Enchanted forest

 One afternoon I took a friend to an unscheduled walk after doing some errands. I pretended I know the way and I kept her talking and walking on a road leading outside our small town. It lead us to an enchanting forest. I think I have been there some years ago, but now everything seemed much more beautiful. Maybe due to the rain from the previous day.
We went on a desert country road, deeply scared by carriage tracks which had been on that road during its muddy stage.
This image made me remember the fairy-tales which enchanted my childhood. I almost expected to see a dwarf running between the trees or a fairy flying down on a sun ray. I don't have to tell you about the scent...from the blossoming acacia or the sound of the undisturbed birds, busy with their  household chores.

 Seeing in front of us a herd of cows, my friend urged me to find another way back. So, we took a path which I thought was leading to another part of town. Bad mistake! It led us to a younger part of the forest where people had gathered branch poles for the vineyard. It was, of course a dead end, as was also the next path we tried.
Thus we had to go back and take the same road we had come, just in front of the cows. Soon after this we encountered some people, cutting some of the fat grass for the poultry, I suppose.
It was a nice walk, although my friend was very tired. But she doesn't dare protest too much because she doesn't want to upset me. As to rewards her, I took her an a road I knew had beautiful acacias. She had expressed her desire to photograph them before they lost their blossoms.

 He re is a sample. This acacia had the company of another blossomed one, I dont' know what exactly. What I enjoyed was also the old-fashioned stone wall surrounding that yard and supporting supporting the hill.

 Here is a detail acacia flower. Unfortunately the picture can't render its scent too...

 This wandering opened my friend for walking, so she suggested descending towards the valley on  an unfamiliar road. This lead us to some sorts of gardens hidden away between the houses and the apartment blocks. I enjoyed taking into the objective also a bold-necked rooster and its hens which were enjoying the fresh green there.





This is a decorative flower pot from the park. I liked the flowers which surrounded them but also the vine pouring from it. As you can see the pot has some archers from ancient Dacia. They reminded me of a historian's mistake. He translated, many years ago, a document about these people saying that a ruler had cut all the vineyards in the land as a measure against their corruption by drinking wine. I remember a discussion among my many uncles, who were feeling sorry for these ancestors of ours. They couldn't imagine how you can life without having your own vine. I don't think there are many Romanian who can stand life without their wine. Life would be unbearable...I imagine that this was the situation with the people from Dacia too. Thant's why I liked the idea of the vine pouring from the pot decorated with these native warriors.

 With these concludes my incursions for these days. Here are some pictures taken by my friend at her grandmother's - for the ones missing their rural childhood.
Here is the swallow nest under the roof of the hundred year house.

 Here is the caring mother hen, hiding away on some straws in a corner...

And the distant cows and sheep on a never-ending green field.

Bad play

Last evening I decided to go to the theatre. I had bought them some days before in a hurry, asking about the day and hour. It didn't occur to me to ask about the location. I knew that the theatre had undergone some restorations, but I assumed that they had finished and the play was acted there. Bad mistake!
I decided to go to the theatre, in spite of the heavy rain with lightnings. I took a vary big umbrella as not to get socked and met with my friend. When we go to the theatre, of course the parking lot was empty. Fortunately, a man saw us and came out from the theatre to tell us where the pay was acted last night. It wasn't far, but we were already late. There were only ten minutes till the beginning. I consoled myself with the thought that they usually don't; start in time. Finally we got there and we found also some acquaintances. Sharing our adventure with the location confusion, I felt better to find out that I hadn't been the only one to make that  mistake.
The play was disappointing. The consensus among my acquaintances was that it was the worst play acted at this theatre. I understand that it costs a lot to produce a play and people prefer other kinds of entertainment nowadays. But it''s a shame when a scene, which has seen great productions and actors, is now used only to host a light comedy, played in a hurry and without passion. The script was a combination of two famous plays of Caragiale, but badly staged and fitted.
It was a real disaster. I couldn't crack a smile, and I am usually a person easily amused (as you could see if you had the chance to read my blog). It was more interesting listening to the comments of some teenagers behind me. It is interesting for me to find out what is in people's heads and they show this when they do this anonymously -Who can identify them in the darkness of the theatre stools?
The actors were weak. The only one to make a better impression was a secondary actress, who played a maid. There is a picture of her on the left. I found myself thinking- why is she wasting time here, with these amateurs, when she could do more? I wonder what keeps her here. I am sure it's not the money or the public appreciation.
It was also interesting to watch the performance of another actor. But not for his talent. It was only to notice that he uses the same gestures on stage as he does in real life. I know him socially, him being the boyfriend of one of my friends. When I first met him, I noticed him, as he wanted to be noticed, of course, for his theatrical, loud gestures and vocalization. I took it as a character he wanted to play in front of us and enjoyed that somehow. At the party, it was a nice entertainment. But now, at the theatre, I know of expected to see another performance. He is a professional actor, after all. Isn't he supposed to change skins as to adapt to the character he plays in that particular play? I expected too much, isn't it? Good actors are scarce.
So, that was it with the play. When we came out, the sky had cleared and the air had that great fresh moisture and flower scent that fills you with delight after summer rains. I enjoyed the discussion with friends on a terrace and the walk in the park. I had a sandwich ice cream, remembering the chocolate chip cookies sand ice cream from US, despite my slight cold. It was a velvet-like dusk, which seemed to me full of heavenly promises.
I'm sharing with you some chestnut flowers to get a gist of it.

Pig slaughter

Today a friend of mine slaughtered a pig with her family. It is not the right time of the year to do this, usually Romanian do this on Christmas, but it, and its brother, got too fat very fast and they had to slaughter one. The other is not much thinner, so I don't think it will survive till Christmas either. A pig's life...everything has a limit anyway.
My friend gave my some pork skin, which I adore and these pictures. She knows I can use them to present our traditions with different occasions.
In this image, you can see a piece of traditional courtyard "furniture". It is used, as you can see, to dry up and store different pots used around the household ("prepeleac").
The pig slaughter begins with serving it some home made alcohol. The men get it drank as a form of anesthesia. On Christmas, the children usually chase the pig around the yard for a while, to their delight.
In every village, there are only a few people who are called to slaughter the pigs. The men of the house help at its slaughter in smaller portions outside in the yard and then the women take over the preparation of pork in the kitchen.

In this image you can see the stage when they burn the hairs.

After hair burning, they boil some water for washing the blood. As you can see, they do this in a very "small" pot.

Before they wash it, they soften it with ground salt. Here is an image of its washing. It is very minute, considering that every part of the animal is used.

And here it is - washed and ready to "party". It seems to take a nap before leaving...

This is a picture taken especially for me. My friend knows that these pictures, in which the pig seems to be smiling, amuse me very much. This pig seems happier even, especially when you look at its raised pointy ears.

This is the stage when they cut a cross on its forehead. I think it's a blessing for the meals that will be taken from it.

This is the last stage in the courtyard, its opening and slicing of the meat. As you can see, it had a lot of grease. It had a good life and it was its time to go.