07. Glass

I grew up with a mom and a grandma who placed a lot of weight on certain things. One of those was having pretty flowers in the house almost always and displaying the said pretty flowers in appropriately pretty containers. Cue vases! The two on the left you can see on the picture below were gifted to me - the tall one by my grandma, and the round one by my mom. The one on the right was also a present from mom - real Murano glass, from Venice. The tall one I grew up around, it was a stalwart on my grandma's coffee table and as kids, my brother and me were strictly forbidden from touching it lest it should topple and/or fall. The yellow one was the one my mom reached for most often whenever there were flowers to display. I love the colours on all three of them, being particularly fond of the blue/mustard combination.

01. Morning

I was never a morning person. I do thrive in sunlight and my brain and my body function better when its light and bright outside, while correspondingly winding down with dusk and seeing me hit the pillow around 11 pm pretty much every night. But getting up in the morning - boy, that's always been a tough one. Apparently not when I was a kid - my mom says I was as much of an early bird as they come, calling out enthusiastically from my crib at the crack of dawn (that then came back to bite me with my first kid - karma is a you know what ;) All that changed very soon. I remember school holidays, the dog days of summer, and me sleeping in until 11 am or even noon - something my aging back would not allow me now, no way. That feeling when you wake up and it's daytime, hours of precious sunlight already gone, and you need to catch up. Only, it's summer, it's the holidays, and it doesn't matter!
Getting up for work- a nightmare in my book. Especially in winter. I'm quite the opposite there from my husband who just jumps out of bed when it's time and he's ready to face the music. Me, not so much. I just want to stay under the covers, and steal a few more winks of sleep. I just always feel I need a few more...
All that has changed, however, in the past six months. In addition to getting up to take my older daughter to school, I started going to the gym in the morning in March (the perks of being unemployed). I became a veritable gym bunny! I'm converted! I hit the thread mill for 20 minutes and then workout for an hour with a personal trainer. This happens three times a week, but getting up other days of the week has become much more manageable too. I don't now if it's the exercise or what, but it helped. I look forward to mornings. I look forward to working out. I want to get out of the house (although that's not always a straight forward operation given I have an almost nine and an almost three year old).
The photo below is of what I see when I get up - that chimney in the distance is a landmark, something that speaks to me in a way that conveys the 'everything is ok, you're home, everyone's safe' message. It's tall and sturdy and comforts me, odd as it sounds.
The next one is from my gym's locker room. I like going there, leaving my phone behind locked and just sinking my teeth in a good workout.
For the rest of the August Break participants, all the Insta action is happening under the #augustbreak2017 moniker, while you can also share the joy in the Facebook group here.

The Festival of 35

Another year, another birthday. I must admit, the excitement was not the same as a few years ago - 35 sounds pretty middle-aged to me. Actually, I was pretty bummed about the prospect of edging closer to 40 and entering what I imagine is the second half of my life. Kiddies, a super-attentive husband and some cake baking sort of dispelled the whiff of desperation that was hovering around.
And then my family came, my mom, my brother and his brood and the house was full of laughter, singing and candle-blowing and I instantly felt better.
My mom brought me the best of gifts - a perfume and an orchid.

Prada's Infusion d'Iris has been a favorite for quite a while. I love its clean, uncomplicated smell, with some pretty powerful undertones.

The 100 ml bottle came with quite a few samples and I'm loving all of the Prada Candy varieties.

Just look at this beauty! It really made my day. I just hope we'll be friends for a long time and she'll bloom again and again - I'm determined to make this one a keeper, despite my previous disastrous record with orchids...















Having trouble staying away from the sales, I treated myself to another pair of  Clarks:

Source

These will be perfect for walking the cobblestones and broken sidewalks of Belgrade this fall while taking my daughter to school and trying to get to work on time. They can be worn in the rain, another bonus, not to mention how delightfully comfortable these are - for me, that's what I get from Clarks shoes. After I got my first pair last summer, I now own four and I have never looked back.














I have a few drinks with friends scheduled throughout the week, so the festivities continue, an my man has his birthday later in the week as well. Lots of Leo action going on in our family!

I have a 'books I've read so far in 2015' post lined up, however, I can't seem to get around to finishing it these days. Will have to have another crack at it soon.

Scarf Magic

I'm checking in shortly today as tomorrow we leave for the house in the country - my husband's grandparents' place in Croatia, for a long weekend of garden frolicking and barbecues. Sadly, grandma and grandpa left us last year and it will be really strange spending time there without them but in a way it will also be as if they are there still, in spirit, nodding approvingly at the house being filled with children's laughter again. My older daughter remembers them well and all the love and care that were bestowed upon her there since day one. It's sad that my younger child will not experience that but we'll try and keep the legacy alive at least by regularly visiting the place and recreating some of the unique atmosphere.

I recently stumbled upon the magic that is Laniakea scarfs on Facebook and was blown away by the design and look of these beauties. Designed and printed in the UK with the final touches done by hand in Belgrade, they are silk and glorious with hand-rolled edges and wonderful colorways.
My personal favorite is below, but do check their website for the whole collection. The price may seem a bit on the high end, but for silk scarves and with such unique design - they are ending up on my wish list for sure.

I woke up on Easter island

Their FB page boasts the following spirit:

Source

Worth checking out. My love of scarves know no bounds, I love them as accessories all year round, but there is decluttering to be done in that wardrobe department as well! For now, though, I'm just going to look forward to travelling and enjoying life with the family - priorities!

Life Lately

Talk about a blog hiatus! With a six-year old and a baby, pretty much everything else in my life had to take a backseat for a while, including this space which has been sadly neglected for eight months :( After the first nerve-wracking three months with the newborn, just as we were sailing into the new year, life got a bit easier, and at the same time so much more intensive and required my full-on, full-time presence and involvement in everything that was going on in the now household of four.
At the same time, I was slowly getting back to myself, a lot easier this time around than after my first pregnancy, although not without a few hiccups. Taking time to care for myself did the trick. I started pilates in February and I can safely say now that it has made me fell better in my own skin than anything else I tried both before and after the pregnancies. I can really feel the muscles that have come back and, barring the odd spare tire around my waste, that is still persistent in lingering on despite the almost six pack beneath it ;) I feel so much stronger, more flexible and like I own this wondrous instrument that is my body and that it is serving me well. Walking around with the baby in tow for a few kilometers every day helps as well, just as a recent fortnight by the sea did.

My Firstborn

For six years (one week short of six years, to be exact), my first child, my beautiful daughter, has been the first thing on my mind when I woke up and the last thing I though of before falling to sleep. My love for her has grown exponentially since I gave birth and has become the single most fulfilling emotion that graced my life. My love for my husband, my mom and brother, my close friends and other important people in my life was still there but the depth of my feelings towards my daughter trumped all else.
Our relationship was built gradually, starting as a mother's worry for her newborn and evolving into a warm, deep, caring sense of knowing, belonging, loving this little person who just became more and more awesome as the days passed by. We established our own communication, our own language, our rituals. This became all important for me. It also changed and/or modified my relationships with everyone else in my life, bringing out the good stuff - as well as the not so good - to the surface and influencing how I saw the world and everyone around me.
No, I did not forget about everything else. Having a child brought me and my husband even closer, augmented our love and enriched our relationship. I did not stop thinking about and doing stuff that make me who I am - although some of these things took a while to get back to. I continued working and dedicating a significant amount of my energy to my work. I continued travelling through work and enjoying every bit of it. I eventually continued going out, with my husband, with my friends, co-workers, going to the movies and the theater, taking long walks, just enjoying myself.
Still, my feelings for my child and my life with my child became the single most defining aspect of my everyday. She's grown up into a smart, sensitive, happy child, attuned to the world and other people, curious and observant, with a lot of empathy and deep emotions. And that made me so happy and so proud of everything she did and accomplished. This became especially pronounced this year as she has grown up so  much, showed such a special sense of understanding life and her surroundings, and learned so many different skills.
And then, almost a month ago, everything changed. I had this concern that giving birth to another child would alter this most important relationship in my life. Partially, that was the reason why I delayed getting pregnant for the second time. Things started changing during pregnancy and even before I've said it out loud it was my child that defined the profound shift that was to take place in our household. One day she just said 'Mom, I know, when the baby is born, nothing will ever be the same'. Ha, talk about an insightful kid...
However, the real extent of the change manifested itself once I got home for the hospital with the baby. While I was in the maternity ward for three days, I was beginning to get to know my newborn and enjoy time with her but my thoughts were always with my elder. What is she doing now? Is she worried that I'm not around? Does she miss me? Is she sad, upset? Am I going to get home in time for her birthday?
Come home on time I did. And managed to organize everything and everyone so that the birthday celebrations would not lack anything, just as before the baby. But I couldn't make it to the party for her friends. That killed me.
However, the realization of how much things have really changed hit me hard that evening. The baby was asleep and I went to get my party girl to bed. We got into the pajamas, brushed our teeth, and I lay beside her, just as I've always did - that was our special time, to talk, giggle, tell stories, sing and cuddle. I hugged her and she was almost nodding off when it hit me - God, this may not happen every evening from now on, there is someone else who needs me, and this does not feel the same as it did before- there is someone else to think/worry/care about. I felt a great sadness overcome me and I started crying.
In a way, I miss it. I miss that feeling of caring so much for my special girl and only for her. I feel sad that I have sort of robbed her of that feeling as she will never receive my undivided and exclusive attention in the same way as she did before the baby. I know that the love I feel now is not simply shared/divided - it is augmented and richer, but I still mourn the loss of that unique feeling and bond I had with her.
The baby will never be the only one - she is always the second child thus she gets to share me from day one and for her it will be normal. But it is different for my firstborn. She's been really great since the baby came home, gracious, caring, helping with everything, she's just a darling girl. But that night I felt the loss of something I know will never be the same and felt it so much so that it hurt physically. 

Mom 2.0

Well, who would've thunk it? Being pregnant, giving birth and becoming a mom the second time around is equally as all-consuming as it was six years ago when I first gave birth. And that's where all the similarities stop. IT IS NOT THE SAME. It is so much more of everything...

My newborn will turn one month next week and to say that my life has undergone a complete and profound change is an understatement. The depth and wealth of emotions I have been going through this past weeks is almost indescribable, wonderful and deeply perturbing, all at the same time.

The biggest changes - at least how I see them now - concern my relationship with my firstborn, my impressions on giving birth, breastfeeding and doing all these things that only women can do, and my attitude towards my body.

I'll try and write about all of these in separate posts in an attempt to clear my head and find reason and rhyme to what is a whirlwind of intense emotions at all times since another precious little girl saw the light of day through the miracle that is childbirth.

The Waiting Game

Two things making me jittery since this morning:

1. Today would have been my father's 60 birthday. Typing 60 makes me cringe - he would have been only 60! And I would have expected a good 20 years more out of him, just as I do with my mom. But he's not here and I will never see him or speak to him again. It is these two things that make coping with his death as hard as it was almost five years ago. I so wish I could hug him once more and hear him say my name, nothing more. I see his picture on the shelf as I walk through my apartment every day and some days it just startles me how very much alive and happy he looks on it and for a second I forget that he's dead. I decided I'll try and not let myself be sad all day but work on remembering the happy bits, the anecdotes, the love, the four of us being happy and laughing.

2. A follow-up ultrasound for the fibroadenoma in my left breast. I was diagnosed with it past October and the shocking (to me) revelation came followed with the words 'don't worry, a third of the female population your age has that' or something to that effect. It didn't make matters any easier though. This is a benign lump that warrants some monitoring and especially during the pregnancy, to see whether the hormones make it bigger or smaller. On the conscious, rational level I know this is not something to get worried about or freak out over. I know that my life is not immediately affected by it. I know I need to be responsible and check it in regular intervals over the course of two years and that's it. On the subconscious, more primal instinct level, I want to scream my head off. I'm scared, I dread the moment I'll enter that exam room and I don't know how to make it through the few minutes that the examination will take place.

This speaks volumes as to my problematic relationship with any form of medical issues, given my family history related to cancer. I am acutely aware that I'm in that high risk group with everything that's happened on my dad's side of the family and I know regular check ups is the way to go (hello colonoscopy, probably next year, after I've had the baby). That, however, does not make it any less scary.

I just need to breathe deeply, take the plunge and hope for the best tomorrow. The lady doctor is very nice and I hope everything proves to be ok.

Meanwhile, I leave you with pictures of the bump and my current favorite summer handbag.

The Year We Lost our Grandfathers

Knowing that the Grim Reaper comes for those who are indeed first in line given their age and health issues does not make loosing a family member any easier. Within a month apart, both my husband and me lost our grandfathers. They were both almost 90 and their health, their bodies were failing them in the past few months to the point that living was not easy. Both have been blessed with long lives and relatively good health well into their 80s so I guess that in and of itself is more than any of us can hope to experience given our sedentary way of life and the questionable quality of food we are ingesting.
That does not mean that their lives were easy. My husband's grandfather survived the Second World War in a German labor camp. My grandfather was purposefully displaced from Montenegro - the land of stone and hills - to the rural flats of the Serbian northern province of Vojvodina. They both spent most of their lives tending to the land and animals, although they both also earned their pensions through regular office work.
Losing my grandfather means there is one less member of my family from my late father's side and that makes me so sad because it's also like every time that happens I'm also losing another part of my dad again. My grandpa was a tall, strong man, with wavy hair - a feature most of us, his grand kids, have inherited. He was very optimistic and easygoing in his manner and very disciplined and hardworking. He could cook wonderfully, another trait that runs among the male members of my family, and could also make a mean apple strudel. He was also very stubborn, another of his characteristics that some of us (khm, khm) inherited without doubt.
My husband's grandfather was a figure of authority, old-school man of the house type, but also with a great sense of humor and very lovable. In some photos the resemblance between him, my husband and my daughter is uncanny. Visiting his home in Slavonija, in Croatia, enjoying the outdoors, the country stuff so appealing to the kids grown up among the concrete blocks of a big city, was every bit as exciting for me as it was for my daughter. He lived an honest, simple life albeit taking the hard way out of some situations because that's just the way he was. Obstinacy is also a family trait in my husband and my daughter and it is he who they have to thank for it.
I will miss them both a lot. They will never meet the baby growing inside of me, but my daughter will remember them both.
My maternal grandfather, though, is still alive and well, going strong aged 84, and I am very thankful for that. His is a very special place in my heart.

Wait, what, it's Friday?

This Friday caught me off guard, a whole week whizzed by . . . And then this morning was one of those when nothing goes according to the plan, beverages are spilled, stains in inappropriate places, no time to change, rush, rush, rush, uphill in completely inappropriate shoes:

Why oh why did I have to wear them today? I am always complimented on them and I like them (ALDO purchase from a few years ago) but trying not to be late to work when I'm already late and distraught with all the mishaps of the morning in a pretty high wedge heeled sandal is not a wise thing to do. I wasn't very patient with my daughter because of all this so I'm trying to make amends - I printed out a whole bunch of Little Mermaid coloring pages and I can see a crafty weekend coming for the two of us.

In order to stay sane and up to the task at work, this is my mantra:

It would have been my dad's 59th birthday next week. His last birthday in 2010 we spent together and it was a very special day. We have great pictures together, we made him a special lunch - marinated tuna steaks, and I made him a cake. It was one of the last times that he was feeling well and was in a very good mood before he died a few months later. I miss him so much.

Vanity

. . . as in my vanity table/shelf actually, which is just leaned against a wall in my bedroom and filled with bits and trinkets, holding all the jewelry amassed over the years, perfumes, memories, sun glasses, etc. The main reason for posting - my daughter's arranging skills. She finds it to be a perfect playground and as she really likes her small toys she just brings them over to my room and sits in front of the mirror arranging them, making up stories, putting them to bed, and God knows what else, her imagination is unstoppable. Every day when I come home from work I find another arrangement which brings a smile to my face. Mind you, I am not allowed to move anything, she gets very upset! This is how it looked like this morning . . .

Friday Favorites

1. I just love how rummaging through the piles of clothes in the morning I become inspired to get something out - a piece of clothing or an accessory - for a proper airing after a long time. That happened with this necklace this morning. I found the striped tee I wanted to wear and in a sudden epiphany I realized it matched perfectly with this necklace so I took it out and about town for the first time after months and I am very pleased with the results (see exhibit below):

2. I managed to work through my frustration at having my mother-in-law with us this weekend (for all the obvious reasons daughters-in-law feel frustrated with their husbands' moms) and during my lunch break today I took her shopping for a swimming suit. A daunting experience for us 30-somethings let alone for a 65-year old who baulks at the granny looking back at her from the mirror. I helped and gently persuaded and pushed and assumed a tone of a mother treating a rather petulant child and we pulled it off in the end. And I'm glad I helped.


3. This song has been in the background of a grueling week at work, energizing a tired mind and making my body shuffle at least a bit while slumped in a horribly uncomfortable chair behind the damned computer screen:

4. The weekend ahead and the prospect of entertaining dear friends at our new place is making me happy and full of plans for a perfect Sunday late lunch menu. So far, the following items have made the list:

• roasted thigh or shoulder of any decent meat we find at our butcher's
• stuffed eggs (courgette and butter based stuffing, yummy!)
• mashed taters with basil and bacon (a total improvisation, will report on the success or lack thereof)
• celery, apples and walnut salad
• rocket, tomatoes, pine nuts and Greek goat cheese salad
• and an apple tart with vanilla ice cream and dates for dessert

I'm hungry just writing about it!!!!!

Cancer

Today marks the beginning of another chapter of my family's ongoing battle with cancer. After my aunt died of liver failure caused by cancer metastases in 2001, aged 50, and after my father died of same causes in 2010, aged 56, their sole remaining sibling, my other aunt, is starting chemo today because of breast cancer. She is 61.
Should I feel better because the age at which this silent killer attacks is extended in each case? I hoped it would skip her and we, the second generation, could find a grain of consolation in that and not think of ourselves as destined for doom once we hit 50. What does this say of our genetic make up? Statistics are ruthless. We are all in great risk by sheer virtue of being our parents' offspring. One 'faulty' parent is all it takes.
I am aware a lot of this has to do with lifestyle and habits, environment and circumstances. But among the three of them, my father was the one who most contributed to his own demise and one would think ok, fair enough, he had it coming. For my eldest aunt who died first - no such explanation/excuse. She led a healthy life, ate well, exercised, and went for regular check ups. And yet when she was diagnosed they gave her 2-3 months before the bitter end. She beat all the odds and survived that prognosis by two years. But she never lived to see her daughter get married and give birth to two beautiful granddaughters.
My other aunt is overweight, granted, and a chain smoker, so I guess it's no surprise as well. But in her case the monster didn't raise its ugly head until she ventured into her 60s. And breast cancer has by far a more optimistic survival rate than liver/colon cancer. Yet, I'm not consoled. I'm worried and sad. I am trying to stay positive and send positive thoughts her way and I really, really want her to fight a good fight and come out victorious at the other end.
Another thing I'm noticing - dealing with this, the disease, the diagnostics, the surgeries, the chemo and prognosis - it's somehow easier each time. You know the drill, you know how it goes and what lies at each turn. And the fact that I have a doctor husband does not actually help - I am faced with the ugly, medical home truths about it all, no sparing my feelings and no beating about the bush. Blood, sweat, vomit and tears. The lot.
I wish I had more positive feelings on this. I wish I had a better attitude towards the disease and doing something about it. I'm still at the stage where I'm mostly paralyzed by prospects and fear for my own life. But I have a child and I have a responsibility to her - to stay sane foremost, and to stay healthy.

Dragonfly - the perfect example of the fleetingness of life

Together for 60 years

It is my grandparents 60th wedding anniversary today! Sixty years, people, sixty years of a balanced, harmonious marriage, based on love and respect, that's an achievement in itself!

That is not to say that there haven't been ups and downs, tough times, rough patches, call it what you want. And compromise. But given that my parents got married in 1953 and that both of them were born in 1930, you can see that we are dealing with people from another time, with a different set of values and a different attitude towards relationships, obligations, families, responsibilities. For them, marriage is something you enter into for all the right reasons - they were seriously in love when they got married - and then cherish and work on in order to make it last. It is not to be taken lightly, it is not to be dissolved, solutions and means are to be found, the family is to be kept together and ripe old age and death are to be faced together. Truly, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health . . .

I admire my grandparents for sticking to it, sticking with each other and making it work all these years. I've spent my childhood with them and I grew up on love and care that was always in abundance in their house. Money was never overflowing but there was always enough. My grandad was the bread-winner and my grandma the home maker, though a miracle worker might be a better term for that, given what she managed to do with just one salary.

It was not all plain sailing all the time. They've lived through some really tough times, like the war in former Yugoslavia, and loosing their birth place and members of their families to atrocities of the civil war. Between them, there was also mention of potential infidelity on my grandfather's part at one point, although, reportedly, it never went so far as to become physical. But my grandma suffered some for it, that I know.


Yet, they made it even through that.

It's hard for me to say whether my marriage will see the same ripe old age. But I know I want it to. And I'm willing to work on it! 


When talking to my grandparents yesterday, I heard about the weather predicament that could have prevented their wedding from taking place 60 years ago. My granddad spent 12 hours in a snow-blocked train up in the mountains of Lika before being able to reach the village and the whole wedding party that was waiting for him to go and get the bride and get married. There was a lot of drama involved, as we are talking of an age that didn't involve cell phones and wireless communication, so no one basically knew what was happening with him and where he was. Talk about nerve-wrecking!

But he made it and 60 years after they have two children, four grandchildren and two great granddaughters to show for!



p.s. pictures from the weekend spent in my home town in Serbia . . . 

Happy New Year!

Yes, another one just whizzed by . . . The sense of warp speed with which years pass by me is increasingly palpable ever since I had my little girl four years ago. I can't believe she's grown so much and is this pretty fantastic little lady already! 2012 has been a special year for her, just like all preceding ones were and the future ones will be, as she is beginning to show her true character more and more, as well as her abilities which are, if it is not to presumptuous to say so given that I'm her mom, amazing! She's a sweet kid, very empathetic and in tune with even the slightest quiver of emotion around. She's also very stubborn and she knows what she wants and is ready to get it no matter what! I love her to pieces and I hope 2013 will be another fun roller coaster ride for her and us as we tag along ;-)

2012 was remarkable for me in many ways, mainly deeply personal and having to do with the shifts and shuffles in my inner workings. I cannot say I have it all worked out or that I'm a new person, but some changes started and cannot be stopped any more. I have a somewhat different attitude to stress, work and life in general, I fret about things at least a little bit less, and I know my priorities - my family, my well being, my peace and then everything else. I started taking better care about myself. I went to a dentist after many years of a completely irrational fear of even smelling that particular smell that so unmistakably says you're at the dentist's. I started eating less crap and more home made food. My new job allows me a one-hour break during the day which I use to walk a lot and I feel so much better for that - walking is the ultimate cure when it comes to my sense of well being.

I started this new job in March. And I like it. It's so much different than my previous job and my previous relationship with my boss and it's such a relief and a refreshment. I still work a lot, I still work more than other people in the office, I have my boss's ultimate trust, but at least I don't have to endure brain washing on a daily basis any more. And that helps a lot.

I'm not sure though how this will reflect on my future jobs and carrier and I know I need to already start looking past this situation and seek more permanent, reliable solutions. A tough cookie, I know.

This year was also marked by a big baby boom among my friends and family and happy news abounded throughout the past 12 months. Sadly, the year also involved more or less untimely deaths as a constant reminder that my dad is also not around any more.

The most important job my husband and me have initiated this year - getting a new, bigger home for our family - is not finished yet and I will be quite anxious for the holidays to pass and to hear some much awaited good news soon. I can only hope and pray for this one . . .

Here's what one of the horoscopes I browsed says for the upcoming year:

LEO/LEO RISING
YOUR FUN-FILLED FANTASY your big break
YOUR FULFILLING REALITY taking care of family business
THE CHALLENGE TO ACHIEVE BALANCE between clean living and hard work, and taking off on a crazy tangent
THE MYSTERY TO BEGIN UNRAVELING sex, death and other people’s money
YOUR STRONGEST ASSET Focusing on home repairs and eating proper foods.
YOUR GOOD NEWS BY SPRING friendship

Interesting . . . Especially the balance part ;-)

With this I leave you in 2012 and I wish that all your woes and troubles also stay there so that the New Year can be refreshing, thrilling and positive for all!

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

P.S. a gratuitous shot of the office counter which was graced with an abundance of sweets provided by me today for my colleagues, until, erm, the sweets just disappeared ;-)

Celebrations

Today is an important day for me and my family - it is our Slava Day, or the day we pay our respects to the patron saint of our ancestors, Saint Nicholas. Slavas are a big thing in Serbia and to me they, perhaps more than anything else in our orthodox tradition, harken back to the old, pagan days. The whole concept centers around getting into the good books of your patron saint by placating him/her with different offerings - mainly in food and drink - and securing health and prosperity for your family.

Apart from this, Slavas are, or should be, about gathering your family and friends in your home, welcoming them and spending time together to show and feel connected and unified in life and celebrations.

For my family - my parents, my brother and me - this used to be a big thing, a very important day that then got extended to two or three days of guests parading through our home, spending time and leaving well fed and merry. It involved complex preparations (a week before was sacrificed to preparing and producing as much food as possible and procuring all that might be necessary on that day - beverages, tableware, that particular locally produced rakija or wine, etc.) and it would leave us exhausted both physically and financially, but my parents wouldn't have it any other way.

It's this typical Serbian propensity for overdoing it that I found most problematic about marking your saints day, but I'm not going to nitpick about that now. Sometimes I wish I'd taken pictures of the lavish spreads that my parents prepared, delicious food and cakes, the taste of which I still remember very well.

Those times are well and truly over. My dad is gone and my brother took over the Slava, but we don't do the big shebang any more.

We carry on but in a smaller circle of only the closest family members. I miss having my friends over because that made the day special for me and my brother while we were younger.

Although we are all acutely aware of loss and missing my dad on this particular day, I want to start changing our attitude a bit this year. I want us to also feel happy and grateful that we are here and able to sit around the table together and enjoy good food and each others' company.

That is important, the sense of togetherness and being a family, albeit incomplete and permanently damaged in a way.
***
To finish off on a lighter note, here are the pictures of a few cute little fellas that will soon make their way to some little people that i want to make smile for the holidays!

The Gang ;-)

For my niece

For a little kitty cat girl

A special white mouse for a special little guy

A sage owl for a thoughtful and smart boy

Midlife Crisis at 30

A great article which I stumbled upon quite accidentally. A good read about the struggles that we, the women in our 30s, have by virtue of being daughters of our mothers who first experienced the pains associated with having it all. Read more

Enlightening ;-)

Our tree is up!

Admittedly quite unusually for the local custom, but I've put the Christmas up already! My daughter is beyond thrilled and I immensely enjoy getting all the bells and whistles out of their boxes and up to the tree. Ours is a plastic tree, I just don't believe in cutting one every year to have it die in a month's time.

Here are the visuals:

It's cute, I like it, it has waaaaaay too many decorations and it's gonna stay up until the end of January! It takes two and a half hours to make it all pretty and nice like this so we may as well enjoy it!

Two Years

It will be two years to the day tomorrow that my father died. He was 56. I remember everything about that day, minute by minute. I remember my grief, that of my mom and my brother, my husband, as well as the grief of so many people that came to our house to share the sadness of the loss.
For not only did I loose my father, my grandfather lost his son, my aunt lost her brother, my mom's numerous family lost one person that they all universally loved and liked a lot, and his friends and colleagues lost a loyal and good friend and co-worker.
And that was what has sort of taken me aback the most at the day of his funeral - how many people showed up to pay respects because my father was an important part of their lives as well. His friends from childhood, high school, university, his co-workers. I guess I knew he was a well liked guy, I just didn't realize how much so.
Loosing a parent is never easy, regardless of their age when they die. Loosing your spouse, however, is I think even harder and I can see that on my mom. She misses him the most.
Whenever I watch a basketball game or a tennis match, whenever I hear or read some poetry, whenever I hear talk of Russia, I think of my dad. I remember all the good times, I remember my childhood and I know he loved us both so much. I know he loved his granddaughters a lot as well and I'm sad for him and for them that he's not around to see them grow up.
But I also remember the bad stuff and all things he's done wrong which contributed to him leaving us that much sooner. I remember him telling me during his last days how much time he spent with unimportant people instead with us, me and my brother. He was genuinely sorry for that, I know. But I also know that I thought 'well, it's a little late for that now, isn't it?'.
I don't harbor grudges. Any that I had are long buried and forgotten. I have forgiven my dad for everything a long time ago, long before he died. I'm just sorry I didn't tell him that in so many words.
I said my good bye the night before he died but I didn't say it out loud for fear of stirring him from that semi-conscious state he was in. I wanted to say 'I love you dad', but I didn't, at least not out loud. And I regret that a lot.

Autumn

I am a child of summer and I feel best during long, warm and sunny days, with light being the key factor in the equation. I thrive on sun and sun light. I get all depressed, listless and energy-deficient during winter and I just want to curl up and snooze until spring.
That said, I LOVE autumn. I love the colors, the smells and sheer abundance of seasonal fruit combined with hints of imminent decay announcing the cruel winter.
The pictures below illustrate my point exactly. These were taken during the weekend getaway with my family.

 'Tis the pumpkin season after all!

 Wall nut leaves have this amazing tobacc-y brown color that I like so much.

 This shrub got all confused poor thing and blossomed in November ;-)

 Last of the roses before spring.