grasswire

Yesterday I took the “night train” back to Kamnik. I was surprised to see that many people at eight in the evening once I got on the train because my station felt kind of lonely and deserted but luckily I had my camera so I could play a bit while waiting. But there were no interesting stories to be heard, like the one on the way to work when one of the high school pupils was talking how they smokes pot with his French instructor and how she always makes him a cup of tea that gets him a bit high. And than the two guys started taking about their clothes and colours…

Unless it is an early version of a self-help book, the title of the 1990’s famous book that I admittedly know of only from frequent mentioning by Bridget Jones, could be seriously flawed :) One of the books on this illustration from a Slovene 1930’s women magazine bears the title “Battle with Martians”. Apparently, the book is real and can still be rented in Slovene libraries, like probably all other titles of this well stocked pulp fiction bookshelf.

It’s been a while since my last number spotting without being camera-less; the little red number is an “accidental finding” from my bathroom floor.

P.B. Although it may not appear at first sight, I am a perfectionist by nature. Come to think of it, it is probably more by nurture than by nature, watching my father work for hours on almost unobservable details of his sculptures. I don’t know the proper English word for it, the Slovene one is “picajzla”.

Like some people, some buildings have nothing to show once you peak through the doors. Empty. Neglected. Dull. Come to think of it, the whole week was kind of dull and Monday’s 15cm-of-snow surprise didn’t help improving it either. Just so that you don’t accuse me of negativism, the doorknob on this door is really nice, but unfortunately it is covered in graffiti that don’t really flatter it. Perhaps I”ll snap it next time.

Here is a definite “must share” link, the most decadent camera function ever. It makes Soviet retouching school look like pussies - check out the new HP slimming feature. Am shocked and appalled. Perhaps it will become a part of McDonald’s Happy meal :)

One of Tamara’s latest tricks – for last couple of weeks, she has been holding her pacifier by herself.  She often plays by spiting it halfway out and this way she dos not loose it. But if it nevertheless falls out of her mouth, she will let us know about the tragic incident. Or sometimes try to find a comforting hand.

Hmm, another week just flew by and this fact does is not particularly thrilling. It is rather chilling – Tamara is 11 weeks old and I am stuck on the page four of my PhD.
The week itself had some highlights apart from the sun (it was way over 20C), like visiting Natalija and Mohamed that among other things, originated this black-eye snapshot. Or Edirisa meeting near Idrija (washed down by wonderful home-made gnocchi). But back to photo – this is the ultimate garden kitsch I saw in a while. It is a miniature (approx. 1,5m x 4m) model of Slovenia’s highest peak Triglav and surrounding mountains, complete with all of the mountain cottages, paths with ropes etc. (see thumbnail) The tower at the top is a bit frivolous interpretation of the original but one has to give credit to the whole idea.

Izola is a kind of town where you don’t have the names of streets written on the house numbers. So there are just numbers all around you and they stick out so much that you expect to run into Peter Greenaway around the corner. Anyway, here is a number for you.

P.B. I hate ordering fish in Slovene restaurants – the prices are listed by kilo and they usually don’t tell you in advance how big the fish is, so you have no idea how much you will pay. Most of the times, they don’t even say we have one nice medium or large one… Grrrr. And of course, you have no means to verify the weight of the fish, i.e. your bill.

Saturday looked like a perfect day to take or little Tamara for a walk by the sea. And since there is only a five minute step from our coastal destination to Trieste, we took the princess out of the country for the first time, flashed her brand new passport and drove to Italy (btw, new Slovene passports are even uglier than the last edition). Upon our return we went to a small and sleepy town of Izola, where we strolled through deserted cobbled streets under lines of drying laundry. It was a genuine off-season experience with closed restaurants, windy sun and rather surprised looks of locals. Not to mention the “back to 80’s” experience in the only open restaurant at the waterfront. The only thing that was not from the mid eighties was the fish that was really delicious. They still have a long way to go… But still, it was nice to walk the narrow streets despite the wind and their loneliness.

It is only now that I see that most of the photos I took were of windows. And the place is not as run down as some photos might suggest, it’s just the picturesqueness of the washed out colours that attracts the eye…

Look at these delicious sweets our sweetest friends brought to us from Iran today. Mmmm. Mmmmm. Pistachio filling, lots of cardamom, tender dough. Mmmmm. And since we don’t intend to share them with you (unless of course you drop by in the next day or two), you only get this linguistic “treat” from the box.