Što sam prvo kupila mojoj nerođenoj bebi? Majcu na pingvina " cool like daddy". Zatim malog sasvim malog cute zekota, i šuškalicu mačku.
Zatim knjige. Knjigu na engleski, pa naravno da če beba pričat odma dva jezika, knjigu sa velikim stršećim ljubičastim slonom, i mekanu priču za žvakanje u obliku svih morskih životinja.
Prvi dar za bebu, dala mi je londonska kuma. Maloga zekota. Brat, čak iz iste serije kao prvi zeko samo deblji s većim šapama. I dizajnerske bajke za bebe u bjelo za božić od Matje.
Teta barbara htjela nam je napraviti goblen ali nisam znala spol pa čeka da zna odrediti boje.
Sljedeće stvari koje su se nizale obojane su u sve mogučnosti, roze dude, i žute stvari na medvjediće, robica na plave rige , avione, te roze na točkice i cvjeće.
Zatim me uhvatilo ludilo kao nikada prije za sređivanje doma, ili gnjezdenja, kupila sam lampe i pune torbe dekoracija za bor , pa da, sada smo u tri, mora biti veseli bor, ima dovoljno šarenila da sljedeći božić beba gleda i čupa dekoracije.
Poslje toga uhvtilo me crtanje slika koje bi veselile nekog maloga. Prvo mali konj koji trći travom pod plavim nebom, konjić na točkice, a onda me je puklo crtati crno bijele ovce. Ma svi znate da to nisam do sada slikala. Hormoni definitivno utječu. Prestala sam čitati knjige sa zlim likovima i vješticama. A mladen je prestao pušiti kad dođe doma, i stavljati njemu inače najdraže uspavanke , emisije o ubijanju , i spajanju leševa po ulicamam miamia, tako da ukine nočne more koje iz tih emisija inače sljede,jer nesmim sad imati ružne snove .
Zatim sam u Šibeniku kupila kožu sa vunom janjeta da bebi bude toplo zimi u Zagrebu u kolicima, iako če se roditi u proljeće.
A nakon toga se beba pokazala. Prvi snimak koji pokažu doktori izgleda kao neka video igra iz osamdesetih. Nešto sivo, izpikelizirano, kao drago nam je ali nekuži se baš ništa.
A kada sam vidjela pravu sliku, super soničnu u detaljima kao nagrada čekanja za pregled 4 sata bez pregovaranja , doktor mi je za unapred dogvorenu jubilarnu frank kavu pokazao i spol. Ha neču vam reči. Ali nemogu opisati gušt što sam konačno vidjela glavu, i oči, i prstića deset, prstića kojie se miču, i rukice koje putuju gore dolje, i noge koje vrte u krug, i nožne prstiće. I tada sam shvatila da ono što me nekada zaboil je zapravo udarac nogom od ove male bebe. Javlja se.
Počela se javljati kada Mladen dođe kući. Očito raspozna glas. Mladen otvori vrata a ja dobijem nogom . Mladen nemože zbog toga bit sretniji. Zatim me tuče kada previše vježbam, kada plešem ili hodam očito i beba počme vrtit nogama, i tuče tuče dok ne legnem pa se smiri.
A što se tiče hrane. voli kisele kukumare. sir. maslo. med. kolače. torte od oraha. voli pršut i to masni kao što nikad nisma baš jela, i voli karote, obožave karote, i kupus, i stalno mi šalje snove o ribi na gradele. Jedino ne podnosi smrad pašticade, vinske kvasine, preferia junetinu juhi od bundeve, a kinesku spizu mrzi najviše od svega, čim pojedem nešto sa sojom iz kineskog restorana loše mi je. Ali svaki obid najviše voli zalit s domaćim sokom od jabuke. Zanima me hoče li uživati iste stvari i kada se rodi.
Trbuh je sad poprilično vidljiv svima. I teži, nemogu baš ležat na leđima. I ružno je nostit bilo kakve laštike preko trbuha, tute, gege, hulahope, sve stišće i tjera ič pišit. A da ne prićam o ređipetu. Ređipet postane neadekvatan čim se kupi. Jej konačno velike sise. Al bilo bi puno zgodnije biti u drugom stanju među plemenima amazone ili u vemenu hipija kada je bilo u redu šetati okolo sa kadenama od bobica i cvjeća za odjeću. Sljedeću trudnoću treba obavit kod Ivane i Tatjane u Mekisu, devet mjeseci u bikiniju.
Sada veliko pitanje nam visi nad glavama, dali da dopustimo da se beba rodi u Zagrebu ili da vozimo pred rođenje u Split ? Stric budući nikako ne dopušta da rodimo purgera, šta da dite govori Kaj i navija za Dinamo? I da svaku put kada dokumenti pitaju gdje si rođen mora sakrivati mjesto rođenja ko rođak Nal kojega je sudbina potrefila da ostaka života izostavlja ,Ljubljana? Ili da ko prika Mislav sa Bola mora cijeli život za rodno misto pisat Kenija, jer je rođeni afrikanac. Čak primjetno nešto od rodong mista prati mislava cijeli život, onaj afrički extra slow ritam fijake kojega ni jedan ne-afrički fijakar na svijetu nemože dobit. Šta če to bit ako nam se dite rodi purger? Oče li volit more ili če terorizirat sa bicikl om po bickilističkim stazama grada?
Sljedeći stavka naravno je ime. Sve u svemu kupila sam za Božić knjigu imena tako da imamo više izbora, kao vatroslav, boroslav, vjetromir. Mladenov Nono obećava ne pričati snama više ikad ako se dite ne zove po njemu. Mada je sina i unuka već nazva po sebi. Nona na drugu ruku tjera da ime bude po njenoj materi. Mladen cijeli život želi jedno jedino ime,ali pitanje je bili to odabrala ja. Moja mama preferira imena kao, Srna, Labud, Mjesec. Dok mi jedan brat savjetuje, ime Bob, a drugi Duško. A mladenovu mater nije briga ako bude muško. A Mladen se boji dati izbor meni jer sam imenovala mačka Mjauf a pasa Kupina.
Ma dosta razmišljanja. Moram nešto pojest hirto sada.
Saturday 29 December 2012
Tuesday 11 December 2012
The toes of change
Im painting my toes . Red of course. The toenails look like berries.
In fact this whole introduction could go that familiar way of many a summer photograph, of girl shoting the photo of her own feet fronting a beach sceene.
The problem with my very red toes is that one rather sticks out. The nail being a color more blackberry. And though I have layered the varnish generousley reaching the danger of it never drying and sticking to the stocking in a while, the dark shade portrudes.
We had awoken after the most tempestuous storm ever spent in a boat. Cowering fetus-shape in the cockpit beneath the most servile of masts offering its 30 meters above the water as a magnet to the vicious bolts of lightning aimed at us by Neptune all night. M smoked staring out at flash lit black horizon. I had resigned to die or become a shaman in the Peruvian tradition which befalls survivers of lighting, and fell asleep to the rock and roll of the sea. It felt like the end, The End.
However the sun rose out of its purple mountains in the east melting the clouds, and awoke us at dawn quite surprisingly whole, and hyperactive with life. I pinged on the elastic bikini straps and dove into the deep green waters and milliards of boubles .
With this new god given life we took the dinghy to Bol beach to celebrate with the various beach creatures who had started to crawl out of steaming straw huts, divers, surfers, with whom we had coffees, compared experiences,and than put on suits and air tanks to dive awhile in the magnificent 3d nemo land.
Having survived what seemed a something very extraordinary I had to get back to very ordinary and anti climatic routine of work on the island Hvar. M started the boat south and plinged off my bikini. Last bit of freedom between the contents. The boat was put on auto pilot. Luxurious sun and wind in the hair.
As we neared the little islands infornt of Jelsa I sat at the kern and dragged the feet in the sea. The surface was slippy and the foot slid into a square of metal above the propeller. The pain felt in the little toe was so intense I cried. Months later the toenail is still bruised like a blackberry. Its snowing outside. The roofs are covered with thick creamy white. I have a round belly and two hearts beating inside.
Quite a different stage setting. I suppose the black toe and the night of the storm mark es the begging of the ultimate change. Well the nine months of gradual change. Of home, of interests, of name too. And by the time, the postmodern wedding is over and baby is in the air, the toe nail would have gown out. They will be all red again.
In fact this whole introduction could go that familiar way of many a summer photograph, of girl shoting the photo of her own feet fronting a beach sceene.
The problem with my very red toes is that one rather sticks out. The nail being a color more blackberry. And though I have layered the varnish generousley reaching the danger of it never drying and sticking to the stocking in a while, the dark shade portrudes.
We had awoken after the most tempestuous storm ever spent in a boat. Cowering fetus-shape in the cockpit beneath the most servile of masts offering its 30 meters above the water as a magnet to the vicious bolts of lightning aimed at us by Neptune all night. M smoked staring out at flash lit black horizon. I had resigned to die or become a shaman in the Peruvian tradition which befalls survivers of lighting, and fell asleep to the rock and roll of the sea. It felt like the end, The End.
However the sun rose out of its purple mountains in the east melting the clouds, and awoke us at dawn quite surprisingly whole, and hyperactive with life. I pinged on the elastic bikini straps and dove into the deep green waters and milliards of boubles .
With this new god given life we took the dinghy to Bol beach to celebrate with the various beach creatures who had started to crawl out of steaming straw huts, divers, surfers, with whom we had coffees, compared experiences,and than put on suits and air tanks to dive awhile in the magnificent 3d nemo land.
Having survived what seemed a something very extraordinary I had to get back to very ordinary and anti climatic routine of work on the island Hvar. M started the boat south and plinged off my bikini. Last bit of freedom between the contents. The boat was put on auto pilot. Luxurious sun and wind in the hair.
As we neared the little islands infornt of Jelsa I sat at the kern and dragged the feet in the sea. The surface was slippy and the foot slid into a square of metal above the propeller. The pain felt in the little toe was so intense I cried. Months later the toenail is still bruised like a blackberry. Its snowing outside. The roofs are covered with thick creamy white. I have a round belly and two hearts beating inside.
Quite a different stage setting. I suppose the black toe and the night of the storm mark es the begging of the ultimate change. Well the nine months of gradual change. Of home, of interests, of name too. And by the time, the postmodern wedding is over and baby is in the air, the toe nail would have gown out. They will be all red again.
Wednesday 5 December 2012
The christmass mood.
When sorrounded by people unsidposed to the festive spirit of the season one can always resort to tirckery to get them in to it.
1.Buy them a christmass tree. 2.Or if you share a house with somone who doesen't want the christmass tree, seduce them or bully them with their own logic until they give in or get tired of resiting.
Needless to say my christmass tree is up, earlier than ever. I recieved it instead of roses for my birthday tomorow. Also becouse I had bought so many decorations in London last week, I actualy had to hide two bags of it under my coat as not to show them to the air tikets control lady who certanly whould have charged me had she noticed I intended to push 3 bags over the premited one on to the plane. Thus once the bags where opened at the home end forcasting a sceen like an exploded father-christmass factory, with shiney multy colored baulbals, raindeer, snowmen and candysticks all over the place, it became clear the only way to get the house in order was to get the tree.
It looks lovley. Deffinatley did not go for the cool shop window look in meonochrome. Multy colured happyness remeniscant of childhood and the variaty of colures and shapes consiquent to annual breaking of the irresistable glass things by self, brothers or cat.
The only problem with this tree is that the potted thing is not releasinng the enchanting christmas forest smells. Not sure if its becosue it is in a pot and so not dying, or becosue the Hollandease who produced it grew it earth free in water and chemichals like they do tomatoes in their surge to destory all flavour and scent given by nature. Note. Will have to sprinkle the tree with the christmass tree water i distiled from last years local branches.
3. To get people in the festive mood festive alcohol and a few visuals can do. Leaving Ninas house I left a Christmass card and a bottle of port and suddnely the 9 other inhabbitans where talking christmass and dreaming mothers cooking in cosy saftey of home away from the london biting for survival.
4. Mulled vine does the same trick.
5. Lynsey taking about wanting her mom to knit a giant christmass pudding jumper, inspired me to buy a raindeer one and all sort of merry socks which by wearing inconspicuousley gets people around self in a chain reaction of simmilar mood.
6: Aunty babrara decided to stage a christmass dinner for my last night in lichfield with all the british trims, coliflour chease, stuffing, cranberry jelly, sausages in coats, and turkey in november. Everything tasted so magical that i even devoured with relish the sprouts and parsnip i clearley remember not likeing before. So as you see its not entirley my fault for getting the contageous bug and carrying it several thousant airmiles to Zagreb where no one seems to be in the chrsitmass mood yet.
Though it did snow for the first time last night. And it is the day of Saint Nicholas tomorow. And thoguh everyone will get a present in a sock under their pillow here, its my birthday and so am very excited.
Will make a delicious dinner , play the martini in the morning radio which at this time djs notting but seasonal classics, and will get everyone in the chrsitmas mojo. Mmm.
The house all ready smells of baking stars .
1.Buy them a christmass tree. 2.Or if you share a house with somone who doesen't want the christmass tree, seduce them or bully them with their own logic until they give in or get tired of resiting.
Needless to say my christmass tree is up, earlier than ever. I recieved it instead of roses for my birthday tomorow. Also becouse I had bought so many decorations in London last week, I actualy had to hide two bags of it under my coat as not to show them to the air tikets control lady who certanly whould have charged me had she noticed I intended to push 3 bags over the premited one on to the plane. Thus once the bags where opened at the home end forcasting a sceen like an exploded father-christmass factory, with shiney multy colored baulbals, raindeer, snowmen and candysticks all over the place, it became clear the only way to get the house in order was to get the tree.
It looks lovley. Deffinatley did not go for the cool shop window look in meonochrome. Multy colured happyness remeniscant of childhood and the variaty of colures and shapes consiquent to annual breaking of the irresistable glass things by self, brothers or cat.
The only problem with this tree is that the potted thing is not releasinng the enchanting christmas forest smells. Not sure if its becosue it is in a pot and so not dying, or becosue the Hollandease who produced it grew it earth free in water and chemichals like they do tomatoes in their surge to destory all flavour and scent given by nature. Note. Will have to sprinkle the tree with the christmass tree water i distiled from last years local branches.
3. To get people in the festive mood festive alcohol and a few visuals can do. Leaving Ninas house I left a Christmass card and a bottle of port and suddnely the 9 other inhabbitans where talking christmass and dreaming mothers cooking in cosy saftey of home away from the london biting for survival.
4. Mulled vine does the same trick.
5. Lynsey taking about wanting her mom to knit a giant christmass pudding jumper, inspired me to buy a raindeer one and all sort of merry socks which by wearing inconspicuousley gets people around self in a chain reaction of simmilar mood.
6: Aunty babrara decided to stage a christmass dinner for my last night in lichfield with all the british trims, coliflour chease, stuffing, cranberry jelly, sausages in coats, and turkey in november. Everything tasted so magical that i even devoured with relish the sprouts and parsnip i clearley remember not likeing before. So as you see its not entirley my fault for getting the contageous bug and carrying it several thousant airmiles to Zagreb where no one seems to be in the chrsitmass mood yet.
Though it did snow for the first time last night. And it is the day of Saint Nicholas tomorow. And thoguh everyone will get a present in a sock under their pillow here, its my birthday and so am very excited.
Will make a delicious dinner , play the martini in the morning radio which at this time djs notting but seasonal classics, and will get everyone in the chrsitmas mojo. Mmm.
The house all ready smells of baking stars .
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