An Adventure Story

A while ago, I don’t know, maybe two or three weeks ago, one of the roosters had something sticky stuck to his feathers and the only way to remove it without hurting the bird was to cut  the feathers. Easy enough. Because it was cold, I put on my multi-purpose coat I always wear when I have to do things outside , in winter, when I am home. I brought  out the scissors, cut the feathers, job’s done.  Put the scissors on a table outside because I had to do something and could not go in the house to return it to a safe place so we can find it easily the next time we need it. End of story.

Sometime later, because of an event at school, I had to go to the city and refill my laser printer cartridge. The last time I had done that was at the end of May 2015, and , as things usually are, when you need something the most it will find a way to break or need refilling. The bus must've come a few minutes early because I had to wait an hour in the station until another bus came that only took me in the next town where I jumped into a car with the same destination as me. (there’s a lot of hitchhiking going on in my world. Worth talking about some other time.)

In town, because the guy at the shop wasn’t coming until noon to refill my cartridge, I went shopping. And I say a really nice Ficus Benjamina that I regret to this day not buying it. A few years back, when I was in college, I was in a supermarket when I saw a Benjamina and instantly fell in love with it. So deeply that I spent the last money I had on me to buy it, risking to get stranded in a strange city at night with no place to sleep.  It wasn’t expensive, the risk of not catching the bus home was higher. I loved that plant. However, I didn’t know at the time how to properly take care of it and, about a year and a half later, it died. I had always wanted a Ficus and now I have one, a Ficus Elastica, you know, the broad leaved, giant-growing type. However, ever since I saw that Benjamina I am determined the buy on in spring, of the first chance I get. I have learned a lot of things about plant growing since that unfortunate moment years ago.

Back to the actual story…

So, the event at school involved a lot of paper. Some of that paper needed to be cut into certain shapes and sizes. With a scissors. That I could not find. Before this school thing, I needed the scissors to cut open a few bags of pasta, some other ingredients for cooking, I looked for it, didn’t find it, resolve to using a knife. Cutting the papers the way I wanted, though, required a fine instrument made for just that. Definitely not a knife.

So I looked for the scissors. That day when I had put it on the table was long in the past. And it wasn’t there, as expected. Things rarely stay in the same place where you put them. Someone always comes and put them somewhere else. It is a universal rule. I assumed Mom took the scissors so she was the first person I asked where is it. She didn’t know. I looked all over the kitchen, maybe it was covered by something, maybe someone put it behind a flower pot or it fell on the floor and got swept under the couch. (Thing also have a tendency to disappear under furniture. Case-in-point, Mom’s hat. She bought it one day, she lost it the next, and we could not find in for a whole year. Can you guess where it was?) I looked in all the drawers in the house next. All of them, even in those I knew for sure in could not be. You know how it is when you lose something. Must look everywhere, including/especially in the place it could not possibly be, because a) you never put it there, b) it could not possibly fit in that place, c) because you remember one time putting it there but it may actually be a similar object or it happened several years ago, d) some other stupid reason to waste your time.

In the end I borrowed a pair of scissors from a kid at school and cut my papers the day before the event.

A few days later, I decided to spend my free time doing some cross stitching. I do that from time to time. It is calming. It keeps me from doing stupid things and it is also addictive because once I start I find it very difficult to stop. But I love it. Don’t know how other peoples do it, but in my world there is this custom that on March 1^st and 8^th of every year to offer people tokens that celebrate the coming of spring. There’s a big thing about this holiday. In the second half of February the markets and all shops are full of such tokens – basically, some good luck charm, tiny doll, a plastic flower that has attached to it a red and white string. (I will probably do an post on the subject when the time comes.)

Anyway, because I find the tokens they make nowadays quite tacky and totally ugly, and because I really love cross stitching , I decided to make my own small gifts. For that I needed a special type of cloth that needed to be cut into the needed shapes and sizes. And for that I need a pair of scissors.

That is why I started the search again. First I asked Mom,  then I looked through the same places as before even if I knew for sure this time I will not find it anywhere in them. Meantime, I found the bag of thread balls that I would need and decided to see what new colors should I buy. You can never have enough of them. That is where I found another scissors, a small one that was intended for nails (at least that is how it was sold in the shop) that I use for plants and sewing and that I had lost about a year ago and had given up the search. Problem solved.

I gave up on my scissors and decided to buy a new one and take better care of it in the future. Maybe install a tracking device on it , just in case.  In fact, I was in the shop yesterday and was thinking of buying one but I ended up getting a stapler. Not because I forgot or I didn’t have enough money. It was mostly because I didn’t want to open my mouth a third time and ask “Do you have scissors?”  Noooo. I talked a lot about the stapler and about finding the right kind of staples but not about the scissors. I thought, I’ll get one next time I come by.

In conclusion, I am the proud owner of a stapler that has the right type of stapes.

Yesterday evening, because it was cold I put on my coat and went to get some water from the well. Because it was cold I decided to put on gloves. Being a practical person at times (and because I find it easier to find them) I keep the gloves in one of the 5 pockets my wonder coat has. I usually put them in the same right side pocket but I deviate from time to time, that is why, last night when I decided to put them on , I searched both pockets at the same time. With the right hand I took out the pair of gloves, and with the left, what do you know? a pair of scissors I had never left on that table two or three weeks ago. My guess, just a memory from who knows when.  My sister asked “Do you ever use those pockets?”  I said no. It's the truth.

In retrospect, I was wearing the coat while I was looking for the scissors. For weeks, I wore that coat every day.

The lesson? Things just like to hide from you. And they laugh their hearts out because you are too stupid to find them.

Too much thinking

It is 6 a.m. and I am angry. Haven’t slept properly in two days. Some sort of headache and a touch of fever. And a lot of thoughts that won't give me peace. But mostly the headache.  Perhaps the cold has finally got me. Perhaps it is because I should spend more time outside in the fresh, albeit freezing, air. Could be something else entirely. I am thinking I should do more exercising. Do stuff that involves using many muscles. That is the fate of people who prefer thinking over moving. So I am angry because it is cold and I have to get out of bed when I finally started to relax. Took me forever to fall asleep last night. I am angry at the phone because it did exactly what I, in a moment of lucidity, programmed it to do. It forced me to leave the warmth of my covers, get dressed and leave the house hours before any rays of light from the sun showed their face in my corner of the planet.

Mom urges me to hurry because I will miss the bus. I know I won't because it is only 6.08 and the bus never, ever comes before 6.30 a.m.. But mom is the kind of person who thinks being on time means arriving half an hour early. The practice rubs on me so I get fearful sometimes. What if the bus will come earlier. Just to spite me. Today, of all days, when I have to be on time and there are no other busses to take me there by 8.30. My fear is that it was so cold over night the driver will not be able to start the bus and won’t come at all. Coming late is no problem. It is better than not at all.

I close the front gate behind me and trudge down the road. The bus station is almost half a kilometer from my house. I must first reach the main road, that is 250 meters ( I know the exact distance because there’s 50 meters between two electricity poles, and I pass by 5 of them). Once I reach the main road I am safe, I can signal the bus to stop if I haven't reached the station.

A little bit down the road I hear an engine in the distance. I look towards the bus station. I haven't reached the trees, I can still see all the way there. A vehicle that looks like a bus slows down close to the station. It is white. My heart starts to pound. What am I gonna do if I miss it? How am I gonna get there by 8.30? I start to run, all this time thinking the bus is always red so why am I running? This could be another car. But why has it stopped in the bus station? I try to keep my mouth closed while running. Too cold outside. I really like my voice just the way it is and certainly do not miss a sore throat. I run, even after the bus-looking vehicle speeds in front of me, no chance in hell of catching it. My mind starts to process. What to do? What to do? I will wait until something comes, anything, that will take me to my dentist’s appointment, 48 kilometers west of my town, in the county capital. Why couldn’t I have chosen someone closer? We have a dentist in our town. That easy. Or, there is one in a neighboring town....  Well, wouldn’t be me if I took the easy road. (The real reason is that I wanted quality and from what I heard from patients of our local dentist, she was not for me.) Anyway, I run, I reach the main road and I am relieved, there are some people in the bus station which means the bus is yet to come.

It is still night. Snowed a bit. Not enough to protect the plants in the garden from frost. I like it all the same. It looks good in the bus’ headlights. I love travelling in the dark. It brings back interesting memories. A few years back, when I had to commute 80 kilometers almost every day from one town to another, most of the return home trips happened at night. I sometimes stood in a bus full of people for the duration of the ride , two hours, but I had my headphones on and none of it mattered. I had listened to many hours of The Once and Future King and loved every moment of it. There is something about that book that is just too good to be able to describe.

This time the bus was full but I had a seat of my own. I don’t remember the last time I had to stand on a trip. People do not travel as much as they used to on public transportation. They either have cars of don’t have the money.

I like travelling at night because it opens up my mind. I usually take to time to work out plot details from my stories. Sometimes, my mind just wonders off, depending on the music I have.  Can’t wonder of too far with Adele’s album because I cannot relate a personal experience with any of the songs. You know how it is sometimes, lyrics aren't always important. If the music makes you feel good, that is all that matters.

In any case, I was looking at the road ahead  as soon as the bus left the areas with public illumination and plunged into the heavy darkness of night I wondered what would it be like if zombies suddenly appeared on the road. (Six seasons on The Walking Dead can do that to a highly imaginative person.)  I could almost see them  being hit by the bus. I hope the driver will be able to keep his cool and move on.

Then, without warning I am thinking of ordering some bulbs for spring as soon as they become available. I saw a few rare lilies on a website. I must have them.  I always think about that. I will not stop until I order some.

But what if we are run over by zombies? What then? What will happen to my cats? (I don’t recall seeing any cats on TWD. I wonder why. Have they all died? Are they in hiding?)

I arrive in town around 7.40. Have time to go to the market and buy some winter gloves, the kind you can work with in the cold. They said it was gonna snow this week. Not much, but it will. I have time to take a town bus to the dentist. She sees me at 8.15. Finish by 8.50. It feels weird to have something in your mouth after so many months of getting used to without it. But it is good. I will go back in the spring for more work. It is good to take care of your teeth.

It is snowing in town. Also, there is this killer wind. Not powerful, just freezing. I have to get back to the market and get mom some kitchen towels. She insisted. Said she’ll kill me if I don’t get her a few. Buy a few bathroom towels for me as well. Cannot hurt and I like what I see.

I look at my phone. The shopping list is short but not from this part of the town. Must go back the way I came from the dentist. To do that, I must take a town bus again. To get to the bus station I must walk through the flowers market and make a shocking discovery. All they have on display are funeral decorations. I am thinking: many people die during winter. ‘Cause it’s too darn cold.

 

The rest of the story is boring. The next bus home, the same with which I came, is heading back at 1 p.m.. It is only 10.00 a.am.. I can get warm wondering through three supermarkets near the bus station. I can go through the shopping list then just relax.

An hour and a half later I call mom to tell her I am bored to death and very tired of pushing the cart around the supermarket. I ask her if she wants something else. To give me purpose for another 5 minutes. Then it is back to boredom.

I discover toys can be creepy.

 

I remember I want new dust bins. New energy for me. Soon to go away when I discover I don’t like any of the ones I see on display. Perhaps they don’t make them the way I want them anymore. I give up. I know a place that has a much bigger offer but I will not go there until close to spring. That is when they bring bulbs and new plants for me to buy. I have many interesting cacti from there.

On the road back, poor Adele sings to no one because I fall asleep and don’t remember hearing a few of the songs. It is good, I guess. I always feel better after a nap on the bus. I notice it snowed some more during my absence and I take a few pictures of the road that takes me home. I do it now because I know I will be too lazy to walk all the way here for a picture then go back. Though I should, it is good for one’s body. And what can be better than a stroll during winter? The air could not be cleaner. Maybe later.

 

Change of date

What is New Year’s exactly if not just a change of date. One day is December, the next is January, one day is a year, the next another. If we were to celebrate every change of date like we celebrate the coming of New Year… I do not want to imagine that. In fact, I cannot. Knowing what a big fuss is just one day like this, having 365 of them is my idea o f hell. I still do not understand, however, why are humans so interested in this particular day of the year.

 In my world, there are a bunch of traditions that need to be kept otherwise you will fall into the pit of despair, solitude, starvation and bankruptcy. You have to  - no, you MUST have on you dinner  table all sorts of foods and drinks, pork, fish, wines and other alcoholic beverages, sweets, and let’s not forget money and grapes.

I know one of my neighbors is obsessed about having grapes on the New Year’s dinner table otherwise his head will explode or something. I am pretty sure I saw him yesterday in a shop I was in buying some. Also yesterday, I saw way too many people pushing each other at the single man that came with fruits at the market. Poor guy was overwhelmed. But people need oranges, bananas, apples, and whatnot so the new year catches them with plenty of everything. It doesn’t matter the rest of the year they have very little of everything, if they  have these things now all will be fine. And here’s a question that is bothering me. If they are so into having fruit on New Year’s, why not plant an apple tree in their garden, and a grape vine that can be kept for longer periods of time? And pears, and quinces, and plums. I understand they can’t have orange trees, that is okay, but the rest  are easy to take care of. One apple tree can give a small family fruit for the whole winter. I know ‘cause we are a small family and we have at least 2 mature apple trees and who knows how many young fruit bearing trees that live in our Eastern European climate.

And the foods. Oh my, the foods. Must definitely have certain types of foods otherwise you risk starvation in the next year. One of the things that is sort of traditional in our country is something called Beouf Salad, loosely translated Beef salad. I think it comes from French.  My mom is making it right now, on the first day of 2016, not three days before New Year’s Eve like the rest of the world. It is the easiest thing in the world to prepare, albeit it takes a lot of time. Basically, take a bunch of potatoes, carrots, a can of precooked peas if you can’t make your own, a lot of pickled peppers and cucumbers, whole olives, boiled eggs for their white, boiled meat – we use any bird meat because you would never catch us eat beef, not even with a shotgun to our head. This year she boiled a Muscovy Drake. We had a few and he was rather mean to the chicken so he had to go. Fear not, she did not boil it alive, or whole. Bits and pieces.  Anyway, you take these ingredients, potatoes, carrots, meat, pickles, chop them up really small, mix with the peas, make sure there is no juice left in the pickles and peas, then you mix with mayo, put in the olives as they are and place everything on a large plate where you try to give it the shape of a cake. Cover all this with more mayo if you have enough, then ornate with pickled red pepperoni, the white from the boiled eggs, olives, and, my favorite, parsley leaves. (still had some in the garden and I decided, a few days ago, to pick it even if it was mighty cold outside, I could not feel my hands and one of my cats was in the mood to play and started attacking me. The look of surprise and content on Mom’s face this morning when I brought her the bag of parsley was priceless. Then she made me wash it and all the joy faded. – have you ever washed curly-leaved parsley? Ain’t fun. But it looks wonderful.

In any case the salad is delicious. We only make it at special occasions, not because we don’t like it, but because it takes a century to make it. The decorating takes a few decades alone.  I suspect I will soon be called to do it. Or not. I am thinking of letting her and my sister do the job this year. They always make me do it. Sometimes I insist I do it. It is so confusing. J

I suppose I could talk for hours about foods made for New Year’s. The problem is that, except this salad, we don’t follow the norm that much. Yes, mom likes to cook things, but, then again she does that year round, always making something more. You’d think she wants to fatten us up or something.

The holidays traditions for us are rather off the books. Just the fact that she is making the salad today would be frowned upon. Lucky her, no one except  us knows the secret. Mostly because the winter holidays for us are a private affair. Just the three of us. Nice and quiet. Without interference from the loud world outside. There is enough noise the rest of the year. My sister and I have made a tradition of our own. Don’t know when or why it started but, on every New Year’s Eve we stop doing what we are doing around midday and go watch a movie of our choice. During this movie, we enjoy the delicious eggplant salad and open up a bottle of very sweet wine I buy a month ahead to make sure we have at least one bottle available. (This year was particularly difficult to find. It is also a bit expensive, but worth it.) (The eggplant salad if made from our garden, when the eggplants are ready, we cook them on the stove as they are, peel off the burnt crust them freeze them until we need them. After they thaw completely, let the sticky juice out then chop the eggplants into a fine paste. Peel a few onions, raw, chop them as fine as you can and throw them in the mix with oil and some salt. When we take a portion on the plate we mix it with mayo. Serve with plenty of bread. )

To be honest, New Year’s Eve for us is a day like any other. Chicken and ducks need feeding, warm water and fresh straw. The cats were particularly needy and we let them in the house for a few hours. (We don’t normally allow the cats inside because mom doesn’t like them and because they are naughty.) The dog needs feeding; the coops need cleaning. Those sorts of things that need to be done every day of the year, with few variations depending on the season. However, we have these little traditions make the day a bit different. After all chores are done, we have another movie to watch that we make sure to end before midnight.  This year’s pick was Ant-Man, of all. It is a surprising choice because, when my sister learned they were going to make a movie with this title she immediately decided it was going to be the worst movie of all time. We were going to watch it anyway, because we watch all the Marvel movies – mostly because of me – and she had no choice. At the end of the movie, back in October, she decided it was brilliant and that we were going to watch it again on New Year’s Eve. So, yeah… there are happy endings to strange stories after all.  

Keeping with our nice and quiet holidays, we climbed the hill in our garden and watched the fireworks over the village. Not as many as last year but the ones closest were nice.

There is no reason to celebrate the coming of a new year, from my perspective, because it is nothing but another step towards us being older. And who’s to say it will be e a better year? Just because of all the wishes we say or text one another? People should remember that to actually produce a change for the better in their lives, they must work for it.  Nothing ever comes for free. Everything has a price and, when the time comes, we must be ready to pay it.

In the meantime, if we can squeeze a few moments of fun and good memories with the people closest to you, go for it. We can never know what is going to happen tomorrow. We might all freeze to death.

‘cause it’s damn cold outside.

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Here are a few of the Beouf salad decorations from previous years.