Gizela

My mom said just yesterday: "In fact, she was a charismatic person." The only imperfection in her lifestory was that there were no people who followed her charisma.

A beautiful young lady

She was born to a beautiful young woman, Marija, and a beautiful young man, Franc. Fabčič was her maiden family name. She was born as an Italian because today's Slovenia used to be a part of Italy then. Her first years were quite happy ones, although she did never tell us so. She admired her granddad Luka, because he was a rich and capable man. She tried to please her dad, who was in fact beating his wife from time to time. And then, just before the WW2, her mother died at the age of 45. A little girl was then taken to her relatives, where kind people tried to comfort her. But she kept crying. Her father decided then to take her to other relatives, where she was treated badly and worked as a maiden servant. She was 12 at that time. Interesting, that she stretched those two years and a half into an infinity, all she could remember from her youth were those years of hard work. She kept telling us the same story over and over again, as if there was no other life after that.

But there was life after that, after the war, when she went to work to the other part of Slovenia. She met her future husband there, got pregnant and, of course, married him. Several hard years followed, when she was often hungry. She waited for her first cooking pot in a line all night. She kept telling us this story, over and over again, as if there were, again, no other, happier stories to tell. My mom was born soon after her marriage, some years later also her son, my uncle Aleš, who died suddenly last year in August at the age of 60.

With her husband, Franc.

She was only 41 when I, her first grandchild, was born and she was retired only about a decade later. She worked hard, always. In her home, in her garden. She didn't like to travel, her life was her garden. Her home was a tidy place, I have never seen a tidier one. She always had to be no. 1. And as long as her husband was alive, it was so. She spent the last 7 years alone. She stopped to exercise each morning soon after his death, but not of sadness but because she had no one anymore to prove that she was the best wife in the world.

In her garden ("ranch") two years ago.

She got sick about three years ago. Diagnosed with a cancer. We were not allowed to tell anyone about her illness. She did not believe in her recovery, she despised doctors. When she could not live by herself anymore, she moved to the old people's home, where she passed away yesterday, at 4.30 in the morning.

I was quite shocked when she told me a few months ago that she had never really loved my granddad. "Why did you marry him?" I asked. "Because he was the only one who was kind to me," she answered. 

And recently she's said: "I am sorry that I worked that hard," realising that nothing would remain after her when she's gone.

Her last word to me a week ago was: "Čau." Goodbye, grandmom! She would celebrate her 89th birthday on Wednesday.

Bees

Each beekeeper in Slovenia will tell you that this season is the worst in the last 40 years. Dad has seven beehives and beside this also one little family of bees that found its place on the balcony of my house. I had persuaded him that bees would be happier here than at his home because here they had more food than in the city where he lives (although his home is only about 6 km drive from here where I live). And indeed, the bees filled up the cells of the honeycombs very quickly.

So, about ten days ago Ž persuaded my dad to bring another two hives onto my balcony because the meteorologists kept promising some nice weather last week. But it was far from that. I hope that the bees had time to bring enough food into their hives in three sunny days before this rainy week, so that they at least won’t be hungry before we give them the sugar solution. This year dad extracted exactly zero kilograms of honey.

I’ve heard many reproaches lately that I still don’t have my own bees. But sometimes it is wise to wait a little bit longer. Maybe next year I will be able to show you my own hives and eat honey produced by my own bees, who knows?

Visiting my grandmother

She’s been lonely lately, I know. Once during the summer she almost lost her voice, which came back immediately when mom and I visited her. Mom calls her every day but to be there with her in person is something quite different. She will celebrate her 85 birthday very soon but in spite of being quite old she still works on her “ranch” from dawn to night each day from early spring until late autumn. Her home is tidier than mine. I call such women superwomen. I will never be one of them.

Though, she needs help at picking all that fruit in the orchard; there are about 50 apple, peach, cherry, pear, and plum trees. Beside these one can find at least two sorts of vine, bushes of raspberries and blackberries, walnut tree and hazelnut bush. She grows fig and persimmon trees which usually don’t give any fruit.

Near the house hundreds of kiwis hang from the branches. She counts them every year as well as she counts walnuts, too. She picked more than thousand this autumn. She grows vegetables on two fields bigger than our vegetable garden. I tell you, she is a real superwoman.

I am afraid of the day when she will be gone. With her another source of history will be gone; and not only that – another gentle soul will be lost to this world.

Old pictures

My grandmother still desperately wanted to meet her older sister. So we (grandmom, mom and I) drove to the south western part of our country, into a valley where she was born. I wanted to get as much information as possible about my greatgrandmom Marija and her father Luka but I abandoned all hope while we were sitting in a kitchen of my mom’s cousin where two of her cousins kept talking about themselves most of the time.

I could hardly believe my eyes when at one moment one of them showed us an old picture of Luka (he was allegedly born in 1870)!

Grandmom always claimed that he had been a beautiful man but I was rather disappointed when I realized that he had not been so very handsome at all. Though, his daughter, Marija was. She was supposedly the most beautiful and educated woman in that area. She could speak three foreign languages, and most of all, she could read. It was the first time I saw this (retouched) picture of her:

Of course grandmom’s sister opened the door this time. And while we were alone for a moment, she showed me her living room and there it was… supposedly another photo of Marija! Look at her hair, how it was braided!

Both, father and daughter were good natured people; father was successful and lucky man while his daughter was not really happy or lucky in her life. She died at the age of 44 while he lived 13 more years until 1953.

When we visited the graveyard that day, grandmom put six red roses onto her half-brother’s grave. I took three of them and put them into a vase on the grave of Marija’s two sisters. Later that day I was told that Luka was buried there, too… It is interesting how many years have to pass that we get to know certain things. Grandmom learned about the burial place of her granddad Luka and the year of his death after 60 years! And all we had to do was - ask!

P.s.: It was very difficult to take photos of these pictures because all were framed and covered with glass.

65

Time flies, and another year is around. There’s always good food on our table at this time of year because my mum is celebrating her birthday.

I am glad that I had started to make a napkin for her present early because in the end it served as a prototype. I started to make another one about 14 days ago. It was finished yesterday. It is not as perfect as I wanted it to be but at least it doesn’t have any mistakes.



As months go by I am finding out that I, too, started to feel old. I am engaged in all sorts of activities but there’s still something missing. That’s why I am so much more looking forward to see the spring coming into our land, which will, hopefully, wake me up from this winter sleep, so that I will feel alive again.

The canapés

My parents are trying to comfort me at this hard time when I am without a job. They are trying to cheer me up and keep saying that I am capable of many things. They believe in me as nobody else in this world. I spend quite some time with them, and I know that those are very precious moments in my life.

One evening in September I came to my parent’s house to read my e-mails (yes, I am still not connected to the world), and dad told me to stay a little bit longer because he would make the canapés. This is the result of his work:

Such events remind me why I am like I am. No wonder that I have some strange ideas from time to time too, and after eating the canapés I am still more aware where my exuberant imagination comes from.

The canapés were delicious!

Meeting my relatives

Not long ago my mom told me a story. We used to live in a house of my paternal grandparents and one day mom found little porcelain toys in an attic. She said to my grandmom: “These are surely for Pina to play with.” Grandmom answered harshly: “No, these toys are for some other relatives, not for Pina.”

By coincidence I met these people who had received these toys. Gathering the data for my family tree I asked my aunt to arrange a meeting this summer with some relatives that were unknown to me and to my father. I met a daughter of my grandmom’s cousin and her two sons who are about my age. I wonder what they really thought of us – some strange relatives from the city visiting them. I guess they have a happy and satisfying life. At least it seems so.

From the stories that were told to us we realized how much my grandmom loved these people; much more than she loved us - her children and grandchildren. It is a pity that I was too young then when she was still alive that I didn’t care about my relatives. Today I would love to hear her stories about her mom and grandmom (that nobody can tell today anymore). Well, I heard one story about my great grandmom anyway. At 20 years of age she was a cook in one of the famous Ljubljana’s inns. One day a man approached and gave a tiny leaflet into her hand. On it it was written that he wanted her to be his wife. If she had refused the man’s offer you wouldn’t be reading these lines today.

Snežnik

One of the first books on my bookshelf was the one of the Slovenian castles. I have no idea where my interest for castles comes from. It is presumed that one of our ancestors was a blue-blooded man but nobody has found out yet who that was.

I was thinking the other day when Ž and I went off in search for the woodpeckers in rainy weather that sometimes we might be going over the edge. For most people it would be more pleasant to stay at home. Waking up at 5 a.m. on a Saturday morning instead of lying in a cozy bed for couple more hours doesn't sound very appealing. But if we had stayed at home I would have no story to tell today.

It was a pleasant trip, although we were already very tired and sleepy by noon. On our way back home we stopped at the castle Snežnik, the only one still having all original furniture that was there before WW II. Too many castles were burnt during this war and most furniture stolen (it is usually said that it was taken away).

Among renewed buildings I spotted an interesting house that won't stay long like it is. A guide told me that it had not been that important to be renewed. Of course, it was only a warehouse and a jail in there (could be seen in a distance behind the wall): In the great flood in 1851 the water reached the bridge leading into the castle. The sign tells us about this: I liked the doors. Some tell that times were wild. All are beautiful:

Hopefully I will visit castle Snežnik again when I am not so tired and sleepy as I was that other day. However, there are still many others that I want to visit before.

Ancestors

Yesterday I came across a part of my family tree, the one that is linked to my dad's grandmother Ivana. Filling it up with all the data I could find on the Internet, I got this:

Two people have drawn my attention - Andrej and Elizabeta. He had 14 children with two sisters (seven each) having the same family name. So, they were related! The birth dates reveal that both sisters were giving birth after birth. Elizabeta died at the age 35; my guess - she died of an illness or childbirth or complications at pregnancy.

When I looked at the birth and death dates of their children, another story was revealed to me - three of them, the youngest ones then, died within 14 days. My guess - an illness. That must have been terrible for Elizabeta.

My grand-grandmother was born four years after that. She had never really known her mother because Elizabeta died when little Ivana was less than two years old. She lost her father at the age of 13. Andrej, as it is written in this family tree, died a few days after his last son was born. Probably he would had more children if he hadn't died at the age of 54.

I can only imagine how hard life was for Elizabeta or even Ana, her sister, who probably took care for the children after her death. I live an easy life compared to my grand-grand-grandmother's. Many people lived in that house, I really wonder what they were doing to have food on their table every day. How did they look like? Could they read and write? I have many questions but no answers. My dad is not interested in this and he doesn't know his relatives who still live there. But my aunt does. She promised that we would visit those places in spring. I hope that this will be soon because if I could understand correctly, a grandchild of Ivana's brother is still alive, at the age of 90. Maybe he could reveal more stories about my ancestors lives, perhaps he has some old photos, too. This is Ivana with my grandmom (look at Ivana's dress and my grandmom's bow!):

It is amazing to know how many people had to live that I am here today. This is one more reason to be grateful for being in this world.

Celebration

My mom said yesterday: "I am 46 years old today." I thought how old I would be in just a few years, and my mom thought how young she was when she was 46.

Her mom, my grandmom told a story of her birth some months ago, and also a story of my granddad who came into a hospital to visit them but nurses didn't allow any visits. Somehow he sneaked into the room, and when nurses found this out he was allowed to stay with his women for a few more minutes. He rented one of the rare cars in the town to drive his firstborn and wife back home. It was lots of snow that day on the streets. Oh, what a hero he was!

Without any doubt I looked charming yesterday. Mom was thrilled when she saw me with all that makeup on my face and dad quietly said: "You really look good today." My brother kindly commented: "If you were not my sister I would look at you twice." Ž just smiled when I danced for him.

I knitted a hat for mom but I think that she will need another one, I will have to choose another model and thinner wool.

I played a few songs on the guitar for mom, she likes my playing although I repeat the same three songs over and over again. She made donuts and we ate them all. You know, after all today is - Lent!

Matija

When I was in a primary school I became a member of a library. Not any library. That library was actually founded by my grand-grandfather. His picture had been hanging on one of its walls for many years until the library was renovated.

Just before Christmas I visited my recent library, and searched for a book in its database. I still don't know why I typed my grand-grandfather's name into a search box because I know that the books with his stories (yes, he was a writer, too) are stored in other libraries and not "mine". An address of a miscellany was written in the results. I borrowed this book, and with this a new story of one of my ancestors has been revealed to me.

It is interesting that my mom was always telling me that he was a great man, not my dad who was his grandchild. Yesterday I received this miscellany as a gift from a librarian who wrote the chapters about Matija, my grand-granddad. She said: "It is a pity that none of his descendants was aware of how important he was." Though, I am aware of this. I've loved books for as long as I can remember.

Well. Matija was important for Slovenian nation, for the education of Slovenian people because he did everything that this library was opened every day for everybody, supplying it with more and more books. But on the other hand he completely neglected his family. He actually worked in a bank but he spent every afternoon in a library. How can you have time for four children if you come home when they are already asleep?

Matija didn't finish his law studies because his family was obviously poor but he later worked in an office of Ivan Tavčar, one of the Slovenian writers. He had contacts with the writers of that time, that's why I think he also knew Janko Kersnik, the writer I was writing about in one of my previous posts.

So, he did a great work for the Slovenian nation and I am proud of him. I am proud of him because he was well aware how important was the care for a Slovenian language in those times when we didn't have our own country. He was also well aware that the education was crucial for the nation in such times. I just wish that he loved his family more. Our lives would be much nicer if he did.

p.s.: A photo I am posting is published in the book I received yesterday. By comparing family photos to this one I found out that behind my grand-granddad in this picture stands my granddad (my dad later confirmed this).

Relaxing

It feels good to do nothing at all. It feels good to be with people you love. We made plans yesterday for Christmas evening. My mom broke her arm about two weeks ago and had an operation last Friday. Of course her plan to bake about 20 different sorts of cookies fell to pieces. It's hard for her to do anything with just one (left) arm! So, I offered help. We'll bake just the best ones this weekend and maybe some more during next week. Not 20 sorts of them but maybe 5, maybe 10, who knows.

I've been flipping through the pages of cookbooks quite a lot these days. I think that I will stick with already tested recipes for cookies. Mmmmm...

A helping hand

It seems that in a world as we have it we need more and more people who are aware that we are destroying other living beings because of our own comfort and greed. What I experienced this Saturday was a destruction of trees because of a flower. So it goes these days, this is what we do. And I was there as a helping hand. We were creating a habitat for a rare orchid (I don't have its picture, these two on the photos are from the mountain areas). Owners of that land don't cut grass anymore because they don't have any benefit from that, so a meadow is slowly becoming a forest. It would be nothing wrong with that if someone didn't find the rare orchid there.

When we finished our work I asked people if they gave any offering to dwarfs who lived in those trees or at least said thank you but they stared at me numb and with open mouths. I might be weird but I do believe in what my ancestors believed in.

Sometimes I wonder why we do all this. Is it really worth it? Yesterday I spoke with Ž about the reserve we manage. We can't get EU or any other funds just to maintain it unless we do/build/make something for people too. Why can't we maintain it just for other living beings, for animals and plants, human beings excluded? Why do we have to destroy half of the habitat for the interest of people?

This morning when I drove through a village I live in, about 200 m from my home, still among the houses, I saw a fox. It didn't run away, so I slowed down. Then it slowly moved to the edge of the road and waited there. I think it won't live long if a hunter sees it. They like killing foxes as I heard. People in my village like killing cats as well. And I was present yesterday when a cat caught a sparrow. This is how it goes. I didn't intervene. Why would I? This is a natural selection. But what we, human beings do, is not a natural selection anymore. It is killing for our own interest and fun.

Autumn on its way

Farewell summer already? I hope not. I will miss it a lot. It was such a happy summer, although I can't really say why. Life slowed down a little bit, maybe that's why I felt so happy. I made a little vacation of my summer days by resting, reading, admiring the plants in my garden. And most of all, not doing much housework at all. Only that what was really necessary. I spent two days at the seaside this summer. I will have to do something about this next year. At least double the number of such days. :) Once I took my grandmom and mom there; grandmom hasn't seen the sea for more than 30 years because granddad didn't like it. In a way she was disappointed when we came to a beach because in her opinion the water was not warm enough (although one of its highest temperatures this year was measured that day). At least the food was good.

These days I help my colleague at bird ringing. Mostly our catch are the Barn Swallows. Yesterday we hit a record - more than 500 were lying in the nets. We ringed more than 300 of them, and another colleague ringed the rest. We went home at 1 a.m.

Just imagine how far these swallows will have to travel in the next few weeks to reach their winter habitats. And then they will have to fly all the way back from the south of Africa, over the deserts and the sea. It is estimated that of those 500 caught yesterday only 100 will return next spring. Happy journey, I say to each one I set free, and do come back next year.

But let me enjoy this summer now as long as it still lasts. Happy weekend!

Korošica

Those who dwell among the beauties and mysteries of the earth are never alone or weary of life.

~ Rachel Carson (this quote is from the Soule Mama's book The Rhythm of Family)

I have already mentioned that my granddad (dad's father) loved going to the mountains. Two weeks ago I was wandering around the paths he liked most of all. I visited Korošica (a mountain pasture) for the first time a few years ago with Ž. I don't know why I felt so sad there that day. This time I had the best time in the mountains this year. I stayed up there two days, slept in a mountain hut where my granddad used to sleep, and wondered what was a reason that he named his house after this mountain pasture - Korošica. So, this is the mountain hut I found shelter in: It was cozy in my "apartment" on a first floor. Main purpose of my visit of Korošica was actually to climb another mountain - Planjava (2394 m) near by. I watch it from my bathroom window on every clear day. Last year snow fell too early, so it had to wait until this summer for me. It was steep at some places and in my opinion rather dangerous. I wished that I was not alone at those moments. I met six people on my way, and one of them was a man about my age who caught me taking photos of the Alpine flowers. We said hello (it is custom in the mountains to do so but I keep noticing that lots of foreigners don't greet you passing by) and when he thought that I was not watching him, he smiled at this. He was already on his way when he turned and asked me some more questions. One of them was if I was going his way. Then I had to smile. So, "my" mountain on this photo is on the left: And on top of it there was a big cloud. :(Next day I climbed another mountain called Lučki dedec: I obviously took the most dangerous path of them all. Oh, how I wished that Ž was with me then! In spite of fear I admired the Alpine flowers, my favorite ones, spotted the Rock Ptarmigan, a rare bird to see, and kept saying ah! and oh! all the time. Later on my way back I stopped at a jewel that not many people know of, I would say. A little lake with a hut on its shore. I was astonished at what I saw. It was so peaceful there. There are so many beautiful spots in our mountains that I still don't understand why people keep rushing to the top of Triglav. Is it really so important to be up there? I don't think so. Hopefully I will return to this lake and Korošica again, there's so much more to explore and see, and there are so many unknown paths to walk on. Even if they don't lead on top of any mountain.

Ranch

When my friends don't have time for me, when my loved one is not at home, when my parents are running the errands at home, and when I need some company then I sit behind the wheel of my car and drive to my grandmom's ranch. She spends summer days there. Since my granddad is not with us anymore she's been lonely, and lost the will to live. Now she thinks she's old. She lost the reason to live.It was a pleasant day yesterday, it was time to rest and talk. About what there is and about what there was. We stored the onions, cleaned the shelves in the cellar and went for a walk. We made plans for the near future - hopefully one day we will drive to the seaside; she hasn't seen the sea for more than 15 years because my granddad didn't like it.

It always amazes me how we are sometimes setting the unnecessary limits to ourselves because of other people. Often people ask me when I am in the mountains why I am alone. Oh, people, I can't wait for others to take their time for going somewhere, life is just too short! And I prefer walking alone anyway. People often hurry to get to the top, and then they rush down home. What is chasing them?

Tomorrow is another special day in my life. I won't spend it behind the screen. I never do. I hope it will be a good one for you, too.

Clouds

People will only protect what they love, they will only love what they understand, and they will only understand what they are taught. ~ Steve Robertson

I was told that my granddad loved watching clouds. I love watching them, too. The other day there was a big "cloud show" on the evening sky. I stood there on the balcony and admired the clouds for a long time. How could I resist?

Summertime

I know, I haven't been around for quite some time. I took a week off, and I have to say that it was a pleasant one. :) It started with helping my colleague to cover the roof of his weekend house. Ž and I had a special apartment, sleeping up in a hayrack. :)After a day of hard work we took a bath in a natural warm pool nearby. I enjoyed myself a lot, it felt more like a holiday than real work.

I spent the first day of summer in the mountains. The season has started, at least for me. My favorite time of a year is finally here! :) In the evening I visited an observatory located on one of the Ljubljana's hills. I had a chance to observe Saturn, galaxy and star mist with a professional telescope. I have realized that I know much more about the sky than an average Slovenian citizen. This probably comes from watching the stars every clear evening when I was a little girl. :)

I visited my grandmom this past week, too. She's been lonely and has become rather melancholic since she's alone. Most of the time we chatted, but in between I gathered some herbs for winter teas. These days chamomile smells nicely in my home. And in the garden waited so many raspberries for me that I couldn't eat them at once. Yum! Oh, summertime, what a joy you bring! Enjoy yours!