Light at the end of the tunnel?

It's New Year's Eve and it's mighty loud out there as I write. The sunset here was less than spectacular. But there was more colour in the sky than in the previous ten or twelve days together. There will be more artificial colour in the sky as the year draws to an end. Which, probably, is not a bad thing. Poor animals, though.

Tradition

I'm not a stickler for tradition. But there are a few things I can't imagine the New Year without. One is the New Year's Concert of the Vienna Philharmonic. The other one is sarma.

Sarma is best heated so it is usually prepared in advance. And today was my sarma day. Basically, I prepare a mixture of minced meat (beef and pork combined), rice and spices, fried quickly on sliced onion and roll it in leaves of sour cabbage. I put the the rolls in a pot, add a few slices of smoked ham between layers, season with paprika and add enough water to cover the sarma. The whole thing then cooks slowly for about two hours.

The preparation is not complicated but it is time consuming. The good thing is I don't have to think what to serve on New Year's Day. Bon appetit!

Follow the sun

I had things to do today. Nothing special, just the ordinary things. Shopping, cooking, cleaning the flat, stuff like that.

But my energies were low. The weather induced weariness became too much to bear. So I left things as they were, sat in the car and drove out of town, through the greyness of the lowlands towards higher grounds. Haven't taken a trip for a long time. And I took along my fancy schmancy camera. Haven't taken it out for a long time.

So, out of sheer joy, I pointed the camera out at random and snapped a few shots while driving out of the mist towards the mountains bathing in the afternoon sun and again upon return.

I feel much better as a result.

Monochrome

Damn, these days are straightaway depressing! And they seem to be lasting for ages! No matter what I shoot, I can't seem to capture any colour. No shadows, no contrasts, everything dulled by the all-pervading all-consuming greyness.

Musing

I was contemplating writing something about the end of year festivities of my childhood but then other things (namely a hoopla or whatever memes are called nowadays; whatever they are, I hate them) hit me (my alter ego to be exact) on a similar theme. I'm not copy/pasting what I had written but can still write a few words about this theme.

Well, religious festivities were not officially holidays in the country of my childhood. Many, especially in the rural areas, celebrated those holidays nonetheless. The rest of us knew of the existence of Christmas and Easter and we even painted eggs on Easter but were oblivious of their symbolism (a Good Thing in my book). Santa Claus was something exotic that didn't belong in our world. But we did have another Good Man: Grandpa Cold (Dedek Mraz) who brought presents to good children on New Year's Eve so we were not deprived of that part of the holiday. And we decorated a tree but not before a day before New Year's Eve.

So Christmas was of no importance in my family, but there was one thing: grandmother and later mother would bake potica for Christmas and not the New Year. It was yummy (still is) so we never questioned the motive. But the most vivid memories are not those of potica but those of the sights and smells and excitement and expectation at the year's end.

Since Christmas has officially been made a holiday the family no longer gathers on New Year's Day to exchange presents but we do that on Christmas Day. But although I'm not too fond of any holiday (except for the fact we are free from work) I still prefer New Year and the memories it brings along. And the cosiness of home works best for me.

Walking on (thin) ice

Yes, it's been cold enough for our little pond to freeze over and every creeping crawling hopping running trudging creature appears to have crossed it.

Weather report

It's snowing here. That's all I have to say. Oh yes, and of course that hasn't been forecast.
Photos to follow (maybe).

small pleasures

tonight
some believers
celebrate
the birth
of a baby god
or whatever the child
born two thousand or so years ago
is deemed to be
others
celebrate the return
of a sun god
of one variety
or another
me?
i'm just pleased
i don't have to work
but more importantly
that we're heading
once more
towards life
towards spring

More weird things

Trees in my country have acquired nutty habits. Not only do they drink wine from the glasses they store in their branches, they also read papers and scare birds with firecrackers.
You can see evidence in the pic below.

Winter blossom

Now that all of us in the northern hemisphere find ourselves in winter, I'd like to introduce to all and sundry the Solstice Glower, a plant we can find here only in this cold season. The strange colour surrounding it in fact emanates from its roots and only lasts a few seconds. The light is alleged to be caused by an extremely rare species of glowworm which, although sexually mature, remains all its life in a larva stage and copulates only on the first day of winter in the roots of this plant. The insects' sexual activity stimulates the plant to grow clusters of already fertilized blossom opening into the cold winter air which is essential for the development of seed; all this, as already mentioned, in a matter of seconds. Afterwards, the Solstice Glower assumes a form identical to the surrounding flora and can not be discerned from the rest of the dead weeds.

Winter

It starts officially tomorrow at about 6 a.m. GMT although the weather we've been having lately is absolutely wintry except for the lack of snow in the central and western parts of the country.

By the way, and I think I've said it before, I HATE winter, literally or metaphorically.

Breathing

Our bodies are made so that most of the time we aren't even aware of all the basic functions they perform. We take them for granted (which, essentially, they are) until one (or more) of those functions start giving us trouble.

We can live without food for many days, without water for a few days (not that I want to try), but try living more than a few minutes without breathing. Good thing we do it automatically, yes?

And then all of the sudden this automatic usually effortless activity becomes difficult. You feel exhausted and slightly feverish and you want to get some sleep. But, whichever way you turn, something is blocking your respiratory channels. Where does all that mucus come from? You turn around in bed trying to find a reasonably comfortable position, but in vain. Oh well... here goes a good night's sleep. And you feel more tired in the morning than you did last night. And you still can't breathe. And there are piles of used Kleenex all over the place. And you drink gallons of tea and overdose yourself with vitamin C and paracetamol and whatever you can think of and wonder whether you'll ever recover from this ordeal.

Damn that cold!

Enough!

I've had it! I'm calling in sick tomorrow. Can't work like this anymore (cough, cough, snuffle)...
Besides, it was -7 C this morning and tomorrow it may get even colder.

Defrosting

The office has warmed up enough to make work bearable if not pleasant, thank you for asking. Should be back to normal by tomorrow. I only wish I was back to normal... but I don't think a sore throat and snotty nose will disappear overnight. In a few days, hopefully but... damn, I hate feeling under the weather.

Cold

It is commonly known that I strongly dislike cold. Oh, I don't mind so much if I can dress up warm and move around freely knowing than before long I'll be back in a warm shelter of home sipping tea and munching biscuits. But the unexpected cold, the kind you can't prepare for in advance, that's the one that gets at me.

This weekend was probably the coldest in the whole year. Sub- or around zero temperatures all the time. And there was the wind - the bitter northerly gusting with up to 50 miles per hour, cutting to the bone. Well, I hate cold but I hate wind combined with cold even more and there's a good reason for that - but that's another story.

So, imagine my surprise and exasperation when I entered the office this morning and a blast of cold air hit me in the face. Some idiot had left a window open on Friday and the office was bloody freezing! Of course we set what few radiators there are to maximum but hat didn't help much - the place still felt like a fucking freezer, even after several hours. But there was work to do and how we managed through the day is beyond me. I had to flush hot water over my numb fingers every half-hour or so if I wanted to type at all. Phew!

I dread the idea of having to come back to that cold place that is my office tomorrow and I can already feel scratching in my throat. But I have work to do so what else can I do? Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!

Mystery of a wine glass

A year ago I posted on my former blog the following picture and text:-




boxing day. the weather is mild, overcast, but clouds are gradually breaking. i turn into the forest and slightly uphill, heading towards one of my favourite spots. i pass a few fungi and a small heap of rabbit droppings along the way. by the edge of the forest some daisies still turn their white faces towards where the sun is supposed to be. frost has spared them so far. i hear a buzzard calling but don't see the bird.

a faint shaft of sunlight breaks through the clouds and a reflection catches my eye. there, stuck in the fork of a tree, a glass! and just below, another one. i explore further. an empty bottle of unidentified liquor, a spent firework. there must have been a party last night.



I passed the clearing at the edge of which I had first spotted these glasses a few times this year. The lower glass disappeared from the tree soon after my first spotting but the upper glass remained in the same spot where I had first seen it throughout the year. Fascinating, isn't it! So, yesterday I thought I'd take another photo of said glass as evidence. I wonder if anyone else is aware of its existence and how much longer it can remain there untouched. Time will tell, I reckon.

If trees could speak...

...oh what stories they would tell!

Just because I'm so inclined...

here's another couple of snowflakes

Some Foolishness on Friday

I snatched the link from Hat and thought I'd play the thing. As I knew would be, I can't for the life of me find myself in the following text (ok, maybe just a little). But just for the fun of it, here goes: -

What The Holidays Mean to You

For you, the holidays are about emotional connections and bonds. You are happiest being around those you love. You celebrate the holidays in an over the top style. If something is cute, you'll buy it. People end up with a lot of gifts from you - and your house is like a holiday wonderland, full of decorations. During the holidays, you feel magical. You love all of the decorations and how happy people are. You like to sit back and take it all in. You think the holidays should be nostalgic and sweet. The holidays bring out your inner child. Your best holiday memories are of childhood foods and traditions. You secretly still wish you believed in Santa Claus.

What Do the Holidays Mean to You?

Don't you just hate it...

We had glorious sunshine here today and no time for me to take any pics. Grrrrrrrrrrrr!

Hairdo

I'm not particularly fond of visiting the hairdresser's. Feels like such a waste of time. First you wait for your stylist to mix the appropriate chemicals for the dye. Next you wait for her to apply said dye. Then there's more waiting for the colour to take effect and if you're lucky you get a magazine that is less than two months old. Not that that matters to me as I (almost) never buy such magazines and everything I read is new to me. So, after an hour or so your hair is rinsed, shampooed, treated with a conditioner and massaged (if you're lucky), then rinsed again, and off you go to another chair where scissors and other similar devices are applied to cut your hair and trim it into appropriate form. After that, the hair is fanned and shaped with the aid of gel and hair spray into something that only lasts a few hours. And you've spent a couple of hours there and listened to various gossip and in the end paid for all that. And yet, in about six weeks everything is done all over again. Phew!

Almost gone...

just like this year...

Birds

The narrow path on the northern side of the pond was muddy and slippery so she plodded carefully along the bank. A movement caught her attention. It couldn't have been ducks, they don't move so quickly, and they are not so brightly coloured. She found a spot where she could see through the reeds the action on water. A small flock of gulls slowly settled on the surface.

While absorbed in the graceful ballet on the water, she sensed movement behind her. "Gulls," she said without turning back.

"Indeed. Haven't seen them around the pond yet and I walk here quite often," said a male voice.

"Well, I saw two or three one day last winter." She turned around to face the man. "Quite a diverse life we have here. I even saw a grebe once."

"Yes, a great crested grebe. Saw it too. And to think they wanted to concrete the banks, thus destroying this natural habitat. Scandal!"

"I agree. To have a place like this practically in the middle of the city with all the wildlife, including frogs and dragonflies is priceless."

"Frogs... I could hear them some years ago but now I only hear the roar from the motorway. Ah, the progress... it's kind of sad how little consideration there is for the things natural."

"I can still hear the frogs all the way to my flat on summer nights. Noisy creatures but I like them. I really wish humans left the nature alone. The wildlife does have amazing ability to adapt to all kinds of maltreatment but there is surely a limit to that." She looks at her watch. "Oh well, I had better be going... things to do... Nice talking to you, bye!"

"Bye."

She left the pond followed by the soundless flapping of wings above.

Snowflakes

I'm not exactly fond of snow - or winter in general - but i was having a bit of fun here anyway:-

Phew!

Isn't social life towards the end of the year exhausting? One is expected to be in a dozen different places at the same time plus have fun in all of those places, and then repeat the whole thing the following day and another and another and... and so on. No wonder one feels like a dry leaf towards the end of the year.


I wonder why people feel the need to socialise at this time of year... the short days, the cold and usually dismal weather? There's one thing I know: I much prefer the cosiness of home and a good book or, as is lately the case, a comp to having to spend time with people I hardly know or even dislike, possibly in clothes I can't stand and shoes that will give me blisters.

I know...

I have posted a similar pic before. But here is another proof that ravaging rubbish bins is a behavior inherent in the local population of hooded crows.

Sport Billy was here?

On my way home the other day I came across these. They were hovering gently, suspended in mid-air, apparently waiting for their legitimate owner. I wonder how they got so dirty, though, if they can fly, and what they were doing there, in the middle of the forest, all alone. I tried to grasp them but they wouldn't let me. So what, they weren't my number anyway.

Prešeren

On this day 207 years ago the Slovenian most acclaimed poet was born. His name is France Prešeren and rather than his birth, the Slovenians have chosen to celebrate his death. So, December 3 passes relatively unnoticed whereas February 8, the day of Prešeren's death, is the national culture day, a state holiday in Slovenia.

But I think it appropriate to mark the bard's birthday with one of his poems.


A Farewell to My Youth

O happier half of days decreed to me,
My early years, so soon you passed away:
Few were the flowers that blossomed on that tree,
And they, scarce budded, fell into decay.
Few were the rays of hope that I could see,
And storms would often rage in wild array;
Still, for my youth, dark though thy dawn may be,
My heart will ever cry, God be with thee!

Too soon the fruits of knowledge did I eat!
Where dripped their poison, faded all delight:
I saw how honesty and truth could meet
Among the human kind with scorn and spite.
I sought true love - an empty dream and fleet,
Which disappeared as dawn broke into light!
And wisdom, justice and the learned mind
Were dowerless maids - no suitors could they find.

I saw how those who are not loved by fate
Their ship in vain against the wind may steer;
The one who is not born to high estate
Shall see no Fortune at his cradle appear;
I saw how fame is purchased at the rate
Of current cash - no price too high, too dear;
I saw in glory's and in honour's seat
All that beguiles men's minds with lies, deceit.

These sights and others uglier by far
Burned in my heart till cruelly it bled;
Yet thoughts like these the joys of youth will bar
And quickly drive them out of heart and head;
Fair cloud-born castles glimmer from afar,
Green lawns arise where desert places spread,
Hope kindles many a wanton, beckoning light,
To lure the young and tempt them in the night.

They know not of the sudden storm that blows,
Dispelling phantom shapes that cannot last,
And all too soon forget misfortune's woes,
Forget the wounds once they are healed and past -
Until the changing years show how life flows
Into a vessel that is leaking fast.
Still, O my youth, dark though thy dawn may be,
My heart will ever cry, God be with thee!

Difference

A very subtle difference can make the picture or not. ~Annie Leibovitz

Here comes the sun...

...or does it?