The poo in a bag

If you live in a town or city, you must have at some point encountered this phenomenon.

The poo in a bag.
Literarlley.


They can be found all over  town. -its not the kind of thing one seeks out, but you must have noticed them from time to time, right? The small plastic bag, the big knot, or open bag, randomly, anywhere.. Who does that? Who has the desire to go about doing such a thing? To achieve for such a thing to be widely  enough spread  to become a phenomenon, to be spread out trough out the  parks, dangling from the bushes,  threatening above from the trees and below from the pavement.. One has to undergo a whole disgusting preparatory process of placing the poo into a bag first..

The process consists of more or less this . People have a dog,  the dog defecates on the pavement, the owner with a bag ready in their pocket, feels up, and squishes the poo about until they get it into the bag. They must feel an urge to vomit by than. However they have disciplined them self, despite instincts which urge them to run away as far as they can from the scene, to undergo the process, because of civilisation, cleanliness, hygiene, all valid enough reasons ..

But than why the fuck do they leave it about in town?

Every so often my son spots such a bag, and as happy as a cub-fox upon discovering an unusual scent, he asks, mummy what is inside? And is stunned at my yelling, DON'T TOUCH THAT. He had never opened one of these, but the nasty colour emerging trough the bag, the consistency and lack of form, are evidence enough of that being a DOG SURPRISE . Its not enough that people leave the dung in the parks, but they feel an irresistible urge to drop their poo bags on the main street, the Riviera, and so forth.

How do these bags end up on the streets?
I'm imagining a situation..Girl takes dog out of the apartment to go to the toilet, she carries a  bag, collects the filth, replaces the knotted up bag into her pocket.. When on the horizon she sees the guy she has a crush on. Out of nervousness she squishes and moulds the dog poo in her pocket, as if it where a stress ball. The boy nears, says hello, whilst the girl is still holding the poo in her hand, which unnoticed  has found its way out of her pocket. He stops, smiles at her, starts a conversation, than notices that she is crunching up something in her hand.. He asks what is that? The dog owner uncomfortably perspires and changes her facial colour to the red colour of shame, than as if scolded by it-launches the dog poo bag out of her hand as far away as she can, onto the street, and automatically kicks the dog who is to blame, up the arse.

The guy, astounded, does not understand, and walks on without asking the girl on a date.

And this most likely how the streets are piling up with bags of dog shit, probably all due to failed romance..

Govno u kesi

Ako živite u gradu, mora de ste kad tad naletjeli na ovaj fenomen.

Govno u kesi.
Doslovno.

Ima ih po gradu svudgdije . Ne da inače bi itko išao za tim, ali mora da ste ih i vi vidjeli posvuda. Mala kesa, veliki čvor, ili pak kesa s otvorenim čvorom randomly bilo gdje. .. Tko to radi? Kome se uopće da? Za postići da se tako nešto pretvori u fenomen, da se rasprši po parkovima, visi u grmlju sa grana, prijeti odozgo sa stabala, slučajno se nalazi po ulicama, mora proći cijeli jedan gadljivi pred proces stavljanja tog govanceta u kesu.

Proces od prilike ide ovako, ljudi imaju psa, pas kaka po ulici, ljudi s kesicom spremnom u džepu, rukom prevrču I mljckaju s tim govnom dok ono nije u kesi. Sigurno im se digao želudac. Ali navikli su sami sebe unatoč svim instinktima da bježe što dalje,  da to rade, adje zbog civilizacije, I čistoće, priznajem sve to..

Ali zašto onda to ostavit u gradu?

Svako malo negdje neočekivano sin mi vidi jednu takvu, kesu, I radosno, kao mali lisac koji je nanjušio zanimljiv vonj, pita mama šta je unutra. A ja samo dreknem NE DIRAJ TO. Nije to on nikada otvorio, ali vidi se po konsistenciji, boji kese, I manjku forme, da je unutra Pasije iznenađenje . Nije dovoljno da ljudi ostavljaju đubre po parkovima, već moraju iskrcavati svoje kesice govanaca na glavnoj ulici, rivi, I slično.

Kako se uopće dogodi da te kese završe u svijetu? Zamišljam situaciju..

Cura izvede pasa pred zgradu da obavi wc, uzme kesicu, skupi prljavštinu, stavi zagropanu kesicu u  džep, kada na horizontu uoči simpatiju, od nervoze u džepu gnjeći drek , kao stress lopticu, on se približi , javi joj se , a ona i dalje u ruci drži govance, samo što više nije u džepu..Momak stane, nasmiješi joj se, popriča i u jednom trenutku primjeti da ona nešto u ruci  gužva.. Šta ti je to, on pita.. A vlasnicu psa oblije znoj i crvena boja srama, ispali govno u kesi iz ruku na ulicu, I automatski opali psa nogom u guzicu..
A tip začuđen, ne razumi ništa, odšeta dalje bez želje da ju upita na dejt..  I tako se gomilaju kesice govana po gradu Splitu, očito sve zbog propale romantike..

Kidnaped by astrophysicists

Wearing my explorer on holiday outfit,  I walked across the island bus station, when I heard my name, exclaimed from the bus drivers bar accompanied with a hand wave..
Having peered into the shadows of the bar ,intermingled among the drivers and the islanders, interchanging  alcoholic vapours,  unexpectedly sat a bunch of astrophysicists.

I am referring to the scientists who research space, and theorise, living with their own beliefs of how our planet and life, came to be, and where humanity is  heading, according to discoveries they make about the stars.

One is my age long friend, the Surfer, who uses his science research on the island as an excuse to surf all year. One by one other familiar faces emerged out of smoke clouds and memory from by gone years.. Oh yes the professor, I believe I know him.. Than oh, that man, who looks and acts like Mr Bean and goes everywhere with his rucksack in hand, and can never put it down, yes he is familiar too, and there was a whole bunch more.

It was unusual that they where in town at all- instead of being isolated up in their mountain institute, unusual that  there was such a great number of them on the same place- they had driven the bus and taxi drivers into a corner, and it was unusual because there was so much alcohol!  I had prejudices which did not mix scientists and alcohol- which where corrected- as I was offered a glass of vine, though sun had barley struck mid day..

The mix and match of old, round, young, wide ,thin, absurdly strong, among the bunch of men, had met for the purpose of producing a science festival in the town of Hvar. A plausible enough reason for them to all descend from their mountain in the sky. Though I had come to the island to have a relaxing girls weekend with Nađa, their immediate rustle of science feathers, lecture plans and titles, time tables, and spluttering enthusiasm made it impossible for my to object to attending their festival- which happened to be unavoidably next to my hotel.

I had always been interested in stars, and had drawn astrological birth charts in my teenage years . But the idea that I might also be crazy about astronomy- which I believed I had all the potential to be- was extinguished a decade ago during a tour of the isles, by the surfer  who insisted on star gazing trough the telescope for entire nights, bribing me to stay awake by offering my to eat chocolate spread with a spoon, -a delight, he forbade the rest of the time.  Though the project of my learning to recognise the stars I took up with great enthusiasm, the reality of the stars trough the telescope being only slightly bigger than they are to the real eye, lacking explosions, aliens or colour, made them after a while produce the effect of the counting of sheep, the here is another star -just made me go to sleep.

There was time before the commencement of the long awaited girls night, so I showered, dressed, and peeped into the science festival. I think it was the dress, that did it.. Having spent weeks living alone on the top of the mountain, the male scientists encountered a female of the species, wearing a dress, at their very own presentation, and than united -almost all as one and one for all , they extracted me out of my previous plans with Nađa, and engulfed me into an astronomical weekend!

One scientist objected at female company. At the end of his lecture, he went as far as  asking teenage science enthusiasts, whether they where interested in Women, or Football, than having deuced a negative answer- he conformed to all the geek cliche's- and told the boys that their answers promise that they will be good scientists one day! The chap was not what one would expect a scientist to look like, being enormously tall and exceedingly strong, as when he is not studying stars, he spends his time weight lifting nothing less than trucks! Lluckily he had to go bed at 200 hours, so freed us from his antisocial company.

Following the lectures, astrophysicists pulled me to join them for dinner, and from there to the telescopes, where children where fighting to get a glimpse of Jupiter and its moons. The night evolved into a  girls and scientists night about town where the assumption that scientist do not drink was corrected to scientists drink large quantities frequently and could be even referred to as alcoholics.

Having not been convinced of continuing the night and observing sunrise from their observatory. The next omrning I was shocked that surfer man was awake- contrary to his custom, with instructions form professor, of  bringing me up to the institute.

The institute in which the scientists live and work is an old castle up on the mountain above town, built by the French during the Napoleon's short reign of the island, and used today by the scientists I have here introduced you to, as an astronomical observatory, for studying the changes upon the surface of the Sun, and to research the connection of how the activity on the Sun alters the weather on earth. The location is magnificent with wievs of the sea and fantastic landscapes from the castle- which stands strong in untouched nature, amid scented flowers, herbs, and wildlife, completely isolated.

Writing an article about the festival on their coputer, I encounterd the truck lifter scientist- who seeing a female in the institution assumed I had come for the purpose of cooking for them, and was highly offended to deduct that I had no motives not cook to feed his ginormous muscles, and thus told me I shall therefor not be entitled to eat.  He was later made to feel ashamed by someone- for had he had even offered a recompense hand to- air-shake mine- real touching would have provided too much possibility for germ exchange and human contact.

Having spent a 24 hours with scientists, I was struck by the realisation of how much alike artists they are. The Astra-physicists live dedicating their lives to tedious research, working often on pure enthusiasm for double the hours of normal jobs, and their projects lack financial benefits other occupations seem to provide, but they work for a great propose and believe that their work will benefit humanity-  despite being often misunderstood, and regarded as strange by the very humanity who are intended to benefit from their work.

Never the less truths is they are  a bit strange.. The fact that the scientists are so engrossed in their scientific work, means they do not notice trivia, like fashion, and so live dressed displaying this attitude. Not to mention that they spend most of their waking hours, working on their research, closed up within scientific institutes, loosing track of weather it is day or night, weather they have eaten or drunk anything, or too much.. They work separated  from common society by the walls of the institutes, where understood among their own kind they do not have to fret about any thing trivial, including trivial social behaviour- so they tend to forget how to behave once on the outside .  Inside they are safe living within a hierarchy based on scientific achievement, quantity of scientific papers published, and research. Outside of their institutes when encountered by someone who does not know of their work, and reasons for their odd behaviour- to them scientist just appear are weird.

For the whole moring, barr the truck man, I was treated like royalty by all the scientists who where happy to have a guest inside in their world, and the beautiful institute. As a result I have concluded that I must return to the observatory to realise an "Art & science" project with them. This also being the title of the science festival during the weekend.  We could give one another's work a different angle- my work in this project could get-some of their intention and purpose for doing something useful for humanity-whilst to their work I would give expression outside the institute,bring it out, translate it so it is understood and available to a wider public, without loosing purpose.

The paradise salsa- recepie

It would be a shame that only I in the world try this ..Seeing it turned out so good for me today. So here it goes readers- anyone who is a tomato fan will love this.

To make this paradise salsa (eaten as a dish hot with pasta, gnochi,  as a side dish to things with palenta, meat,  or cold as a dip)
You need 600g onions, Half of a whole garlick, a teaspoon fresh origano leaves, 3 bay leaves, a hand full of fresh tomato plant leaves if you can find them (garden centre better than super market), olive oil, 3 cans of chopped tomatoes, half a giant red bell pepper or a smaller pepper whole, a carrot- middle size, salt and a teaspoon of sugar or honey.

Heat up a generous drizzle of olive oil in a large saucepan- (covering two thirds of the pan with oil. )
. Add diced onions to hot oil and stir, throw in all the herbs to allow them to fry and infuse the flavours into the oil.
Chop the red pepper into small cubes, throw into the pan, add carrots peeled and chopped, in to the mixture as well as chopped garlick. Salt the vegetabbles to allow for their juices to leave and break up their crunchyness.

When all the veg have softened up on the oil , pour into the mixture the 3 cans of chopped tomatoes, stir, and than add 3 cans of tap water.. Bring up to boil and than turn the heat down to the lowest setting- I have a gas stove so-I even put the pan on to a smaller hob, and turn the heat to low. You than allow the mixture to simmer slowly for 2.5. hours.. Stirring occasionaly  and adding cups of water so that it is not to thick- (which would make it stick to the bottom and burn).. At the end of the 2 cooking hours you allow all water to evaporate, to produce a thick consistence fabulous sauce.  Add salt- and or the tea spoon of sugar or honey if the sauce is too sour. (the type of canned tomatoes are more or less sour. )
You can make the same sauce with fresh tomatoes, repace thr 3 cans with aobut a kilo of tomatoes, and if you have the patience peel them- or simply chop them, - This version  will take less time to cook, it will taste quite different- fresher- but maybe not as stodgy and delicious!

I have just eaten two teacups of the still hot sauce with a teaspoon- burned my mouth, but it was well worth it- its delicious.  b

Salsa

Tomatoe salsa=paradise
I can imagine my self in a pool filled with salsa, reclined upon a palenta floating bed, as I slowly float though the salsa, licking salsa off the fingers, knees, devouring it with a spoon or diving trough it mouth open.. Needless to say I have just cooked up such a salsa, which has infused the house with such a mouth watering scent, and is of such iresistable flavour, that a pool would be the most appropriate dish to experience my salsa. .


Šalša= Raj od pome.
Mogu se zamislit u bazenu od šalše s dušekom od pure, kako lagano plutam i ližem šalšu sa prstiju, kolina, žlicom i roneći kroz šalšu. Bez potrebe je da spomenim da sam upravo skuvala jednu šalšu toliko mirisnu, toliko uksunu, da bi bazen bio najbolja posuda za doživjeti tu moju šalšu...

Festival Znanosti Hvar - Autor Sunčica Kuzmanić

Festival znanosti 2016. u Hvaru

Hvarska Euforija  za znanošću. 

Od 21. do 23. Travnja organiziran je festival znanosti u Gradu Hvaru, a ove godine tema festivala bila je «Znanost i umjetnost».  Festival su zajedno organizirali Opservatorij Hvar i Osnovne škole Hvar, Stari Grad, Jelsa, te Arheološki muzej Zagreb.

Mladi otočani i učenici entuzijastično su popratili radionice iz fizike, kemije, biologije i astronomije te znanstvena predavanja poput «Nastanak evolucija i zvijezda». Djeca su sudjelovala u diskursu sa poznatim Hrvatskim znanstvenicima postavljajući pitanja i dijeleći zanimljive opservacije. Tokom predavanja «Pogled na Sunce sa sunčanoga Hvara», djeca su upoznata sa aktualnim radom astrofizičara u opservatoriju Hvar. Kasno u noć čekali su red za pogledati kroz teleskop na gradskoj rivi, kako bi vidjeli planet Jupiter i Mjesec. Oduševljeni su sudjelovali u svim radionicama i praktičnim aktivnostima. 

Tokom festivala djeci je predstavljen pilot projekt Srednje Škole Hvar, koji će započeti sljedeće školske godine. Naime škola će omogućiti zainteresiranima da pohađaju nove izborne znanstvene predmete, «Geoinformatika, Solarna astronomija, i botanika mediteranskih kultura» van uobičajenog školskog kurikuluma. Iako ti predmeti neće biti  obvezni, učenicima će omogućiti šire znanje o određenim modernim tehnologijama koje će konačno povećati njihove mogućnosti na tržištu rada. Kada su bili pitani tko od prisutnih srednjoškolaca bi rado upisao dodatne predmete sljedeću jesen, sva djeca su podignula ruku.  

U Rujnu 2016, kao i svake dvije godine, u gradu Hvaru održava se međunarodni znanstveni simpozij «Hvar Astrophysics Colloquium» koji privlači brojne znanstvenike iz cijelog svijeta.

Zapravo nije ni iznenađujuće što odrastajući u takvom okruženju velik broj djece sa otoka Hvara, upravo se opredjeljuju za daljnje studije prirodnih znanosti, te postaju i sami znanstvenici. Profesorica srednje škole Hvar primijetila je kako, «pola prošlogodišnje generacije studenata su u upisali upravo znanstvene fakultete. Kroz povijest ovaj otok je porodio velike znanstvenike poput arheologa Grge Novaka i Nikše Petrića, izumitelja daktiloskopa Ivana Vučetića, a također na Hvarskom Opservatroriju je radio velik broj prominentnih astrofizičara.

Popularnost festivala znanosti među djecom vjerojatno utječe i popularna humoristička serija «Veliki prasak». Svakako djeca su radosno prisustvovala festivalu, te moguće je da među mladim Hvaranima već sada postoje neki veliki znanstveni umovi budućnosti, koje samo treba nastaviti poticati sa festivalima i događanjima poput Festivala Znanosti. 

Park Club, The Island's -Morning Bar from heaven

I stumbled out of the hotel, showered, teeth brushed, make up removed, but still a bit drunk from the previous night, into my favorite bar- Park club.
Its the ideal morning bar, dark, low lights, easy music, soft chairs. A perfect location for proper way to wake up on the island, slowly and without pressure.

I sat at the bar- and was as surprised as she- to run into another squeaky clean and a bit drunk accomplice form the night before.

As my bottom hit the bar stool- in front of us, two plates with freshly cooked eggs appeared- exactly what a hang over needs- as proved medically. Than the lovely bar man - remembered that I like a latte and brewed one .. After which he lifted up a pineapple and strawberries and asked- does a pineapple honey strawberry juice suit? He proceeded to make a smoothie. After all of this a miraculous plate of croissants appeared betwixt me and the accomplice. Good god. There is a god right? I mean how did all this happen in this instant, without any premeditation. As they say -catch a the fortune by the tail..

I continued to sit, after the surprise breakfast in the company of the bar man . Between us stood the long wooden bar, and his apron. His apron is important he said. When he wears it - he can talk to any one- he has this loud welcoming personality, but when he takes it off- he becomes timid, he is shy, and finds it had to start conversation with strangers- the opposite of what he does at work, protected by the apron and the bar.

A man approached, " A small coffee with a little milk " , he pronounced significantly. "Ah these people " the bar man said, "They all expect me to remember how they like their coffee, each and every single one of them, and they are so offended when I forget. They come in, say good morning, they never reply to the question how are you, they just sit and wait. They wait for their coffee. The funny thing is I  know all the coffees of all the locals, but for some reason every single day, I always forget one person's coffee. I remember every single coffee, except for one. Every day."

"
"Yesterday I forgot that man's coffee. I brought out all of their coffees except for his, and than he was upset. Can't you remember a simple coffee he asked. And I replied- do you think I go home and all I think about is the way you and all those people who come here drink you coffee, do you think that is all I do in life?
Your role is to tell me what coffee is it that you would like, and it is my job to provide you with one. It simple really, isnt it? That's why he got up this morning to tell me about his coffee- sarcastically. But todayI remember what he drinks-  only I forgot what someone else drinks. And its like this every day."

I was thinking about writing an article about the Hvar science festival my friends had organised  or going to paint, but could not decide on which activity to concentrate, or upon which location, when he lovely bar man -says " See there is a computer- you can use for writing in the bar-- As for painting I think the best thing for you in this rainy weather is to go to the top of that hotel, wich has an awning and a panorama of  the whole town and sea shore, order another coffee, enjoy life and paint from there."

Can you belive this man exists? The perfect bar man from heaven,. Bar man angel me thinks. And what a bar, what service... Ah you all, if you ever need love and comfort on the island of Hvar.. Now you know where you should head, its called the Park Club, bar. ..

Hitch hiking the island cops

Having rushed to the bust stop to make it for 16.30 to catch the only bus to the south side of the island, I was smacked on the head by insurmountable heat,  and the slow fusion of  relisation which was entering my brain first as a possibility, than as a probability, and eventually as a good enough reason to panic.
There was no, bus leaving the north side of the island for the south, the time of year is wrong for there to be buses. It still not the tourist season, therefor there are no more buses after the ferry leaves the island. Whoops. Why is it always so darn hot at this bus stop. ?

 I stood a while just to catch my breath, and than decided I will catch any bus - if there are any buses going anywhere. As the decision fell, a mini bus turned up. I recognized the driver form working years ago on the island- hopped on and to make conversation joyfully asked about his lady wife..

He spurted out what is it that you know about my wife.?. Surprised by the tone of the usually friendly  driver from the north - I replied " Well I remember you telling me about your darling lady wife whom you fell in love with and who was the reason for your coming to live on the island." "Well we had divorced "- the man replies- " Now she has become a bus driver- the only woman bus driver in Croatia- and she works for my old company in the main land- she drives those big proper buses I used to drive before I had met her".. . Right, I have put a foot in it a bit  realized,  and having reached the main road out of Stari Grad, I jump out of the mini bus leaving the bus driver  grumbling about his tragic love

At the road side I observed the wild flowers, new species which I had not noticed before and cocnluded that it is a good thing after all, that I recharged the camera battery , as this would be good time to study indigenous sorts of flowers growing in Hvar. I will most probably be obliged to  walk all those miles across the island, whilst be looking at the road, thus can study the flora at the same time. Its probably the only time to do this in my life, a real chance actually , the being stuck here.

However before opening up the rucksack to are reaching for  the camera- I just sort of - without thinking, put  my thumb up in the air over the road. It was the  survival instinct I suppose which made me do it. I mean other than that crazy German grandma who I had met on the mountain this morning, who in their right minds walks across such a huge island?

My thumb just went up, when a patrol police car passed by. Whoops I thought and pulled my hand down, trying to looks as inconspicuous and as least tourist attempting to stop a ride as possible -with a huge ruck sack on my back and an English straw hat. Hitch hiking  is illegal- the police could have  given me a fine.

 The cops cruised by, and my thumb went right back up. Two man in a van saw me and stopped. They opened their doors and produced big inviting smiles which welcomed me in.  Several miles later at  the island ferry port,  the lads let me get on with my life on the road.

Standing at the road side once again I lifted my hand, the ferry port was the last civilized stop before many miles of wilderness, and darkness, and tunnel and who knows what else one encounters walking across the island when sun sets.

The cops I had seen  earlier, drove up again wearing  Italian cop glasses, and stern unsmiling faces, the police car stopped at the road crossing,  both looked over smugly at me, and one of them cleared up the back seat of the police car. He than cranked a back door ajar- and stared at me waiting. I understood this as an invitation- and jumped into the police car.

Having explained my lack of bus- surprise- predicament , I continued to chatter. The sternness of the policemen's faces was a bit of a challenge. I had a need to make them smile or talk, stop looking like high school bullies.

The wider and older of the two police men with a black mustache welcomed someone other than his younger , thinner and apparantly silent partner . I discovered that he was originally from Split, the other from Solin, and being myself from Kastela- bemused the police man who said we make a nice triangle. He had moved to the island for the love of a woman- who had left him, who had than left the island too. I commented how it was a common fate to many a man on that island- and re told the story of the bus driver.
The police man asked- if that bus driver is slightly over weight and usually red in the face, offering the name Marjan? I confirmed yes, that is exactly the bus driver who had driven me earlier.

Having expressed gratitude for the police men saving me and taking me to the city of Hvar- I mentioned the meeting of  an odd German grandma waking across the island up in the mountains earlier that day. The mustached cop, asked was the lady slightly hunch back and short? I wasn't sure about hunchback. I offered another description of the lady, white hair? The police man confirmed- yes, that 70 year old woman walks the island up and down all year long.

You know every one on the island..? I teased bemused slightly. The mustache answered - well if you are a good police man- you do know every thing about every one- its your job to know everything- a good cop- is a good spy..

We had passed the tunnel form the north to the south of the island, and I kept the chatter flowing.. What is the most problematic town on the island, for making trouble.. ? The cop asked do you mean drunk weekend trouble or other trouble? -The most trouble of any kind. -Yelsa - everything happens in Jelsa he concluded. As soon as the tourist season is over- as soon October hits- the phone calls start coming in, " He has destroyed a wall of my vineyard, he had pulled down a part of the fence, he is stealing my olives". During the tourist season they keep quiet- there isn't a single phone call from the locals- not a single crime- and than when the winter starts the phone calls don't stop coming in. The islanders get bored, they don't have anything better to do- other than stir trouble for their neighbors. "

"Does this mean than you are on holiday during the summer- if no one calls.. ?""Oh no no," laughs the big cop, "Its very busy in the summer.. There are the tourists to take care of.. And they get up to all sorts of activities. The people coming in are all sorts , from every where, including the mafia..".

Oh,.Well it gets interesting than..Oh yes says the cop.. Where shall we drop you off in town,? Where are you going exactley..? The cop curiosity started to appear..He offered  three  posibilities- as he where driving  a taxy. Having firgured out that he is an addict to information- and that during this whole ride - he had not found out my name- I decide to give him a bit of information, so he can categorise me in some way, store me up in his spy brain. Im staying on the other side of the piazza at my cousins, at the park hotel. His moustache twiched as he processed the information , than he smiled and said, thank you for riding with us -in future find us- any time you need a ride..

Traži se dadilja

Treba mi jedna dailja, za ovo ljeto, iznova.
Koja će obožavaati moje djete i bit vesela. Ali koja će voditi i red.
Dadilja koja je prikladna neka sleti niz dimljak odmah, nek je donese kišobran na balkon , postoji čak i soba za dadilju.

Pitala me je profesionalna dadilja da napišem nešto o dadiljama. Da ljudi koji to pročitaju možda skuže i pređu preko predrasuda o dadiljama i shvate koliko je dobro za djete i majku imati dadilju.
Stvarno je.
Teško se je odvojiti od malenog djeteta, I majci i djetetu. Dadilja omogučava majci da se odvoji od djeteta na dogovoreno vrijeme, ali ipak majak ostavlja djete s komodom vlastitog doma, djetetovog vlastitog kreveta, svega poznatoga. Djete dobiva kompletnu pažnju jedne odrasle osobe,koja brine o isključivo o njegovom potrebama. Ovo je odlična zamjena za majku- kada dođe do potrebnog odvajanja- a ipak nije šok sistemu djeteta kao vrtić- gdje je djete ukrcan s puno malih, potrebitih- nerazumljenih stvorenja I jednom ili dvije tete  da se izbore sa svima. Dadila je način da majka bude sretna, da zna gdje se djete nalazi, da se može sasvim opustiti, bez straha da če djete se razboliti kao što se stalno razboljeva u vrtiću. Uz to dadilja je odlična prilika da djete provede što više vremena vani na zraku, da raste, da razvija mišiće  te da se druži s drugom djecom.


U parkiću među djecom koja ne idu u vrtić, nalaze se raznovsne dadilje.


Postoje dadilje babe. - to su babe- koje čuvaju djecu vjastite djece. Takve dadilje ne slušaju što majka misli da se treba raditi- već vode red na svoj način, I zapravo rade se u skladu sa vlastitim prohtjevima. One vjeruju da obrazuju djete bolje od mjake u večini slučajeva, ali to djete obožavaju jer se radi o njihovom unučetu. To može biti i dobro- jer majka ne treba brinnut- baba če se snać. A na drugu ruku može biti krajnje frustriajuće jer baba neče raditi ono što majka smatra da s tim djetetom treba uraditi.(Primjer gura djete povazdan- u kolicima a majka želi da djete hoda) Vjerojatno dio razloga za buntovne babe  se nalazi u tome - što se obitelj, te prirodne krvne babe-, ne plačaju.

A zatim postoje babe dadilje- to su stare gospođe koje za novce čuvaju tuđu djecu- I postaju svojevrsne babe plačenice.  Babe plačenice u starijoj dobi počimaju čuvati tuđu djecu, one tuđu djecu zavole, ali povremeno su pre stare I umorne da trče za djecom pa se uskokoše na mjestima gdje ne trebaju hodati, I pričaju staro babske priče o bolestima, nesrećama, vlastitom ispaštanju na poslu a najviše obožavaju ogovarati obitelj za koju rade. No unatoč tom exterior- one su uglavom od povjerenja i djeca ih vole.

Zatim postoje mlade dadilje- cure koje trebaju posao- pa čuvaju djecu. To su studentice i slično , koje imaju energiju za trčati s djecom , igrati se snjima, I zatim provoditi cijele noći vanka. Te dadilje su energične i djeca ih obožavaju jer je svaki dan pustolovina a njih stare babe s kojima su primorene družitit se zbog društvenog života djece u parkovima ne zanimanju.

Man- dadilje su momci koji čuvaju djecu poznatih da zarade za džeparac. Ovi dečci su također super, njih djeca zaista obožavaju jer bijući muškarci oni ne sile neke ženske pedanterije i insistiranja o brisanju lica i ruku milijun puta, oni su spremni za zajebanciju sa djecom- kao da su djeca neke prike- I tako ih djeca doživljavaju. To onda nije djetetu dadilja- već prika u očima djeteta s kojim djete jedva čeka izaći vani se igrati te se vrate kući iscrpljeni i zadovoljni. Ti momci se ne zanimaju za babetine i babska ogovaranja pa nema od toga straha- dok god im se daje koja kuna i hrani ih oni su odlični. Samo što uopče uglavnom nemaju osječaj za urednost pa rade raspašhos s djetetom po stanu- al to je oprostivo.

Postoje i profesionalne dadilje- žene koje su učnile dobar dio svoje karijere kao dadilje. Za dobre se zna i postoje preporuke brojnih obitelji. Te vjerojatno nisu su prijavljene na birou- ali za dobru plaču čuvaju djecu, I domove drugih obitelji.
Ove dadilje već imaju sofisticirane sisteme sa djecom, znaju kako razoružati i manipulirati djecu- jer se isključivo time bave. One su korisne- jer one djecu mogu naučiti o dobrom ponašanju i disciplini.
Ovakve dadilje su skuplje ali i dobrodošle onima koji ih mogu priuštiti, te te vrste dogovora mogu trajati godinama.

Au-pair. To su mlade cure iz drugih zemalja koje žele doživjeti pustolovinu, otrkiti novu kulturu, naučiti malo drugi jezik, pod otkriljem I zaštitom jedne obitelji. Te cure ne traže visoke plače- ali tim curama se u razmjenu za čuvjanje djeteta dogovoreni broj sati- osigura hrana i soba te džeparac. To su uobičajno cure do 30 godina, iz svih krajeva svijeta. Ova kombinacija može biti izvrsna, I zanimljvo iskustvo za cijelu obitelj -i samu djevojku kada se osobnosti pogode. Za pronaći au par. morate proći kroz agencije za au par na internetu- koj provjeravaju i curu i obitelj da budu sigurni jedni za druge. Ja sam osobno s 18 godina bila au pair- iz Engleske - jednoj obitelji sa 3 djece u Italiji preko ljeta.. Naučila sam talijanski, zavolila sam italiju koji sam vikendima otkrivala, zavolila sam obitelj i djeca I ja smo se obožavali. Bio je to pun pogodak- I često to tako može biti. Ali I nije svaki put. Bitno je dopisivati se s curom prije njenog dolaska i upoznati ju malo.


Priko kurca dadilje. Postoji i takva sorta dadilje, To je ona vrsta žene koja se reklamira kao spremna sam raditi bilo šta, čistit pepeljare, prat suđe, ili čuvat djecu. Te su opasne. Ta vrsta dadilje odvuče djete u park, pa cijeli dan samo sijedi i žuga. Ona obožava ogovarati, vječito je na telefonu a ne posvečuje se djetetu, ili pak po cijele dane pred djetetom puši gledaga i sjedi na klup. A na vrh svega djetetu stalno nešto zanovjeta, ne to ne to ne, I sili ga spizom i nevidi da mu treba nos obrisati. To su žene koje se smatraju gospođe, ljute su na svemir jer su mogle proći bolje, nekoć su bile zaposljene na boljim pozicijama i sad su te spremne mrziti za plaču dadilje i napit se tebi i djetetu i vlastitoj obitelji krvi zbog toga. Procijenite da nju ne uhvatite.

Smatram da svaka obitelj traži neku drugu sortu dadilje, ovisno zapravo o roditeljima te kakve osobnosti ljudi traže. Čula sam savjete kada sam tražila dadlju za sina da treba samo tražiti stare dadilje- jer da mlade kradu muževe! A opet bila sam ja dadilja kao mlada- I nisam imala pojma o takvim pokvarenim stavovima.
Sa starijim dadiljama zaista postoji očitovanje dobi- jer te gospođe ne mogu trčati i stati na nogama kao i djeca koju čuvaju po cijelo vrijeme- starije dadilje često "zasjednu" pa čuvaju sa neke klupe.. Postoje I  starije dadilje koje su tako davno imale djecu da ih u starijoj dobi ispunjavaju svakojaki strahovi- od bakterija, I tako dalje, pa ne daju djeci da kopaju zemlju da ikakada imaju prljave ručice, I zapravo sa svojim paranojama u djecu usađuju strahove I od djece prave mlohavce. A još jedan problem sa starijeim dadiljama s kojom majka treba balansirati je da te starije imaju iskustvo, i uglavom sebe smatraju mudrima i u pravu- te često namaću svoje stavove o ponašanju prema djeci, a ponekad znaju biti i malo pre dominantne te imaju previše vlastitih mišljenja u domu u kojeg uđu kao zaposlenice. Ovo sam zaista iskusila i nije mi se svidjelo. Na drugu ruku smatra  se da starije žene imaju veću predispoziciju da če znati skuhati ili srediti kuću ili pak peglati odjeću- kvalitete koje neke obitelji zahtjevaju od dadilje uz čuvanje djeteta.
Meni je uvijek bio prioritet čuvanje djeteta- da se dadilja ne koncetria na kuću- ali opet u iskustvu sa dadiljama raznih dobi i spola- otkrila sam da mi mlađa dadilja cura I muško-koja sluša moje mišljenje što i kako s mojim djetetom, puno veselije ispegla dječju odječu, djete je obožava jer je enegična,  ona ili on supiju uspostaviti disciplinu s djetetom, a meni ne dominira u domu već komuniciramo kao prijateljice i sve bude zapravo perfeknto.

Nadam se da če ovo netkome biti od korsiti, !

The marriage.

I tend to write about all kinds of nonsense. It is my escape vent- sometimes I simply need to write and than an event, or story, triggers whole pages of thematic chatter. After I have expelled a certain number of words-  and was curiously surprised as to all the different countries people read my stories from, I feel kind of happy about it. Every day , I will be happy- if I have created in the form of cooking, in the form of writing or in the form of painting. Sometimes for months I will just cook, or write, and will still be content. When I paint, I get orgasmic, but it can not happen every day.
In my writing I tend to avoid- things I am living trough in this moment. and I tend to abstain from things which matter most. My writing is always a reflection of the past, or an inspiration of small incidents or characters which exist at the edges of my world. Perhaps its because I can not give my real intimacy away to strangers, as its far too alive. This is why- I cant really write about my family- who actually matter most and I dedicate most energy to in my day.

However I have decided to say a thing or two about marriage. I am surrounded by a large number of people who have married and divorced since I have got married, and have started new lives, which may at times seem exciting, and also people who are afraid to commit to such a feat. I am still on that old traditional road heading to , where? Well I in my romantic head, when I had said yes- I believed where heading towards infinity, the forever. And we still are. Lets say marriage is a road- seemingly straight road- a safe road- which at times is broken up with  perilous rope hanging bridges- like the ones you find in the exotic mountains in documentaries,  which one must tread carefully. Than there are at times rocky boulders which turn up on that road of yours, and snakes, moose, cows, all kinds of barricades .. But there are times when you are driving along- and next to you there is beautiful scenery, and you love being where you are and whom you are with, and it is all good. What I am describing here is - close to a video game. You are driving, there are points to be won, there are elements will make you loose your balance, and there are all sorts of unpredictable and predictable things you must deal with. Right?

My husband at this time of year, spends most weekends- racing boats. On Fridays the son and I are all thrilled about our freedom, we go buy all kinds of stuff and exotic foods to have exotic supper, and than on Saturday we go out for mom and son adventures, at night I enjoy the silence of the house, the boy asleep- the freedom to do what ever, but on Sunday when the sailor comes back I'm so glad, and can't even bear him to pop over to the office, suddenly I miss him too much .

As for the annoying habits- married people have. Well when you first fall in love, you have none of course. Than with time we all produce annoying habits- which at first stun the other one.. But these too eventually become predictable- and you can take them with a hint of humour . On no he is grumpy again and in a  bad mood- and you now understand that he is probably just hungry- and you can fix it. You feed the man who every day fails to diagnose him self as such- and he stops being grumpy and annoying.. :)


There are discoveries to be made in marriage too. I mean we age and alter as we grow, and there are elements of the spouse which can really be suprising, shocking, and yet make things interesting.

Married I definitely have more freedom than I had living with my parents. Married I am definitely not as lonely as I would get at times  since starting uni and living alone . There are lots of shades of satisfaction produced during the day as you complete all those thing you need to do just because you are married, which you would not waste time on if you weren't, but its ok. The most amazing thing is the satisfaction of knowing there is always an army on your side- what ever happens what ever you go into- some one is going into that with you. Its really nice.

There are lots of nice things actualy.. But to write more would be digging in my intimacy.. so long, I have finished my morning coffee ..

To speak or to keep silent?

How does one succeed, in the case of having all the required ingredients, to cook up a total disaster? The answer is- due to too little or too much enthusiasm.

When we take that problem outside of the kitchen, and translate it onto people around us... How do we, once we magnifiscenltly click with a person- (as we rarely have the chance to)- than proceed to destroy any chance of friendship?

This does occur. To many people. What is  it that actually happens? A type of euphoria occurs- as a result of discovering that someone , than ether fear of further discovery being disappointing in comparison to the first impression, or out of anxiety that we are about to begin something quite significant, we  behave erratically and inappropriately.

In the last few days I have received an unexpected confession, after many bygone years , from somebody I had found magnetising, that terribly long time ago, when we where first begging to get acquainted, - when the spoken of person disappeared, out of a fear of failure, and differences. Since than I have noticed that I was often observed from the sidelines,  always watched from a distance by this person, and after some million time zones had passed, they braved up and admitted to me and the self, that the imagginary fears where not realised, and I received an apology for their being afraid- then.
It is by far too late, for changing the direction of the inertia of space now, yet some old ghosts had finally found their rest, and some elements of the story have been clarified.

I had once friend who lived on a farm, near my village, when I first arrived to live in England. She was fantastic, containing the right balance of the wild, the adventurous and the kind, to add she was pretty and had long brown hair just like I- a fairly good reason for an eleven year old to see the girl as a friend perfectly tailored friend -for me. I mean we rode real sleighs  in mid summer,trough dusty forests and woods.
 However I commenced high school earlier by one year, and when she had caught up at school ,I was to shy to make an effort in the new surroundings. The whole duration of school I was haunted by random dreams in which I would approach her to contiuee the firendship, but in reality had no courage, as it had always felt too late..Until it really did became too late when I moved away for university, always feeling sorry for not continuing that friendship
Twenty years after we had met, I was living on the island Hvar in Croatia, and one summer afternoon by chance, I bump into her- the girl from the Midlands farm- just after she disembarked the ferry. I recognised her immediately- for she still had the long brown hair, and I was delighted. Seeing destiny had its fingers in this I took up the second chance and we hung out for the duration of her holiday. Despite the fact she still lives on the other side of the continet, and I now live in Dalmatia,   I had a moment in which I could experience that long ago felt- super energy and see it realised in the form of friendship.

It is surprising the number of such stories that I have. There is another with one of my best friends- who I shared everything with- mirth and desperation. We pushed each other towards realisation of our own dreams, and than after many years, probably from the over intensity of the friendship- fought bitterly - and separated, making both have suffer as a result- for there is no other with the same sense of humour, ideas of messing around, and being there when needs be.

So how is it I had succeed in doing it again? It is to be expected that I had learnt something in the process of those experiences, and that the light bulbs in my head flash warnings, alert, alert, stop for a moment, doing what ever you are doing,
when you have no idea what you are doing, do you,  at all.
From a lack of enthusiasm, people do not discover anything, whilst with too much of it , one may burst at the seams, like a ripe pomegranate,  and seeds of numerous ideas burst all over the place without control, endless possibilities are sparked off by that delightful chemical energetic click of personalities, of humours, of intelligence, the very discovery of someone with whom you have endless common interests with, and bubbling ideas,.-.. and than...
Nothing.
It was too 
much.
Than dispersal. A complete waste.
There is no friendship at all, not even acquaint ship.
Mutual non existence.
What a  disaster it is, when one of those rare specimens of people, with whom you would be ready to start building a spaceship to transport humanity to another galaxy, because combined you could make it happen , dissapers from your life.

Actually something ought to be said at that point. Someone should say something, to show a desire to prevent the erasing of each other form existence. The question is when? Is it too early, or is each new day all the more too late, and all the later still, like it was with the girls from the farm? What is worse in fact, the saying nothing- or speaking? Should one just give up? Maybe time and destiny cures all, as the old ones say. I wonder in that case, why does life happen in  episodes? Something happens to you, significantly whams you, and you have no idea what that was, why it happened or how, until half a life time passes by, and you find out the other side of the  same story which someone had kept until than, so that from than on you can continue on form- where you are in life, or start over.

Does anyone have the strength to say, I apologise? On time? And what would those words embrace? Would those words, if they where to be spoken , change anything?

Govoriti ili šutiti.

Kako netko uopće uspije, u slučaju kada ima sve potrebne sastojke, ipak skuhati nešto strašno? Odgovor je , manjak entuzijazma ili previše entuzijazma.

A kada prebacimo problematiku iz kuhinje- na ljude oko nas.. Kako kliknuti s nekim kao rijetko s kim i kompletno uništiti prijateljstvo?

A to se događa. Mnogim ljudima. Što se to zapravo dogodi? Nastupi euforija otrkića netkoga i zatim strah od daljneg saznanja- u slučaju da se sve ispostavi gore nego se na prvu doimi- ili zbog straha upuštanja u nešto što bi moglo biti  značajno, izvodimo bedastoće i ponašamo se - neprimjereno.

Hm, dobila sam ovih dana neočekivano priznanje, nakon mongo godina, od netkog tko mi je bio magnetičan, tada strašno davno  u trenutku kada smo se počeli upoznavati- ali se  ista osoba  sakrila, nestala- od straha- neuspjeha- moguće različitosti.. Ali od tada godinama me gleda iz daljine, sa ruba okvira, te nakon tih milijun vremenski zoni, priznaje sebi i meni da ti strahovi nisu se realizirali, te ispostavi se da tiho pati,  bori se za trenutak pažnje, i konačno mi kaže - žao mi je što me je tada bilo strah.
Ha ha. Odveć je kasno za promjene smjera inercije svemira, ali barem neki duhovi su se slegli, i kockice su pale na mjesto da ih se razumi.

Imala sam jednu prijateljicu što je živjela farmi, u blizini mog sela, kad sam tek stigla živjeti u Engleskoj. Ona je bila fantastičan drug, po pravoj mjeri divljaštva, pustolova i dobrote, a uz to bila je ljepa i imala je dugu smeđu kosu kao ja - bitno nekom s 11 godina jer sve je to činilo prijateljicom krojenom za mene. Mislim- sanjkale smo se sa pravim sanjkama u sred ljeta kroz prašnjave šume ! ..
Međutim ja sam počela srednju školu godinu prije nje- a kada  me je dostigla, previše sam bila sramežljiva , da se potrudim družitit u novom okruženju.. Često su me mučili snovi u kojima činim prvi korak da se nas dvi podružimo. Ali u stvarnosti nisam imala hrabrosti, voz je nekako prošao.. I tako sam godinama sanjala tu situaciju. Zatim je voz zaista prošao, otišla sam na fakultet, i nikada mi nije prestalo biti žao što nismo ostale prijateljice. 
Dvadesetak godina nakon što smo se upoznale, radila sam i živjela na otoku Hvaru , i jedno ljetno popdne naletim na upravo tu curu sa farme u Engleskoj, netom nakon što je doplovila na otok. ! Prepoznala sam ju odmah- imala je i dalje dugu smeđu kosu.Bila sam oduševljena. Kad je već sudbina tako umješala prste- tu drugu priliku sam iskoristila,  družile smo se svo vrijeme  dok je ljetovala.  I mada ona i dalje živi na svojoj engleskoj farmi a ja sada živim u Dalmaciji, imala sam neki trenutak za doživit tu davno naslućenu super energiju- kako se realizira u prijateljstvo. Odlično smo se složile.   I mogu ju svrstati u neke od mojih, iznimno cijenjenih ljudi.



Iznenađujuće koliki broj takvih priča imam. Od najbolje prijateljice s kojom sam sve djelila,  veselje i očaje, i gurale jedna drugu na ostvarenje snova, s kojom se nakon mnogih godina vjerojatno od samog intenziteta prijateljstva upješno svadila i zbog čega obe patimo, jer absolutno nitko nema isti smisao za zajebanciju i humor, zapečaćen s bit ču tu za tebe kad ti treba.

I kako mi onda uspije opet izvesti isto? Očekivalo bi se da sam nešto naučila ili da sam pametnija nakon tih iskustava, da mi lampice u glavi počmu svirati alert alert, stani malo, šta god to radiš , a neznaš što radiš, uopče.
Jer od manjka entuzijazma- čovijek ne otkrije ništa, a od previše, puca po šavovima, puca kao zreli šipak i sjemnje bezbrojinh ideja raspršavaju se posvuda ne kontrolirano, beskrajne mogučnosti potaknute tim nekim oduševljenjem kemisko energičnim klikom, humorom, inteligencijom, otkriće netkog s kim djeliš bezbrojne teme, i vrve ideje... I onda,............ ništa.,............. Previše. Raspršeno.  Kompletna šteta . Nema prijateljstva uopće, ma niti poznanstva. 
Nepostojanje.
Ma koja totalna šteta kad jedna od onih rijetkih, iz te A-sorte ljudi s kojom bi bili spremni graditi svemirske brodove za prevesti ljude do druge galaksije, jer bi od prilike tako nešto u kombinaciji i vjerojatno mogli izvesti,  nestane iz našeg života.

A zapravo trebalo bi reč nešto. Netko bi trebao reć nešto, da pokaže želju i zaustavi brisanje međusobnog postojanja. Pitanje je kada? Jeli pre rano, ili je svaki novi dan sve više pre kasno, i sve kasnije, kao s curom sa farme?  Zapravo što je gore- reči ništa, ili govoriti ? Ili  zaista samo treba odustati? Možda sve ljeći vrijeme, i sudbina , kako kažu stari.
Pitam se onda, zašto život  dolazi u nastavcima? Nešto ti se dogodi- značajno te pogodi, i nemaš pojma kako ili zašto ili što, dok ne prođe pola života, da saznaš drugu polovicu iste priče koju je netko čuvao do tada, i da od tu možete nastaviti, sa mirnom glavom tu gjde ste se upravo našli, ili pak ispočetka.

Dali itko ima snage za reć, oprosti. I što to sve podrazumljeva? I dali ta rijeć kad bi bila izrečena, uopće išta mjenja?