurultaj

Dear all,

this weekend we are taking part in an event that is supposed to be a large-scale celebration in honor of our long lost relatives, who are coming to the Carpathian basin for this occassion. People of this nation call themselves madjars. The name, pronounced, resembles magyar, ie: Hungarians. These people are coming from Kazakhstan, where they are a minority. They do not look like present-day Hungarians, but their closest genetical cousins are the Hungarians, a recent study revealed.

Their myths and old folk tales are not unlike those of ours.

Only a few of Hungarians have heard of this relationship, but now it's time to meet and join together for the second time. The first meeting was held in their homeland, now we are the hosts. I have already written a post about this event: HERE.

Events of the weekend will include a ceremonial greating, a special 'Feast of the Magyars', a display of traditional arts and crafts, and also of traditional martial arts. There will be lots of singing and drumming. Various authors and researchers will hold lectures on ancient values in folk art and religion. There will be a special yurt, where ancient methods of healing will be explained and shown. One of the evenings will climax in a special ceremony that is called "walking on the fire".

All information I used are from the official site of the event.

We are going wild!!!

I'll be back with photos!

- - -

And now some explanation about my not really being present here:

This is the new door of the bathroom - as you see, it's not completely installed:

This is an earlier photo of my husband doing the wall between the bathroom and the kitchen. My daughter is helping him by handing bricks up. There is a gap between the wall-in-the-making and the chimney where my daughter waits. That place is reserved for the oven, which is yet to be built.

Chris and her team blog HERE is featuring a campaign at the end of August that supports making reading more easy and available for kids. This is a program of her homeland, and she wants to do a small research on what kind of books would kids love to WRITE.

I'll be interviewing my kids and will be sending the answer via email directly to Chris. I'm asking you to do the same: ask kids and support this movement.

For details, go over to Chris's blog at HERE.
- - -
In the meantime, we (me and husband) are working on our house. DH is building the chimney and various inner walls, and also he's laying the floor on the second floor of the house.

I have just finished treating the wooden planks with a special, copper-based natural liquid against fungal infection and damn, my eyes hurt...Not only that liquid smells putrid and acid, it stings your eyes, nose and whatnot.

But it turns wood into a nice greenish-blue :)

- - -

My kids are having their holiday with their maternal grandparents. They booked an apartment for a week beside Lake Balaton and I bet they are having more fun than we do at home.

Once the kids are back home again, they'll be helping us again.

Their help involves cleaning the bricks, helping out with the chicken, harvesting tomatoes, cucumbers, parsley leaves, basil, and making salad. My son has learned using the pancake machine and has twice made a complete dinner for four people.

- - -

Here are some more photos of our canoe trip. I hope you enjoy them.

This is what we see from the inside of our newest tent. Yes, we have more than one. Actually, we have three. Putting up this one only takes a minute.

My son and my daughter rowing in front of me. By the end of the third day, they both rowed quite well and sufficiently. My son is stronger, but if you take a closer look, it is my daughter who rows regularly. She likes to keep the rules :)

This photo was made in Sárospatak by my daugher.

The only time we had lunch in a restaurant. This is celeriac cream soup with croutons.
And yes, this is a family, too. White storks: landmarks of the Hungarian countryside.

A photo update

Dear all,
So, we've returned safely and survived canoeing.

We had some rain and some sunburn, and we're back with sore muscles and dirty clothes. But most of all, with lots of photographs.

Since my Guess The Movies contest proved uninteresting, I quitted. I may return with it. For those who entered: Ropi, Aine, IllMan, Vesper and Ello - your points are stored and will be counted upon once the time is ripe enough to continue the series.

In the meantime I put up some pictures.

The ferry on River Bodrog at the small village of Felsőberecki, between 47 and 48 kilometres. The zero kilometre is at Tokaj, where Bodrog meets River Tisza.

Boarding at Sárospatak. Please note the castle at the other bank.

The clock tower on the innermost yard of the castle. Some part of the castle is left ruined, some are restored - those serve as a museum.

The main entrance.

A railway bridge accross River Bodrog somewhere below Sárospatak.

Morning lights at Bodrogolaszi, where we camped the second night.

The second day was mostly sunny. This photo above was made hours before a short shower came. It depicts a canoe and a friendly bank with lots of summer sky.

This is me swimming in one of the backwater branches of Bodrog, near Tokaj.


We are approaching Tokaj, my daughter is in the front of the canoe, the other kid and is mother are our friends.

Contest entry

It is strange what different ideas are ignited by one single photograph in various people's heads, isn't it? Some people go romantic, some thriller, some go into descriptive vignettes some into surprising actions in suspense pieces - all coming from one photo. It is interesting how many language and style Muses speak.

It's like entering the very same substance into various machines in a row and the outcome is so diversified you have hard time noticing the sameness of the input.

-

My version is titled The white room and is available for reading at Jason's site.

Please go over and read as much entries as you can - they are exciting and well written.

writing contest and some update

Jason at The Clarity of Night is having a writing contest titled 'Running Wind'.

I don't think I'll enter, head exploding, and nerves decomposing, but I'll be sure to be there to read the entries.

There are always lots of inspiring, clever and sometimes, heart-breaking, but most of all, nicely written stories of all kinds.

I suggest you to visit this great contest! You may also enter with your ideas - the community is welcoming, too.

-

Also, I won't have any Internet connection between 17-20 July, as we are heading to a canoe trip on the River Tisza with friends and family. I will supply you with photos.

-

In the meantime we are working on the renovations and building of our house and I don't have much time and patience for blogging. Nor do I have the quietness needed to get the hints from my Muse :(

-

Have a great summer, I'll return whenever I'm in an absolute need of saying something. In other words, I'm taking a nap from blogging.

Guess The Movie - Round Four

Although many of my frequent visitors gave their best at guessing the movies, I was just about to get slightly disappointed by the low success of this series, when kind Vesper's praise brought my faith back.

Even if not for creating an overly popular series, these helped me to learn to convey the athmosphere and meaning of a film into words. In other words: from what I saw to what I feel.

I really enjoyed writing the installments, and yes, I have all the ten ready... I toyed with different types of interpretation, from a close first person POV to a general view of the events...

-

Summer is difficult for parents: school's closed and it's the parent that has to entertain the kid. Unless said parent wants said kid to be entertained by computer games and the like. It's not that my kids can not play with the computer - oh yes they can. But then there's the limit which I am to keep, and to make them learn to keep for themselves.

How's your summer going?

-

About the series:

for the rules, go back HERE.

Round One

Round Two

Round Three

The solutions will not be given away, not until the tenth is over. It means that anyone can go back to get more points.

There are hints, now given out upon request.

-

The fourth is here!!!!

-

A smallish box with worn lids lies unopened. Small hands are reaching out, they are opening the box.
We have a long stare at the treasure: a few crayons, an old, broken watch with a metal chain, glass balls, beads, filler pen, coins, two dolls made of soap (a couple), a magnet from a fastener, a metal whistle. Everything’s small.
A child is humming. She starts drawing with one of the dark crayons. The crayon seems large among her fine fingers.
What is she drawing? A flower? Set of waving lines?
It is a bird.
She laughs and tears the bird out of the paper.
There’s black emptiness where the bird used to be.
- - -
A suburban area with a row of houses with trees.
...back in those days, days lasted 24 hours, but seemed longer. There was no hurry, nowhere to go, nothing to buy, no money to buy it with, although we have been told recently that we have nothing to fear but fear itself. That summer I was six years old...
- - -
The girl jumps off the tire she’s been hanging on to greet a man in his 50s. He’s carrying a large sack, half full to the back of the yard. The sack looks heavy. The man’s movements are rough; he’s tired.
Good morning Mister C-.
Morning, Miss.
He does not want to bother him.
The girl would like to call her father to help the man out so she keeps running towards the backdoor. She wears jeans and has a boys’ haircut. She calls inside for her daddy.
A man is his late thirties, wearing a suit and a tie appears in the doorway. He’s busy tying his wrist cuffs.
Good morning Walter he says and starts getting down on the steps towards the older man.
The old man hands over the sack and leaves in a slightly confused way.
The young man asks her daughter not to call him next time Mr C- comes. The daughter does not understand. Her father explains that the old man probably does not like to be thanked. They leave the back door and go round the house to enter from the front. But they stay on the front porch. The girl toys with the dry stems of a rose that grows onto the porch; her father picks up the morning paper.
Why is he bringing you this stuff?
That’s the way he pays me for some legal stuff I did for him.
Why does not he pay in cash?
That’s the only way he can. He has no money.
Is he poor?
Yes.
Are we poor?
We are indeed.

- - - -

Beware: this music video is completely unrelated. I put it up b/c I love Nina Simone. That's all. I hope you enjoy 'My man's gone now'.

The face on the wooden door

Foreword: This ruined gate used to serve as an entrance to a village manor of some Hungarian nobleman. His name turned unimportant, the house is abandoned and in bad condition and there are guardsmen behind the fences.

The stone-gate is still there.

There is a beautiful carving at the top of the armor of Hungary.

The gate witnessed the coming and going of horses, oxen, carts and countryfolk. All but memories, faint whispers now.

The gate is still a witness, a keeper of time.

I saw it on the June 14.

It spoke to me - hear the words I captured this very day, on 25 June.

Have you seen the face
Of mold
Tissues disappearing beneath
Every breath than comes along
Takes you deeper within
To let you out
Into

Where I used to be

Where there is but a door
An aged wooden surface you touch
With naked fingers
To hurt the skin
And soothe the soul

Butterflies stupefied
Ramble in the mist
Hissing of puffs
And they blunder how feeble
Their wings are

Ever wondered….?

Take the mirror
And take it now.

Guess the Movie - Round THREE

I have the results, but you can still go back and try your knowledge of movies....

The rules are HERE.
So, please read the third part down below. Hints are given out on request via email.

It worked the last time, it should work this time as well.

----

I had my own business. While others pretended having fun in their long silk gowns and tail-coats in ballrooms, I had a terrible headache. I was quite far away from those fancy dresses and elegant perfumes.
I used to live at the edge of town, where people had their lunch in the streets and were happy if they had anything at all. Under the bridge, on crap sites – it was out of question. It was food and it quieted hunger.
I have deliberately chosen this apartment. The sign said ‘Cheap Hotel’, but it was just as cheap as any other house in the row. Back in those days, cars were a rarity out there. Kids used to play in the street; stupid, ignorant fellas in short shorts. I avoided them all the time.

That day I had a tremendous headache. I really had nothing to do; nothing, except waiting. My fingers toyed with a fresh cigar as I contemplated the walls, when Mrs. Hills entered. The landlady scrimmages around me like a mother; she’s kind of annoying so I keep staring at the walls. She even keeps gathering things off of the floor. I don’t mind her sniffing around as long as she leaves me alone. She has a habit of talking too much, also. This habit of hers now interferes with my headache. I close my eyes which she mistakes for tiredness. Oh, my, she keeps talking. Is it headache? Is it suppressed fear? Is it the excitement of the inevitable? Are they those people?
She informs me about what I have already suspected. Those guys must have been following me since…Wait, since when?
My thoughts are interrupted by her drawing the blinds down. With a final ‘You need a real rest’, she’s gone, finally.
Those two men…- What if I…What if I don’t….…- my hands form into a solid fist. My guts shiver and shrink. So there be it. I take the glass. I’m having the last draught. My head is about to split. I don’t scream; I never do. The glass meets the sink. There, there, I know what I should do. I have my ways, you betcha.

Lifting the blinds I sneak a look at them. ‘What do you know? You’re bluffing. You know nothing of me.’

I have to leave and I have to leave now. The sooner the better. Those fools will just see. Heh, they will not see. There they stand, pretending not to have noticed me, but I feel their eyes around me. Their eyes have watched me stepping out of the hotel and now I’m passing right beside them. What a clever game. But I’m the cat, guys.

They pretend not to have noticed me at all, but their eyes are bored into my back as I take a street to the center of town. I know they are following me, but I have the advantage of knowing one more thing much better than they do: the fine structure of streets, demolished lots, stairways and shortcuts.
I watch them from above as they stand clueless behind the gate. Get up earlier if you want to get me, dudes. The cigar feels fine now again.

My next step in the scenario is to leave a telegram to Santa Rosa, California. The text is stupid I know, but who cares.
I read it aloud anyhow. ‘I’m coming out to stay with you for a while, stop.’

A more funnier contest

Chris's doing it again and now she thought BIG.
- as per usual.
Many great authors and lots of great books to munch on.
Follow me and head over to Roast a Book!
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In the meanwhile, hints are being sent via email to those who wish to participate my Guess the Movie (GTM) series. We have one guess so far, from Aine. I've sent out the first guess to three more of my regular readers, so more guesses are to be expected in the coming days.....
I will NOT tell the correct answer right here and now, so you can all have a guess later on during the course of the series.
Part Three will be coming next Monday, June 23.
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Also, here are some totally unrelated photos of our past weekend.

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.