seen from Moldova
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seen from Moldova
The first day of my vacation.
Gardening, pink soup and a cold oatmilk mocha (alco-version).
I can feel the summer undoing my winter (even though my youngest and his screentime piss me off immensely, and already the first day got me some dead nerve cells, and there are two weeks ahead). I still like it.
Baltic laundry, a collection of shots from this summer for @laundry-list
That time of the year again. We merely stepped into the woods for half an hour after dropping our youngest at the summer camp.
Now the real question is what do I do with this monster?
He probably will get frozen and become soup in winter.
- Spent the past two weeks between doing chores, bartending and Hitler. It's Viasat History 'Masters of the Reich'. No, I love translating documentaries, especially for History channel, I am particularly fascinated by WW2 films, but maybe not on school holidays and when I have a fuckton of shifts and a kid around. Yes, yes, same old story. Me furious and pissy about everything, working after shifts, before shifts, on my days off etc. Making everyone so happy. The bottom line in our house these days: 'The guy has been dead for 80 yrs now, and he still can fuck up your entire life!'
The other maddening thing about this documentary is how much correlation I can see with what happened in the rus/ukr conflict, and how the entire Europe just keeps looking away and 'expresses concern', and the one guy meanwhile just does what he likes. And then there goes the US and your recent political twists. Everyone I'm reading is so worried about Trump grasping for power again but I don't see you being worried enough. You don't get what it's gonna be if the world needs to keep turning between him and putin. A potential plot twist is way more gruesome than you think guys.
Ok, something merrier.
- I've been scrolling through my feed on Tumblr and accidentally hit a blog where I'd read about making pickled eggs. Just put your hard-boiled eggs (or tomatos, or carrots, anything at all) into pickle juice, and there you go. I love mildly-salted cucumbers we have here every year. They're not marinated in vinegar, it's just water, herbs, salt and garlic. I make them at home too, but those they sell in stores must have a secret ingredient. Cocaine, no less. Well, these pickles - friggen cucumbers! - are costlier than meat once they're packed into this bucket. How do you explain it to me if it's not coke added? And why are they so addictive?
Well, I bought some, and I'm so sticking my eggs and tomatoes and carrots and everything into this cocaine-flavored water! But I was very upset that I'd closed the app and couldn't find that blog anymore. I wanted to thank the author and maybe even follow, but... Two days later I discovered that I'd taken a screenshot of the pickle post. I'd tag or link it but the op doesn't allow to reblog it so i dunno. Just use the idea.
- I'm still harness-traning Vivi, and it takes way more patience than I expected. Actually, I paid a trainer in hope she'd help me but in fact I paid for a nice chat and a cheer-up. She gave good advice, ofc, but I knew all these things before, that's what she said 'you seem to be smart enough on your own'. This meeting would've done good to my partner who is absolutely clueless in this. But I'd prefer to pay her for doing things for me not telling how to do them?
It's been a super hot day, my first day off after a six-shifts-in-a-row-plus-cleaning-plus-hitler madness. I've let my 11th trainee to strike out with espresso and milk on her own. I've finished ep2 of hitler this morning and spent several hours on a lake with my youngest, then we made cookies. I'm very tanned bc I still manage to spend alot of time outside. Now I share the bed with a kid, a dog and a cat, and I hear the rain sprinkling slightly, the sound of it is such a music. My partner is on a business trip again, and he has just sent me this.
My next deadline is only mid-August and I've made some money on Hitler and Jack Boucher. Left military-conflict conscious and anxious, I'm going to Saaremaa island this weekend, so I'm gonna be reblogging some of my own posts from 2 yrs ago when I last was there.
What else can I do? Here are some summery pics. I hope you're well.
I actually intended to write how everyone is an asshole recently, and how annoying Instagram is, and how boring Tumblr is but it steered off the course, and maybe it's for the best.
All I've managed to snap before it even was June.
I tend to watch nature closely and notice things, so I've noticed this, and then I've read it in the blog of that biologist I'd been ranting about recently. Everything blooms, blossoms and develops a month sooner than normal this year. I believe she knows these things. And although early and swift springs like this happen from time to time (and the last time it had happened in 2018 in Latvia), it makes me seriously anxious. And at the same time I can't help but feel happy cause summer is hot shit, and I rush to embrace an extra month of it.
I'm standing in our dank bathroom. It's dank because we don't use central heating in summer, we have no windows here, and our ventilation system is far from perfect. I'm leaning over the tub, waiting for water from the tap to fill the bowl. I'm going to hand wash some items because a large part of my laundry in summer demands additional treatment. Some items are rayon, silk or linen, and they like cold wash. Some have suffered from summery stains, those from grass, dirt, hot barbecue sauce and sunscreen.
While water runs into the bowl, I turn my head to blow away a mosquito that has landed on my naked sunkissed shoulder. My feet are awfully dirty as I walk around barefoot. I think about Gerry Durrell who once wrote about building pink clay pools for his amphibians in Corfu while his brother Leslie was building him a boat. Everywhere Leslie went he left a sawdust trail, and Gerry left pink footprints everywhere he went. We live up north, and my kids' and my footprints are black from the soil in our garden. But at least my toenails are painted, and I spend a second to enjoy the contrast of the bright hue against the tanned skin of my feet.
My hands are wet, so I rub the place where mosquito sat with my chin, turn off the tap and resume rinsing rags in cold water. This is July.
Been to Mexico tonight.
Not really. Just the Blue Hills in Ogre.
All pics are taken after 11pm.
I love Latvian nature and the white nights in June.
so far the experiment is turning out real nice
