2021 Grateful 45: At the end of the road

For several years now, when taking the back roads home from Nagykanizsa, I’ve passed a signpost to Zalaújlak. Each time I’ve promised myself that someday I would visit that village and see what’s there. That someday was today. Read more

A field of swans

For those of you who sailed through menopause without even noticing, I envy you. For those of you who have been through the horrors but never warned me what it might be like, I’m mad at you. For those of you currently mired in menopausal madness, I’m with you. Read more

On structure, gaps, and COVID

Back in the early COVID days, I was chatting to a mate who was coming to terms with life without the structure of getting up and going to work and then coming home again. They noted that this had been my world for quite a few years and that until now they’d never quite appreciated how hard it was to function without structure when structure was what you were used to. Read more

2020 Grateful 3: Revelling in the rural

I was born into a city. I might have been about 2 when we moved to a provincial town. And then to another city. And then to a village. I’d spend the next however many years boomeranging between urban and rural, flirting for a time with the metropolitan before embracing the bucolic. At any given moment in time, I was happy where I was. I never found myself in the city wishing I was in the country or in the country wishing I was in the city. Somehow my moods have matched my modes of living. Read more

2020 Grateful 15: As ghoulish as it gets

There one old lady in our village who’s never seen outside without a headscarf. There are a few of them, but the one I’m thinking about wears the traditional hand-pleated skirt over stockings and rides a bike. She’s too bosomy to fit a witch profile but her on her bike is as close it comes to witches on broomsticks in this part of the world. Read more

2020 Grateful 24: Storm damage

We had a doozy of a storm here the other night. It hit Zala county hard with reports of evacuations in some villages, major flooding in others, and fallen trees just about everywhere. We were lucky. We lost a teapot. Read more

2020 Grateful 25: Ain’t life a peach?

Himself, at the door of my office with a look of consternation on his face. Me, engrossed in editing a piece of text on a subject too dry to mention, trying but failing to ignore the hovering. Himself, with a proclamation: We have a bit of a peach crisis. Cue end of my evening. Read more

2020 Grateful 31: Kisrabló

There’s a battle of wills going on in our house. Occasionally it involves roaring and shouting followed by a couple of days of sulking or overt disdain. And then things get back to normal. Read more

2020 Grateful 34: A different view

It’s been a while, thank God, since I’ve felt the black cloud of depression, the sort that that requires doctors and medication. My heart goes out to those who are battling the beast during this pandemic or living with those who are. It can’t be easy. Sure, I have days that start and finish in nothingness with nothing much of note happening in between. Those are the days I have to remind myself to be grateful that I woke up at all and that what I woke to could be a helluva lot worse. I have nothing to complain about.  Nothing. At. All. Read more

2020 Grateful 42: Memories of Rabbitt Carter

Walking down the village to mass yesterday, I noticed three women in front of me all in black. The men outside the church were in their usual spot – all in black, too. Himself was in dark colours but I was in a bright red sleeveless jacket over a pale blue jumper with a multicolour blue scarf. I felt a little bright. Read more