Stirring My Thoughts

Championship

2011-03-14T18:37:00.003+01:00

Not just any kind of it, oh no! It was the national championship in archery. I qualified and so did my son. My Main Squeeze accompanied us which I found very nice and reassuring.

This year they organized it 215 kilometres away and I was supposed to be there by half past eight in the morning. In Slovenia, mind you, which is so small that you actually have to think hard to make someone travel that far. I have just used Google maps to find out how far the furthest place in Slovenia is from here - believe it or not, you can hardly reach 300 kilometres!

Anyway, I didn't want to leave home at half past four in the morning and actually compete that day, so I looked for a place to stay. As early as always, I found out everything had already been booked by more diligent archers, thinking more than a week ahead.

As lucky as I am (I actually tend to be lucky when my mind fails me, or my memory in most cases and even my credit cards have proved that by waiting for me in the most inappropriate places or finding their way back to me :)) ), I found this nice couple not more than ten minutes away from the sports hall where the championship took place. I could actually practice my English, can you imagine? And see our country through the eyes of someone coming from another part of the world.
But talking in Slovene would be just as nice, of course, when you're talking to nice people, such as our hosts.

I spent two wonderful days. Not only I entered two competitions (and came last both times), I also cheered for my son (not loudly, I don't dare shout when he's shooting), I also saw a part of our country which I had not seen before and I must admit it's very nice. My son was more successful than me even if he took the 10th place while I ended up in the 9th.

It's interesting how attractive archery can be if it's organised the right way. You can't say duels are boring. The archers still shoot at the targets, not at each other, of course. But they compete in pairs against each other. And the best one qualifies for the next round. Not me, but you know what I mean. I'd love to upload some photos and I will as soon as I get them and as soon as I delete some from my web gallery.

Last place? Well, I did have some bad luck with my equipment. I managed to break the berger button less than a week before the championship. And once you change that (or any other part), nothing is really the same. Only two weeks ago I reached a score which would take me one or two places higher.

Never mind, next year there will be another national championship and I'm sure I can qualify again and do better. If not, I can still meet the same great people at the competition and enjoy doing a sport together with the people I love.

And God knows which part of our vast country I will be discovering next year!

USA vs SLOVENIA?

2011-02-18T17:13:00.005+01:00

Nope, Delgado vs. Zavec. Go Dejan!

I am always annoyed by arrogant people. And Delgado came to Ljubljana to "take the red belt back to where it belongs - to the USA"! Jerk!

I mean, if he wins it, okay, may the best man win and as far as I know it our world champion can keep the title or lose it. And he's aware of that. He knows Delgado is good (we all know Dejan Zavec is good) and he accompanied Delgado's words and his dramatic tearing of the poster announcing the fight in half - with a smile. Knowing, of course, that Delgado is, after all, American and a show was to be expected. But still, his atitude sucks.

Have a good fight tonight, you two, may the best man win. But I sure hope it's Dejan (btw, it's pronunced Deh-yan) and I sure hope he kicks his ass well (punches his nose, that is). If anything else happens, so be it. But until then, this is the right place for the red belt.

Thoughts of today

2011-02-13T21:13:00.004+01:00

My head is spinning. Why?

It's just too full of thoughts, not having unloaded them here for such a long while, lazy me ... It's going to explode any minute and it won't look nice, I'm telling you! Make sure to keep a safety distance when that happens!

Yesterday I went to a competition. Archery. Yep. Full of hopes (not really, I have nothing much to expect), I was dissapointed soon after the trial shots. The trial series, you see, are usually alright. Quite good. But then ... I don't know what it is ... fear? And I wanted nothing but a decent result not to be ashamed of. Didn't happen. And I KNOW I can do better. And I do it for fun - so, why should I be bothered so much that it makes me shoot like shit? Sorry, that wasn't nice.

Usually the co-competitors at the same target talk a little (even when I was in Italy and my Italian really isn't too good), but this time we just didn't click. This woman I was shooting with - I know she's a gret person, but somewhat more serious than me or a different character or ... something. Anyway, I realized it was me not talking, not connecting, it just didn't work. Not that it would have mattered had I been shooting the way I can, but still, the atmosphere just wasn't right.

And I had to admit - and I did it out loud - sorry, I'm so cranky I can hardly stand myself. I feel like I should open the lid (like the top of my head) and let some of that out. I'm so terrible I must be radiating negative energy around me. Sorry for that.

In Italy a man said, "Ogni gara e una storia." - each competition is a story. Another story. I couldn't agree more.

The other day I was in Italy together with my MS and my son. My son did quite well and we thought he would win. He was better than the others in his category and there were only a few more to compete in the last "shift". Two or three of his friends, we thought, then it turned out there was only one - and that one wasn't good enough. And there was this Italian kid whom my son beat twoo weeks earlier with a score 529 (so the Italian guy had fewer points than that). And now my son's score was 563, so it's probably out of the other guy's reach.

We watched him shoot. One ten after another. And a nine. no eights. He was so good that when he didn't hit a ten WE were actually sorry. So concentrated. He must have done some serious work in these two weeks. Well done. Congratulations, gold for him and silver for my son. Italians, you see, are very serious about archery with about 2 000 000 archers (2 000 000 is the population of Slovenia, BTW), but they make lots of these nice cosy competitions.

But yesterday!!! Geeeez!!! 317 (out of 600!!!!) - who goes on a competition to achieve THAT!!!

Am I stupid or what?

Some things have happened since I last posted that are so much nicer than archery (and I still love archery). Remember I became I great aunt in April? Well, on 20th December two more great-nieces wee born. Two months early, but very healthy. Haven't had a problem since. Her parents (my first niece and her "husband") didn't alow visitors for some time and I think that was the only possible right decision in the time of flu and other viral infections.

Ahhh... and they're so so cute.

My head is a bit better now - I guess I should do this more often.

Advice

2010-12-01T19:38:00.003+01:00

We were driving from our archery practice last night - my Main Squeeze, my son and me. It was freezing cold and the wind in our town was building up its tremendous power. Nasty. Not as nasty as on March 10th, but still. Not nice at all.

There are these signs on the motorway on such occasions, saying that the large lorries and refrigerators should leave the motorway as they will not be allowed to go further.

We were just on the exit, out of the motorway (because we were home, not too large) when we saw a huge lorry with a trailer approaching it. Knowing that foreigners don't take these warnings so seriously, I said to my son: "Blink a few times with the headlights (would you use "blink" here?) and he did. The lorry stopped and the driver opened the window when we had already moved forward. He was still standing there, so we reversed a little, I went out (you could hardly hear anything that was a meter away) and he asked about the sign. I told him:

"Don't go. It's dangerous. Go back." I accompanied my words with suitable gestures as I wasn't sure the Slovak driver understood.
"Ahh. It's closed?"

So he understood? Good.

"Yes. Don't go. It's really dangeros. It wll turn your lorry over!"
"I see."
"And if you continue, the police will stop you anyway."
"Oh, the police?"
"Yes. You really shouldn't go. Don't."
I turned back to our car, he thanked me and we went our separate ways.

We wen't home and he - believe it or not - continued his way on the motorway.

Like?

2010-11-29T19:33:00.004+01:00

Today and yesterday and the past weekend have been dark glooomy days, cold and windy and snowy and rainy and a bit depressing and frustrating. Sigh.

Thank God I had to go to work, otherwise I would have probably just ordered pizza and not leave the house at all. But then, I did see those few rays of sun that make life less dark and less gloomy and even if not, an adult should be able to rationally decide that the weather cannot rule our lives completely. Yes, it is difficult and irritating if you come back all frozen if you only go to the nearest petrol station to fill the tank but then realize you have to really hold the door or it will be blown away or at least damaged. And you sit in the car which is swinging left and right. Not nice. "Ne dobro", a British friend of my daughter's would say. Ne dobro at all. But then, at least I got to be at home most of the day. My daughter, for instance, spent most of Friday in the car. And why? Our road company (or whatever I should call it) does not clean the roads untill there is 10 cm of snow. Makes sense. But the huge lorries only learn by making mistakes: Will I make this climb (a few degrees is more than enoug for trouble)? Let me see. Ooops. Nope. I can't. In Slovenia you have to have winter tyres or good summer tyres+snowchains from the 15th November to the 15th March. Otherwise it can be quite expensive if the police stop you. And this law exists only because it happened too often that the traffic stopped because of the drivers with bad tyres.
And my dear daughter spent more than seven hours in the car for the trip that usually takes about two.

Anyway, it was quite normal this morning and now it's dark because the sun set a while ago. It does so every day.

And I will not whine about the dark and the cold and the weather - I choose not to - but I did need some more colour.

Now how do you like it?

Election time

2010-10-25T19:27:00.006+02:00

We had Mayor election yesterday. Yep! We could have elected a new mayor in our town, but guess what - we elected the old one that cannot always behave and who has only learned a little how to speak in public over his two mandates of being a mayor. Oh well ... I have no trust or very little in any kind of politics anyway. He's not THAT bad and who knows if his opponent is actually any better. More elegant, yes and a much better speaker and the old one is independent while the one "not meant to be" (obviously) had the support of five parties. Seeing it written just now - maybe he deserves to remain in this position.

The other thing about this election that I find interesting is the new mayor of one of our coastal towns, Piran. I didn't find it that strange, seeing it on the news, hearing him represent himself, hearing people say all those nice things about him. I wasn't astonished or not even surprised to hear that he won the election. But now that I see all those foreign articles, I think to myself: "Well, maybe it is just a little unusual after all". Anyway, he seems to enjoy the trust of many people and that's what matters. He's just as likely to prove them right or wrong as anybody. Don't you think? See for yourself:

The Hindu

Reuters

BBC News

etc. etc.

Back to ...

2010-09-05T18:23:00.006+02:00

... school, mostly. And blogging. My summer break was very full this year (what on earth have I been doing?) and I somehow didn't feel like writing. Besides I've been waiting for my weekly dosage of chuckles, but the connection with Canada has broken down, apparently. I hope not. I hope Skye simply doesn't feel like writing and will change her mind the way I have.

Anyway, in summer I didn't really go anywhere. I organized one of my "virtual classrooms" in Moodle with about fifty or sixty exercises. I think it will help me during the year. I will be able to assign some homework that will practically get corrected by itself. Cool!

I've been shooting a lot. It's funny how this sport makes you active, although it doesn't really look that way. Well, it does. You can actually sweat. You have to pull this string - mine takes 28 pounds of force to pull. A hundred times in a row - maybe two hundred, walking 40 metres to the target and 40 back - or 50 or 60 one way... You do get some exercise.

I've been to Croatia. Not to the seaside, like many other Slovenians, but to an archery competition. And I actually won a medal, LOL! I loved it! I was shooting at 40 metres with my barebow and made quite a few hits and got some constructive criticism which should have helped me. It didn't really - according to the next competition, 900 rounds which took place yesterday. Well, there will be others and I can practice. And HAVE FUN. It's funny how women meet in these competitions. About my age, shooting barebow - we are mostly the mothers of younger archers. Surprise, surprise. You just try and take your child to an archery practice and wait for an hour or so - watching archery. ARCHERY!! I'm telling you, this is definitely one of the most boring sports to watch. TO WATCH, I said, not to do. I was happy for my Main Squeeze yesterday, though. Marko was quite good and won a bronze medal. Yaaay!

At school we finished what we started last school year. A boy passed the exam he had to in order to get a 2 in English (Our grades: 1 - insufficient, 2 - sufficient, 3 - good, 4 - very good, 5 - excellent). He did. Good! He could go to his chosen secondary school then. I wish him good luck, knowing there will be some tricky parts on his road to success in life, though.

Conferences, new plans, constant changes. One of them was that three of our colleagues retired. I'll write a little about that. Not now, though, I'm already getting too long.

Hope you're all okay and adapting successfully to the new rhythm with the school going on again. That's life - what would holidays be without school?

Take care and don't forget to have fun!

Bloggers' Meeting

2010-05-16T17:54:00.008+02:00

Before I had this blog, I used to write another one. In Slovene, my mother's tongue. I stopped posting there some time after I started posting here. Just happened.

My brother had a blog way before I did.
Through blogging you get to know people. From their posts and from their comments. There is this blogger, Bin (short for Albin) who writes poetry. And WHAT POETRY! I just love it. So I still sometimes write a comment or two under his posts. Or to my brother’s.

So this blogger, Bin (short for Albin), decided it was time for us to get to know each other. He invited us to get together. It was a very open invitation. It soon seemed there would be about eight or ten people, in the end four turned up – including Bin. And two more later.

It is strange, how you can talk to people easily when you know them from their words already. So we talked over a drink. Then we got into one car and Bin took us to a place he wanted to show us. He planned for the day, you know. Not just the meeting, but what we were going to see and do.

So he took us through this village and then up. And up. On a dirt road. Through the forest. Then he stopped and we walked some more.
We came to this little church. It was built in 1916. During the World War 1. The soldiers built it in memory of their deceased fellow soldiers. It makes you think. There are names on wooden plates inside the church. Hungarian names, Croatian, Slovene, Bosnian, you name it. Austrio-Hungarian at the time. Young men who were pawns on the board of some self-centered old men who thought they had the right to decide about other people’s lives. I don’t know how many died on the Soča front line. A LOT.

Click for a picture

The church is made of stone and wood. And there was a guy who knew a lot about it and couldn’t stop talking. But he was a good guide to listen to.

Click for another one - the amazing interior

After that we descended to the car, had a bite and then took our torches and went on – on foot – to some bunkers. They originate from the time between the two wars when this part of Slovenia was under Italy. So there were these bunkers to protect the border.
It is impressive. We only saw a bit, but it goes under the surface of the ground and it is actually huge. And they had their own little power station. Everything was well built. But they should have never been there in the first place.

Some people want to open this to the public (not just random visitors like ourselves) as a sort of a museum. Others believe it is too painful and should be left as it is or blown up. They were built in order to make the region Italian. History’s a bitch. It can be quite emotional, you know.

We went back to the car, drove to an inn and had a nice meal, talking about all sorts of things. Than our host showed us what he did before he retired (Sixty? Yeah, right! Fifty, maybe. Nope, he’s sixty.) He showed us some really old machinery at the railway station. Fascinating. Since there are really few trains (four or so every day) and because everything works just fine, they still use some of the things that were installed back in 1906. Wow!

By that time, the last two bloggers joined us. A married couple and parents of ten. They only had two with them. They invited us to their home. So we walked again, but not more than ten minutes. Up. Everything is up around here. A nice house, nice tea, the muffins I had made the night before, the cheese and other stuff they offered.

More talk. Some poetry. From a book of one of us. Bin also read a poem. A fantastic one. I really don’t know how he puts that together. My brother didn’t read anything. Me neither. But my brother, too, writes well. Stories. Many like them. So much, that they actually persuaded him to publish them. They’re coming out in a month or so.

After a while we said goodbye and left.
I was the driver. My brother and I got home around eight. Well, he did. I had to continue for 45 minutes to get to my home.
I felt tired but pleased.

I wonder what would I would be doing if I had stayed at home.

No pictures today, sorry. Too many in the past, says Blogger. I'll try to fix that. Be patient. Okay? Thanks.

Imperative

2010-05-03T21:03:00.002+02:00

Tomorrow I'm going tto start with imperative in grade six. You know, the structure (even if it's almost too simple to be called that) for giving orders and instructions. Like they listen to orders. Or instructions. Huh! Okay, most of them do. The loud ones don't and they give the wrong impression of the class.

There is this material in the textbook. Like "be quiet! or "do your homework" and "tidy up your room" and o on. Good. A bit boring, though, isn't it?

So I thought I might use something to just break the monotony. I hate monotony. Children don't like it either. Besides, it doesn't work.

I found this great video, full of imperatives (among other things). I'm sure they will like it, but how much will they understand.

I think I'll just let them listen two or three times (not in a row) and then try to get some feedback. I'm sure they will remember three or four imperatives. Many more, some of them. And the rest will (hopefully) remember what imperative is all about.

So - what do YOU think?

Imperative in music

Highlights of the Week

2010-04-22T19:05:00.004+02:00

We cleaned Slovenia in one day - Saturday 17th - at least that was the title of the whole action. The organizers expected about 200 000 people to take part, 250 000 turned up. Cleaned a lot of mess. I felt proud of all of us doing such a great job and ashamed at the same time: what's the matter with us? Tyres, shoes, beer cans (the winners!), plastic bags, gloves, yoghurt carton - I mean how on earth does somebody decide to just throw these things away by the road? And into the ditch? And in the bushes? Where everything could (and should) be nice and clear!

My head doesn't give me a break. I've had a headache for about a week - not all the time, but it sure comes by every single day and stays for hours. When I complained about it (I was seen taking an Aspirin), my colleagues said I was getting old. We laughed about it, but they weren't joking really.

I almost got a 900€ fine because of bad tyres. Our car is only six months old! I actually have to pay 150€ for something else (thanks, officer!). I'll buy new tyres tomorrow. I wanted to on Tuesday, but it is written in the car's papers that it need tyres that can take 240 kmph! Geez! We only own a Chevrolet Aveo (yes, just like this one, only usually it's dirtier and it has beige interior) and we live in Slovenia! I'm not allowed to drive over 130 kmph anywhere! And if I were, I couldn't! Because this is me and because our car doesn't go that fast

My son asked me to teach him some more English, saying: "Will we study English together, mum? I really don't think I'm learning much at this school of ours." It warmed my heart. This is not that child of mine you know, who studies English and Slovene at the university, but the other one who barely passed many of his English tests in primary school! And failed some of them. I wanted to help him, but he always started preparing for the next test one day before (wouldn't listen to his nagging mum who knew nothing about it anyway) and it was often too late. He doesn't have any problems with it now at age 18 (his grade is usually 4 or 5 out of 5), and he has actually realized it would be good to know more of it. I'm making a plan for him...

It's Earth Day. Two of my colleagues studied geography at the university (one of them majored in history and teaches history now) and today is actually their birthday! How cool is that? At our school you alway get a flower for your birthday (in a pot) and the B-day people usually bring something good to eat. Same today.

I have finally learned to hit the target from 55 metres. The target, I say, not the yellow part of it, although that happens sometimes, too. And the bowstring only hurts my forearm once or twice in two hours. And because of different anchoring (due to the distance), even my nose is safe. Yay!

Due to the national holdays next week (27th April and 1st May) we are having a week off - Spring break, so to say. So this is the afternoon before the last working day for some time. Yay again!

Let that be all for now. It's been a sleepy lazy week - I have no idea why, but I'm trying to improve :) I'm planning to put some things in order next week. Till then!

A Special Day

2010-04-12T00:00:00.002+02:00

Lying in my bed - not mine, really, but you get it - I was trying to comprehend what had just happened. I was just a silly girl, I felt quite serious and yet immature, responsible, but rather childish in a way. Not much different from the sixteen-year-old that I used to be and definitely not much different from that eighteen-year-old I was just two years before.

And yet, they trusted me with this tiny little being that I had just brought to this world. Should I feel guilty? Wasn't it irresponsible to do so? No matter how I should feel, I know I felt blessed. I thought I would be exhausted, but my eyes wouldn't close. They remained wide open almost till morning. Too much to take in.

Her first moments were so special: She just looked around as though she wanted to say: "So that's what it looks like out here..." A hiccup, a sneeze, no crying, no fuss...

A childbirth - an event so common in the existance of the mankind and yet it is so special in every woman's life. A new step in her life, no matter the circumstances.

Wondering if it shoud happen sooner or later, does not really matter. Should you wait till you have a job? And a house to live? Should you hurry and not wait till you're thirty or forty? So that you do not have a teenager when you're over fifty? Is it better to be a young mommy - not too serious - or a bit older - and more mature?

Whatever is better I know one thing: this particular child could be only born at that time, right? Genetics and stuff... And she has always been my sunshine... Wouldn't change her for anything.

As a small child she could always surprise me. As only little children can. I remember one day (she was about to get a brother, so she wasn't three yet), drawing and asking me:

"Mum, why do we have bell buttons?"
"Well, when the baby is inside, they cannot eat, so there is this cord from mum to the baby. That's where the baby gets the food."

She draws and after a moment or two she adds:

"But then chicks don't have belly buttons, do they?"

I never had to help her with her homework... and yet, we sometimes "study together" now that she's at the university... I'm glad to listen to the stuff I should know but have forgotten... How many mums can have that pleasure? And this is just one of the many little things I like about her.

She's all grown up now. She thinks with her own mind - as she always has and as I've always wanted her to. I don't always like her opinions... but that's anoher story. I'm not supposed to, right?

The only problem now is - what should I get her for her birthday? I'll try to cook something nice (but that's not a present yet), but I'm not much of a cook...

I'll try to think of something. However successul or unsuccessful I may be, I do wish you

A VERY HAPPY BIRTHDAY,

dear!

A New Life

2010-04-11T19:18:00.005+02:00

Wonderful news came on Thursday: one of my nieces has just had a daughter!

My mum has 12 grandchildren and now, at the age of 70, she has the first great-grandchild.

My niece is only a year older than my daughter. It lets me know that time is flying, but so does everything else around me. This baby girl is the first in the next generation. As I remember my own childhood, I also remember that of my children and their cousins. We talk about one incident or another with nostalgia. The very clever things one or the other said, how naughty they could be sometimes and how they made us laugh. If there was a confirmation or a first communion, one of the ways of celebrating was also a small and cosy concert - by my brother and his daughters and anyone that was willing to sing along - my sister's daughters or my kids. In summer my kids sometimes had some holidays at my mum's and they pulled out the couch and some five or six kids slept there - not because of lack of space, mind you. Things like that. It happens that one of my children or myself start a sentence: "Remember that time when..." and say something about one of the cousins and the time they spent together.

Well, one of them is a mommy now. Not the oldest one. And the baby is called Julija (pronounce: Yuhliyah). And my not yet 45-years old brother is a grandpa and the granny, his wife, is even younger (41) and there are FIVE new aunts and so on and so on. What am I? I guess I'm a great aunt like from one of Charles Dickens' novels... My daughter couldn't wait for this baby to be born and was and is very very happy to hear about her. The only thing tat annoys her now is... she is still just a cousin... of her mum... well, it's still so nice to know abut that little princess, isn't it?

(Julija on her granddad's blog)

April Fool

2010-04-01T18:05:00.003+02:00

- Did you hear about the Pisa tower? my colleague asked me... It has collapsed!
- No kidding! Collapsed?
- Yes, I heard it on the news this morning
- On the news? Wow!
- But then, of course, they have something like tis every year...
- DANG! It dawned on me... Of course! How din't I get it right away...?!

And he smiled naughtily... Hey, you got me there... and yes, it was on the news... for suckers like me.

But then I decided that was it. I was sure the kids would try something, so it was good to be ready.

It was the fifth graders that made a plan.

We come to the classroom and the tiniest the shyest girl says: Teacher, I don't have my English stuff with me today, I took Social studies!

Me too...Me too - it was echoing from every single one in the class. Aawww, I thought to myself..How cute! They can actually do it with a straight face! Good for them!

Never mind, I said calmly, I will just give each of you a piece of paper, dictate you a short text and mark the dictation. It will only be good to have one grade more, you don't have so many...

Oh, I found my book, said one of them and soon all the stuff was on their desk. Everybody was ready to work.

Except for this one girl. She was sitting her head in hands and her friend told me she was feeling sick.
Well, I told her, if you are not well, go to our counsellor and there you can decide what to do and if you are alright, just remain here. Saying this, I turn to my computer to find the right audio clip as I catch a glimpse of one of the students prompting to this "sick" girl to do something.

In the very next moment the sick girl falls from her chair and lies on the floor.

I turn to the brain of this "scam" saying: I must admit few people can faint at request! Wow!

They laughed and we continued our lesson.

I must say I like them a lot. Mind you, they are only ten!

There's a First for Everything

2010-03-30T15:51:00.004+02:00

Something funny happened to me today.

I teach chilren from 9 to 14 years of age. They go from one classoom to another as their timetable tells them. I don't really look at my timetable a lot. It is full and I know which classes I have and it doesn't really bother me when I have them. Things often change, you see, because of some extra events or some teachers missing due to ilness - either their own or of their kids at home.

Anyway, I took a glimpse at the timetable in the staff room after the second lesson today and noticed something weird: I was supposed to teach not one class, but two, in the third lesson.

I tried to find our pincipal assistant, but she was not available. I tried to think of something, but there wasn't enough time. Of course it was an error and I should have seen it earlier, but I hadn't even looked at the timetable, as I mentioned above.

Little choice did I have. I saw no solution to the problem, so I went upstairs, opened the door to the eighth-graders, opened the next door to our 5-th graders and taught them all.

I gave the older ones a text and a task. A few instructions and I left for a while.
We discussed animals with the younger ones. Some textbook exercises, workbook exercises, oral exercises and a written text to put together. Not a long one: they had to write 4 sentences each to describe an animal and we tried to guess which animal it was.

I went here and there and everyone did everything. My only concern really was that it was against regulations - the children shouldn't be left alone... Well, what can you do.

The lesson went by, I met the principal assistant, she showed me how I could have easily switched classes with another teacher (but nobody saw it then), but everything was fine.

In the end there was another result of this kinda funny situation: For the next lesson I didn't have class - I had a free lesson, which I never do. I relaxed, had a coffee and gathered some energy for the two lessons that followed.

Where?

2010-03-25T18:58:00.003+01:00

Do you ever ask yourself where we are going? If we actually know the way? Why we keep doing the same things every day? And if the new things that we do really improve our lives?

Why we do the dusting when the dust keeps gathering in a thin layer everywhere anyway?
Why try to make the children understand things when they clearly show you day after day they don't really want it?
Why cook when you eat the stuff in like five minutes and all there's left is dirty dishes and a mess in the kitchen? Why am I going to do that again in a few hours and tomorrow?
Why keep playing games when other beat my score and leave me far behind? And if I were them, what difference would it make?

It's like a day, this life of ours. When I go to bed in the evening, will I say it has been a good one? And what will the morning be like?

I'm kind of philosophical today, can't help it.

I don't have a car this week, it's being repaired. It had some ugly scratches and since it's new (November, I think), I had it repaired. On the expence of the insurance.

So I had a nice walk this morning to my colleague's home and then she took me to work. And on my way, I saw a string, some 3 metres long, on the pavement (sidewalk in AmEng :D ) :

When I came closer, I realized it was alive! See?

So I took my phone, took two shots and e-mailed them to myself so I could send them to one of our biology teachers later. And now I'm putting them here.

Where are they going? I'm not going to lose any sleep over this, but it really astonishes me. And how did they agree on the destination? Wow!

Wind Day

2010-03-09T19:52:00.005+01:00

Not my photo - click on it for the source.

Remember, I've told you about the wind we have here. The wind that sometimes stops the traffic. They simply put the sign and you can't go on here, but have to choose a slower option - if you drive a car, that is - if you're a lorry driver, you have to park your vehicle somewhere and wait. For a few hours, usually, in this case it will be at least over night. Poor guys, those lorry drivers - from all sorts of places - Ukraine, Russia, Turkey, Lithuania, you name it. And they have to stop here and wait. It's freezing. They will get some hot drink and maybe food, but still. No life to envy.

Some of them do not wan to wait, but get around that sign somehow. Not a good idea.

Not my photo - click on it for the source.

I know it's his fault, so to say, but still. I wish so much it hadn't happened! The 40€ fine he will have to pay for not obeying the instructions is the least he has to worry about now. Thanks god he's from Croatia and not from some far away country!

Better safe than sorry, said this Polish man. Good thinking!

Not my photo - click on it for the source.

And why "wind day"?

As you have snow days, the kids around here are having a "wind day" tomorrow.

The forecast is that the wind will reach the speed of over 200 kmph tomorrow and it will not be safe to drive around and it may tear off some roofs. The kindergartens and schools will be closed. They actually announced "red alert" on TV and the radio. I have never heard that term in connection with the wind.

BTW - I do not teach HERE, but 6 km away, where the climate is so much different (so much quieter) that the school will be open and the classes will go on as usually. LOL.

Congrats!

2010-03-08T16:26:00.003+01:00

I am not at home, but luckily, my nieces live close to my mum, so they could (and did) bring her some tulips for today. I just called her at the occasion. And my aunt - I called her, too. In the staff room there were these small chocolates in the morning for us, ladies. And a basket with daffodils in the middle of that big table. They really enlightened the room. And later each of us got a primula (in a flower pot!) to take home. Actually, I'm going to take mine into the classroom.

And what is the occasion, you may ask... Women's Day! Congrats to all the women of the planet (I know, I know ... only few read this blog). Best wishes!

View

2010-03-01T08:43:00.002+01:00

Whose view is it anyway?

I tried to write a few kinda humorous posts. I've written two. I guess the second one was not understood that way. As I explained in the first one, I do not mean to offend anyone. And the second one - well of course I don't believe all that. But it REALLY IS the picture people get if they turn their own mind of... Which I don't. Sorry if that wasn't clear from the writing. I must say I expected some objections or... something. I still wonder what the view of us from "over there" is. Never mind.

Take care.

Till next time then.

Americans From Over here, part II

2010-02-27T22:02:00.003+01:00

HIGH SCHOOL
Very early in the child's education it becomes clear who is cool and who isn't. This evolves into more specific personal traits and soon you can realize who is the loser, who is the geek and who is the bitch. And there are the weird ones as well. These precious characteristics are well nurtured untill they reach the peak in high school. The most important role of high school (okay, apart from education) is to traumatize the kids so much that they either give up or are prepared for anything that awaits them in their lives. Maybe not the "traumatizers", but even they, some time later on a shrink's couch find out that they were wrong half their life ago and are suddenly not so okay with that any more. Or, some subjects even live high school all their lives and continue their intrigues in everyday routine and (particularly!) at every reunion. College itself could seriously lack this kind of hierarchy, so fraternities were invented. And sororities, of course. You have to be cool enough to get in, besides you have to bare the humiliation of the initiation and finally you earn the right to do the same to others. Wow!

MARRIAGE
Well, an American can get married in church no matter how many times they have been divorced. Or choose a rabin for the job, whether Jewish or not. AND ... they can pay so much money for the wedding that they could easily buy a house with it. AND they can live with the fact that they have paid so much. And without that house sometimes. And marriage... well marriage is marriage...I've known all sorts of them. But when it comes to

DATING
... that's another story. There are RULES. About asking someone out. Not asking them out. Calling, not calling. Calling ... when? The dates are numbered and certain things can be done on the first date, others on the second, and so on. I'll call you - this was a lie even before he said it. How do you know how important the date is to her? How much time has she spent making herself prettier and how far up has she shaved her legs - that says everything.

And meeting people? Just go to a bar and you'll get somebody's phone number. With the right approach, of course. Maybe a good pick-up line. I got some of those in my mailbox years ago, not sure why: Your last name must be Gillette - you're te best that can happen to a man. Does any woman actually fall for that? Or: Did the sun just come out or did you smile at me? Should any of this indicate that this man is charming, witty and intelligent?

Not to mention blind dating. My boyfriend's best friend is such a nice guy why don't we go on a double date? Hallo? And the best is yet to come: Is he tall? What does he do? Is he handsome? asks the same woman that insisted she was by no means shallow only a few minutes ago.

Besides, who can honestly expect to meet someone for a drink or a cup of coffee or even go for a dinner with that someone - and KNOW? Know if they are meant to be together? He's trying to impress her, she's trying to impress him, they say all sorts of things they wouldn't if they weren't so nervous and some of them are obviously not true. How can you tell someone your job is actually quite different from what you said in the beginning - simply because you thought she would like your made up job better? And so on and so on... Dating is also the most regulkar topic of any converstaion among friends, as well as sex... how long has it been now? Over two months? Jeez, we must get you someone! And blind dating it is again whether you want it or not, because your friends want to help you out of such distress, not to mention frustration.

I guess about 90% of adult life revolves around mating, one way or another.

And Americans don't really break up. Sometimes they get dumped or dump the other one, true, but the tendency nowadays is to start seeing other people. Now figure that out if you can!

And when successful dating leads to a proposal, it should be loving, charming and ORIGINAL. Come on! Countless men have proposed to their ladies, what do you think you can think of to be absolutely new? Organize a dinner and a special dessert in the end on which she can break a tooth if something goes wrong? A plane in the sky with a giant flier? And risk she'll by any chance be in the bathroom when it is in the air to be seen? Or asking her on a big screen at the stadium and have her filmed while she says ... what? She said NO?

Jeez... if she loves you, just ask her... If you do it in a public place anywhere in America, you know, you will probably get a standing ovation!

BABIES
In a marriage, if everything goes well, a baby is brought into this world. The mommy to be is rushed into the hospital and all the relatives are notified that it has started. Half of them come to the hospital. One or two with a camera to film the event, even if they have to shoot some parts that are usually kept private and they would otherwise never get the chance to see. Sometimes the mommy objects to that, successfully... or not.
Or, if it's a false alarm, everybody is sent home and they take it as a drill. For the day when it really happens.

And so we get to the choosing of the name. Hey, we've been there! Let me stop here, then. Till next time.

TO BE CONTINUED

Americans From Over Here

2010-02-27T00:36:00.007+01:00

I'm going to write here what Americans look like to us from far away (but hey - what's "far" in the age of the internet?). I will do so after reading a few times that some people like hearing about our (meaning MY) view or learning of another culture (yeah yeah). I DO NOT MEAN TO INSULT ANYONE, but if you feel offended, please say so and we'll discuss the offensive matter. Besides, all we know about the Americans (most of it, anyway) we know from TV. It's like you made tons of films and series about yourselves and sent it to the rest of the world. If you don't like the picture we have - well, don't complain about the eyes that are looking at it - send the complaint to the artist!

AMERICANS AND CARS
An American family had to have a station wagon. The best ones used to have a broad line of a wood imitation of some kind on the sides. And all the men used to have pick-ups. GAS? They measure it in gallons anyway, so that the number is smaller than it would be here, so... who cares? And if not a station wagon, the car still had to be the size of a smaller boat and the gas stations not too far apart.
Things have changed, of course. The station wagons have evolved into big sedans and the pick-ups into SUV-s. And they must all be very efficient (so that the SUV-s are friendlier to nature, LOL). All sorts of other cars have always co-existed, of course, but strictly divided into those for kids, for girls, for single men and so on. You have to have SOME kind of order so that you know who's who, right?

FOOD
All kinds of it: chicken burger, hamburger, cheeseburger, tunaburger... a boloney sandwich, pizza, spaghetti.... any of these can be a regular dinner. Sure they actually cook as well (I'm sure many of them are much better cooks than I am) but after scrambled eggs or corn flakes for breakfast (or some cereals with plenty of sugar), a sandwich and an apple for lunch, any of the above can be a meal for the evening.

Holidays like Thanksgiving or Christmas - that's a different story altogether. All the recipes passed through generations find their way into freedom to celebrate the death of a giant bird (no, no, I know, it's to express gratitude to be able to survive after that first winter), the stuffings are not stuffings any more, each one can be a dish to be served separately, cranberry sauce is also a must... besides eating too much, this is also a perfect occasion for a mother in law - daughter in law competition.

And what do they do with all that food? Eat it for another month?

SPORT
This brings me to the next point - sport. Football rules. Thanksgiving is the evening when men watch it on TV restlessly, and the women in the house just have to bear it because it's tradition. Football? How can they call THAT football? The ball hardly touches any of the feet in the field. The men are just huge tackling machines, padded in all possible places so that they don't get hurt (but they still do sometimes). Besides, they just stand there, giving each other some funny signs, then one of them runs for a few metres if lucky (okay okay, yards, then) and then - THEY STOP! And they keep stopping ALL THE TIME! They never just play. It's WAIT - ACTION - STOP! Come on!
Or do they watch baseball on Thanksgiving..., no, I don't think so. Baseball... I won't even go there. If I ever grasped the rules, I might even find it interesting.
Anyway, sport is so important that when an American child takes up a sport, it's all about hard work, struggle, beating the opponent, not losing or (God forbid!) quitting. And there is another reason why I couldn't possibly be a part of an American sports team: I can't imagine myself, sitting in the locker room and the coach giving a very inspirational speech - I would probably remember a film or two (or three hundred) and start laughing loudly. But hey, if it works, it works.

NAMES
Americans don't care about names much. They give their children names, but then they just use the initials. There are plenty of T.C.-s, C.J.-s, J.R.-s and so on. It's only a good thing that they have a mddle name. Can you imagine those kids only being called T or C or J.? The parents who don't like the initials so much, just call their son Junior or Major or Soldier. Girls not so much. Some parents even use the names altogether. Weird, huh?

OKAY, this is getting WAY too long. And there is so much more! Hope it amuses you! As most of my followers fall into this "category", I will be glad of your feedback. How wrong am I? And turn the mirror into my direction, if you like. I can laugh at myself.

TO BE CONTINUED

Go Tina!

2010-02-25T19:06:00.008+01:00

I'm not writing much these days, lazy me!
I'm on a winter break and, as I said,
I'm being extremely lazy.

Apart from other things (I have actually started writing some plans for school) I watch Vancouver Olympic games.
And this day has not left me indifferent, I expected the second race of giant slalom nervously.
Our great skier Tina Maze ended on the fifth place yesterday.
She had already won one silver. What will she do today?
Sitting on the couch and pacing nervously from time to time brought back many nmemories when of my childhood when skiing was so much more popular here. In the time of Stenmark Slovenia (Yugoslavia in those days, but they were all from Slovenia anyway) had many good skiers and we even watched TV at school sometimes, yelling our good wishes.

Tina is not only a good athlete, she is also a very nice girl with one of the cutest smiles and we all crossed our fingers for her. If she doesn't win another medal, that's okay, she already has one, she's been "a good girl" already. Half of her hometown is cheering by the slope (well, maybe not half.. but a LOT) and whatever happens, happens.

When it's her turn I don't know whether I should watch or go away. I remember my mum always going to the kitchen when our skiers started. I stay. I watch. She's good. The next few competitors show how good she really was...

YESS!
Another silver for Tina!
(3rd medal for Slovenia)

Congratulations, you deserve it!

(Click on the photo for the source)

First Candle

2010-02-21T10:11:00.005+01:00

It's time for the first candle on my blog's birthday cake. Worth lighting? You be the judge to that.

First I had to choose a name for it. I had a blog in Slovene, called "Out of my head", but that seemed taken already in English. I tried a few possibilities, and quite liked this one. I still think it's quite appropriate.

First I thought I'd write a little something more or less every day. As a writing exercise, sort of, as I'm saying in my profile. But also to somehow process the things that provoke me and make me think. The things that make me happy or worried. Or to tell things I just think would be interestig to others.

Since February 2009 I have also had some lazy periods when I simply didn't write much. Just how it is. But lately, I have been so busy and tired that I can easily say it was the reason why there are so few posts. I have finished some work now and loooking ahead for a one week break (Yaaay!) and hoping to write a little bit more.

Anyway, this is just a regular me, sitting here and typing (or not). If you feel like it, just stir some more thoughts with me.

A nice day and happy blogging to everyone!

Freaking Crazy Olympics!

2010-02-18T15:06:00.012+01:00

ACCIDENT seems to be the main theme of this year's olympics... sad, isn't it?

The luge athlete flew out of the track hitting his head so badly hat he died.

(not my photo, click to get to the original page)

The fact that everything was unprotected - no padding, nothing - couldn't play any role there - or could it? True, the speed was enormous and it might not have helped... but in fact, we will never know.

Anja Pearson, a great athlete everyone even slightly interested in skiing knows hit a lump of snow in the middle of the slope where everythig should be smooth and flew into the air, landed hard and got away with only a bruise.

(not my photo, click to get to the original page)

Glad to hear she is not seriously injured. Was that her own fault as well? You should have watched out, Anja!

A terrific cross country skier Petra Majdic who came to these Olympics with hopes for a medal,went to warm up, fell into a hole on an unprotected part of the track (why protect anything, who cares...), three metres deep, onto rocks, broke her skis, but wanted to start the race anyway.

(not my photo, click to get to the original page)

Want to see it on video? Click here.
Or rather here (+ click "play" of course) since it has been removed from that first link due to a copyright claim by International Olympic Committee.

A turning like this + world's best nordic skiers - WHAT DID THEY EXPECT??!

She did, she won a bronze medal and is everybody here is thinking of her today: she competed with four broken ribs and has punctured lungs now and cannot enter any other events.

(again, not my photos - click)

CONGRATULAIONS, Petra - and get well soon!

I know this post is badly put together - I'm just p....d off with the terrific Vancouver organizers of whom we expected better.

Best of luck, dear athletes and TAKE CARE...

Random Stirrings of My Thoughts

2010-02-14T16:36:00.003+01:00

Can I say "random stirrings"? Who cares, I just have.

I remained speechless yesterday. Literally. I had a very sore throat the day before and yesterday I hardly had any voice. My son found that very amusing. I didn't. My MS said the kids at school would like it a lot. No such luck! My voice is back, at least most of it. The rest will be back before tomorrow morning. That's how teachers are sick, you know - during holidays and weekends! Even my kids did that when they were little!

After being careful not to fry food too often we've had fried steaks (Wienerschnitzl) for the third Sunday in a row... I have a week now to think of something else. Not that we don't like them - it's one of the few foods I know for sure I won't be throwing away afterwards.
And about ten minutes after lunch the dishes were washed, dried and put away. Yay for me!

I don't spend much time on Facebook. I just check it very now and then - can be twice in a day or a few dozen times, doesn't matter, it really doesn't take much of my time. But I found a new use for it! Its functionality can be unbelievable! A twelve-year-old can actually ask you about schoolwork after a day of absence! Can you believe it? Of course I was more than glad to tell him what we did at English that morning!

A group of eighth-graders can be annoying, noisy, lazy and more than typical teenagers and still have great ideas and give some initiative for more work! Paradox? May be, but I'll try it out anyway... They suggested we should put on a school play. Okaaay... let's give it a try! Almost all the roles are assigned, the text is being written, will there actually be a final result? I'll keep you posted on that.

I'm enjoying the break that university studens have. I actually see my daughter much more than usually. Awww... so nice!

My mum had my sister at the age of twenty-two, my sister had her first daughter when she was twenty, I had mine at the age of twenty, today... they have more common sense, I guess! Anyway, my mum is quite a young great-grandma to be. My niece is having a baby in April and my mum is 70. As a part of this wheel of life going round and round, we had lunch with my mum yesterday - she made it for us - my son, my daughter, my daughter's boyfriend and me. My mum invited us in order to meet this young man. Lunch was nice, the talking was nice (without me, more or less), the day was nice...

I have to complete and submit the application for a project - the funding, I mean - will you keep your fingers crossed for it? I learned not so many applicattions were successful as I thought. But ours is good! Right?

For the project we had a visit from Spain. I hadn't googled the town and region well enough before the visit andf it surprised me a little that the ladies were not actually Spanish, but Catalan. Don't go studying at the Barcelona university to learn Spanish! It's not really their language! The teachers? So so nice and open. We spent wonderful time together and we had a farewell party n the night before they left and it was like only old friends were there - the food, the singing, the whole atmosphere....

It's Sunday and after posting this I will still be sitting at this PC of mine (I feel like I should give it a name) and do some work for school. How did that happen? Have no idea. At least I hope I will feel well prepared tomorrow morning.

Make the best of the rest of the weekend!

Culture Day

2010-02-07T16:25:00.005+01:00

It's so nice when the weekend becomes a little longer than usual. I love it. It's only one day, but still. And why is that?

See, it's all about this man:

FRANCE PREŠEREN

Show this picture to any school kid in Slovenia, they will know who this is. Our greatest poet. Has any of your poets given you a day off from work? Does that exist in any other country?

Okay, it's not only about him. It is Culture Day on 8th February. There are celebrations, cultural events, free entrance to galleries and so, and - we don't go to work or school. That's it! A national holiday.

We're a small nation, we sometimes say. And soon someone will correct that statement, saying we are not small, but there are really few of us. The population of Slovenia is about 2 000 000. Quite a few cities have higher populaton than that, right? And we live on a not too large teritory. As you can imagine, our nation and language have been influenced by all our neighbours. The Italians - they occupied a great part of our land for almost thirty years. My dad was in an Italian school at the age of six. When he spoke the only language he could speak, his teacher took his cane and slapped his fingers. He was supposed to be quiet untill he learned some Italian. In other parts and other times Slovenes were supposed to use German in public life.

Well, the man in the picture above had a rich uncle who helped him get his education. His family were hoping for a priest, but he somehow became a lawyer. But he didn't want to practice in German, so he coludn't get a government job.

Apart from that, he was a poet.

He showed the Germans that our language was perfectly suitable for high poetry, just like any other. Not just the peasants' language as they named it. He wrote a lot of poetry, most of it sonnets. I like them. And even if someone says that they prefer another poet, his value was in that (at least as I see it) that he wrote all that without having seen anything like it ever written in our language before.

Among other things, he wrote a toast. Titled "A Toast". Okay, so he liked to drink. But this poem was a real poem, not just some drinking verses.

I'll just ut the eighth verse here, the one that we proclaimed our antheme:


Živé naj vsi naródi,	God's blessing on all nations,
ki hrepené dočakat dan,	Who long and work for that bright day,
da, koder sonce hodi,	When o'er earth's habitations
prepir iz svéta bo pregnan,	No war, no strife shall hold its sway;
da rojak	Who long to see
prost bo vsak,	That all men free,
ne vrag, le sosed bo mejak!	No more shall foes, but neighbours be.

Like it? I do. And I think it's right that we celebrate the Culture Day. Because culture is, in a way, what has kept this nation through history. And I think it's right that we celebrate it on a day, connected with this man.

The only thing that puzzles me is: why didn't they choose his birthday? Why do we celebrate it on the day he died?

In TOP 10

2010-01-17T18:59:00.011+01:00

Some of you already know of my hobby. It's archery. I like it so much that I pursue it although it takes quite a lot of time and in spite of the injuries it causes.

Injuries? Well, there is tis nasty looking black-purple-yellow-blue spot on my left forearm from the bow string. But I have learned to hold my bow properly, so that should not happen any more in the future. Good.

Then there was this bruise on my left hand, caused by the rest constantly hitting against it. Convinced that I am clumsier than everybody else (I still think that I probably am), I tried to learn to shoot more correctly untill my son and my Main Squeeze figured out it was actually a left-hand rest, put together in a way that enabled you to install it on a right-nad riser. Only that it then bruised your hand. The joint between the thumb and the hand which had constantly been beaten before is almost healed now. Good.

And then there is the most inconvenient injury of all - my nose. Yep, NOSE.

I must be doing something wrong and hte string scratches my nose so badly that it begins to bleed. Almost at the tip, slightly to the right. Doesn't look nice. And once I must have pulled the string and let it hit the nose almost directly and then there was this bleeding little spot in the middle of the right side of my nose. When it healed, it was sitting there waiting to meet the bowstring so it could bleed again. And again.

Anyway, I still decided to go to a competition. It counts for the Slovenian Cup and there you can also qualify for the national championship.

Some people say you should definitely go to competitions. I knew I was not good, but I thought it would be interestiong. Fun. So I went.

And if you're in good company - my Main Squeeze, my daughter, her boyfriend (also competing), my niece, ma MS's niece, others from our club - what more could you possibly ask for?

Want to see some photos? Here:

A woman getting ready to shoot. Yep, me:

And shooting:

The competitors checking their hits and writing the scores while the referees are monitoring and helping if necessary:

And... Oh dear!

My finger is on the OUTSIDE of my nose, pleeease! My poor nose! Protected with a strip of adhesive bandage, but still! My daughter jumped at the opportunity to take a photo of me while touching my nose.

I needed to score 370 (what? points? rings? rounds? just 370? help me with vocabulary, please) out of 600 to qualify for the national championship. I didn't believe I would and I didn't. That was not the point. I wanted to see what such a match looked like from the competitor's point of view. And I liked it.

I won't put any photos here that I do not have the permission to - let me just tell you that my daughter's boyfriend was much better. He scored 453! I think that is very good! Well done!

True, we were both on 10th place in our category, only he left 10 competitors behind and I left none. Well, next time, maybe.

And there are other competitions. I can still qualify next week or on 13th February. Next week is too soon, but IF I feel I'm good enough in the beginning of February, I just might attend that other one. I'll see. I'm not going to that competition as I went to this one when I was probably the most light-hearted archer on scene. And, as I said - I liked it.

New Year Wish

2010-01-03T10:49:00.005+01:00

I wish you all the best - self understood, isn't it? All the things you wish for, all the little joys that make your moments more pleasant,everything that makes you happy.

But what would I make my special wish this year? Let me see.

Let me show you a picture here. I have already written once - somewhere other than here - that this is my favourite monument. Do you have a fav among monuments? I'm not a monument fan or anything, it's just that this one really pegged it right on thr head!

It was built in memory of an important priest. He was a voice of reason, also teaching people economics and playing the role of a patron to some of them.

You know what such monuments usually say? There is a verse or maybe something from the bible, can be quite poetic sometimes and then people think those deep thoughts trying to find out whether they agree with them or not.

Not this one:

It is located in a town in Slovenia and the message on it is quite simple:

"Let's pray for common sense."

That is my wish for this world - common sense, plenty of it, we need it!

All the other wishes will be closer to their realisation if this one comes true, don't you think? No trading big and truly meaningful issues for the ego of the mighty ones, no selling the show and image to people when they need the right information, no leaving anyone behind just to please the ones in the front rows, no buying weapons where people die of hunger and... you get it, I'm sure. I'll stop here or you'll need a shovel to dig yourselves out of all I say here.

So whenever you hear of people doing something mean convinced they are absolutely right and entitled to do it and you shake your heads in disbelief, that's exactly what I mean - common sense, that's what this world is missing.

Doesn't sound festive enough? Sorry that's me - I love you all, truly, but to be honest, I'm a clumsy person, I suck at celebrating, still wishing the best to each and everyone.

Winter

2009-12-21T18:19:00.009+01:00

Like all things, winter is also relative.

Right now, we are having real winter, with as much cold and snow as can be expected. Or close, since there is no wind today. The toughest winter around here also means strong wind in gusts which makes us feel much much colder than it really is.

This abundance of snow I'm talking about... well. I took a few photos of it - see for yourself:

Look! It's snowing!

And some of the snow is actually on the ground! Wow!

Don't laugh now! I did say everything is relative, didn't I?

I remember different winters, though. You see, I'm not from around here (a friend of mine, an American lady, finds this phrase hilarious) - I'm from over 40 kilometres away! (almost 25 miles)

The thing is, it means that I cannot use my home dialect or people would have a hard time understanding me where I live now. And you should see the ascent between this valley and the basin I come from! From this town, 106 above the sea level to my home town, 314 metres above the sea level I climb this mountain (drive in a car, that is) about 1000 metres above the sea level. And while this valley is still affected by the Adriatic Sea, this influence cannot be felt in that other town.

I remember a metre or two of snow every winter when I was little. And we had sleighs. And then skis. Our ski boots were modern enough for those days, at least for us. They were automatic, you see. If you were wearing those ski boots, tied tightly with laces, with two pairs of warm socks inside (knit by my mum or aunt) and had an ugly fall, you were very likely to end on your back or butt and barefoot. And laughing. Or not, depending how well you could take it when others were laughing at you. Most of us laughed with the rest of them.

We had to stamp all the slope and make our own ski slope. Not a small job for 7 - 10 year-olds. And then we had to come to the top wihout any help each time we wanted to ski down. Slalom? Sometimes, but my favourite was downhill. As long as it wasn't icy. Going too fast could be dangerous. I remember racing down the hill once missing a tree by a few centimetres (okay, two or three inches, maybe).

I don't have to mention we were really really fit those days, do I? Knee injuries? No way. You know how much exercise our knees got? Those ligaments must have been extremely tough and flexible at the same time. I can't remember any injury AT ALL. Not on skis. And very few otherwise.

We went out in the morning (not on a school day, of course) if we could, went back for lunch and out again. It was quite near our house and it was great. I remember waiting and waiting when I had to go until I could wait no more. Absolutely no more. Then I went in, to the bathroom, changed my wet mittens and socks - sometimes I had bleeding blisters on my soles, but it didn't matter - and off I went again.

Snow, cold, great exercise, great company... geez! those were wonderful days!

And now I live in this place whre snow hardly sticks to the ground (if at all). But if I were still living at home, winters would probably make me just as nostalgic.

Winters are not what they used to be.

Burja

2009-12-15T14:34:00.008+01:00

Can you imagine trying to walk when something is pushing you back? Trying to run and it looks like slow motion? Trying to open the door and an invisible force is pushing it against you and slams it right after you move away? Sitting alone in a car that is rocking without any activity of yours? Driving when it tries to change direction every now and then?
This invisible force is the wind. Some road signs can hardly resist and they just bend a little, others don't and bow with respect of the lements right to the ground.
And some bigger participants in traffic around here... well.. they don't just rock a little. They are ready for a total tyre inspection. See?
(Not my photo - it comes from here.)

Yep, the wind did that!
Oh and the title - that is the name of the wind (bu:ryah).
I think it comes from the sea and breaks against the mountain above our valley, hence its force.

P.S.:
I have just been reminded of something similar in June when there is a festival in our town. Two days (or three?). Anyway, only one day was
approved and allowed by higher forces. This was the second day:

Njoki festival

Smoking

2009-12-14T06:46:00.002+01:00

It rains, it snows it... whatever expressions you use for weather, I don't think you say that it smokes. Well, it does around here.

It means there is snow in the air - tiny snowflakes, rather dry and you hardly every see them land, because of the wind that keeps them swirling and make them look like smoke. And even when they do land, it picks them up again.

No pictutre, sorry. I mean, I'm really sorry I didn't take a photo of it. But it's morning, a quarter to seven. And minutes are scarce and precious in the morning. Maybe another time, then.

Weird Day

2009-12-03T20:21:00.005+01:00

My son and I have to leave around 6.20 for us to catch his train. I take him to a train station 6 kilometres away because the ticket is cheaper and it's on my way to work anyway.

-Wake up, it's six! I call my already-dressed-and-showered-but-dozing-under-the-blanket-son.
-Naaaah...

I go to the bathroom, not too worried, he was almost ready after all.

Hey, get ready, it's twenty past six!

He jumps up and runs to the living room and looks straight at the clock
-What are you talking about? Twenty past six, right! It's not nearly that late.

He was right, you know. It was only seventeen minutes past six. There! Although he says now it was only six and eleven minutes.

A little running here and there, going back from the stairs, remembering he had forgotten something and we were almost gone. I left my keys hanging from the door for him to lock up, so I could go ahead and start the car (we were getting late after all) and when I stepped out, the cold bit my nose and fingers and I knew we were in trouble. It's no big deal to clean the windshield, but it is time consuming. It doesn't take a huge amount of time, but in the morning, every minute counts.

Take a wild guess: did I or did I not know where those scrapers for the windshield were?

When my son dig them (there were two) from the trunk (there was some junk over it), take another wild guess: were they good or good for nothing?

After finding out how good they were (not), we just sat in the car and waited for the heating to do its job. Which was soon. But to be honest - soon wasn't soon enough.

Take another wild guess: did we or did we not catch that train?

Of course not. So we discussed plan B on our way and decided I would drive him another three kilometres so that he could wait for two of his classmates and go to school with them - in the car of one of them. Problem solved.

So I left my don't-want-to-leave-my-warm-and-cosy-bed son in -2 °C (28.4 °F) to wait for about fifteen minutes and went for work.

As Iparked in front of the school, I soon realized one thing: He had my keys. So I didn't have the key to the staff room or to my classroom. I had to ask my colleagues to lock and unlock the doors I would usually lock and unlock myself.

But that wasn't all. What do you think - did those keys include the ones to our home? Well, of course they did! And of course my son comes back about two hours after I do!

I wasn't worrried though. I figured my Main Squeeze wouldn't mind to come to their doorkeeper (in the factory where he works) and lend me his keys.

One of these days (but I forgot which day exactly) they were going to have this trade union meeting which can last for hours - with his cell phone off, of course. You guessed it right - that was TODAY.

So I really had no choice. I went shopping. I bought something for lunch, something to snack on right away, some sweets for my colleagues (St. Nicholas in two days, but that's Saturday) and wasted time. I even bought a lottery ticket. I haven't for a while.

But then I ran out of ideas and energy and went home and just sat in the parking lot. When I called my son for the fifth time or so, he was only a few steps from the door.

Quite an unusual start of he afternoon, not a pleasant one. On the other hand, I got some good news about the student exchange next year - so I still feel the day was good.

Is good. It's not over yet.

You have a good day, too!

No shade...

2009-12-01T06:45:00.006+01:00

Rain and dusk almost all day, then fog.... And me - sleepy and yawning... I actually slept more than enough and am still yawning... I've had my morning coffee and am still yawning. The soft sound of raindrops out there is starting to get boring... No, it's been boring for days now (yawn). It reminds me of that verse that I learned in primary school, I'm sure you know it:

No shade, no shine, no butterflies, no bees, no fruits, no flowers, no leaves no birds - November!

Hey, November's over - wake up!
(yawn)

You know what?

2009-11-29T21:03:00.006+01:00

I'll just go to bed and that's that!

I panicked a little the other day because the very easy texts wich are short anyway and can be translated in no time turned out not to be so short or too easy so I started it right away and have almost finished by now. Almost
- because the biomass heating systems have some weird components
- because I googled and googled those tablets that make that fizzy sound when you put them in water and even wrote an e-mail for help from a nati
ve speaker and finally found out it's called (surprise surprise!!!) FIZZY TABLET! There!

Fizzy fizzy! Click for fizzy!

- because even when I sit here to do some work, I might not be doing it. I don't always feel like translating
- because I make bout a zillion typos per page and have to go back and make them right - sometimes they remind me of that poluceman in 'ALLO 'ALLO
- and, for sure, also because I overlooked one of the documents. How could I? Fortunately it's only four and a half pages about some measuring of different things about water - like the velocity, the water flux and temperature.

Otherwise, it's been quite a nice weekend. I must consider myself lucky: the girl who needed some tutoring actually understands a lot, she only needs some "tidying of the attic" to do as I call it. And a thousand exercises so that what she knows really sits in her brain and does not run away any more.

I went shooting last night and a surprising number of arrows ended in yellow! Yaay! Not that I was good, butI was definitely relatively good. But I'm still doing a few things wrong. My forearm does not get blue and purple any more, but my nose definitely needs a bandage for protection now that it has finally healed from what the bow string did to it - repeatedly. I must fix that and learn to do it the right way. You see, a bandage on the nose is not a regular part of archer's equipment and looks kind of silly.

My MS (Main Squeeze, remember?) completed another stage of his archery education and is now an apprentice referee and as such he went to his first competition today. Well done!

Now what? Should I continue translating this water stuff? Or just go to bed. When I look at it, it's not so bad. I might just sit here for another hour, finish it and still go to bed earlier than usually. So why not.

This post - it's messy, I know. And what's wrong with messy?

Have a good time!

Crazy week

2009-11-21T22:59:00.008+01:00

Was it really? Aren't they all kind of crazy these days? The weeks, I mean. People, too, sometimes.

I gave many grades these days, most of them good (am I nice or what?) mainly because most of them "happened" in the sixth grade where things are still somewhat simple and the kids wonderfully motivated. Are these kids different or will they spoil in a year or two? Because I don't see the same in the ninth grade. We have grades from 1 to 5 - 1 meaning "fail" and 5 being the best (excellent). I was almost worried with all those fives in 6A and 6B, but went through the tests carefully again, making sure that I had put everything in them I was supposed to and the kids actually knew all those answers. Yaay!

Can you imagine what the most difficult task was to those eleven-year-olds? Spelling! Yep, English is weird that way. They had to write down a first name and a last name of a person - spelled out by a recorded voice - and it was sooo hard! But since it was only worth two points (out of 64) they could still be very successful without it. And we will revise and repeat and exercise spelling again.

My ninth graders, however, are kind of out of control. Not having anything to hold on except for rules with more or less no consequences when disobeyed (notes to the parents are not considered consequences by these kids, nor is having a serious talk to anyone at school), the class gets very loud and I feel ignored, so I spend plenty of time trying to establish order of some sort with little success. I'm honesty surprised sometimes when I find out that we have actually done something at the lesson.

But how do you speak to someone who cannot listen? Who does not understand he is not being fair to others who do not want to hear his high-pitched noises all the time about this and that, mostly motorcycles and football.

This time I did it. Yay for me!! Even if I say so myself. To be honest, I was hoping for a little bigger success, but still.

On Wednesday there was this football game. Football, because this one is actually played with feet, but you dear Americans out there will understand it better if I say soccer, I guess :) A very important match between Russia and our tiny country Slovenia (population 2 million). Size doesn't matter, LOL! Slovenia won and qualified for the world championship in South Africa next year. Russians are not going.

I don't particularly like football and I hate all the fuss about it and I knew these ninth-graders wouldn't talk about anything else. And yes, their first question was: Did you watch the match? So I gave them two options - either do an exercise on what we are learning at present (IF-clauses type 1), or use the vocabulary I gave them (projected on the white board) to describe the match in past tense. The loudest one was the only one that chose the second option, but he did it. His text was, well.. not excellent, but very good as for him. He even wrote down that our Prime Minister had to clean our football players' football boots. I didn't know that. But he actually promised that if they qualified and was happy to do it.

The Russians, however, didn't take it well. They are demanding a parliamentary investigation on how it could happen, claiming that the game must have been sold. Both presidents watched the match, you know, and cheered for their teams. Medvedyev from

Russia

and our Danilo Türk.

And our politicians also talked about it. After the parliament session on Tuesday, our Prime Minister said, jokingly, that they had decided that it would be 1:0 for Slovenia. After the game he said he was glad that the footballers respected the government’s decision.

If you want to see how euphoric some people feel, maybe you should watch this: I feel Slovenia (Youtube)

The partying, drinking and all that stuff - well, 'll leave that to your imagination. Not too difficult, I guess.

The week… well, I’m still not sure why I felt it was crazy. Maybe it wasn’t. maybe it’s just me.

Busy busy

2009-11-09T18:50:00.005+01:00

You know how easy it is sometmes to say that you haven't had time to do this or that? That you were busy? Either it's true or not?

Well, that's not one of those cases. I have actually been very busy lately. Not too busy to drop a line or two on this blog, but when I have a lot on my mind (a lot of different things or a lot of one and the same thing, doesn't matter), it can easily happen that I have no idea what towrite and I don't want to push it and write nonsense (like this is something different... I know I know).

Our Danes have different plans for next year (but will hopefully still cooperate with us in the following years).Our eighth-graders, however, can't wait when it's their turn for the exchange. That would be in the ninth grade, but as I said... no Denmark next year. And they are such great kids! With so many ideas and great energy! So I made our school's profile on two different portals and wrote a ton of e-mails and did quite some clicking and again and again.... not to mention all the times I checked for new messages ("Stop it, mum, they can't be writing at all times, some people actually have work to do..." dear Poppy!) Got some good and serious replies, only to learn later that the teachers changed their minds, for one reason or another. Sigh. Then I wrote more e-mails just to take these kids somewhere next year (no, I'm not that selfless, I like going, too) and received a reply about half an hour after I had written one of them, saying "Actually, we are kind of looking for a partner school right now..! Yaaay! So at the moment it looks like we're going to the Netherlands next year. Keep your fingers crossed, will you?

I even translated a video. Did you know scientist are writing equations of the movement of the fish? Or jellyfish? Or making new materials from the atom up, planning their quality - like ability to feel, to remember or heal? Materials, yes, not machines or robots. Imagine tearing trousers or a blouse and seeing it whole some time later, or crashing with your car and not needing to have it repaired?

I'm writing some tests these days. Yep, we need grades. The law says so. I don't like tests. And I hate oral grading even more. Can't do anything about it, though. I'll live, I guess.

I'm working on a project dealing with learning difficulties for which I should write some reports and some other material. Haven't yet. Today, maybe.

My 11-year-old students started corresponding with sme kids from New York. They love it, but they've just started. I hope they won't get tired of it (What should I write...). I guess we'll just have to send different things to keep it interesting. Still, it takes some co-ordinating, meeting them, creating accounts, things like that. And it's just corresponding! What if we started a project with some serious work to do!

In our eighth grades we're having crosscurricular lessons this week: Librarianship-English, dealing with dictionaries and translating. So I have to prepare for that, too. And my head is kind of empty, only ready to do a little thinking, just enough to let me go to work tomorrow with some realistic chance to survive without embarassing myself too much. I'll do better than that. I'll make my brain try a little harder. Hopefully.

Among other things, we'll be reading verses by our poet Tone Pavček. There is this book, full of them, each of them in Slovene and English.

I have plenty more to do.I have some tests to grade and some articles to translate into English. And prepare for tomorrow.

So I'll stop whining and get back to work, leaving you with a short verse by Pavček:

You're in this world to watch the sun,
you're in this world to follow the sun,
you're in this world to be the sun
and chase the shadows away.

Wanna rest a little?

2009-10-16T11:39:00.005+02:00

(Playing with Candid Carrie today)

Tired of walking? Want to sit and enjoy this nice day of autumn? Stop a little an sit down and get some fresh air while you're contemplating what's going on in your everyday life. Here's a very nice place for you:

I know, I know, it's a bit far away (in Denmark), but otherwise it's perfect, isn't it?

Okay then, find a better place yourselves, but be sure to stop a little once in a while, living in a hurry isn't nice or healthy! Take care!

Obsessed?

2009-10-14T20:08:00.008+02:00

Okay, Skye, after thinking a lot about it, I hope I can put something together that will actually make sense. Let me see now.

First of all, THANK YOU for giving me this award, saying that my blog is fabulous. I'm not suure I deserve it, but if you say so... well, I'll take your word for it.

The thing is, I have to tell you about five of my obsessions now. It's not difficult to find five. It's more difficult to CHOOSE them. See? One obsessed woman sitting by the computer.

If I number them from one to five, it doesn't really mean that number one rules my life while number six has hardly any affect on me. Noooo, that totally depends. One day this, another day something else.

1. Food. I love eating and I'm aware of it. What do you like? they ask sometimes. Khmm, EVERYTHING... more or less. I'm nuts about potato crisps with sour cream and onions. All kinds of pasta, dumplings.... sour cream on my pizza (weird family, I know), bread can smell like old days and even tripe wih some good sauce... Name it, I love it. Thinking of food alone brings memories back - of what they used to make when I was little. What I used to eat at my grandma's and what my dad was a specialist for. He used to make very good chicken rissotto and could cut the finest cabbage salad - I have never eaten it like that since I ate the last one he prepared.

2. Coffee. Too much of it. And not watery coffee American style (no offence, pleeease, maybe I just watch too much TV). Two coffees before work, another one in the morning and one after lunch - around two or three o'clock. And then I decide to be a good girl and not have another one. But sometimes I do. Not today. But I'm sooooo sleepy right now. And it's not 8.30 yet. Coffee is my poison. Totally. I'll have to cut down and avoid that terrible headache that I get if I don't drink it. And they say you pee your bones with all that caffeine in your blood stream. And then I'll whine in my ols age - about ostheoprosis and stuff. Yep! I'm earning it in these days. I'll drink less of it.

3. Spelling and grammar. You may think otherwise, but hey, it's not my language I'm writing in. But grammar mistakes, spelling errors and bad translations give me the creeps. They make my blood pressure jump high (got an idea right now - maybe it could be a substitute for the third and the fourth cup of coffee?) In Slovenian, for example, we don't say 13 hundred, but always a thousand and three hundred, so our clever translators tend to make the mistake of changing hundreds into thousands. I'm sure they know what 13 hundred means, but still happens. Time after time. And in some cases it's ridiculous. Then prepositions, words from dialects... I can't explain well enough, I'm afraid. But it must be because of my job, but also something in my genes. You see, my aunt is a retired Slovene teacher, so she did this for a living. My dad was an undertaker, but things like that drove him mad, too. And HIS grandfather, well, I was told he marked grammar mistakes in the newspapers he was reading. That, I think, speaks for itself.

4. Geez, I've only done three! Okay, number four: TV. I watch too much of it, as I told you. I can probably name more detectives and forensic specialists than our politicians. I sip my coffee in the morning, half commatose, watching miracolous animals or people helping some of those that were not so lucky. This morning, for instance, Simon got two more volunteers to help him catch a mamba after a really frightened woman called him and they found out it was a mamba indeed, but made of rubber. Not a bad way to fully wake up.

5. I'm obsessed with order. Sometimes. It's like being really keen on having an ear for music. I know a thousand ways of keeping things in order. How to do it? Just ask me. A notebook for this, a notebook for that, a file here, a chart there... good for schoolwork as well as for household economics, I'm sure. They just don't work for me. I'm probably one of the most disorganised people I know. Trying to improve, but... I don't know. Maybe I'll learn how to keep things in order before I die. If it happens soon enough, I might even write a book about it.

The obsessins that were left out? Well, computer, blogging, comments (yes, yes write them, lots of them..:D ), teaching (in more than one way)... things like that. One obsesed woman, I'm tellin you!

Right. Enough about me. Let me choose five fabulous blogs, shall I?

1. Let me think on it for its descriptions of trips and everday events. A kind of joy shines through them which can also be seen in all the photos. Fabulous!

2. Empty Nest Evolution - well, empy nests are our future, but this girl describes it in a way that doesn't make it sound too errible. It's about letting go these days. Fabulous!

3. Is There Anyone Else Up There? - I always enjoy reading this one. I don't always comment, true, but sometimes there is just nothing to be added. Mary Ellen says it all. And adds some pretty pictures to what she says. Fabulous!

4. Stuff From Ellen's Head makes me wonder, laugh and admire. Depends on the day. Fabulous!

5. Candid Carrie with the positive energy coming from her posts and the way she makes other people play together with her and her photos - Fabulous!

Hope ou like my choice, together with my obsessions.

From Denmark

2009-10-11T12:56:00.014+02:00

As promised.

I cannot describe how wonderful it was to take these 14 young people to Denmark where they stayed with host families. The families of their Danish friends, that is.

They need some "icebreaking" time if you know what I mean. Well, they usually do. This time the exchange was organised in a short time, almost in a hurry. The school in Denmark only confirmed the interest on their part in May. We end school year in June. We travelled there in September. See? Not much time. But I have learned now that they were a little confused by what was going on at OUR school. The principal's leaving and a new one taking his place - well, they jut didn't expect we would be doing an exchange on top of everything. Understandable, isn't it?

Anyway, the teachers not having enough time to prepare the students somehow (enhancing writing e-mails and snail mail and so on) we were a bit worried about how they would connect well enough. The students, probably also seeing there was not much time, jumped at the opportunities that modern technology offers them and found the Danish students on Facebook and MSN. And came to me, telling me about thm. About their families, pets, houses, school... I was really glad.

But I only realized how well they felt they knew each other when we got there. When we met and they took us to their hometown from the airport. And they chatted and laughed in the van. Used English more than they are willing to in class. Wow! And when we arrived and met them all, some of them just hugged like friends meeting after a long long time. It usually happens that they get tired after a while, using English all the time which obviously isn't their mothers' tounge. But this time they just wanted to be together and do things together all the time - whether it was on the bus or at workshops - didn't matter. Facebook rulz, I'm tellin you!

Some interesting observations:
Danish kids (the ones at THIS school at least) are much much quieter than ours. In other words: our studens are LOUD.

Same thing, probably: they spend more time talking to students, teaching them just to listen than we do. Then they don't have to hush them down when they want to actually teach them what they have to at different subjects.

They call their teachers and principal and everyone BY NAME. Not last name. No "Miss", "Mrs.", "Mister"... nothing. Sounds quite natural. We, on the other hand are supposed to be addressed as "Mrs. teacher" or "M;r. Teacher" ( sounds ridiculous in English), but we simply go by "teacher". Sounds fine to me and most of us.

They are so connected with nature! Doing things in the nearby woods, calling it classes. And they are, I'm sure. And good ones, too!

As cosy as everything seemed, many of our students told me of divorced families. Quite a few of the hosting students lived with one of their parents, with different combinations of step parents, step or half siblings... Seems it happens everywhere.

The students at this school are mostly quite serious about their schoolwork and homework and so... I bet it has something to do with their parents' paying for their tuition, so that they can go to this particular school, but also the result of the teachers' hard work to make the students understand what they're doing and why.

One teacher can teach several subjects and not always the same ones. Teacher training must be somewhat different from ours, but we didn't go into details. Here you "specialize" in one or two subjects and that's it. You can obtain some more qualificaitions later, but not jump from Maths to Language or Civics or P.E. Seems kind of funny to me, but working just fine. Becaue if it weren't, you see, the parents would complain and change the situation, get the teacher fired or something. As long as the teacher does good work and the children show good results, it's more than fine. Sounds good to me.

Alll in all, we had a wonderful time with our host, the students and their hosts, seeing things, ding things, tasting things....

One day, for instance, we went to "School in nature" where we had to catch some crabs, clean some fish ("You cut off its head like this, see.... cut here and clean this stuff out...") you can imagine the noises the students made while looking at that, screaming, many of them, like little girls, boys not being much better than the girls, the Danes not much better than our kids...

"We are not going to cook the fish, we are going to smoke them..." and you could hear some giggles, probably imagining (like I was) rolling a fish in a paper or without it, lighting it and inhaling that incredible scent. Smoked fish are not something we're used to.

Another thing which is so not Slovenian: treasure hunt, halloween style. Walking miles, getting scared, solving puzzles and doing tasks - like counting graves, looking for problem-causing items in someone's intestines

until they found the toothbrush, glasses and a nail clipper that did not belong there... The treasure was a box of sweets - one for each team. The parents prepared all that. They did a wonderful job and had loads of fun themselves.

"And this is the mountain" my host, the principal, told me about the village to which you had to drive just a little bit up, realizing herself, how funny that must sound to us. This is not it in the picture - just an image of the rather flat Danish landscape. Did you know that they, too, have taken some of the land from the sea, like they did in the Netherlands?

I do not usually publish photos of people without their permission, but I guess I can publish a picture of two of my friends I made in Denmark. They wanted to play all the time, greeted me every morning and at all times we met, only frightening me ones. And that was the younger of the two, exercising his right to be himself:

I'll stop here. Sorry it took me so long to describe our trip a little (our one-week stay, that is), but even now I'm not sure I have told you all I wanted to. But then, that would be too much, wouldn't it?

Skye, I'm still processing what you have written in your last post, trying to put something together. I will. Until then: THANKS!

Driver!

2009-09-29T20:01:00.002+02:00

What do you do when the keys of your car disappear, together with your son who has no driving licence? Not for a day, only an hour or so - an hour of worrying and fear. Not worrying about our only car, but about my only son. If something goes wrong, it can go wrong big time! If the police stop him and fine him, that could be serious money. What's more - he would not be allowed to obtain a driving licence for some time (two years or so). If something goes more wrong than JUST that, consequences could be more serious if not tragic, affecting all of us. Sigh.

But then, what do you do if your darling, good (nerve wrecking!) only son gets that driving licence without even telling you he was working on it? And it takes a lot to get it! A first aid course, traffic safety course and tests and thirty driving lessons and two more (the "official ones - with the jury) to prove you are ready. Not to mention well over thousand Euros.

And how should you feel if you realize EVERYBODY knew what he was doing except you? His girlfriend knew. Okay. My daughter knew as well as her boyfriend. My nieces knew. My sister! My mum! Stupid stupid me! The bright side (if it is really): his dad still doesn't know, lol.

Congratulations, my dear son! Take care and drive safely!

(Next time - impressions from the wonderful wonderful stay in Denmark)

Tomorrow

2009-09-19T18:37:00.001+02:00

Tomorrow morning I'm leaving for Denmark. Yaaay!

My colleague and I are taking 14 of our students there.

I probably won't be posting for a week.

I wish YOU a good time, too!

New Hobby and Side Effects

2009-09-17T20:13:00.031+02:00

Bad photo quality today, sorry :(

What do you appreciate in people? I'm sure many people think of goodness of the heart first, and honesty, diligence and these are very important virtues indeed. But there is another one I really appreciate: good sense of humour. Not just telling jokes, but the humour in ordinary things. But let me get back to it later,

I've acquired a new hobby. My Main Squeeze has been taking part in it for some time now.

My Main Squeeze and his friends bought a few bows and arrows, joined a club and then founded their own. Took the kids to the national championship and brought quite some medals back. Yes, I know, there are 2 000 000 of us and not everyone takes part in archery. It couldn't be done in any country, but it was still an important achievement. More than anything, they became a team and felt like one. Local community support, family support, you name it.

I wasn't so much into it at first. But I did build their website. I still like doing that.

It has been only recently that I joined the actual archery activities, meaning shooting those arrows into the target,

right in the middle of it (I wish! :) , quite a few flying over it and so, but we have a good time up there.

We even took my niece there when she was visiting and she liked it so much we are trying to organize something for her to be able to practice at home and visit more often.

And it went on and on. It came so far that last Sunday, among other people, there were the following people at the practice: my niece, my sister and her husband, my MS, MY SON with HIS GIRLFRIEND and MY DAUGHTER with her BOYFRIEND. I mean, am I blessed or what? Can you say I'm not lucky? How many people can do a sport in such a company?

My son has bought some arrows, me too, now he has switched to a stronger bow, bought some stronger arrows and will give the old ones to his girlfriend. Poppy's "husband" is also making similar plans. In short, everyone loved Sunday afternoon. Everyone, that is, except Poppy. She was fussing all the time like a baby. Geez, Poppy!

But then, I must admit, it wasn't that interesting to somene who doesn't do archery. And the stuff that archery requires, does make a mess at home:

My nieces arrow case with a belt that will be replaced with a black one...

A whole bag with a bow inside (borrowed for now) and arrows (mine mine! :) two more cases for them and some small stuff...

Arrows in the hall...my niece's and my son's...

Some small stuff... and I don't mean the anti-tick spray, it can be important in such an outdoor activity, though...

Some more small sruff... feathers and arrow points...

The fletching tool and glue in the middle of the table and mess around them...

Then you have enough and go to the balcony and what do you find... someone is growing arrows! They are still featherless at this point...

The missing picture here is the one I decided not to take some ten days ago - that of a big purple-blue-yellow-black bruise on my forehand, caused by the bow string. It simply looked too ugly. It's fine now and I have almost learned how to hold the bow properly.

Anyway, my dear Poppy didn't decide to fuss about all this (and I know she could, it WAS terrible). Instead, she put THIS on the fridge:

You want to see it a bit better? Here:

A perfect message from a promising university student of English to her English-teacher-mother!

Need translation? I can translate it for you, but first, let me just tell you this is our way of communication - from time to time - she knows how to write it properly. But isn't it jus... cute! THIS is what I'd call a sense of humour. Wouldn't you?

(Translation: I would appreciate if there weren't arrows all around our house. Thank you.
And other archery things. Please! Thank you. :P ).

Difficult to write!

2009-09-14T20:49:00.010+02:00

It's difficult to write when thoughts run about your head and jump up and own, chasing one another. And what thoughts might that be?

What shall I cook for lunch or dinner or whatever? They always tell me I make too much fuss about it, but in general they always have different ideas from mine that I should consider whether they tell me aboout them or not.
What would you like to eat?
Dinner.
Yes, but what?
Something good. Stop asking, just make something, I don't know why it should matter so much.
Would you eat pasta?
Naaah...
Steaks?
No, not steaks.
Chicken, mashed potatoes....
Yea,h right, meat, potatoes, salad, always the same.
What then?
Dinner.

It could just go on and on. Or I order pizza. Or avoid this in the beginning and not ask t all. Then it's either a lucky guess or long faces. Or I other pizza. So this "cooking thought" rambles in my head all the time.

Another one:
What should I buy? What do we need? Can I stay away from the shops completely for the day?

How about this one:
I wonder what I said that I shouldn't have - I talk too much and don't think as fast as my lips move and let the sounds out. I also wonder what I should have told someone but didn't because I forgot. My memory tricks me on daily basis.

And what about that kid that keeps breaking my nerves every time? I wonder how other teachers deal with him!

When will I have time for shooting again? Yep, I took up a new hobby. Archery is cool, but this bruise the string left on my left hand looks pretty nasty. Should I buy some powder or something?

The computer gives me some more to think about:
-I wonder how I would do my work without you,buddy!
-I hope it will go on working without breaking down for some time now! What was it the last time? The motherboard? No, that was the time before the last. Last time it was power supply unit. When did I last backup my files?
-What rank am I now at tetris?
-Should I write a post on my blog? Naaah.. nothing interesting going on....
-Any mail? Got a few more millions of dollars in Nigeria? Won in the lottery in UK? Yaaay!

And the favourite this week:
Anything new about Denmark? And I must say, nothing new is good here.

Let me explain: Our school is doing an exchange with a Danish school. So a colleague of mine, fourteen students and myself are flying there on Sunday to meet some Danish students and teachers and stay with their families for a week. I accompanied the students there last year as well, REALLY liked the experience, not to mention all the nice people and can't wait to see some of them again.

News could be trouble, though. As long as nothing is new, everytjhing is going smoothly. Cross your fingers for me, will you - may it stay this way till Sunday, without any unpleasant phone calls, no medical problems or forgotten documents, God forbid!

I feel fine. I'm excited. A bit nervous. But as soon as I see our Danes, evrything will be good. I know nothing will go wrong. Right? Right?

(Can't write everything - it still wouldn't make a decent post, anyway - it just goes on and on and on.... but I'm sure you already know that.)

Happy New Year!

2009-09-04T06:03:00.002+02:00

For some of you it's been a few weeks already, (two, three?), others are just finishing the first week of school in this school year like myself. We started on Tuesday, had some real lessons on Wednesday, so this is really the third day when we have them. All good things come to an end, so do the holidays, but that is just another good thing, isn't it.

How should you start the new school year?

Be lazy. Just go through the stuff you learned at school today and do your homework. That will do for all that hard work you will otherwise have to do. If you leave your books and notes in your schoolbags, you'll forget most of it and then you'll have to do some serious studying.

Be naughty, but not too much. Most teachers can deal with a reasonable sense of humour. They can even laugh with you. It's the ill humour they resent. Expressing yourself is fine as long as you let the people around you do the work they have to do.

Have fun. Find the good things about school. Your friends are there (I know many of mine are!) and you can chat with them to your heart's content. Just don't do it during the lessons. Hugging forbidden this year, sorry, says the ministry of health.

Make plans. Plan your next holidays. Make sure you enjoy them. Do the work before that so that you have no "debts" in that field.

Read. Reading is learning. Even if you read magazines. It will be easier to read school stuff if you read anything else. Go now and find that trivia/football/car racing/music magazine you love and enjoy it!

Good luck, lots of common sense and plenty of success - these are my wishes for all you guys and gals out there that go to school - and to your teachers!

You're Crazy!

2009-09-01T14:20:00.002+02:00

It was last Thursday.
Our (then still) headmaster was sitting outside a pub with an elderly man. (We'd never seen him there before.)
"So, you're retiring, I hear" said the man.
"Yes."
They sit and drink and one of my young colleagues drives by, going home from school.
"Just look what you have at this school of yours, how can you retire?"
They sit and another young female teacher drives by.
"You must be crazy, I really don't understand you" the old man goes on and on.
The headmaster doesn't say much, maybe smiles a little.
Finally, another colleague goes by on foot. She's fifty and something, but very elegant. Her thin legs are nicely tanned, she's wearing this cute minnie skirt and a lovely blouse and high heels.
"You know what, I think you're insane!" the man says, ending this conversation after he has clearly made his point.

(Told by te headmaster himself at the dinner thsat night.)

A Fake Conference And a New Era

2009-08-31T15:23:00.006+02:00

What do you need me for on Monday?

Our headmaster kept asking that.

He is retiring now. Today is the last day he is the headmaster. The new principal takes her position from tomorrow on. But she insisted: "I still have tons of questions I need to ask you. I'll make a list." Later on she realized that probably won't do and he just might go home too early, so she decided to have a conference.

Fake conference, I wrote, but it wasn't really. There were some things we needed to talk about and it came really handy to keep our principal at school by one o'clock.

Then he thanked us in a short little speech, we thanked him, there were a few thoughts said and so on. Finished at twenty past one.

He must have felt odd, leaving the staff room, no one trying to stop him.

Not for long. There were some fifty people waiting for him. We knew they were coming and we had to make sure he would be there. His "Why on earth do I have to be at the conference?" became needless and everything became clear.

The clear voices of some eight girls filled the lobby, greeted him and let him know there was something else prepared for him.

There were the representatives of local communities - the smallest units, smaller than the municipality - like from almost every village, some twelve of them. They ASKED us if they could come and thank this man whom they described as an upright, but modest Person with a capital. A Man. Someone who knew what people needed, cared about every young life, worked hard to do things right, but not to build a career, but to contribute. And I must say, they did not say a single word too many.

Evry five years he needed to be re-elected and for that he also needed the support of the staff. It is common that principals, even if there are no other candidates, get some 70, maybe 75 or 80% of votes. The really good ones maybe more. But I don't know any other principal getting 100% time after time. For thirty years. Can you imagine?

Each of the representatives had some thoughts, written on a scroll, they put it in a wooden chest so our principal can read it at home, on the couch in the evening. So they said. Handshakes and some tears.

And there was wine they brought with them. Bottles, chosen from their own production. From their vineyards, and yet, bottled in a manner that would fit any fine restaurant.

More songs, sung by the girls and by everyone present. we have this nice toast, saying "as many drops so many years, may God give us to live in ths world... "

We spent the evening together on Thursday, that was a much bigger event - he invited us all (some seventy of us) for dinner and we prepared some programme and presents. But we were careful to make him laugh rather than cry.

This time it was too emotional. He got the recognition he deserved, coming sponaineously from the local community.

Anyway, as soon as we knew he was going, we also knew it couldn't happen quietly. I'm just sorry I can't put the atmosphere and the emotions into words and write them here. Impossible.

First Date

2009-08-30T19:17:00.002+02:00

Here I was, sitting by my PC as I am right now, writing another e-mail to my online friend. I could hardly wait for each of his replies. I tell you: the guy knows wht do do with words. And I totally loved it. No empty talking, though (writing, I mean), but letters that actually told me something and intrigued me to write something back to express myself which obviously had a similar effect on him. Lovely!

He had invited me for coffee before, but I was reluctant to accept the invitation.

My friends (colleagues that is, but still - good friends!) half jokingly said sometimes that I should go out more: "We'll pick you up sometime, go for a drink and find you a nice decent guy!" "Yeah," I said "but why shoud I, who do not go to bars look for someone who does? Besides, how many such guys do you actually know?"

She had to admit I had a point there. I decided to accept what life brought to me and not rush anything. But then, five years after my divorce, I actually joined a website to meet someone. I didn't feel like I belonged there, but then, I thought, some other people might feel the same.

And there they were: his enchanting letters. And now, after two or three months of corresponding, I decided to go for that cup of coffee.

I came to the bar, looked around, seeing the man who fitted the description and remembered I had seen him before. With mixed feeling I approached the table, we greeted and ordered that coffee.

I don't remember well what we were talking about. Just getting to know each other, I guess, but we knew quite a lot already, from the letters. Which was good.

A few minutes later, there came tis woman, plunging into the room, greeting him loudly, asking him how he wam, adding: "May I join you?" Not waiting for the answer she grabbed a chair and there she was, sitting at our table.

I was wondering what was was going on, but said nothing. My MS, you see, doesn't quarrel. Or hardly. I guessed he wasn't pleased either. Her name was Leila, I told her mine, pleased to meet you (NOT!), she had coffee, too, exchanged a few sentences and left.

"I'm sorry about that, she should have known better, but that's just how she is." he said.

"That's okay," I realized he had nothing to do with that. She was an aquaintance, really, not even a friend. I got to know her a bit better later, and learned her behaviour that day was nothing exceptional.

When the day of the anniversary is approaching, we always say we should go for a cup of coffee to the same cafe. And we always ask the same question: "Do you think Leila will have time?"

But we never really ask her. We didn't today, either. Eight years after that first date.

Cute!

2009-08-24T21:28:00.007+02:00

Look what my dear daughter sent me this morning! How did she know I listened to these guys for years, singing along - No, I can't sing, why? - and just loving them so that they make me feel nostalgic every time I hear them? Except that I must have told her that a couple (hundred) of times? Thanks, dear! Love you!

Now, how do I embed a youtube video? Can't be that hard! Okay, got it!

Some More Pics

2009-08-17T20:04:00.023+02:00

I will not be describing much more, I'll just add some more photos from the window and from our walks and a short text for some missing ones. My MS (Main Squeeze, remember?) had a problem with his ankle and so we couldn't pursue our usual mountaineering (we are so not like that!). But seriously, we would have walked more otherwise.

My walk with my favourite toy...

We wanted to know what "žlinkrofi" look like - the local specialty. It wasn't on the menu, but the chef said, they had some and we could try them. The dough is similar as for noodles or lasagna, the filling is made from dry pears. Yummy!

While we were eating, wearing T-shirts on a nice warm, day the snow was actually quite near. When I tried to catch it with the camera, I felt I could touch it. Look:

That night we also wanted to try the other "žlinkrofi" (no, you don't have to pronounce it), filled with meat and with cracklings on top, not crumbs.

I only tried one of those, I chose this for my dinner:

Not the best photo, but the food was delicious: mushroom soup (with freshest mushrooms, I tell you!) and hard-boiled buckwheat with cracklings.

Another cute wiew from the window:

See? Too small? Here:

And as they went, so did we. Full of impressions. And some plans.

We decided to stop at a spa on our way and go swimming a little. And those are the missing photos. My MS and I were swimming and being bubbled in whirlpools (MS: I told you last night you shouldn't eat those beans :), water was pouring on our heads and shoulders and my MS went on the slide quite a few times. Loved it. Now THOSE would be some pictures. Not taken, sorry.

Country road, take me home...

The Valley

2009-08-16T14:13:00.014+02:00

Not the Vipava Valley this time, where I live, but the Logarska Valley. Here is where we stayed:

Both houses belong to the same family. They rent it out. It's called a tourist farm. We stayed in the upper house. Very nice. Simple and nice.

This was our room:

And yes, there was a TV, too.

Satellite TV. I could have watched it from the bed, but didn't, really. I just tried it once or twice. Out of 500 and something programs I couldn't pick anything interesting that worked. I could have watched Al Jazeera, but I decided to pass. Had no need for TV, really.

I didn't take any photos of the bathroom. Small and nice.

This was a nice spot:

Here we looked through the brochures we had gathered on the way there and read books. Bou only AFTER we had a good look of the view from the balcony:

But the balcony was not interesting and nice only from the inside out. It looks nice from the other side, too:

And there's another one on the other side of the house, just as nice. I didn't take a photo of it, really, only the flower pots:

So we went for a walk.

On our way we saw what I called a monument to goats.

At least that's what it looked like before we came closer. Because the goat standing on that rock was really still. Later it moved a little and even posed and looked into the camera.

Later that day we went for dinner to the place where they had these goats. And we made plans for the following day.

We went to see the waterfall nearby. It's called Rinka. We took our nordic walking sticks and off we went.

This is the waterfall:

Can you see that wooden building? It's called "Eagle's Nest". You can get souvenirs up there or have a drink. And make more photos, of course.

My MS made a huge mistke here by showing how macro works. So my almost favourite toy became my favourite one. And it's not even mine. It's his. he showed me that after we had our drink. This is why I can only show you an empty glass.

Yep, we had a shot of blueberry brandy each. Good. I took some more pioctures of the mountains around us. All sorts od ledges and holes!

And then we saw someting else:

Not a good sign, says the bartender. We didn't hear any bad news later, but then, I guess we wouldn't - without a radio or TV.

Going back:
Going along a nice pathway through the forest (about 60% of Slovenia is forest).

We didn't need this bench for weary travellers, but you must admit it looks nice:

They even found a special one to put on the curve:

These roots fascinated me. It's like nature made a mistake by starting a life of a plant on a rock...

... and tried to make it right by giving it some means of finding the resources to survive.

Let it be enough for today.

Seeya!

I'm Back

2009-08-14T23:33:00.007+02:00

Where shall I start?

What time shall we start? I asked my Main Squeeze (LOL, I like that!) Seven? Nope, it's my vacation time (says my MS), seven is too early. So we decided we would have coffee at eight thirty and leave at nine. Fine.

So we did. And as we were not in a hurry, we also stopped in Ljubljana, our capital. We checked out a bookshop and actually bought two books for my MS's nephews. He also wanted to buy a straw hat, but he didn't like any of those the shop had to offer. Some other time, then.

We passed this square in Ljubljana. Something was going on there, we couldn't see a thing, some work in progress.

Are they building anything? Here? Nooo... Oh wait, there's a "window" in this fence where you can actually see something:

The note says: Have you found anything? Yes, AN URN, from the period of culture of urn grave sites, late iron era, 1100 - 750 BC. So they're excavating? Cool. Ljubljana has quite some history. In Roman times it was called Emona, but there was life and culture going on even before.

My MS had a comment right away: I bet the tape is not from the same time. Okay, maybe not.

The name of the city today is quite romantic. It has the same root as LOVE. And if you change only one letter, it says LJUBLJENA - BELOVED or LOVED. And it says in a brochure that THAT is exactly what the name means. How cool is that?

A few years (not many!) ago, there was this couple of tourists visiting Ljubljana, probably very much in love, who thought that the name was so beautiful (In love, I said!) they decided that if they were to have a daughter, they would name here just that.

And this is little Ljubljana, two years old, visiting "her city" and in the back you can see the mayor, Zoran Jankovič, who invited her. This photo is not mine and I added the link (click the photo). Ljubljana is from Belgium, by the way.

We were on our way, got lost a little (very little), found our way again and were heading towards Logarska Dolina - the valley where we had chosen to stay for two days and a little.

We had two cameras with us, but not ready all the time, I'm afraid. So we managed to take a picture of these guards of the road:

But we missed so much that was going on - their strolling here and there along the road and a car coming from the opposite direction that had to stop and the cows reluctantly let drive past them. So we waited a bit more, took some three pics and then I decided to progress slowly.

What? What do you want here?

Those deep brown eyes would look much better with a smile to go with them... wouldn't they?

We didn't take many photos on the way, but when we got there... we couldn't stop. Can you understand why?

Let it be enough for now. I'll write more tomorrow. And you can bet I'll have pictures to go wih the text.

Away

2009-08-11T11:16:00.004+02:00

My sweetheart and I are weird in a way.

Planning vacations, for instance, is one of the most complicated things for us. So this year we decided to wait for last minute offers. And we did. And we kinda liked an offer for Hurgada, Egypt. Kinda. If I had felt he was thrilled about it, I would have jumped to the phone and made a reservation. No problem. So now I would be somewhere near the Red Sea, getting to know Egypt, its sights and people. But then we waited a bit too long and "last minute" became "lost minute." Okay. Never mind. Egypt isn't going anywhere. But suddenly, I felt he was a bit more sorry than he was thrilled before. But then, he doesn't make scenes, yell, shout or anything like that. Which is one of the best things about him. I cannot stand people yelling at me. I've had enough of that. I find his calm way of dealing with things so sweet. That's probably also why I call him sweetheart in English. What else would you call a boyfriend in midforties?

Anyway, we decided not to stay at home. We're going somewhere, even if only for two or three days. Not too far, but far enough. So here's where we're going:

The house itself is located in a beautiful valley. No sea, but plenty opportunities for walks and seeing what you don't usually see. Eating home grown or home produced food. Avoiding the heat here. No internet and TV or not much of it. Like a rehab for me :) .

Well, we'll see. I'll sure take plenty of pictures to show off when I come back. I haven't been blogging much lately, but then I'll want to tell you all about it.

Seeya!

Words for People

2009-07-26T23:51:00.007+02:00

I have no idea why I thought of this today. Maybe I watch too much TV. But it's really a vocabulary question - and it's a good thing tere are so many native speakers of English out there - as well as a question of respect.

And before I continue, I must point out, and I can't point out this too much - I HAVE RESPECT FOR PEOPLE NO MATTER WHERE THEY COME FROM OR WHAT THEY LOOK LIKE.
It IS a vocabulary question.

Yes, it must be TV. All those autopsies. Ducky and Bones. And Dr. Sam. And Brass or Horatio, each of them with a whole team. Post mortem. Saying: Caucasian, male yadda yadda yadda....

My skin is pale compared to many on this planet, but to be honest, I have to do some googling to find out about Caucasus and the reasons for naming us the way they do. And now I read it's the name for all lighter-skinned Europoids, no matter what exactly the skin tone is. Right. I wouldn't use it in everyday conversation but okay.

Our society here is not as multicultural as in many other parts of the world, I guess. This is changing, but still. It's not like in the US, for example, represented so well in so many series, films and sitcoms.

We have never had racism here, simply because we have never had different races. Nationalism, maybe, to some extent. Years ago, a person of another race with significantly different features would therefore be somewhat exotic more than anything. Not that people would stare or anything. But couldn't go unnoticed either. It's different these days, with all this tourist and business connections.

Here is this picture from an old (1956) Slovenian movie "The Valley of Peace" where an American pilot takes care of two kids who run away from an orphanage. There is a cute scene in it when the little girl actually licks the guy's face, thinking he might be made of chocolate.

So somewhere in the States I would face another challenge, or better said, so many of them. I guess the police and all sorts of clerks must have some special training in order not to use a wrong expression. One that is not "politically correct".

To describe a chocolate-skinned person, I would never use the N-word, no doubt about that. But what about the other expressions - "coloured" sounds ridiculous and offensive as well. And out of date, I hope. What I hear most often these days is "African American". But that doesn't sound very realistic or nice, either. My question therefore is: Does "black" sound mean of insulting? I know it's really dark brown, and sometimes not even very dark, but I'm not white either and I consider myself white. Besides, I've never heard the expression "African European" which would make just as much sense. In some cases, I mean, when we're talking about the Nth generation. And also, I never hear "European American" - and some white people definitely got there later. They do, however sometime explain about their ancestors in this or that part of Europe. (It's TV I'm talking about, mind you).

Of course, then there are the Hispanic people - is that OK? I'm not saying that it is or that it isn't - I'm actually asking. And the people from all corners of Asia and so on and so on. It never ends.

And there is the race of planet Earth. All of us. My opinion is that it makes less and less sense to put people into categories, as we travel, move and mix. Around me, I find Slovenian, Italian, German, French last names, as well as those with origin somewhere in northern and southern Europe and god knows where else, having been around too long for people to remember how they got here. So what's the point?

My question, no matter how much I have just written about it, is quite simple, really:

When we, during an English lesson, describe people and the person we are describing happens to be of another race, what are the most appropriate words to say that?

Boxes

2009-07-19T18:41:00.007+02:00

Tons and tons of clutter. Neatly put in boxes I have to deal with now. Thank god there's no dust on them, but they just keep coming and coming. While I'm trying to put them on the floor neatly without too much space between them, so that I can still breath, they keep falling from the ceiling if not from the sky itself. Just as I think I'm doing such a great job they appear from the basement, too (have no idea how they do it) and push me up and against the ceiling so I have to start from the beginning. Why does my leg hurt? I've been sitting in a strange way, not knowing it. What's that smell? Something in the kitchen, I guess. Oops! Coming! Let me just put these four, no five boxes where they belong. What were you saying? Can't hear you, but I'll be there in a minute - these packages keep bothering me - if I go away now, god knows what will happen! When I go to bed, I can see them, flying and waiting for me to direct them and place them perfectly. Blue and yellow, purple, orange and green and mixed in such a way that there are bound to be colours together that actually don't match! Ugh! And some are of such shapes you must leave some space in between. But I'm good, I'm good, I even get points for it and a higher rank...

No more tetris today! Or this week! Or ever!

Birthdays

2009-07-17T20:53:00.004+02:00

Two years ago yesterday - 16th July 2007. A funny day.

I went to my mum's and also wanted to visit an old friend of mine from high school. We were (still are that is) best friends: talked about all sorts of stuff, partied together, shared a room. She's the best.

Anyway, her oldest child is a boy, he was in the ninth grade, her daughter was in the fifth, I think, when she had another baby in May two years ago. So I wanted to visit this friend's family and its newest member and bought a small present and everything.

So we sat, we talked, we laughed, memories were flowing, my kids were there with me so we admired what time did with our children, both proud of the young people that have grown so much. The news, you know - you have to know a little what has been going on. We had some juice, she even offered some cake her mum had made for her. Yummy! In a way it is a relaxed time for a family when there's a new baby. I know, all that new rhytm and all sorts of changes, but with the maternity leave, mum at least doesn't have to worry about her job for a year. This family was building a house, but still.

Anyway, after a pleasant afternoon we took off. We are never quiet in the car. The debate went on and on about this and that and came to birthdays. I don't know why or how. I remember quite man and were not yet on half way when I came to this friend's birthday on the.. wait.. SHE'S FORTY TODAY!!!

I almost started banging my head against the dashboard and my kids were laughing: "We had her birthday cake, mum!"Oh geez, so we did! I usually remember these things - whether I see her or not - I just call her. HOW COULD I????

I tried to call her but couldn't reach her and tried again later, till we could finally speak next morning.

"I know why you're calling," she laughed. There were no words to tell her how stupid I felt. She wasn't offended. She's a true friend.

Why am I writing this today? We went to my mum's yesterday (a spur of a moment) and later visited my friend as well. I found out yesterday that they had just moved, so we went to buy a plant - a nice flower in a pot.

She showed us her house a little, her youngest is soooo cute and again, we could just talk and talk.

Most important:

When I met her, I first wished her a happy birthday and gave her the present - not for birthday, but for their new home.

But I remembered! I did! :D

Clearing up the mess

2009-07-15T23:28:00.003+02:00

I'm not much of a housekeeper. I lack certain skills and above everything, determination, I guess. I WILL tidy and clean this place before the summer break ends, but one thing at a time.

My computer first. :D

The computer is not very old and could work perfectly fine, but with all the things that are installed on it, I can understand it's not easy, poor guy!
So we decided to format the hard drive and install everything (NOT everything!! really) again.

Struggling through the files I feel I've been so diligent writing all sorts of stuff! I've never known how hard working I've been until I have to deal with all this mess!

And yes it was very very clever to just close documents and let Word name it Doc1 or Doc 10 - this way you are bound to know where it belongs once you have to backup everything. Saving the same thing into six or seven different folders was another very smart thing to do. Yaay me! So what I've been doing most of the day today is moving files from one folder to another. Not knowing what some of them they are, I had to open many and rename them into something that makes sense. Then I moved them. Okay, since we are making some changes in the program, class 7 isn't necessarily class 7 - maybe we will be learning the same stuff in class 6 now - or class 8. Whatever.

And how good it feels to find things you were looking for only a month or two ago and couldn't find them: a very good exercise you then had to write again (and no I have one more - yay again!) or a test you could have used with some alteration!

Some documents brought some memories back - like a folder with some pictures and facts of Russia - my son needed those in 8th grade to make a presentation. It took him ages to put it together but he adnitted he actually learned something. He was 13 (18 now).

Much of the mess is the result of having difficulties in finding things in the past - so now I had like 3 files with clipart on health issues (headache, sore throat and stuff) and another four or five on animals - simply because once I had what I needed it was still easier to find the sam thing on the internet next time then to look it up on my own computer. And then, of course, I alsao found odd things like pictures of a formula one driver or mother Theresa - in a spur of a momet I decided we could use them at school and then we never did.

The next thing that brought memories back, were lists. Lists of students I used to teach. They generated pictures in my head of studens sitting in their places and doing what they usually did: some were very quiet, some made a fuss over every little thing, some tried to provoke me as often as they could. Some were just never quiet or serious. Maybe when they were writing a test.

Enough memories now - I'll go back and tidy some more folders - like rooms in a house - it' nice to see them change into a structured database. Like when you clear the chaos by putting things in order, finding a perfectly good desk beneath them. Know the feeling?

I'll switch to the shovelling of the files here and there now. How much more??!? I can't even see the light at the end of it... geez what was I thinking?

Bored

2009-07-11T20:48:00.003+02:00

What is wrong with this picture?
Anything right about it at all?

Like all pictures, this one is also telling a story. It's a story of a creative, talented 18-year-old and his mum. He (not only his mum's fault, but also) is at home while most of his friends are on vacation. Nothing really bad about that. But could be better. It's also a story of a cyclist with no races to go to because his cycling club sucks. Big time! Poker is a past time for only so long, he's also not working today, so... yep - he's bored to death!

So he's trying to fix the sewing machine, has actually used it (although a piece is missing), drilling holes into a piece of wood (have no idea why, hope he does), all in all, he's making a mess in the kitchen. And when he stops, he keeps asking me what he should be doing.... He even asked me earlier today if the library was open. A bad case of boredom, I tell you.

Story of his mum, I said - well, I was the one who should have put away the dinner stuff. I'll do it right away.

Weird Humour?

2009-07-07T18:20:00.005+02:00

I had two children ages ago (in 1988 and 1991). And for that my body had been preparing like forever: why should a girl at thirteen need painful periods and than years of inconvenient leakages in our modern way of life or any other? Why should it be necessary to complain (or better even - bare it quietly) for so many years about stomachaches on the first or second day (or both), passing out from them and then years later about the headaches a day or two before the period? Not to mention feeling extremely irritated by little tiny inconveniencies which would otherwise go by unnoticed, just because your body is getting ready for yeat another leak in a day or two?

It all reminds me of preparing dinner.
First you have to do the shopping, if you have an idea of what you want or not. Not that the rest of the family don't want anything in particular, they just don't know it until you put something else on the table. So, the annoying grocery shopping, the cooking (I so don't like that), listening to the comments of the better chefs around you (yeah, right!), solving the problems that arise now and then (burning things, putting too much salt seasoning something in a weird way), calling the people to the table, arguing about their not coming right away after all that work (am I lazy?) eating it all in like five minutes (okay, let's make it 7) and then (yes, there is a pleasant feeling in your tummy and if the rest are pleased it's even better), you can start cleaning the kitchen almost forever - because it's never too clean to clean it a little bit more. After you wash the dishes and the stove, you see the tiles got a little greasy and there is something on the floor that needs not only sweeping, but also mopping and if you're clumsy enough you can slip on that little piece of boiled potato that you dropped earlier and didn't notice and then - you spot a web in the corner. And all that just because of dinners!!!! Okay, I must admit, after that afterdinner cleaning, I sometimes (always, that is) want a cup of coffee and here we go again - washing - rinsing - drying - putting away. Or I let it wait in the sink so it gets company.

Anyway, what was God thinking when making us? Can you imagine being God? Making a man, he must have thought "Hey, that's too simple, let's add a twist or two" and then he went on: "Let's put a little baby factory in here. Won't it be amusing - this woman creature with her "want to be slim" chip in her head? She'll watch her weight before and after and yet, she'll be like a balloon at a birthday party ! LOL! Should this plant just open and close? Naah, I'll put a code in the body which will start to develop it and do so for ages and make it ready years before it's really needed and won't close for a decade or two after it becomes purposeless. Since these creatures will be walking around on two feet eventually, I must be careful that their little ones don't get hurt falling out. I'd better make this entrance into the world a bit narrower than their heads. They'll find a way. And then this baby plant will be closing like forever, causing flushes, headaches and other weird symptoms, just to make life more interesting.

A playground? Okay, I can add that. But I'll connect the two in a way that people won't like. Will that be fun or what - looking at them, trying to avoid one, but not the other! Huh! Of course, that will give this one additional headaches - either from being successful or for failing miserably. This will be a neverending life story of the mankind. And when she grows old, I'll add a change or two every now and then, always something new that she will have to figure out."

Grrr! I'm pi..d! I went to my gynecologist today and no, I'm not dying, she says (I knew that! I wasn't THAT worried), but yes, I'm getting old. She smiled, she was kidding a little, but not entirely.

I'll go now and finish cleaning the kitchen. I guess t least the dishes are dry now.

My Dear Teenager!

2009-07-03T19:09:00.006+02:00

There have been moments when you got on my nerves, causing serious damage. Or maybe not so serious because my nerves have become tougher (much tougher) than they used to be.

It's not about the times when you did the unexpected. That shocked me, but I could live with it. To be honest, the unexpected makes our lives more interesting. More risky, maybe, but interesting as well. Isn't it just too nice to know that something bad has almost happened - bit DIDN'T?

It isn't about those small things that didn't work out as rthey were supposed to. Really, I wouldn't mind. I can forget about the unimportant and enjoy the beauty of our life together.

It is about letting me down only too often!

Why do I have to call my friends (thank God for my good friends!) to do what you were supposed to? Why do I have to live with someone so terribly unreliable?

I could deal with my other two teenagers quite well, though. Still can, but one of them is no longer that. And the way she is, I must have been doing something right. Where did I go wrong with you???

I know, I know. I should have thought things through much better than I did. Sorry. I should have thought twice (ten times!) if I really wanted you. Sorry sorry.

I should have learned my lesson when the same thing happened with your older brother. What was I thinking?

But I guess I didn't. I did it again. You must go now. No place for you here any more.

Not today maybe, but soon. Okay?

(On top of everything, you're green!)

Watermelons

2009-06-21T22:44:00.002+02:00

This is not a post on the fruit I really really like (although it lacks real taste, somehow), but about the Watermelon award. It says here that it means that the person thinks your blog is a grand read - that your watermelons are a 10!

Thank you, Mary Ellen!

Now what am I supposed to do? Pass it on, of course, to other appreciated blogs. I will, I promise. I'll just sleep on it before I do that.

There is another thing in Mary Ellen's latest post which I really like: the idea of "no obligation blogging". Not that I ever write anything like “I’m sorry I haven’t posted in awhile.” I don't because I really don't think anyone has missed me so much. I also like writing when I really feel like it. And that is the whole idea.

Today's Lunch

2009-06-20T17:13:00.023+02:00

Even for lunch, I sometimes like something sweet. I remember things like this from my childhood - did I love them! Yummy! But then, when I was a little girl, all those yummies didn't stik to my waist. Instead, they got lost somewhere while I was playing and running around, not wanting to be still for long. Oh yeah, that has changed, too. Sitting still doesn't bother me any more. Is there a connection between the phenomena (my waist and the stillness) or what?

So this is what happened:

Two days ago I bought some apricots. I love apricots! But trying them, I was quite disappointed. They were tasteless, more or less. What a shame!

Then I decided they could taste better with some sugar. And they did.

I didn't eat apricots with sugar, of course not. I made something for lunch. I cut them in pieces and put some sugar on them.

Then I peeled and cut some potatoes and boiled them in salty water. I mashed them, added some flour, three eggs and some margarine and mixed everything.

I kned it into dough. I made a lump, see?

I used the rolling pin to roll it.

Then I cut it in pieces...

...and put the sweetened apricots on them.

I kind of played like when I was little. The difference is of course, I was only helping then. But otherwise, it's the same. It is easy, anyway. I shaped everything in something like tennis balls. A little bit smaller, but not much.

I put them into salted boiling water and let them boil for some fifteen minutes. In the meantime I heated some butter and put some bread crumbs in.

Voila! Ready! Apricot dumplings!

It's time consuming, so I always make enough for more than just one meal. I cook some and freeze the rest.
They can be made with different kinds of fruit, really. The most common ones, I guess, are with plums. Those are also very good. Plums are sweet and sour and with that sugar on top, they are just delicious!

I just thought it might be interesting for some of you to see this. Do you eat anything like this? I guess it's a Slavic thing, somehow.

The pics are not as enlargable as usually, I'm afraid. My cellphone is not as good as my daughter's camera.

And when did I become so fond of orange? I love red and warm colours in general, but today I've noticed we have lots and lots of things in orange. How long has this been going on?

P.S.: potato dough (taken from a website, since I never weigh things for it):

One kilo of potatoes
about 300 – 400 grams of flour
3 eggs
80 – 100 grams of butter (margarine)
salt

Boil the potatoes, peel them (not necessarily in this order, but it loses less starch this way), mash them, add the butter, cool just a little, add the eggs, the salt and the flour. Kneed the dough until it’s smooth.

You may add less or more (which is more likely) flour. Some like the dumplings softer, I rather make them more compact – easier to shape and also better to eat if you ask me. Not everyone would agree with me. But you must add enough for the dough to stop being all sticky. And then you need some more flour to work with. How much flour you add also depends on the flour itself, since they are not all the same. But I guess you know that from making other things.

Enjoy!

The View

2009-06-18T22:36:00.018+02:00

Today I wanted a view to take a picture or two. A proper view, not a look from our balcony or something. So I took the camera, waited for my friend and colleague and off we went.

We chose this little stroll - we figured we could manage it now that we've had a few walks, suitable for very little kids as well as for old citizens. Oh well...

The first number is the height of where we wanted to go, the number in the middle is how much we had to ascend - 870 metres. Okay, we can do that.

The path is nice, as long as it is not too steep. But it soon gets much steeper. Much much (much) steeper. And we huff and we puff and our faces get all red. Okay, let's go on anyway.

So now we are 1000 metres above the sea level. Good. Only 690 metres up. A piece of cake!

Where is that view? I can brag I actually saw a deer, but the dear animal didn't want to pose. No photo of it, sorry!
A view? There's a little something, yeah, but not really.

My legs are tired, my whole me is tired, but giving up... nope! I've come this far and I want that view! It's getting better, right?

That rock in the sun looks like a promise. Ten more minutes to get up there, maybe fifteen. And there must be a great view from there.

Now we're talking! The whole valley as on the palm of my hand! Too bad the light is not too good for talking photos. I still took some.

I tried to capture it in a way which would make you understand better what I actually saw because I felt those snapshots just don't work that way. Quality? Well... :( ... but still...

Here:

So we made it - we got up here. Let's go back now - if our legs feel like jelly or not. And on the way home I caught a hint of another thing I hoped to take picture of: the sunset.

I'm going to bed now. I'm kind of tired

Taking a Breath

2009-06-12T19:11:00.027+02:00

Finally! A normal afternoon after a long time!

Being in charge of the final (ninth) grade is no joke! Seriously!
Twenty-four individuals, all different - can't be any other way, right? - very strong minds, hormones pumping, high level energy and some of them sleepwalking by day - (different, I said). When you need ideas (and when you don't), they have a zillion of them. When you want to communicate, you should speak teenagean (a whole different language, full of doohs and eye rolling) or at least master the listening comprehension of it. But from time to time you do want to make them uderstand what you mean - even if in other cases you simply accept that their minds work in a way (many ways, actually), very different from yours.

But with all those sighs and eye rolling, they surprised me when we took that trip last week. Yes, it was a week ago, but a very very busy week ago - with all those school things and my mum's birthday on top of them.

Anyway, here is where we went:

Burano is an island and a town near Venice. The houses are so colourful because of their fishing tradition: the fishermen wanted to see their homes from far away when they were returning from the sea. They wanted to recognize it among the other houses. Nowadays the residents need a permit from the authorities if they want to change the colour of the fasade.

It isn't Pisa, but they do have their own leaning tower:

Actually, this photo isn't good enough to show just how leaning the tower is. They expect it will fall down one day, but not to one side, but rather downwards. It will lose the solid ground under its feet and just collapse into itself.

In the following photo you can see many small souvenir masks, typical for Venice, and some not so small, but real size. What Burano is really famous for is lace. You can see it on the right. Fabulous! Lots and lots of work!

We were soon off to another island: Murano. This is what we wanted to see:

I'm telling you: This man has got some lungs!Blowing the glass into shapes of vases and cups.... wow! He can also make other shapes. Mind you: no corrections possible and he only has a few moments to turn hot hot (about 800°C) glass into these:

From Murano we went to this beautiful and world-wide famous town:

With its typical representatives:

And by this I don't mean the tourists, but guys like this:

You cxan't go to Venice and not go to Rialto, right?

And this is the view from up there:

And the square, of course - Piazza San Marco:

How much do you think advertising costs f you choose to do it this way? Just wondering...

Aren't these T-shirts cute?

I also checked out many narrow streets and saw many interesting and cute things that I wouldn't buy:

What do you think about the clocks?

Anyway, it was time to leave, but let me tell you about the kids first: they actually gathered around the guide and listened to her explanations when I had already given up. Well done! They told us they liked the trip. I've been to the same kind of trip some four or five years ago and all we got were sighs and rolling of the eyes.

They had their final party - a kind of prom - on Wednesday, got their reports today and now they're gone. Well, that's life, too. Time flies.

Old Days Captured

2009-05-31T17:52:00.009+02:00

In a cupboard at my mum's place, there is this box with old photos. There are also some photo albums, but those are not so interesting. I was there when most of those photos were taken. But the pictures in that box - well, that is another story. Most of those photos are black and white. Some are kind of yellowish, they curled and won't stay flat even after a month under some very heavy books.

After having a look at them maybe twice in three or four years, I decided they were far too interesting to be left where they were. So I asked my mum if I could borrow them.

First I scanned them all. The good ones and those of poor quality.
And believe me, there are
PLENTY:

You can only see about half of them here.
Some of them are of me, in many others there are my brother and my sister and our cousins. In many cases we are not one hundred per cent sure who's on it, especially when it's about my sister and me. There are many wedding photographs of my parents, aunts and uncles and also people I don't know or recognize.Some have something written at the back. There are photos of open casket and funerals.
Many photos of babies.

In these images from life many decades ago you can see generations sharing their lives, grannies and my great aunt looking after us. I can see our house being built and our home town very different from what can be found there now, but still familiar to me as I can remember some of those ancient buildings that were pulled down years ago.

What surprised (I guess) my kids most is to see some old people when they were young. I mean, we knew they were young once, but didn't really imagine it. Seeing my dad (my kids hardly remember him anyway) posing with his sunglasses even surprised me - I'm not sure I have ever seen that photo. And my mum in some photos looks like a character from a very old but classy movie.

The next thing I'm going to do is take some of the pictures and arrange them into an album. This will be a part of the birthday present to my mum next week. She will be having this big party at her 70th birthday and around 60 people will be there.

I just hope everything will go according to her wishes so that her birthday party is a success.

We're Under Surveillance!

2009-05-30T11:00:00.005+02:00

It's official now!

This is about the Gossip Queen (see the previous post). She has earned the capitals, believe me. But let me start from the beginning.

It was Tuesday morning. I came out of the building to sit in my car and go to work. But the car was not where I had left it. I found it right away, but... How? My daughter wasn't home and my son doesn't drive. Or does he? He doesn't have a driving license, anyway.

I talked to him when I got home, yelled a little, but he didn't take it seriously. I guess I'll have to be careful with the car keys and get him to pass the driving test as soon as possible.

This morning we came out at the same time as the Queen herself. She immediately tarted asking:

"When did you get your driving license, how old are you now?"

He answered somewhat reluctantly, I did, too and she went on:

"I laughed so much the other night watching you park the car for at least fifteen minutes! I couldn't sleep, it was 1.30 at night, oh did I laugh! I almost peed laughing!"

My son still insists he only moved the car in the parking lot and didn't go anywhere with it. Whatever.

And Her Majesty - I bet she couldn't sleep from the fear something might escape her eyes.

Please, Say It's Not True!

2009-05-29T19:32:00.004+02:00

Pleeease!

It's a story of "another woman".
I've just heard it.

There is this nice family of five: mum, dad and three children. The oldest boy is seventeen like my son. The next is a year younger. The girl is about twelve. They've just built a house. In fact, they're still finishing it and haven't moved there yet. It's a slow process that takes years (four? five?) to give your family a solid home to live, earned with your hard work and yet to be paid for, at least a part of it. Or it takes loads of money to do it quickly. Not very common, though. Anyway, this nice hard-working family are at the end of this journey. Should be moving there soon.

I like talking to her, the mum. She's my age. Nice small talk, we can share some problems and worries. He is a nice guy. Very smart, but not too much.You know those smart guys who know just about everything? Well, he's kind of going in that direction, but just not too far. So he's still nice. And if we need a hand, he offers his. Both of them. So he helped us move a very heavy wardrobe when we were doing some work around here and some other furniture, too. I didn't always ask him - on one occasion he noticed what we were doing and here he was. I was so grateful! Still am. The kids - normal kids. Normal teenagers, I'd say, the oldest two.

Today another neighbour told me what was bothering her: she heard that this nice smart guy, the husband of this nice mum of his kids, this reasonable and kind woman, was having an affair with another woman with whom he was seen together - driving, walking, holding hands. And this neighbour was upset about the fact that he did it - and the other woman also knew he was married, they live a few stairs apart. This neighbour is even more upset about it because she's been there. Yep. (So have I, in a way. But that was really very very different.) She was also angry with the woman who told her "the news". She heard it from someone who pretends not to be a gossip. Well, she is. She's the gossip queen.

This reminds me of a thing a friend of mine did years ago. He came to a cafe and saw their gossip queen there. Not paying any attention to her, he ordered coffee and started whining to the bartender, a good friend of his. He said no less than: "F...! I'm sc....! My wife is pregnant again!" The gossip queen stopped looking at the magazines she was looking at and left the cafe. The bartender got the joke: "You're a bastard you know that?"
Sure enough, the story of another and unplanned baby was out before he came out of that place. The woman made a fool of herself, spreading the news that was absolutely untrue. How this friend's wife took it, I do not know.

Anyway, when it comes to this family I was talking about - I'm still hoping the gossip queen got it wrong. Please!

Point of View

2009-05-25T16:49:00.003+02:00

Standing at that large fridge, I'm trying to decide whether to buy strawberry or apricot yoghurt and after looking at them for a few moments I take both. I've got the bread already. No salami today. Or shall I? I went past the butcher's to the fridge with packed meat and changed my mind and went back for a kilo of minced meat. If I make sauce bolognese it makes no sense to prepare it only for one meal. Oh yes, I'll need onions for that. And back I go. And almost to the butcher's to take something from a shelf near there. And back to the fridge for some cream. And around almost all the shelves just to remember if I need anything else. I'll take some salami anyway - for a nice sandwich instead of cooking later in the evening. I have to squeeze a little between the shelf and the shop-assistant with a huge trolley, loaded with toilet paper. Good! I need some. I'd probably have to go to the shop once more today if it hadn't been for her. Nice that shops are air-conditioned. It feels good looking at things and trying to get all you need (but not more if possible) when you know there's 31°C out there - and humid.

Time perspective drastically changes once you have everything. Once I move towards the cashier, it's annoying to see there are others in the line before me. What is that guy doing with the shopping cart full of washing powder, food and drink? Is he going o buy everything up? And that lady with seven kinds of vegetables? I bet she hasn't weighed them all appropriately... and she'll be running here and there to do it again. But if another cash register opens now, I'm in the best position to be there first. Just a step. Anything? No, nothing happening. Come on, how much time can it take you to count some change and put things in the bag? and this basket on the floor? You shouldn't be in the line unless you've got everything... We move a little, two more people join the line. Oh, I remember now, I need some shower gel... I won't be a minute... Do you mind? Thanks. The next cash register opens and the man behind me is there first. Hey! I was here before you! Never mind. It will be my turn as soon as they put away all the vegetables and the beer and soda..
My turn. Everything in the bag, paid, bye!

Gee, I wouldn't have spent ten minutes looking for things had I known it would take me so long to pay for them! It took me ... what.. three minutes? This must be wrong!

Circle of Life

2009-05-24T10:00:00.008+02:00

You know about those tragic losses when somebody dies and everybody feels it was too early? When it doesn't make any sense? So many more years that this person should be with their beloved ones... Unfinished business, joy and pain that haven't been experienced, a shock to everyone...

Well, this was NOT one of those cases.

She knew. She was eighty-nine. She went through so much! Her mind was sharp. She felt old and tired and yet, I think she was younger than some people at thirty. I think she's the only person I can't remember having any flaws. I loved her. I respected her immensely. I remember how only a few years ago, she and my mum were weeding in my aunt's field after my aunt had a surgery and they had been working for some two or three hours. My mum had enough after one, but she was embarrassed to say so, so she waited for her mother to decide to stop. You know now what I mean?

Now she felt her bones were not what they used to be. Her body was shutting down. She was like a candle flame slowly going out.

"All you do is talk - why aren't you saying any prayers?" she told her five children off when she was lying on her death bed. And so they prayed. Her children - that's what they were as long as she was with them, although the oldest, my mum, was almost seventy years old.

"Will you do so after I'm gone as well? Will you still pray?"
And so they promised.

When she heard the voice of the baby in the hall, she called her. So her granddaughter brought in her baby who immediately wanted to touch her cheek.

"You see," my grandmother said "I have to go now. And you have to stay for a good many years."

"This is not happening," said her son to the others in disbelief. They all knew what was going on and couldn't believe she was so sane. Were they looking at their own future? Will they, too, keep the sanity to the last moment of their life? Will that be a blessing or a curse? Will the closeness of departure terrify them?

She made peace with God and with the fact that her time here was ending.

Funeral. All the family gathered.

Months went by.

Uncle is visiting my aunt.

"I know I shouldn't, " he says with a broad smile "but this is so wonderful! We'll have babies!"

And yes, he was told off for breaking the news to everyone before they said he could but then... so what! His three children, two daughters and a son, those three of my cousins (we're 16 altogether) that actually lived in the same house with our grandmother, are all having babies - one is due in September and two in October.

The oldest of them said: "Granny must be praying up there all the time to send us such a blessing!"

One of my cousins is staying there. Two have moved into their new homes. After the painful emptiness in the house after grandma passed away, there will be new life. New joy. The little great-granddaughter will have company now.

I'm so happy for them all. True, there will be more names to remember (I already need a refreshing course sometimes and mum helps me out), but this is so nice!

It's awesome!

Going Home

2009-05-23T18:12:00.030+02:00

Coming from home.
Few words - to make balance after yesterday's post. And before tomorrow's.
Green. Curves. Sunny. More curves. Greener. Too sunny. Nice.

I'm back.

A ride

2009-05-22T18:13:00.006+02:00

My dear old companion, my teenage car needed a break (actually a brake fix) and was not available yesterday or today. So I asked my colleague if I could join her on her way to school and of course she said yes. She always does. So does everyone else, including me in similar cases.

Our block of flats is a different story. There are some 19 flats here. I don't always know who lives in them. Some people come and go and have been here for months before I notice them or are absent for just as long before I miss them. There's this man who found another life companion - no not a car, another woman, before I noticed the first one left. Married? Divorced? Who knows. I don't care, really.

When I took my kids to school in my car, it was quite common that I took one and the neighbours took theirs and the other neighbours' kids were taken there by heir grandpa or something. From the same car park to the same school, three or four kids and about the same number of cars.
When we moved here some sixteen years ago, it actually took me about two months to meet my neighbours and actually talk to them. It didn't happen until some sunny days lured the kids out and their mums joined them. I must tell you, those two months didn't feel nice. Now I talk to some of them sometimes and it makes me feel more at home. But still: when someone asks me if this and this person lives at this address and I don't know, it feels... well... not nice.

Let me go back to my ride to school. I left home a bit earlier as I was going to walk for about 10 or 15 minutes. My colleague offered to fetch me, but I told her I could use this walk - it was just right to wake me up.

Suddenly, this woman, a mother of two lively kids from two floors above us, stopped her car and offered me a lift.

I knew I would be too early and would have to wait. I wouldn't have my morning walk. But I just couldn't refuse because I found it so nice! And it was. She's much like me, I thought - an ordinary person, not above others. We chatted nicely in those minutes.

I sat on a bench in front of my co-worker's block with a book, but still thinking about it: She definitely made my morning so much nicer!

Busy

2009-05-20T18:58:00.021+02:00

Yes, I was kinda busy the last few days. Firstly, there were such nice days that I, the regular couch/computer desk potato HAD TO go out. So I took a walk.

I walked by the river.

There were fields on the other side of the dirt road. Our town is hidden behind the trees.

In the grass that remained uncut, I found such lovely delicate flowers:

Anywhere near a flower bed this would probably be called weed. Cute though, isn't it?
There were colourful little visitors to these beauties, enjoying their sweet potion:

But actually, I was looking for something and I couldn't find it here, no matter how lovely all this looked. We had the season of continuous snowing here that only ended last week. I tried to take a picture, but...

... no success! I could see tiny little things flying through the air,but no such thing in the picture... too bad!
Yes, of course you're right - this couldn't be real cold snow, but nevertheless it tempted you to switch on the wipers when driving your car. Even in my room or living room, there was often something dancing in front of my eyes. It didn't even make me nervous any more. It could tickle my nose, though. Thank God I have no allergies!

Don't believe me? Look!

It all landed somewhere eventually... What you see here was fine. When you find some of this in your living room is not so good. Well, this is extreme, I must admit. In the living room you only get a sample of it. Nevertheless, in this spring snowing season it is wise to cover your glass or simply pour a drink and drink it right away.

And whose fault is this? These big guys are to blame:

Poplar trees!

I still haven't told you what I was looking for. It was this:

I'm sorry I haven't got a better picture - I had a bad day, I guess, as far as the camera was concerned. Do you know the bush? It's elderberry.

I needed thirty large blossoms. I put it into water for 24 hours, together with three lemons, cut in pieces, then poured all that through a piece of cloth and boiled it with sugar and citric acid. Delicious syrup!

It took me some time to find it, pick it and make the syrup. That's why I was busy, see?

Win a prize: a postcard

2009-05-16T17:13:00.012+02:00

Let's play a game, shall we?

This year I'm the class teacher of a 9th grade.
We still haven't been to this year's final trip which is also their last trip to take while they're at our school.
Something special:
A PLACE YOU HAVE ALL HEARD OF.

I'm not telling you any more right now -
just that you are to guess where we are going.

I will answer any of your questions, but only with YES and NO.
To find out where we are from - see some older (but recent) posts.
The first to guess our destination will receive a postcard from there.

I just might decide to send more than one.
I promise it's guessable! Think!

Phavorite Phriday Photo

2009-05-15T13:29:00.006+02:00

Here I'm playing with Candid Carrie . Hope you like it.

This is definitely one of my favourite photos!
I took it on a very verrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrry cold day during my staying in Lithuania with some very very nice people. They actually had this monitor in front of the house. I thought it was so special, not to say funny that I had to take a picture.

Hope I'll meet those lovely girls again one day!

One Lovely Blog Award

2009-05-10T20:29:00.010+02:00

This was SO hard! :) See the smiley? It wasn't easy, no, but it's a nice duty - to tell some people around here that you like what they're writing.

You are supposed to give this award to up to to fifteen bloggers. I came up with eight.

First, I want to tell those whom I awarded with the "When Life Hands You Lemons Blog Award" that I haven't changed my mind. I still like you guys, just don't want to repeat myself.

Then I tried to listen to Auntie, and yes, Auntie, I love your blog, just don't want to bother you with another award you've just received. Well earned!I have the same "problem" with Comedy Goddess and Phat Mama... I can't give it to that Woman of a Certain Age, can I - she's the one who gave it to me... well...

I looked through the comments I get to my inbox and chose some. I also clicked that "next blog" thing at the top of the page to find some new (as it's supposed to introduce the not so known ones). And there is someone I read all the time and a person very special to me (I hope I can do that?)

Sunny's blog IS lovely. See for yourself. Every post is a story.

Then there is that house, not really solid, as it's Slightly Cracked, but lovely.

Of course, I like my side of the story, but I also like hers. Lovely!

Jocelyn makes a crisis lovely...

The world according to this person also sounds interesting and lovely.

This young girl is all excited about her ability to write and I think she should be, too! I have just found out I cannot let her know. No comments on her blog. No e-mail. I still think her blog is lovely, though. At 6 p.m. I finally found a way... Yaay!

Read the tale for yourself. Lovely, isn't it?

And this girl is the special person I mentioned above. I hope you don't mind. And if you do, just ignore the fact that these words are here.
I'm not giving it to her only because she is my little one (the oldest of two, actually), but because I really like the way she writes. And I've seen more than you can see here - this is not her fist blog.

The rules are simple:

You have to choose up to fifteen bloggers to introduce some new blogs to your readers. If you think they're lovely.

Make a list on your blog.

Notify the awarded writers in the comment under their post.

Enjoy!

Vista

2009-05-08T15:09:00.016+02:00

Vista is an old custom in this part of our country.

What people see, happens on the day when young men are recruited for the army. At least that was in the old days. The whole generation of boys who completed eighteen years of age that year, went to a physical.

After the examination, they travelled through the villages on a cart, decorated with green spruce branches and paper flowers. The cart had been decorated by the same boys - young men if you want - and often by the women of the village. They were usually the ones to make the paper flowers, like these our principal assistant got from the boys.

For this was, you see, the celebration of the village. And what did they celebrate? Another healthy generation of young men. Healthy enough to join the army. Not joining itself, I think
.

Nowadays joining the army is not mandatory. But the boys must still attend an informative meeting to find out about their duties an rights connected to the serving the army.

Actually, I didn't see so many flowers today, but I can't say they didn't put a great deal of work into arranging their carts. Do you agree?

Anyway, after that "lecture" they sit on their carts and take a very "long" way home. On that way they stop in many places. Like at the school they attended only three years ago. Here they are in our parking lot where the school bus stops. Well, this is no school bus:

Then they stood in a row, took their hats off, two of our nowadays students joined them and one of them played the accordion, cups in their hands and they sang. I suppose. I missed that. Probably the anthem.

They had to visit the teachers, too. And the librarian.

I remember years ago when they came into the classroom (a small unimportant thing like a lesson wouldn't bother them in any way), said hello, joked a little, sang a song, maybe played the accordion and left.

Our school would never lock the door to them. They are still our boys. But nevertheless, they re turning an old tradition into something that doesn't look so good and right any more. They come with loud sirens and make unbearable noise inside the school. They carry five and ten-liter plastic canisters of wine (from the vineyards of some of their parents) today they spilled some. They try to take some students with them when they leave - things are simply going too far. Some could hardly walk. It was not noon yet and they left to party for the rest of the day. And, believe me, I have photos I don't want to put up here.

Somehow, I'm afraid they missed the point. Some of them were already drunk at the meeting. At 9. 30.

This is what they got, together with the necessary information:

The first one says:
BORN WITH SLOVENIA. PROUD OF OURSELVES FOR 18 YEARS.

The second one says:
Slovenian army
proud of ourselves

They are lying on the shelf in our living room. Yep, my son was born the same year - even month - as our independent country. Slovenia itself, is much older, of course. But as an independent country it was being born - loudly with guns, shells and tanks while my little tiny boy and I were still in the hospital, listening to all that.

As one of the results, military service is no longer mandatory. There is a great chance actually, that none of those boys, or hardly any, will need any other plates, even slightly resembling these in the picture.

Making the best of my time

2009-05-07T19:23:00.002+02:00

I really haven't had much time these days. Today, for instance, I had an English Teachers' meeting. To learn how to evaluate written compositions in our national exams for the 6-th graders. Not for the first time. And I probably (99% sure) won't be evaluating it this year. Okay...

The second part of the meeting was about things you can use in class. Like... the internet .. I've clicked most of those pages and others. And Google notebook... I didn't know about it before ... thanks! And.... AAaaand.... How to start a blog on Blogger. Yeah...

It's half past seven now and I'm tired. And for WHAT?

She made My Day

2009-05-05T14:22:00.003+02:00

Who did? California Girl did.

She gave me this:

Aawww... I'm touched! Thank you so much! I'll pick a few bloggers later, not right now. In a few days, maybe. In the meantime, I'll just look at his picture every now and then, feeling glad that I got it. :D

Lesson

2009-05-04T17:48:00.005+02:00

They softened my heart today at that "music lesson". No it wasn't really a music lesson, it was an English one, as usually when I'm teaching.

The smartest girl in class who knows everything and has a comment on everything and to whom nobody is wise or clever enough (no one of the grown-ups, that is) and who would always do things differently and .. you know the type by now... said:

"Why can't all lessons be like this?" Wow!

They actually listened and figured out what I was trying to say, actually AGREED with me, geez! Are they the same kids? The ones that don't want to open their workbooks, textbooks or do their homework?

Not all of them write the answers, a few chat and don't know what we're doing, when I want a few answers , some are already protesting... Discussion? It starts fine, then... forget about it! Homework? Am I serious?

Okay, they are the same. Phew! I'm relieved. Aliens didn't abduct them and snatch their bodies, then.

By the end of the year I may use one or two more songs to do something like this. They do listen to good music after all. I have to give them credit for that. And since I have jut found out this kind of work is safe and won't change their personalities entirely, why not?

We don't need no...

2009-05-03T14:24:00.007+02:00

After that wonderful week before this week off PLUS this week off it's finally time to go back to school. And I mean IT'S TIME. I'm getting so lazy...

The kids might (most of them probably do) feel the same way, maybe without that last statement (IT'S TIME).

So tomorrow we'll be preparing for that test on the 12th. How exciting! Yaay! Nooot.... And if they think that "Nooot...", I get that energy, too. I'd better think of something to put things in balance.

So I figured I might do something which might make them think of me as a weird teacher (Naaah, they probably think that already, may it be in one way or another) and play them a song I'm sure they can sing (Yes, I've heard them sing it!):

We don't need no education
We don't need no thought control
No dark sarcasm in the classroom
Teachers leave them kids alone
Hey! Teachers! Leave them kids alone!
All in all it's just another brick in the wall.
All in all you're just another brick in the wall.
We don't need no education
We don't need no thought control
No dark sarcasm in the classroom
Teachers leave them kids alone
Hey! Teachers! Leave them kids alone!
All in all it's just another brick in the wall.
All in all you're just another brick in the wall.

Teaching them the wrong thing? No need for education? Not me! Education is not everything, it is however very important and I believe in developing one's potentials. So we'll listen to this one, too:

When we grew up and went to school
There were certain teachers who would
Hurt the children in any way they could
By pouring their derision upon anything we did
And exposing every weakness
However carefully hidden by the kids
But in the town, it was well known
When they got home at night, their fat and
Psychopathic wives would thrash them
Within inches of their lives.

At 14, 15, some of them, I hope they're mature enough to get it. They love the song and I want them to understand why it is as it is. I think these young people attend a different kind of school and they have no need to reject it. I know - it's not always nice and easy, but neither is life. But it is far from what Roger Waters described in his interview in 1979:

Um. My school life was very much like that. Oh, it was awful, it was really terrible. When I hear people whining on now about bringing back Grammar schools it really makes me quite ill to listen to it. Because I went to a boys Grammar school and although ... I want to make it plain that some of the men who taught (it was a boys school) some of the men who taught there were very nice guys, you know I'm not...it's not meant to be a blanket condemnation of teachers everywhere, but the bad ones can really do people in -- and there were some at my school who were just incredibly bad and treated the children so badly, just putting them down, putting them down, you know, all the time. Never encouraging them to do things, not really trying to interest them in anything, just trying to keep them quiet and still, and crush them into the right shape, so that they would go to university and "do well."

And of course, that is not all we are going to do. They will have a worksheet to solve. To show me what they understand. And we WILL revise for the test.

I'll end this now and do some more googling - I mean, I know what "pink" means (isn't it obvious? :)), but what is "floyd"supposed to be?

OK, found it on this website: PINK FLOYD - taken from the names of two Georgia bluesmen Pink Anderson and Floyd Council - from the early days when the band saw itself as a blues band.

Bonfires

2009-05-01T10:54:00.000+02:00

I spent last night at home, watching TV, ironing, talking to my son, commenting on some posts, the usual.

When I was a child and even when my children were younger, the 30th April was different. Because it is the evening before the first of May. The first of May is the workers' day, you see. A day to celebrate. And still is. More people are kind of bitter today, knowing that workers' rights are not respected, knowing that not everyone can work and not everyone that works gets paid. But still.

The most attractive part of the celebration were probably the bonfires. People thought of them weeks before the event and built smaller or bigger bonfires. They often used this day to get rid of branches and stuff after cleaning their gardens. We, the children enjoyed this soooo much! We weren't left alone at the fire, of course. The adults were always there.

Now here's the problem: from our small town, shaped like a basin, no flat area but the river flowing through it with the road to accompany it, surrounded by hills, I moved to this valley. Very nice. Beautiful.

But on the May Day Eve you can build a bonfire here and very few people will see it. At home I stepped out of the house, turned around, and I could see ten or so, quite far away, too - and I felt festive. No one told us to go to bed early (we didn't go to school on 1st May), even when the fire almost died out, we could still roast potatoes in the hot embers - not that we liked the potatoes so much, the roasting itself was so interesting. I wonder now what we had to talk about the whole evening - but we were kids and I know we didn't run out of topics. Only a few years ago my brother used to build a bonfire and we gathered there and had a good time, talking, singing, looking at our kids playing.

If we didn't go to bed early, it didn't mean we slept terribly long next morning. No, it was the first of May and the brass band woke us up around seven o'clock or so. What kind of Workers' Day would it be without the brass band?

I'm starting to think now that I'll have to go home for this day next year. But then, memories are one ting, time is another. You can't go back and it's just as good - sitting home, remembering things and talking to my son about them. Bye the way, he went to bonfire last night with his friends and my daughter went to a picnic. And my sweetheart was woken by a brass band.

I must be doing something wrong. :D

My kids

2009-04-29T09:45:00.000+02:00

It's been enough now. Enough of this time at home, only my son and me, just my sweetheart coming for coffee (is he here yet? no, but soon), giving me a lot of opportunity for being lazy.

Do you know the difficult kind of talking to a teenager? I know I do, that is why I enjoy so much when I can actually talk to my son, joke about things, even tease him about this and that and he is still nice. Compared to his grumbling version, never guilty of anything and everyone else is stupid, this is just awesome.

Lately he has developed this fascination with DIY jobs. Besides, he found out that some power tools are not that expensive. Mind you, we live in a flat. Not a house. A flat. Fifty-seven square metres, neighbours above us, below us. And my darling son bought a power saw. This one(not my photo):

When you make something from wood, it needs sanding of course. So this little mouse joined the saw (again, not my photo):

But then, you need to put things together, you have to make holes for the screws... you know. He got himself a power drill, too, which can also be used for other things. Good thing he can look for a good deal and not pay an awful lot for all those things.

Here you can see his last acquisition, lying in the middle of the not so welcome side effect - the messy balcony:

And I'm not a whiner - the balcony IS messy, here's only a small picture of it and it isn't the only place - the bathroom has suffered, too as well as the kitchen (sanding and sawing make a lot of dust) and my darling son just won't understand why I'm not thrilled about his enthusiasm.

Okay, I mustn't get all pessimistic now - he did sand the wndow frames which can finally be painted now and smoothened the wall before painting and... yeah, he's a good boy :)

Besides, he cooks, remember? Last night he made a cocomut cake (I do not like coconut), in a shape of heart, with vanilla cream and almonds... The cake vanished together with my son, the kitchen... well, I'm not putting THAT photo on the blog....

Sweet trouble, I'm having...

At least my batteries are all charged now and cleaning will help me wait till my daughter comes from her trip and starts talking. Maybe she won't tell me so much tonight if she's late, maybe most of the talking will take place tomorrow... Can't wait to hear everything.

Vacuum Break

2009-04-27T20:21:00.000+02:00

Do you know what it feels like when some days are so packed with activities not to mention emotions that when they are over it feels like a void in your mind which expects to be doing something again. Like using some great force to suck all liquid or gas from a container, creating vacuum.

I've had some most enjoyable days. Tiring, too, but that didn't really matter. To prove that, my body woke up around half past four without the alarm, probably following my mind which, even in sleep, didn't want to miss anything.

Never mind the countries - there are these two groups of students, living about 1400 kilometres apart. We visited them in September. I accompanied my students, afraid a little- Will they be polite? -They are not always. Will they be homesick? - Even five days could make you homesick. Will they communicate? - I do teach them English and have been for three years, almost four, how well are we doing when it comes to using it? Will they... be OK? They did fine. "Do we really have to leave?" was the question on the last night. Yes, but they're coming to us in a few months.

And they did. On Tuesday the 21st. We met them at the airport, accompanied them on their bus ride to school and the parents were waiting there with a snack, including a cake with the photo of both groups together. A few words, a bite and the kids (14, 15 yrs old) grabbed a ball and went out to play football. Everyone seemed pretty relaxed and we, the grown-ups, liked that.

In the following days we tried not to fill their days with school-like activities. Yes, we spent some time at school, but then they got to meet in their spare time in the afternoon. Two excursions, a lot of talking, some jokes, getting to know each other... The two grown-ups (the headmistress and a mum) met my mum on our afternoon trip and seemed to enjoy that day altogether, finding out that my sister's daughter is half an hour older than that mum's son whose name, bye the way, is the same as my son's. How small is this world?

Saturday came and we decided to conclude these wonderful days with a barbecue somewhere higher - some 1200 metres above the sea level. The parents chose the location and we all loved it. They also did soooooo much of the work, god bless them! From there we walked to the nearby peak and back (an hour or so altogether), after which the kids felt tired - not from the walk, really, but from all those days, packed wih so many nice things. But they listened to their teacher - no, not me, sorry, the other one. They got up, mixed a little on the grass, playing volleyball, singing, whatever they thought of. The weather which was threatning a little bit at the beginning, did us a favour and got better and better.

We were al trying to comprehend what we were experiencing and feeling. And feeling was a great part of it. On Thursday - "trip to mum's place" day - we had dinner at my place and I asked my daughter how she found the two omen who accompanied the students. "I'm so glad they are not uptight," she said. Indeed they aren't. I felt like we had known each other for years. And we could talk about anything. And we all feel that this MUST GO ON.

Yep, I feel lucky again. I told the parents and the students about it. Lucky to be surrounded with such people in this time when we can do this exchange and take our students so far to learn about the world. My contribuition was small. really, just a few trips and some worries, after all the organizing, done by others. Yep, lucky.

After reading what I wrote above, you may wonder: "What' the big deal?"

You should've been there to know and understand. To feel. That positive energy among all these people. Among these teenagers whom we tend to find dificult and you know - teenager-like. Among their parents who hope it doesn't stop here. Among the students' younger siblings who are already asking if they, too, will be able to go when they're in the 8th or 9th grade....

We didn't say goodbye, just "see you", still we didn't want to let them go. Many hugs and good wishes - yes, they're great huggers - and plans for the future.

And now I'm having a break. A week off. Not even school. After such a full week. And I' alone. My son's out, my daughter went to Rome, the afternoon is all mine. It feels like vacuum. But like tiredness, I know this, too comes from something nice. And I have the opportunity to think things over, prepare for next week and it gives me time to feel this LUCKY feeling.

Lucky

2009-04-19T19:46:00.000+02:00

I remember the day before I left home for the first time to spend the whole week in the boarding school.

I was fifteen. Even as a small kid I learned to cry over every bump and bruise. No problem there. Emotions were something completely different. Even when I was not such a small kid. If something made me sad, I got stuck with that thought which was rolling over and over again in my head and almost made it spin. It didn't because I had that outlet - a flow of tears that would pour like rain and wouldn't stop.

I cried and my mum tried to make me feel better. I knew I was going to be homesick. She said it was not forever, I'd be coming home every week which I also knew.

"But I'll never ever be really home again. Like I don't live here any more! Only weekends, some days off and holidays and after four years I'll go some place else, but never really live here the way I have till now."

I was sobbing, but managed to put those words together and sure enough, made my mum cry, too.

The following day I just packed and took the bus to school. No more tears. I spent them the night before and almost drove my mother crazy. There were some in the first, maybe the second week and I wasn't the only one.

I was luckier when my kids grew old enough to go to high school. One attended the school in our town an walked there and back. I take the other one to the train station every morning and he also comes back in the afternoon. It means he can stay at home for two more years or so.

Not that I don't know they're supposed to fly away. Sure I do. My oldest has been at the university for a year and a half now in a city 200 kilometres away. Lucky me, she still comes home every weekend.

And THIS is what makes Sundays different. Ironing clothes so that she can pack them. Talking about it and planning the week. How lucky I am to live in the era when I can just make a step or two to our computer and type her a few words and she types something right back! Or we can use the cell phone to hear each other.

How lucky I am that she is not annoyed by all this. Well, I don't think I'm fussy or bothering all the time. No, not me. And sometimes she writes those few words before I do. So she doesn't mind. So am I lucky or what? Lucky lucky lucky.

- I'm going.
- When will I see you?
- On Thursday. A class is cancelled for Friday.

Yep. LUCKY.

Where?

2009-04-17T21:04:00.000+02:00

This is absolutely annoying, frustrating, almost paralyzing. It's not a tragedy, but it's driving me crazy. It stops me from going out, I missed a wonderful sunny afternoon, it makes my thoughts stuck at one and only point:

Where on earth are my keys?

I remember putting them in the usual place. I remember seeing them hanging where they're supposed to hang, but when I decided to go out they were nowhere to be found. And if I go out without my keys when no one else is at home, I can't enter the building.

I can't help blaming my son for taking them, but he says he didn't. And why would he, he's got the two keys he needs, my bunch of door openers is much too big. I have thought of my daughter - is it possible that she took them by mistake I asked them twice and "No, mum, I have no idea where you put them, I have my own keys, remember?" stopped me from asking her again. I have tidied my room and started to move the furniture around, waiting for that obvious metal sound. The washing machine is washing and I keep checking if anything is banging on the door glass. It has even occurred to me it could be my sweetheart who took them along with his keys, cellphone or whatever. Yeah, right! He never does anything like that!

Just how stupid will I feel once I find out it really is my fault? Like once at school when I "had checked every corner of the staff room" before I started to ask my colleagues (and it happens to them sometimes) if they had mistaken my keys for their own. One of them even gave me a lift to a smaller school where I was supposed to have a lesson. When I got back I found my keys on a chair. And not in the middle of it - no, they were sitting comfortably where the arm would normally be resting. How could they stay there and not fall on the floor? Which I checked, by the way.

So keys my darling, where are you hiding now? Have you found a yet wierder spot to take a break? Should I be checking the fridge and the inside of the shoes? Oh, but shoes would not be your first time, would they? Fridge, then. Nope.

Calling doesn't work. I give up. I'll watch something stupid on TV and pretend I'm thinking of something else. And wait for the washing machine to stop.

Nice

2009-04-16T22:07:00.000+02:00

What do you do when it gets kind of late for lunch, you're hungry and really don't feel like cooking?

If your culinary student son is sitting by the PC, trying to type some notes from a piece of paper, doing it painfully slowly, it is definitely time for a job swap.

"I'll type it for you if you cook something."
"What?"
"Whatever you want. I'm starving. And I don't want to cook."
"Okay. Do we have any meat?"
"Enough meat in the fridge."

I exercised my fingers and finished before my son finished his steaks and roast potatoes. He seasoned the meat differently and made a sauce I've never tried before and the potatoes with parmigiano cheese were just yummy! Some salad would have been nice, but you can't have everything, can you?

It's soooo nice when you can talk to your teenage kids (17 and a half), do things together and really get along with them, even at this old age (over 40, remember? :D ) And sit on the couch in the evening and watch the best film ever about that box of chocolates, called life.

Oh, and no pictures today, sorry . Too hungry when lunch was ready.

Sunny morning

2009-04-12T17:51:00.000+02:00

All photos clickable to enlarge.

Today's sunny morning lured me out to take in some fresh air. It was my son really, that made me put on my trainers and go hiking a little. I said I couldn't - I had to clean the kitchen. He promised he would do it, if only I agreed to go out for at least two hours.

I really am a couch potato, and having been home for almost a week, I thought it actually might do me good.

I chose a nice path through the woods. It had everything a hiker could ask for. Even stairs where it is a little steeper.

It has a nice bench for the more tired moments - or moments of deep thinking.

While sitting there you can look up and what do you see? Don't get dizzy now!

It has... now what is this? It has objects that make you think and wonder...

Oh, I see - I guess it was a wooden tap that didn't work. Too many holes or something. So they left it there for aesthetic reasons and made another one for the thirsty ones.

Yes, this path offers water to drink and water to rest your eye on.

And when you get there, a bridge is already waiting.

And if it's too hot out in the sun, you can have a rest in a cave.

Just kidding. That was only a hole in a stone. See?

I was hiking alone so I didn't talk which was good. But I wasn't all alone. See that busy bee on the right?

Then I put my camera away. So I didn't take a photo of my doctor, whom I met on my way home - I was supposed to be at home till Tuesday - or the kitchen when I got home. My dear son didn't keep his promise and only washed the dishes after I got home. I cleared up the mess in the kitchen after lunch, so it's fine, really.

Hope your day is as nice as mine.

Nostalgic me

2009-04-10T21:18:00.000+02:00

This afternoon was a sweet reminder of spring, together with Easter. Not only is the flat cleaner than it has been in a long time. My daughter is celebrating her 21st birthday with her friends, so she put an extra effort in cleaning. With our powers joined and with some new furniture and paint (not because of her birthday) it really looks neat and it gives me a feeling of something fresh. On top of that, the sunshine was teasing me really kindly and showing off warming my back as I was sweeping the balcony. It made me feel like going for a walk, but I couldn't, of course, still being on a sick leave. Never mind, just seeing it made me happier.

When I was a little girl, I could go for a walk almost any time I wanted. It was nicer if I went together with my brother, though. My sister is five years older than me and my brother two. I had my advocate in my sister, besides we could talk sister talk with her as we grew a bit older, but my brother was good to have around when I wanted to do things: hike, play, climb trees and make a bow and arrows and actually shoot with them. I never felt I was acting like a boy, but maybe sometimes I was. I skinned my knees more than once and learned not to cry over that. No broken bones, though, none of us. My brother was like a little god to me. He taught me not to run to our parents with complaints: When I did something wrong (which might even hurt him), he told me not to tell them. So there was no joy in telling on him when he did something.

I have very few pictures from my childhood. But today I looked for them. I have some sunny ones and the nice sunshine reminded me of them. These two are of me and my sister:

My dad didn't take many pictures, but I guess he liked it when he saw us picking flowers.

I always had short hair as a child. My parents convinced me it was more convenient. Maybe it was, but it was also very (completely) unruly. And when we added glasses to that at the age of six, well...

There is another picture of us two. I can almost feel the love we had for each other. I felt so protected with the older two around!

Over the years many things have happened, many hard words were said, but it's like a house: when the foundation is solid, it gets a crack or two (or twenty), but doesn't really fall down.

My brother? I could hardly find a photo with him on it, I don't live in my home, mind you, most photos are still there and there are not many at all... Well, here's one with him and my mom, before they bought me in a dusty carton box :D

I wonder who kicked those years - they couldn't fly so fast by themselves, could they? From little kids' games to being parents ourselves and now my daughter is only two days away from being 21... I guess this is the way it's supposed to be. But still, I feel like I'll wake up one day and ask the question my grandma used to ask: When did I become so old?

What goes around comes around

2009-04-07T11:11:00.001+02:00

What a cliche!
But it's true, isn't it?

And if you ask me who I am and what I'm like, I will tell you, among other things, that I love talking! I talk too much. Waaay too much. Even as a child, I was rather obedient, not demanding at all, I was kind of slow in motion, no tantrums, nothing! But if I had something to say, you couldn't stop me.

When you grow up, you learn, of course, that it's not always your turn. You have to listen, too. And it feels good to listen, as well. You cannot spread your thoughts and opinions all the time, can you?

And yet, sometimes I almost think aloud. I often find my mouth quicker than my mind. I wish I hadn't said this or that!! And one of my students says sometimes (when I say something because I want what's best or her): "Don't start and spread your life wisdom here, pleeease!" I guess, some other students feel the same, but don't say it. You know how we old people are - always preaching! Yep, I'm over forty!

Yesterday it happened. God must have said: "Will you woman shut up for a moment or what?"

When I woke up, I started to say something - LA LA LA or anything, just to test my vocal cords, because I felt something was more wrong than yesterday. Yesterday, you see, I had a voice of a bear which I lost completely by this morning. And stayed numb. I could only text our principal assistant about my misfortune and ask her to confirm receiving the information. Later on she called, my daughter answered and then they both laughed at me! Not nice! Well, it IS kind of funny, anyway, I admit.

Somehow it happened that we are all at home today, my two children and me. We tend to quarrel when we're all together. No quarreling today... I wonder why?

Progress

2009-04-05T07:41:00.000+02:00

I remember some 22 years ago when I was still studying for my teaching degree, another student lent me her notes. A week or so later I was talking to the librarian and mentioned to her that I had to go and find that girl so I could give them back.
"Don't worry, she still has them on her computer," she said.
"What do you mean?" I actually wanted to know.
"They're printed notes, she has them on her PC."
I did not keep asking, I felt rather stupid, but I really didn't know what that looked like. I took her word for it, though.

Some 13 years ago we had a computing course at our school. I took it, not that believed I would learn. Not having a computer at home, I hadn't really had the chance to use one. We did the basic things and... I loved it! :)

There were other courses, we learned things from Word to Power Point and basic web design... yaay! Still love it! The last two were about online learning and dynamic web page (Moodle and Yoomla) Haven't had the time to do much about my "online classroom", but I sure will...

The first time we had a computer at home was about ten years ago. One and a half giga hard drive... LOL my USB is 16 giga now! And I had internet access over phone line. And that's what I really meant to write about in this post. You see, this was really the first additional cord in our home - from the phone to my desk. You couldn't, of course, talk on the phone and use the internet at the same time. And while a page was loading, I could go to the bathroom, sat back on my chair and still wait a little. If it was heavy with photos, I could make myself a cup of coffee. And sometimes I just changed my mind and cancelled.

Then came the ADSL - together with ISDN which made it quite expensive. Again, we needed some additional cords. OK, never mind.

Then our TV became a problem. Not that I need over 100 channels. I wanted to see four or five, but because of one more satellite dish (of one of our neighbours) we couldn't see any. So we got ourselves cable TV. Another cable.

With all sorts of internet providers I figured out (but it took me some time) that I was paying way too much. So I chose triple play from the same provider I was using for the internet access before. More cords!

Yesterday we took the furniture in the hall apart to replace it with some new one - after painting the ceiling. And if you want to see what PROGRESS looks like, here's the picture:

I decided to cut off the cable TV cable (LOL - like table tennis table), but I'm still not sure about some of the others. The floor and the walls will be nicer, but I guess we will still have some of this spaghetti behind the furniture.

But without it there wouldn't be this post, either. Not for one reason, but two.

At Her Age

2009-03-28T21:37:00.000+01:00

I was making lunch when I realized I had no vinegar for the salad. Ah! So that's why that plastic bottle was sitting empty on the counter last night. Stupid me!

So I did what I hardly ever do and went to my neighbour for half a teacup of vinegar. I rang the doorbell, but no one seemed to hear me. So I grabbed the chance when I met my upstairs neighbour and asked her.

I met her on the ground floor and she lives on the second floor. She could hardl get there. Her veins, she said. It must be the veins. She bought some pills and hopes things will get better soon.

We talked but I had to stop her (how rude of me!) so that I could finish the salad and put lunch on the table. I washed the dishes and went back upstairs. I had told the neighbour before that she should feel free to call me if she needed anything - and not go to town limping and in pain. She would, she said, but forgets where she had my number.

So I wrote my two phone numbers on a piece of paper and took them to her. Be sure to call me! I go to the shop almost every day, anyway....

A lady at 73, living on her own, doesn't let a guest flee away as they come. So we chatted some more. About people about her sweetheart who lives an hour or so away, about her children, about this and that.

And about her veins.
"I must have danced too much on Saturday," she says.

I must have had a surprised look on my face. But she wasn't joking.

"It's so nice to dance with him. I simply can't resist that. My favourite is English waltz.It feels like floating on water. But last Saturday we danced some rock'n'roll. I loved it, but I guess that was too much for my legs."

I couldn't help but smile: "You know, if your legs hurt from dancing, I'm sure it's worth it!"
She absolutely agreed. Smiling.

She's been through enough, still works quite alot at home, has half of a hip replaced with an artificial part and goes out and dances. Seriously - I can only hope to be half of the person she is (not literally, she's skinny) at her age!

Little Villains

2009-03-26T16:27:00.001+01:00

There's this class of twelve-year-olds. When you're with them for ten minutes you may think they're all crazy. The volume! Speaking loudly is not enough, they have to shout. When they drive each other crazy, they shout even more. Then they fight and instead of stopping when I say something, they start explaining the reasons - not in soft voice, I assure you... geeez!

Trying to put things in order you cannot help noticing all the other activities: swinging on chairs or putting legs on the nearest chair, picking noses and ... ugh!... or touching each others notebooks, pencil-cases or anything else just to annoy them, writing notes that fly through air to reach the adressee.

No matter what I say, no matter what I do, they just won't listen.

But if I have a closer look, I realize there are soooo many really really good kids in this class. Even if they are left alone, not bothered directly, called names or anything, I feel they are being bullied in a way by the noise their classmates are making while they are actually willing to study to know something - they find the stuff interesting!

I decided today not to focus on the noisy part.

They did all sorts of things.

"Teacher! His phone is ringing!"
"So what? Not my problem."
"He took my pen!" - not from an innocent boy.
"I don't care!"

They didn't get it.
I answered in soft voice or not at all to any such complaint. We did the exercises I had in mind. While doing them, I was making a list of the good students. I assigned another exercise, but told the quiet ones to gather around two desks. I gave them dominoes to play with. Vocabulary dominoes. They liked them. They found and learned some new words.

What's more important - the rest of the class didn't like that! They argued! They said I wasn't being fair! I ignored them. Surprisingly, most of them did the exercise in the workbook I told them to do. Two of them did it quietly and brought it to me to have it checked.

Good! They're getting the message. A battle won. Another one tomorrow.

Or not. After all, they're kids. And not bad ones. :-)

Where Did They Get YOU?

2009-03-23T20:12:00.000+01:00

I don't remember ever asking mum where babies came from. But I do remember my parents telling me a story of them going to the shop for a
baby.

So they were married and loved each other. They wanted a baby. The lady in that shop showed them some babies. And they saw this cute little girl. They just fell in love with her. So they bought that one and went home.

After sometime they felt it would be nice to have another one. They went to the same baby shop and looked for a boy, as they already had a girl at home. They were shown an adorable little boy. He was a bit different from his sister, though. She had dark hair, while he hardly had any. And what he had, was blond. They liked him so much they didn't think twice, but decided in a moment.

Two years later they thought it would be nicer to have three children than just two. And off they went. They didn't mind if it was a girl or a boy. And then they saw ME! :-) And OF COURSE they couldn't leave me there...

Not only the shop, also the procedure was very special in that shop.
The lady behind the counter listened to what you wanted and opened several dusty carton boxes to show you the babies. And when you found the one you wanted, they went to the other part of the store to look for the suitable belly button. They screwed that into your tummy to hold your butt which would otherwise fall off. And the belly button has been there ever since - I guess they must have chosen the right one and fixed my behind properly (that is also still there).

I also remember my parents and other "old folks" talking about the past. The past beyond my memory. The years when they were young. And to my question "When was that?" or "When did that happen?" they sometimes replied it was before I existed.

Still little, I remembered the lesson about baby shopping and surprisingly believed every word of it. And I had a quick answer: "Of course I existed, you just hadn't bought me yet!"

I must have been three or four when I heard the story and nearly six when everybody else had forgotten all about it (but remembered when I refreshed their memory) and I still believed every detail. My parents never really talked about "those things", but they didn't really want me to believe THAT.

So I learned babies came from mum's tummy. I didn't need more than that at that time.

I had friends with different stories about where they came from. Do you have one, too?

My Cup of Coffee

2009-03-19T18:17:00.000+01:00

I promised Skye the other day that I would tell a little something about my kind of coffee, after I said her kind was not my kind. :) I certainly don't think your coffee is worse, Skye. I hope you know that.

From the beginning:

In the morning the alarm on my cell phone wakes me around five. I still have some time, no rush there, but I often get up right after that to enjoy the quiet of that particular part of the day. I open the cupboard and I swear, I could do it in sleep, I fill this coffee pot (or what would you call it?) and in a minute or so you can see THIS:

A quick visit to the bathroom and a look when I come back:

Wonderful!

In the morning when I drink coffee alone, I take my mug and pour the coffee in it

... add some sugar (sweetener? yuck!) Now what else is missing? I don't drink it black (it would be healthier, though), sooo, yep, some milk!

Ready!

I have another coffee pot, a big sister of the one you've just seen:

I use it when my sweetheart comes by. Then I don't drink it from my mug, but pour it in two cups like this:

But my big coffee pot is not the little one's only relative! Here's the one that waits for me at school:

See the wall behind it? Time for painting, yes. Having a cooker so close is not the best idea, I guess. As safe as all that is (and it is), people have forgotten about it and the result... well, can't be proud about it. The curtains on the other side? Whose idea was that??

The pot is for nine cups, I think. Since I'm early and it's become a routine, it's very easy to make sure that coffee is ready when the rest of them come, so that the smell of coffee welcomes them at the door. One of my colleagues then usually pours it for me - when I'm sitting by the computer, finishing something or just doing something not very important. We chat a little and the morning starts nicely and easily. And coffee sure has something to do with it.

Lesson after lesson leave you no time for coffee. Besides, a cup of tea or cocoa is better sometimes so that caffeine in your blood doesn't reach a dangerous level. But, as I said, NO TIME. For the short, five minute breaks, we have this beast:

Does the trick, but again, not my cup of coffee...

The one shown above is. Strong, with a nice smell... not coffee you could sip all the time, though. One, two, maybe three cups a day and that's enough. But those cups... mmmm!... Sit down and enjoy!

Honest Mistake

2009-03-18T19:20:00.001+01:00

Today we had what we call a "sports day" meaning that some students went skiing, some swimming and the rest went hiking. And so we went.

We chose a not too steep road through some fields and villages. We walked and chatted, enjoying what the nature had to offer. No classes today - most students liked that and the teachers didn't mind, either. I took my camera with me, still determined to learn how to use it properly. Ooops, not MY camera, it's actually my daughter's. Anyway, I liked some flowers by the road,

but I didn't pick them. I believe they would lose all their cuteness and beauty in a vase indoors. I'll just have to go out again to see them. Right?

Anyway, the day was gorgeous, we couldn't ask for better weather to do this. I felt great just looking at the river and the trees and all those flowers.

Well, there was one little thing. Some crampy cramps in my stomach that come by once a month... lucky me! That's today! Wasn't too bad, but tomorrow would be better and certainly less inconvenient.

We came back to school, I sat on the chair and put the camera on the desk. I have this cute little backpack, only big enough for my wallet, a glass of water and a camera. And some"extra equipment" (the one used on monthly basis) in a small pocket inside with a zip. Clumsy me, and by no means for the first time, I somehow turned it around when all that was unzipped and quite a few things fell on the floor.

When I was picking this

my colleague started laughing, but NOT AT ME, actually she had a story of her own:

"You know how they offer you sweets to taste at the mall? Well, one day I passed a stall like that, I didn't even look, they gave me something I thanked them and went on shopping. I put it in my purse and forgot all about it.

Two days later I took my students somewhere (I think it was another school) and there I was, standing with another teacher, not too hungry, but I felt like eating a little something, so I took it out saying "I wonder what that chocolate is like".

Fast came a thrust of the colleague's elbow accompanied by her soft voice: "Put it away, it's a tampon."

You DON'T EXPECT PEOPLE TO GIVE YOU TAMPONS WHEN YOU MEET THEM, RIGHT? :-) RIGHT?

I must say here that they are rather new in this wrapping. and honestly, it could be anything...

Who Am I?

2009-03-17T19:15:00.000+01:00

Sometimes it hits me that I simply cannot put my feelings or my personal traits in one file box or another to be classified and done with. I'm not always pleased with it. Sometimes I feel our identity is just another vague and blurry element added to the uncertainty of our lives.

Yes, I'd like to say I'm nice. I guess I usually am. Except for when I'm not, that is. When I am ready for a word fight or incredibly good at finding flaws in good things. And saying something about that out loud. AND I KNOW it takes so little to make people smile. And you take so much when you spread negative energy.

I'm painfully honest. Well, not really. I lie sometimes. Lying is really not my thing, but ... do you know the feeling when you simply don't want to be bothered with small things that would make you look stupid or worse than they think you are? A small lie... to them or to me?

But I AM painfully honest. I'm not good at lying. In fact, I'll tell you the truth even when you would prefer something else. Anything else. It doesn't help to hit my head afterwords. Feelings have been hurt. Ouch. Sorry, I didn't mean to. Another lie - of course I did.

I'm hardworking. Yeah right! I can do quite some work and do it well when I feel like it. But when I don't, I can be a regular couch potato or a potato rolling round my own an other blogs. I'm brilliant at finding excuses - you know, this is a perfect writing and language exercise (except the mistakes don't get marked in red or corrected).

I have a sense of humour. Really? Who's laughing? I guess I must have outgrown it...

I'm ... what else am I?

I guess I'm an ordinary minestrone soup of personal traits, feelings, flaws and virtues. Yep, that must be it.

Spring Walk

2009-03-16T21:50:00.001+01:00

It was an ordinary afternoon - I was washing the dishes, cleaning the kitchen... always the same, I guess you know the feeling. The sun, this mischievous thing, stretched its rays into our kitchen only to show me the spots I had missed. Okay, the broom, the mop, the regular accessories...

The bathroom has this thing with lots of clothes that don't smell nice. They are in there for a reason - waiting for me to put them into that revolving drum with occasional showers and liquids with nicer smells. And the bathroom itself needed a caring hand. The sun was very kind to me again, distracting me when I decided to be a good girl and turn the place into an unpleasant-smell- free-and-sparkling room that would fit in the cheesiest of commercials with one of those perfect housewives someone has made incredibly happy by giving her the newest thing that will kill all known germs and some we have no idea of yet. But will soon, so.... better safe than sorry.

Anyway, I didn't get that and all because of those index fingers that the sun has many. They kept pointing at one spot and another and I was fed up. I picked the phone and called my colleague who said she was doing something about the laundry. We needed ten more minutes to get ready and meet for a walk...

I had one road in mind, she had another and we chose to take a third one. And learn. It was not far from home, but we soon found new paths, got lost and found our way again. And enjoyed the sun that was teasing me before. It was like charging the batteries, waking my soul by using my body.

It was good. And the bathroom is OK now. The clothes, too. You can see some photos below. I put them there before I knew I would write this.

Spring is Here!

2009-03-16T19:40:00.000+01:00

(all pics clickable to enlarge)

Country road, take me...

...for a walk.

Show me where Spring is coming into the land.

The pastures that are turning green...
... and vineyard after winter rest...

Show me marvels rarely seen...

...and show me what hard working hands have done ...

the fields all neat in golden sun.

Is She really really here? Oh sure she is! She is, my dear!

It makes my soul feel light and high

like birds all free up in the sky.

The blog award: “When Life Hands You Lemons”

2009-03-13T00:18:00.000+01:00

I was thrilled to receive this award! :)) Thanks, Viznine!

The terms and conditions set out for this award :

1) Put the logo on your blog or post.
2) Nominate at least 10 blogs that show great attitude or gratitude.
3) Link to your nominees within your post.
4) Let the nominees know that they have received this award by commenting on their blog.
5) Share the love and link to the person from who you received your award.

And these are my 10 nominees, ten authors I love to learn from, that make me smile or laugh and ten whose language I enjoy reading, so vivid and fluent it is and often accompanied with great photos! I added a thought for each of you, I hope you don't mind:

LShields
hope your words help you and others in hard times

Teri - for nice little highlights of the present and the past

mo.stoneskin - for your unique sense of humour when everyday things can make you LOL more than once a post

Teresa R. - for the great photos, kind thoughts, teaching important little things to those who want to learn – and even a giveaway…

TheBlueRidgeGal - for the great photos and the stories that come with them and the humor you can put in everyday event that could otherwise make you angry…

Kim - (yep! we need chamomile tea sometimes)…for making us think about things that make you think.

Skye - weekly injection of chuckles – what is there to explain

Simplysweeter- thanks for sweetening our blogging, you’re getting it for the originality in your field

fynneus - I hope I’m not disturbing here, I like this positive attitude

Last but not least
Viznine - again for bringing laughter and keeping track with our comments

Here! I hope you like it. Now pass the award on....

Write neatly!

2009-03-11T16:48:00.000+01:00

(All pics clickable to enlarge)

I remember the first grade.I loved school! In general, I was a shy, self-conscious kid, but school was definitely a place where I could shine! Well, sort of. You see, I knew most of the answers to all sorts of questions, spelling was a piece of cake, math was like playing games. Yes, I could make a mess at art (not my thing, art), I was kind of clumsy at P.E. And, I mustn't forget I missed a tone or two at music (actually, I sang out of tune completely). But in the end, my grades were great and I was very proud of them, even developing a sort of arrogance, feeling I was better than some of my classmates. Arrogance is NOT ME. It just disappeared as it came.

I remember clearly what my first grade teacher said (one of those mom-like-teachers): Your grades are perfect, but if handwriting was a subject like maths, you would have to repeat class. You would fail completely.

It was said with a smile, but I had heard that before. My handwriting was just sooooo ugly! When we learned cursive writing, I tried to do everything in the exact way as our teacher did. I JUST COULDN'T! The letters ended either too low or too high, crossing the lines that were there to guide my hand. Where they were supposed to be round, they had some unexpected corners. Besides, I was terribly slow in writing (as I was in most other things).

My family commented on the looks of my notebooks, saying it was in genes -my brother was the same, sister only a little bit better, but neither mom nor dad wrote that ugly. Sometimes they joked about it, but when it got too bad, dad could get really angry. My brother and I had to practise letters and numbers in order to learn how to write them properly. Little did they know that I practised on my own, too, because I WANTED to write neatly.

It got worse and worse. At the age of thirteen I couldn't read what I wrote. Neither could anyone else, of course. I heard that over an over again. In different tones. Ugh! I was always clumsy with my fingers and writing most certainly involves some "finger activity".

In high school I heard the same comments. I tried and succeeded in writing legibly in most cases. Many notes were simply missing because I just wasn't one of those diligent students. I figured out how much work I needed to do to get by.

And then it happened.I fell in love with the drummer in my brother's band. It didn't last. It ended with a couple of letters. And they just HAD TO be neat. You should see the letters in those letters :) ! There they were, one by one, printed rather than cursive and looking so neat. I was so proud of myself.

It got a little bit easier. I copied lyrics of songs into a notebook, being very very careful about handwriting and even started to use my new skill in my school notebooks.

There is this funny thing about handwriting: people like me show in every word they write how they feel, how much they like what they're writing and how much time they have to write what they're writing. So these are some of my creations that were written in the last few years.

Some planning, when I had time and will to do it. In the beginning, at least, then I got kind of fed up with it :An exercise at a language school - I loved it, had an idea and very little time. I don't know why I chose red. I guess I liked red that day:
And I had some worse notes from meetings I didn't want to attend. Notes from one I attended with a bad headache, are particularly illegible.

An exercise we did with a boy, him talking and me doing the writing - it had to be neat for him to be able to read

:See? Even my "neat" isn't neat.

Of all the things people have said about this the worst thing was that some people think that everyone can write neatly, you just have to try. If your handwriting is not neat, or if it's horrible like mine, then you are lazy and obviously don't care. That is SO NOT TRUE!!!

I often come across notes, exercises and test I can hardly read, but in most cases I can - with my experience! This is one of them, far from the worst:

I NEVER say to a child: "Write neatly!"
I'm never angry about it.

I do say: "Try to write more legibly. It's important! It will save you a lot of trouble."
The reply is often: "But I can't write neatly!"
Me: "I'm not telling you to. But it must always be legible enough for people to read it. I myself write terribly, but for you, I try hard and you can read, can't you?"

They're usually surprised. The reason is that I use a kind of first-grade handwriting for the short notes on the blackboard.(Or I type and use the projector.) Yes, I can do that for a limited amount of text if I try. But that just isn't me.

I'm not writing this for the followers...

2009-03-08T15:13:00.000+01:00

... but you sure put a big smile on my face when I see there is one more of you guys on my list! :D

Thanks! I'll try not to disappoint you.

(Now what do I do to make you tell me IN WORDS what you think about all this? Let me think...)