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Včasih, ko se ti zdi, da stvari izgledajo solzno sivo in mučno tiho,
te preseneti kakšna mala stvar, obetajoča pomlad sredi jesenskega zatona,
kot to cvetoče drevo, na katerega sem naletela danes,
ti prišepne zgodbo o triperesni deteljici, največji srečnici,
in razjasni še nekaj jasnih stvari.
Sometimes in life when you feel everything looks teary grey and painfully quiet
there’s some little thing that surprises you, a promising spring in the middle of a fading autumn,
like this blossoming tree I found today,
whispers you a story about a three leaf clover, the luckiest of all,
and clears up a few other clear things.
Ptička mi je prišepnila, da si najboljša prijateljica želi takele brezprstne rokavice, primerne za vse dejavnosti, razen za prijemanje ježic!, pa sem ji jih v njej ljubih safari barvah (spet z veliko pomočjo moje mami) naredila za rojstni dan.
Ko sem si jih nadela, me je prijelo, da bi jih kar zase obdržala, tako krasno se podajo v ta prelep zgodnjejesenski, s soncem obsijan dan.
Objavljam že kar zdajle, še pred našim nocojšnjim srečanjem, računajoč, da je ravno na poti in torej stran od kateregakoli ekrana, službenega ali domačega, saj ne bi rada pokvarila presenečenja. :)
Little birdie has told me that my best friend wants to have a pair of fingerless gloves, suitable for everything but holding chestnut burrs!, so I made them in her beloved safari colours (again with a big help of my mum) for her birthday.
When I put them on I felt like keeping them for myself, they fit perfectly with this beautiful early autumn sunlit day.
I’m posting them already now, even before our meeting tonight, calculating that she is on the way at the moment and therefore away from any computer, whether at work or at home, as I don’t want to ruin the surprise. :)
Iz kostanja, ki smo ga zadnjič nabrali, sem naslednji dan naredila preprosto sladico. Kuhane kostanje sem prelila z ohlajeno čežano iz jabolk, ki sem jim med kuhanjem dodajala cimet, sladkor, obilo popra (namenoma) in na koncu, ko sem jo odstavila, vanjo vmešala še stopljeno maslo.
Ob lupljenju kostanja, ki je vedno dolgotrajno in mukotrpno delo, sem se spomnila na tretji razred osnovne šole. Takrat sem bila naročena na Kurirčka, mesečno revijo za otroke, ki je vsakič ponujala tudi en recept.
Zdaj me je zagrabila nostalgija in sem malo pobrskala po spletu, da bi našla kakšno povezavo, ki bi jo prilepila za tiste, ki te revije ne poznate, in da bi si malce osvežila spomin, pa o njej ni ne duha ne sluha, kot da ne bi obstajala, ne pozna je niti Wikipedija, ki kakor pozna vse. Razočarana.
No, ker sem trmasta, mi je uspelo izbrskati vsaj to, da je izhajala od leta '61, čez 30 let pa so jo, tako sem jaz razbrala, preimenovali v Kekca (lik, ki ga imam zelo rada, da ne bo pomote, a zgodovina slednje revije, tako berem, se očitno začne šele leta '91, brez omembe predhodnika).
Zakaj že? Kaj je bilo narobe s tistim imenom? Eh, saj vem, zakaj, zato, ker se pri nas vedno vse na juriš izbriše, maščevalno in privoščljivo, tudi dobre stvari, povzroči nove krivice in bedarije namesto samo popravi stare in izboljša obstoječe stanje, začne se zidati na novo, prenagljeno in plehko, kimajoče in po tujem zgledu, brez razmisleka in hrbtenice, brez temeljev, korenin in trohice ponosa.
Kakorkoli, tisto leto sem si pogumno zadala nalogo, da bom naredila prav vse jedi po receptih iz te revije. V oktobrski številki je bil takrat napotek za kostanjevo torto in ker se je približeval očijev rojstni dan, je padla odločitev: torta bo zanj.
Za lupljenje na tone kuhanega kostanja sem takrat vpregla vse družinske člane in lupili smo neskončno dolgo časa, lupili in lupili, na koncu pa mi torta, priznam, kar malo pričakovano, niti všeč ni bila. Ja, bu-hu, take grozne stvari so nas otroke doletele, če smo brali Kurirčka in podobne revije.
Tej sladici zato zdaj uporniško dajem ime jesenski kurirček in na sliki zgoraj je njih četica.
I made a simple dessert out of the chestnuts we had picked the other day. I cooked chestnuts and covered them with cooled čežana. It is a traditional Slovenian dish, an apple puree; I boiled chopped apples with a little water, meanwhile adding cinnamon, sugar, lots of pepper (intentionally) and at the end, when I stopped cooking it, stirred melted butter in.
While pealing chestnuts, which is always a hard and tedious work, I remembered my third year of primary school, when I was subscribed to a monthly magazine for children called Kurirček [=Little Courier] with a recipe in each.
Writing about this, I feel quite nostalgic, so I browsed the net to find a link, for those who don’t know the magazine and for me to refresh a memory, but there is no sign of it, just like it didn’t exist, not even on Wikipedia that knows like everything. Disappointed.
Well, since I am a stubborn girl I managed to dig out at least an information that it was published from ’61 on, but after 30 years it was, as I understood, renamed into Kekec (I like this character a lot, don't get me wrong, but the history of the Kekec magazine starts, as I read, obviously only in ’91, without mentioning its forerunner).
Why is that? What was wrong with that name? Eh, I know why, of course, because that year we got our independence together with so called better regime, capitalism (hm?), and our national habit is that we always delete everything old in an onrush way, whether good or bad, making new injustices and foolishness instead of just repairing old ones and improve things; we do it with a revenge, we start anew, all hasty and superficial, nodding and copying foreign models, without reflection and a spine, without foundations, roots and without a shred of pride.
Kakorkoli, that year back then I put myself on a mission to make every single recipe in that magazine. In the October issue there was a recipe for a chestnut cake and since my dad’s birthday had been approaching I made a decision: the cake is for him.
I mobilized all family members to help me pealing tons of cooked chestnuts, we pealed and pealed for ever and at the end, I admit, it was a bit expected, I didn’t even like the cake very much. Yes, boo-hoo, that sort of horrible stuff happened to us children, if we read the Kurirček and similar magazines in those times.
That is why I rebelliously name this dessert little autumn courier and there’s a troop of them in the picture above.
Ko sva se vrnila z morja, naju je v nabiralniku čakala knjiga, ki sva jo naročila pred kakim mesecem, ko ni šla še niti v tiskarno, in nato nanjo kar malo pozabila.
Je pa zato bila toliko lepše presenečenje in sva takoj naslednji večer preizkusila edini namaz, za katerega sva pač takrat imela vse sestavine pri roki, čebulni che (na sliki), ki nama je bil zelo všeč in sva računala, da, tako piše v knjigi, se bo v hladilniku upiral še kak teden, pa so nama ga, ker se je stvar seveda razvedela, naslednjega dne v najini odsotnosti speljali za zabavico, na katero sva bila sicer vabljena, a ko sva prispela tja, sva lahko le še pomazala skledico.
No, pa je prišel konec tedna, ko sva se namenila prirediti fotoogled najinih morskih potepanj, in sva rekla, nič, gremo na naslednji namaz, artičokasti arty, in upava, da ga kaj ostane še za naju kasneje za večerjo pa mogoče še za zajtrk, pa spet ni šlo.
Naslednji v vrsti so smrdo, pečakuča in toska. Takrat ne vabiva nikogar! :)
(knjiga je nastala Za mizo)
When Miro and I returned from the sea there was a cookbook about spreads waiting for us in the mail. Right away the next evening we tried the only spread we had ingredients for at the time, an onion one (in the photo above).
We liked it very much and we thought that it would last for a week, just like it says in the book, but because the word spread around it was, in the time of our absence, swiped out of our refrigerator for a next door party we’ve been invited to, but when we arrived all we could do was to wipe the bowl.
So there it came, the end of the week when we wanted to host a photo presentation of our vacation adventures and we said ok, let’s go to the next spread, of artichoke, hoping that there will be enough of it just for the two of us later for dinner or maybe even breakfast the next morning, but nothing again.
All spreads have original and funny made up names. We already have a few favourites waiting in line, but then we’re not inviting anyone! :)
Ja, včeraj sem kukala pod kiklce gob, ki jih je v teh dneh res toliko, da mi je pošteno žal, da nisem gobarka, pa tako rada imam gobje jedi. Je pa naša druščina zato občudovala polne košare poznavalcev, ki jih je povsod mrgolelo, in nabrala nekaj kostanja.
Odkar sem bila zadnjič v tem koncu gozda, je pri izviru namesto dosedanjega jogurtovega lončka nastala že prava mala samopostrežna krčma, skodelice, pisane kot jesensko listje, tam namreč rastejo prav tako kot gobe po dežju. [zadnji posnetek]
Ja, I’ve been peeking under the skirts of mushrooms. There were so many of them yesterday that I really regretted I am not a mushroom hunter, like so many people in my country, as I adore mushroom dishes. But our little group did admire full baskets of the experts along the way and picked some chestnuts instead.
Since my last visit of this part of the forest, when there was only a yoghurt cup, there’s a real self service pub grown up by the water spring. We have a saying here in Slovenia that something is growing like mushrooms after rain and this is what has happened with those cups, colourful like autumn leaves. [the last photo]
[nadaljevanje te objave]
Saj kar ne morem verjeti, ampak v teh, počitniških dneh sem bila v postelji vsak dan že pred deveto zvečer, televizijo sem opazila šele ob odhodu, na novice še pomislila nisem, jaz, ki sem se že nekje ob začetku srednješolskih let pregovarjala z domačimi, ker sem v nasprotju z njimi želela gledati poročila, predvolilna soočenja ali pa kako politično omizje, čudaško, vem, ja :), in ker sem se v teh minulih nekaj dneh vsakič, kljub ne najudobnejši vzmetnici, pogreznila v spanec brez ene same skrbi, sem se zbujala z neverjetno lahkoto, pričakujoč dogodivščine svežega dne.
In ko pride nov dan, ko se potikava naokoli, bodisi brez besed zagledana v čudesa narave ali stvaritve človeških rok bodisi ko po otroško tuliva, ko se mečeva v valove morja, oboje je tako zdravilno! Telo in um se povrneta v pravilne nastavitve. Takrat postanem spet tista, najboljša jaz.
(posnetki so iz Biograda na Moru, Pakoštan, Senja, Pašmana [Bokolj, samostan Ćokovac], Ugljana [Kukljica], okolice Vranskega jezera in tu in tam ob poti tjagrede in nazajgrede)
[the continuation of this post]
I just cannot believe it, but in those vacation days I was in bed already before nine in the evening, I noticed tv only at when we were going home, it didn’t cross my mind to check the news not even once, and this is very unusual for me who had been arguing with my parents because, opposite to them, I wanted to watch the news, political debates and similar stuff since my middle teenage years, weird, I know :), and due to falling asleep with no worry on my mind, despite not so comfortable mattress, I have been waking up these past few days with an incredible ease, expecting what a fresh day brings.
And when the new day comes, when we wander around, whether looking speechless at wonders of nature or creations of human hands whether screaming like a child when throwing ourselves into waves, both is so curing! Both, body and mind reset to the original. This is the time when I become the best of me again.
(the photos were taken on Croatian coast: Biograd na Moru, Pakoštane, Senj, islands Pašman and Ugljan, in the Vrana Lake area and here and there by the road both ways)
[nadaljevanje te objave]
Kako rada imam izgubljanja po starih evropskih mestih, tista sredozemska, kot je na primer Šibenik na zgornjih posnetkih, ki mi je najljubši od tokrat videnih, imajo še prav poseben šarm, in – a sem vam že povedala, da so mi potepanja z Mirom nekaj najlepšega, dogodivščine brez primere, raziskovanja še neznanega in občudovanja že videnega.
S tistim tako znanim nemirom v sebi, ko vem, da imava vsak dan sproti zamišljen le okvirno, da se bova vmes prepustila navdihu in naključnim odkritjem, in se na koncu vse poklopi, spontano in mehko, kot da bi se držala vnaprej napisanega natančnega načrta, ki pusti okus po popolnem dnevu.
(prvo sliko je posnel Miro)
se nadaljuje…
[the continuation of this post]
Oh how I love getting myself lost in old European towns, those Mediterranean, like Šibenik in the pictures above is, one of my favourites from this journey, they have particularly special charm; and – have I told you already that travelling with Miro is one of the best things for me, adventures with no comparison, exploring of unknown and admiring of already seen.
With that unrest inside, so familiar to me, when I know that for each day at the time we only have a few ideas in our head and later we let ourselves get inspired by random discoveries on our way and at the end everything come to place, spontaneously and softly, just like we would have been following some great plan made in advance, which leaves a taste of a perfect day behind you.
(the first photo was taken by Miro)
to be continued…
[nadaljevanje te objave]
Zgodilo se je, da naju je nekega večera, ko sva prijetno utrujena od novih morskih vtisov odklenila vrata najine počitniške sobe, tam pričakal, ne boste verjeli!, v krogu frfotajoč netopir in naju za kake četrt ure zaposlil z nakazovanjem mu smeri proti izhodu, z obilo smeha, z mojimi občasnimi kriki med snemanjem videa, kako Miro krili po zraku z rokami in dežnikom, ki sva ga s seboj vzela samo tako, za vsak primer, torej za popolnoma drug primer, nejevero in čudenjem, kako je kljub zaprtim oknom prišel notri, in logičnim podvprašanjem: če ni mogel priti noter danes, a je prejšnjo noč preživel z nama? Hm, malo strašljivo.
In zgodilo se je tudi, da naju je spet nekega drugega večera »domov« pospremil prijazen in igriv pesjan, ki se mu ni dalo dopovedati, da ostanek večerje, zavit v prtiček, ni kost, temveč banana, in ki se je, kljub privoljenju lastnika hiše, naj spi v veži, kasneje, ko sva izginila v sobo v prvo nadstropje, pritihotapil za nama, se ulegel pred najina vrata in prav užaljeno godrnjal.
(Zadar [prvih 5 posnetkov], kjer sva poslušala morje igrati na orgle, in Vransko jezero [zadnjih 5 posnetkov], naravni park in zavarovano območje ptic)
se nadaljuje…
[the continuation of this post]
It happened one evening when we returned to our vacation room filled with new sea impressions, that when we unlocked the door there it was, you wont believe it!, a bat fluttering in a circle and for the next quarter of an hour it made us busy with gesticulating with our hands showing the bat a direction towards the exit, with plenty of laughter, my occasional screams while catching on video Miro zigzagging with his hands and an umbrella, which we took with us just in case, a very different case than this, disbelief and wondering how it got in since the windows were closed, and the logical subquestion: if it didn’t came in today, did it spend the previous night with us? Hm, a bit scary.
And it also happened one other evening that we were accompanied “home” by one friendly and playful dog that didn’t want to understand that the remains of our dinner wrapped in a napkin wasn’t a bone but a banana and that, despite of the house owner’s consent of letting it sleep in a lobby, it later, when we disappeared in the room, sneaked to the first floor, lie down in front of our door and offendedly grumbling.
(Croatia: Zadar [the first 5 photos], a city where we listened the sea playing on organ pipes and Vrana Lake [the last 5 photos], a nature park and an ornithological reserve)
to be continued…
