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Lazy Sunday

Sunday 09 July 2017

First, the Boy decided he wanted to help Babcia with the rosol. After making the broth of chicken, duck, and beef, she adds vegetables, and the Boy always loves helping in the kitchen.

"Babcia, do you have a cutting board?" he asked, and before she knew it, he was carefully cutting the bits of rejected cabbage and other veggies.

Afterwards came the walk -- but first, the Boy had to open Babcia's tricky back gate.

Out on the walk, I decided we needed to change things up. Instead of heading straight to the river, we turned left where we normally continue straight. I had a feeling we would end up on the other side of the river, but E was lost. Until we saw the river a little bit later. Then crossed a bridge over the river. Then saw the spot at the river we normally visit -- only from the other side.

The dog of course enjoyed all the puddles

Life at Babcia’s

Saturday 08 July 2017

A clothes drier is a standard item in the States. I don't know anyone who, having a washing machine, doesn't have a drier. That's simple enough to understand: electricity and gas are both cheap in the States, and driers are almost always packaged with washers. In Poland, though, it's a different story.

In much of rural Poland, gas lines simple don't exist: all gas products use propane tanks. And as far as electricity goes -- forget it. It's ridiculously expensive compared to what we pay in the States. Bottom line: Babcia doesn't has a drier, and that means one thing -- there's a lot more ironing going on in Babcia's house than in our house. Everything -- jeans, tee-shirts, underwear (and I'm not joking here; some people do iron their underwear), bed clothes, everything -- gets ironed.

With all the additional clothes, that would be a ridiculous amount if work, so we try to iron as much as we can. (I say "try" because Babcia is liable sometimes to pull everything off the lines and iron it all while we're out hiking or some similar silliness.)

Today, E learned to iron. L insisted that she knew how to already, and when she began ironing her own clothes, it seemed that she did indeed know how to. The Boy, though, needed lots of instruction. They both need a lot of work with folding, though.

The outcome: after a few minutes, they were fussing and arguing over who got to iron.

Ten Miles

Thursday 06 July 2017

I’ve often mentioned how we tend to repeat things during our visits to Poland. The island in Slovakia that we visited yesterday--countless times. The castle we might head to tomorrow if weather turns bad--many, many visits. The line park in Zubrzyca Gorna--who knows! In some cases, like the line park, it’s just because we like it. Or rather, our kids like it. Sometimes it’s because of taking various visitors to certain sites. And sometimes, it’s just because we think it might be good for our kids to experience it once again at an older age.

Today’s adventures included all the above.

We went back to Dolina Chochołowska, a valley that runs through the Polish Tatras just at the border of Slovakia. It’s a place where you can see some incredible views, soak your feet in some frigid mountain water, and get enough exercise to exhaust almost anyone.

In short, we did ten miles today. The “we” consisted of two grown men, two five-year-olds, an eight-year-old, and a ten-year-old. The two youngest trekkers made the vast majority of the trip on their own. E rode one my shoulders for perhaps half a mile, maybe a little less, perhaps a bit more. But the vast majority of it, his little five-year-old, short legs carried him. Willingly. Without fussing.

The Girl was a fussing mess the last time we hiked Dolina Chochołowska four years ago. Today, the only worries came when, during a break, she slipped off the rocks where she was playing and got her shoes wet. But even that was only a momentary set-back. She took her socks off and continued the rest of the way (probably four more miles) in wet sneakers with very little complaining.

As usual, click on the pictures for a larger version:

Rematch

Wednesday 05 July 2017

The Girl didn't make it the first time around. She reached the penultimate obstacle -- an incredibly long zip line -- and she quit. Did she reach her limit or did she give up? I don't really know, given today.

This afternoon, we headed back to the same location, and I put on my tennis shoes and tackled the same course with her.

I think it's the most fun I've had with my daughter in years.

To begin with, she was incredibly helpful. With each obstacle, she explained what was challenging about it and how things went the last time.

"Daddy, this one is really hard -- you might want to use the zip line like I do." I refused, and within a few moments, thought, "That young lady had a good idea after all." The two obstacles that she suggested this for were so muscle-screamingly exhausting that I realized if there were more like that, I might not make it myself.

At the end of each obstacle, she was there to offer a hand.

"I'll hold this last one for you, Daddy, to keep it still."

More importantly, though, she was a different young lady. I don't know if it was my presence or the fact that she was tackling the course for the second time, but she was incredibly confident. The portions of the course that gave her so much pause last time warranted only a quick caution and explanation.

A few hugs along the way helped as well, I'm sure.

No photos -- for the first time, the camera stayed in the car the whole afternoon -- but a friend shot some footage for later use.

What did I use the camera for, though? The jarmark, of course.

LOT Dzień Pieszego Pasażera

Tuesday 04 July 2017

There's a funny scene in Miś, my favorite Polish film, in which a broken down tram line turns into an occasion for entertainment -- literally. A program of singing and such prepared before the breakdown in the event of a breakdown.

https://youtu.be/fVERhThxypY?t=5184

It was, I think, a parody of the ruling party's ability to turn anything into a "celebration." That continues today, I think, with Miś-like similarities. When K left yesterday, there was a band, priests, politicians, news reporters, photographers, various people in formal dress, all for the occasion of K's flight's departure. The first direct flight from Krakow to Chicago in some time -- maybe ever. I don't really know. It doesn't really matter. What matters is that it was a big deal for some people.

While waiting in line to check in, K was interviewed. "Watch the news," she told her mother later, "I might be there."

What an occasion!

Except that the departure was delayed over an hour. And that deal cost K (and her traveling companion, U) their connection in Chicago. Which meant a wait over almost eighteen-hours for the next flight.

"See?! I told you guys not to fly LOT," proclaimed B. perhaps she's right.

A Few Days Off

Monday 03 July 2017

There are times when there's just no way I could update our online story even if I wanted to. Not enough hours in the day. And sometimes, those days stack up, and the back story stacks up, and so the pictures will have to give the details.

Friday in Jablonka

Friday 30 June 2017

K’s stay is coming to an end. On Monday, she flies back to the States with U, her best friend’s daughter, and we stick around for another three weeks. Today, though, was her last full day here in Jablonka, and as usual, she tried to accomplish a million and one things.

Lunch was easy — a trip to what was fifteen years ago the only real restaurant in Jablonka. Then a short visit to the appliance shop down the street.

Polish Architecture

Friday 30 June 2017

Zab 2017

Thursday 29 June 2017

It must be a late-June/early-July weather acclimation thing. Or maybe it's halny. Or maybe -- likely -- it's just coincidence. At any rate, it's late June, and we're in Poland, so that means we head to Babcia's ancestral village, Zab.

In 2008, it was July 9.

Tooth

In 2010, it was June 28.

Ząb

In 2013, it was July 1.

Visiting Ząb

In 2015, it was June 28.

Ząb 2015

And in 2017, it was June 29.

Out of our five visits, then, there's one outlier, and only by a week. Whatever the coincidence, it's always an enjoyable highlight of the visit to Poland. But the day didn't quite start out as auspiciously as it ended. It began like you might expect a day in the village to begin: with a lot of work.

When we arrived last night, we discovered that Babcia had taken delivery of enough kindling for, as she explained, three or four years. And at least a quarter of it was lying in the road because the tractor that delivered it couldn't maneuver any closer. So we got to work segregating and hauling various pieces of wood from a woodworking shop, wood of so many sizes and shapes that it was almost overwhelming. This morning, we got to work cleaning up the final bits.

(Click on images for larger view.)

We all pitched in. E was in heaven, for he loves doing anything work related. L has always been less excited about work, but she helped like the rest of us with no fussing, no concerns but one: "What will Babcia the next time she gets wood and we're not here?" Growing up in more ways than one, that girl.

(Click on images for larger view.)

The trip to Zab itself was as it always is. We stop by the most beautiful cemetery in the world to clean up Babcia's mother's and father's grave and pay our respect, head to her sister's house for incredible cooking and even more amazing conversation, walk across the street to her brother's house for a second helping of everything, and end at Furmanowa, where one can undoubtedly find the best views in Poland.

(Click on images for larger view.)

There's nothing more to say because I've already said it several times over, and therein lies the perfection.

Nowy Targ Day

Wednesday 28 June 2017

Changes are everywhere in Poland. It's like not seeing your friend's child for two years and then being surprised at how much bigger she is (which is a common occurence during each visit here, for both us and our local friends).

Nowy Targ, for example, was not a city that would immediately come to mind as an answer to the question, "Where is the nearest nice park?" I went there a lot while I lived here, as it was the nearest city and another American lived there with whom I became good friends. If I wanted to get contact solution, I had to go to Nowy Targ. If I wanted to speak English without worrying about what vocabulary I was using, I had to go to Nowy Targ. If I wanted to watch a movie or eat in a restaurant, I had to go to Nowy Targ. If I wanted to commiserate with someone about this or that apparent Polish absurdity (I complained a lot in my twenties. I still do, but not nearly as much...), I had to go to Nowy Targ. But it was not a place that would make sense to say, "Hey, let's take the kids to that great park in Nowy Targ." And now it is.

A lovely park with pedal-cart rentals for the kids, nice benches for tired adults, workout-stations for more energetic adults, giant chess boards for chess lovers, shade, sunshine, flowers, trees -- just about everything a little park in a little city might need.

Later, talking to a friend, I mentioned that I don't remember it being there at all.

"That's because it wasn't, at least nothing worth mentioning." But thanks to some European Union funding (I'm guessing here, but it's a likely source), there's a nice park by the river just beside the ice rink in Nowy Targ. Who would have thought?

But even twenty years ago, Nowy Targ had the best ice cream on the planet. And they had a market square, but without the fountains for kids to play with and all the open spaces. Just a big parking lot, more or less. EU funding again? Most likely.

The main purpose of the NT trip was to see C, with whom I played more pool and watched more movies and chatted more hours than just about anyone in Poland -- certainly during the 1996-1999 stint.

But more on that later...