Category Archives: MORALA SEM

Nekoč, nekje

Sobotna ljubljanska jutra so bila pretežavna za kar koli drugega, zato sem še dopoldne pogosto odpešačila na železniško postajo.

Med potjo se nisem mogla izogniti razmišljanju o preteklem garaškem tednu, analiza, sinteza, projekcija, okej. Bo. Dobra stran garanja za plačevanje najemnine mladi pianistki, ki v Ameriki pazi otroke, da si lahko s fulbrajtom privošči študij, je vsesplošna življenjska amnezija. Čez teden moram drugim poklicno pripovedovati veliko tega in mi ni treba razmišljati še o sebi. Kaj šele o tem, da predavateljstvo tudi ni ta pravi poklic zame. Kaj pa naj bi? Najemnina, diplomiranka, lajf. Pika.

Na srečo mojih cajtngov drugi obiskovalci ljubljanske železniške postaje niso preveč cenili. Izbiro med Süddeutsche, Frankfurter Allgemeine in Zeit sem opravila kar na licu mesta; odvisno od privlačnosti člankov na prvi strani.

Oh, ti časi! Ko sem še verjela, da obstaja Nekje, kjer so se judje sposobni izraziti o čisto vsem, analitično, strastno, osebno, neosebno, v dolgih besedah in z vso potrebno kompleksnostjo. Mene so bili v nasprotju z vsem tem krasnim novim svetom naštrikali povsem preprosto, zato med drugim tudi takšnih fines kot “levi in desni cajtngi” takrat nisem obvladala, sploh. Glavno, da vsebujejo dolge besede in še daljše članke.

A ti to bereš?
Je zanimalo francoskega soseda v moji novi nemški vasi, ki je z okom petelinjim zagledal Spiegel v moji roki. Seveda, se mi hoče biti navdušena, veliko zanimivih člankov vsebuje, na žalost imam zaradi preveč dela časa samo za en sam cajtng, ma paše, pa četudi pred spanjem.

Včasih.
Mu oklevajoče odvrnem.
Ne morem si privoščiti iskrenega odgovora, na podeželju je po vseh izkušnjah sodeč bolje biti previden tudi glede branja in ljudi ohranjati neobveščeno prijazne.


OOTD9: Party Time!

I must admit I don’t find the fact that we occasionally organize our own parties, just for the two of us, strange in any way. After all, it is nice to have a relaxed talk or a relaxing silence with someone you know while eating well, drinking merrily and wearing party clothes noone will comment upon because they get worn only for this purpose. Like really high heels: Continue reading


Impertinance Day

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Heute: Darjeeling mit Fettaugen.

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Again …

‘Common, move closer, buddy!’

Taking his time to (maybe or maybe not) do my bidding and silently observing with one rolling eye how I go on pouring hot coffee all over my padded bra and shirt for a terribly long time while concentrating on my camera 

my buddy finally comes closer.

He’s a sight well worth the coffee stench for the rest of the afternoon. Continue reading


La dernière excursion – & OOTD

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My fifty shades

– … Would you please … beat me into sleeping the next time?

– … ❓ … 😀 … 🙄 …

– I’m so tired. I have no idea why I couldn’t sleep last night. I just couldn’t. I was awake as hell and it was 5 am. I checked. Now I cannot live. So just hit me senseless next time. You’ll sleep better, too, afterwards. What with my tossing and turning.

 

7asrtgfdddd


Slovaška.

Kdo bi si mislil … Danes zjutraj sem bila hvaležna, da nas večina Evrope zamenjuje s  Slovaško:

“Slovaška kandidatka za podpredsednico Evropske komisije je svoj nastop pred parlamentom opravila slabo in bo najbrž zavrnjena.”


Ponosna vlagateljica sem.

0_vlaganje

Skuhala 400 ml malinovega kisa in 400 ml vode plus 2 čajni žlički soli in prelila čez, od leve proti desni:

belo redkev (s črno kumino, gorčičnimi semeni in pikico črnega popra)

rdečo papriko (z mičken pimenta in mešane začimbe)

cvetačo (z mletimi klinčki, črno kumino, gorčičnimi semeni in črnim poprom)

kumare (z gorčičnimi semeni, črnim poprom, mletim luštrekom in 4 čajnimi žličkami rjavega cukra)

bučo hokaido (z mletim koriandrom, kurkumo, kuminom, klinčki, kardamomom, čilijem in 2 čajnima žličkama rjavega sladkorja)

Čez dva tedna v hladilniku se bo izkazalo, ali vsaj približno obvladam – zahtevna tematika, ker pri nas ne kupujemo, jemo ali hranimo vložene zelenjave, praviloma, edina izjema so občasne sladkokisle kumare, z vsem ostalim pa me lahko naženeš na Antarktiko.

Ma ko človk nikol ne ve, k čemu kaj kako kdaj paše, kenede, in kdaj se bo samega sebe presenetil 🙂

Tina, hvala že zdaj za idejo!


Glaskogen: Lessons In Love.

“I don’t think I can do that.”

It took me whole 60 seconds to find that out and say it. In my head, exclusively, I do have some pride. Now what? Wisely, I excluded the confession act as a possibility and gave it another try instead. And another one. I still couldn’t do it, but I walked on. Nothing else to do: I had claimed a few weeks ago, loudly and comprehensively, that I should be able to do it, so now it was too late to find out I couldn’t. So I walked on. Just like I’d do in real life, nothing new there for me.

Just before we started packing our rucksacks for a 3-day hiking tour, the rain had decided now was the time to act out the attention whore part and stick to it for some time. Of course it would, this is Sweden, for ticks’ sake! I could only hope my brand new Dalsland tan wouldn’t get rinsed off or mouldy till we get home. Home. Where the bed is. And the shower. Walk on.

Gradually, my body stopped hating me for carrying such a huge load for so long in such a rain and we made 8 kilometers that day. At the end of which, we discovered our first palace: they hadn’t bothered with the red carpet but painted the whole house red instead and inside, there were beds. And an oven. That day, I may or may not have believed in heaven on Earth …

Oh, the rain? It was our devoted companion all along. Jep. One of the most beautiful hiking areas there ever was, admired as water color. With the exception of a few moments, that is. Beautiful moments.

We spent the next night in another red house saying “Germans go home” on one of its walls. Sorry to say we didn’t. We couldn’t. Not after 15 kilometers in the rain and half a ton on our backs. But thank you for the oven and all the wood.

– – –

“Where did you spend your holiday, if I may ask?” The repairman was nice and talkative, so I told him the truth: “In Sweden.” The tremor rattling his body could be seen: “Sweden? Isn’t it … cold and rainy up there?” He checked my chocolate tan again – it must have provoked his question in the first place – and decided to stick to his opinion: “And grey?”

“Yes, it is,” I lied (not wanting all the world and her wife to travel there next summer), “but then, at least there are no mosquitos when the weather’s bad. And it is still very beautiful, Sweden is.”

That’s true. While I was afraid I’d be missing Finland way too much, I found Glaskogen area to be quite similar to our beloved Finnish hiking grounds and that was enough. Oh, and: we had enough sun in Dalsland to enjoy a 5-day paddling tour in the first place.

Strange, though … this year no one exclaimed Spain’s gonna win as soon as they heard us talking German. At least I thought that was strange until I finally had a look at a comprehensible Swedish newspaper: it contained the words Spain, Chile and fiasco. I couldn’t believe it.

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