tysolna: (starhair)
This is about the only Latin that I can readily remember (except for such other perennials as "erare humanum est" or "veni, vidi, vici"), and this is mainly because it is one of the phrases that my mum and I are always repeating, like a well-oiled comedy team, which is fantastic.
Anyway, the sentence is true today: we're living in a cloud. I can barely see to the other side of the road, the sun is a pale dot in the sky, every sound is muffled, and I am sure that as soon as it gets dark, the only thing we'll be able to see are the lights in other people's windows.
Fantastic.
tysolna: (medieval hands)
It's so stormy outside, the birds are flying backwards. Not intentionally, obviously, but they get blown past my window, pigeons and magpies and blackbirds, trying to fly one way and ending up going the other way.

Took me a year or thereabouts, but yesterday evening I finished watching the whole run of DS9. I had forgotten how much I like this series, which is probably my favourite Trek show (bar TOS, of course). I had also forgotten how sad the last episode is, all those endings, it's almost as bad as the end of LotR.

Mum just called me from the phone box outside my grandma's home, and I'm glad she did.
tysolna: (Feld)
Houseguest

Which is what my friend Red said the other day about getting DSL, and which is absolutely true. There's so much to grab and try and taste, and I have to be very careful not to get sick of this. So, I take small steps, pick and choose from all the colourful sweets out there.
BBC Radio is one - Comedy, Drama, Music; you British don't know what you've got with your BBC radio, but maybe that's only my Anglophile's point of view.
Flickr is the other. I've been exploring that site, and my goodness, I love what people do there. I need to load up the battery of my camera and start looking for photo opportunities, and I mean really looking, do more than point and click.

And I will have a good opportunity to do that in the next week, because my parent's nomadic genes have struck again; this time, they and two friends are going on a trip re-creating one that happened fourty years ago, when two men from Germany went on a trip to Czechoslovakia one summer, and picked up two women hitch-hiking. They travelled together for a bit, and a few years later, the couples married.
Yes, I owe my life to the chance meeting of people on the road. Talk about perspective.
tysolna: (take me away)
Boy, am I glad I have internet access at work!

We were incommunicado yesterday. No DSL, no phones, and for the first time my father was glad to have a mobile phone.
The phone issue was sorted by the end of the day. Seems the German Telekom (dumdumdum DEE dum) had messed up our phone connection way back when, and someone from our local telecommunication firm (Osnatel) had to come over and replug the plugs, or something. By the end of the day, we had telephone again. Hooray!

Now, DSL. Since we didn't want to have to pull wires all through the house again, we (=dad) decided on a wireless LAN router. And every computer can find it, which is good. My dad can also access the Internet through it, after some fiddling with settings, which is also good. My computer can find the router, and get a very handsome connection with it - but nevertheless, I am not online. Mum's computer can't even connect to the WLan network, even though it can see that there is a network it should be able to connect to.

Dad's calling the provider. I hope it's sorted by the time I get home.

Prediction

Jul. 6th, 2006 12:19 pm
tysolna: (tardis tinkering)
We're supposed to get the DSL connection today.
Knowing my family and a tendency to mess up everything that's technical, it may be some time until everything is working as it should be working.
I'm actually glad that I am at work at the moment.

So, if you don't hear from me for the next day or two, that's why. But I will be back *crosses fingers*, and faster than ever!
tysolna: (innocent girl)
Yep, I stole the title from [livejournal.com profile] metaquotes.

I'm eating chocolate, drinking tea, and completely reconstructing our band's webpage. It needs to be done; it is old, and there are so many things I would have to move around that it's easier to rebuild.

An hourglass is a waist of time.

Yep, I stole that from a forum I frequent. At least I made that up from a typo someone made, so maybe stealing is not the appropriate term.

Yesterday, I visited a semi-medieval fair in my home city, which is connected to the 26th international Hansa Convention, celebrating 650 years of Hanseatic League. There were a lot of things to see, but I as usual gravitated to the medieval fair, with its music and smells and the semi-medieval "fair speak". There, by chance, I met a friend I hadn't seen for probably five years, and we shared some mead and stories. It was good to see him again and to know he's doing well.

It's getting warm here again, and someone is starting to fire up the barbecue in a garden close to ours. I don't mind the food smells, but the stuff they use to start the fire stinks.
And I've got melted chocolate on my white t-shirt.

Le Family

Jun. 14th, 2006 01:58 pm
tysolna: (lazy woman)
They are back home, safe, sunburnt, and fighting over trifles.

Le sigh.
tysolna: (woman with violin)
From way-too-cold to way-too-hot in the space of a few days, hooray!
So much for my feelings; now, about the weather. ;)

The parents will be returning tomorrow. Where did those three weeks go? But they should be pleasantly surprised, one hopes, about the garden and washing and stuff I did. At least they won't be coming back to a run-down messy place.

Went to a beautiful concert last night: Sibelius, Arvo Pärt, and a violin concerto. OK, so it was a Brahms violin concerto, but the violin was played by Baiba Skride, who in my opinion is one of the best, probably even the best violinist at the moment. She made the instrument sing, sigh, plead, and sit up and beg. What slightly amused me though were the pre-solo movements of her left hand: rub slighly against leg to dry it, and try out a little fingering. I do the same.
Hearing her, I wish I had practiced more when I was younger. But, as someone said last night after the concert, it's never too late unless you're dead.

Strange, that. It's too warm even for the new computer. It refuses to work correctly.
tysolna: (walking past with a smile)
Yesterday evening, my aunt and uncle arrived, so there's Czech being spoken again at our house, and it's getting busy. On Saturday, Dad will get a caravan from the lenders, and on Sunday, the four of them - mum, dad, aunt, uncle - will be driving off into the sunrise, or rather, driving northward. They are going on a three-week trip to Denmark, Sweden, Norway and Finland in the caravan.

Which leaves me all alone at home for three weeks, just me and the cat.

Now, why is it that I can't stop grinning?




PS: Yes, guys, I got the message! :-D Cross fingers on Tuesday.
tysolna: (up yours)
The thing about feeling light under Czech skies is that when I get back home, I feel like my head's stuck in a bell jar for a couple of days before I readjust to the slightly higher athmospheric pressure. This, of course, results in me not being completely awake during the day, not falling asleep lightly in the evening, and getting up on the wrong side of the bed in the morning. It's only an hour's change with summer time, but I feel as if I have jet lag.
Thanks to that, I had a day of rows yesterday, first with dad, then with mum, then with a good friend. Two of the three I was by now able to clear up, and all of them were down to misunderstandings, as per usual.

The good news is that my dad finally relented: We're going to get DSL in a couple of weeks and internet flatrate with that. No more counting the minutes crawling around the net for me, hooray! Now all I need is to get a new email addy and inform everyone.

The next good news is that [livejournal.com profile] manchester_red will be here in a mere three days. Which on the other hand means that I have only a mere three days to clean up my place and do some shopping.

I honestly couldn't give a monkey's about bird flu; what I do feel is a slight (ok, more than slight) tinge of Family Pride that my mum's cousin Milan Malena, whom I've known for years - and have seen slightly inebriated at more than one family gathering - he of the booming voice, many jokes, and who is national veterinary management director of the Czech Republic, is currently in the news a lot, both nationally and internationally, both print and TV, because the first case of bird flu has been found in the Czech Republic, near Hluboka nad Vltavou, where I have been driving past the day before yesterday. They have a pretty castle there, and a very nice restaurant. It is a weird feeling when people and places you've known all your life are suddenly in the news.
Even though I have to chuckle at the way Milan is holding his wineglass. God but that's so typical!
tysolna: (starhair)
Ah, yes. Did I mention it's snowing again? Mmm, what a lovely springtime!

But enough complaining. It is fun when I can open my snowed-in bedroom window, grab a handful of snow from the roof and throw snowballs at the unsuspecting outside. And this winter, I've been able to do it more often than ever before!

I just hope the weather clears up in a week, because mum and I will be driving to visit my family in the Czech Republic, and I don't much fancy driving under hazardous conditions. We'll be gone from the 18th to the 25th, and I will be taking my camera with me this time around.


While I was walking through the city, I had the feeling that somebody was watching me from the top of a ten-storey building. I don't much like being watched, so I went inside to ask why whoever it was was watching me.
Inside the building, it was dark - the lights were not working correctly; it smelled of raw concrete walls and damp. There was an elevator in the middle of the stairwell, which not only had a bright light in it, but also maroon velvet covering around the inside. Despite its appearance, it refused to take me all the way to the top, which meant that I had to climb the rest of the way over half-built steps and rickety scaffolding in the flickering lights. Occasionally, I came past a window, which gave me a beautiful view of blue skies and birds flying past. I was obviously higher up than I thought, and much higher than the building had appeared from the outside.
Finally, I arrived at the top floor and found myself in a hallway opposite an ordinary grey door, which was not even locked. The rooms behind looked lived-in, though the furniture was old and shabby and put together as if from a flea market, with the occasional antique gleaming in a corner.
Walking through the rooms, I noticed that someone was trying to get my attention. Maybe now I would find out who had been watching me.
I turned around and saw myself in a mirror.
Then I woke up.

So, friend Freud, what do you make of that, then?
tysolna: (moon with rocket)
Today, I wanted to get a few bits of wallpaper off the kitchen walls, to put in the paper bin which gets taken away tomorrow. Just a few of the bigger ones, to get a bit of work done.
Hm, but the cupboard and the cabinet are in the way if I want to free that wall of paper, as well, and where's my screwdriver? Hey, it's fun to screw (thwaps all for naughty thoughts), I mean, unscrew screws and take things apart. So what if I only wanted to destroy the cupboard... let's empty the cabinet as well and - watch out, cat, don't swallow those screws! Or the nails, for that matter. Oh, so you want to play with the wallpaper? Come on, then!

The rest of the day deteriorated into a paper-ripping match between my mum, myself and the cat, who loved to hide underneath the bigger bits of wallpaper until I accidentally stepped on him. He then hid in the bathroom, shredding a roll of toilet paper instead. So in the end, what was intended to be an hour or two of getting the bigger bits of wallpaper off the walls and maybe doing the dishes has now left me with cold and empty pure stone kitchen walls and two less pieces of furniture.

The dishes, though, still need doing. Drat.
tysolna: (light fairy)
Until today, I thought I spoke pretty much run-of-the-mill Czech, or rather, Moravian, which is why the people I spoke to in Prague could guess where I was from, or rather, where my mother is from. Oh yeah, I should add that I grew up more or less bilingual.
Anyway, what I was not aware of is that there's more to my Moravian than I thought. There is apparently a very regional dialect involved, which gets spoken in the area my maternal family comes from. It is not as different to Czech as Low German is to German, but it is very noticeable. It is a lot softer, the vowels are less differentiated (it's mostly "o" or "e" when in czech there's an "ou", and similar), and words beginning with a vowel get a "v" put in front ("voko" instead of the correct "oko"), except of course when there is already a "v" in front of the vowel, because then it is dropped. The geographical closeness to Austria means that there are a lot of German words in that area, though Czechified (such as "hajzl", where correctly it would be "sáchod" or "toileta").
This is something I was sort-of aware of, but it really struck me today when mum read to me two versions of the same tale her great-grandfather used to tell. He was very much into horror stories, and scared generations of children with the tale of the Living Knees (don't ask). One version mum read was the correct Czech one, the other in that Dalesician dialect. We laughed a lot, but in the end, I liked the sound of "our" version better.
And what's more, I finally found out that the old family quote, "Kaně uchzáva, bude pršet" ("The screechowl is pissing, it will rain"), is the punch line in a horror story.
tysolna: (tysolna's avocado)
So dad's organizing another railway festival here, the third one. It will be in September, and there will be steam engines, and diesel engines, and historical trains, oh my.
What that means for the family is that dad sits in his room for most of the time, working away at the planning and organizing and using the phone a lot, and that we're fighting over internet access times again. Though I should not whine, since I once again get paid for doing the festival's website - which since the boss is sitting downstairs means that I work regardless of day or hour. But that's OK, unless I get cryptic emails asking me to update the page with something, and no further information - he's so close to the matter that he knows what he means, however, I am not a mind-reader.
I just hope this festival will again be a success, and I fervently hope he won't be asked to organize another one. It is very stressful for him. And for mum and me.

I have used a free wall in my room under the roof to hang up a huge strip of packaging paper, to write notes and thoughts on, so I can see them and maybe get them organized. The to-do list will follow later today.

There is still a lot of spam-mail reaching my account, even though I got the spamwasher from my provider. Today, a spam mail reaches me from a sender which made me chuckle: it was from Jensen Alexandria. Though I should probably explain here that a guy called Jensen is a friend's RP character in the Doctor Who RPG I lead, and that he was abducted by aliens in Alexandria. Sadly, the mail was the usual "We have this brilliant offer for you your-email-here!" - one. Such is real life.
tysolna: (Default)
... with a vengeance.
It's been snowing since last night, slowly at first, but steadily increasing. By now, eveything is under a thick layer of snow (and slush, on the roads), and I can't open my window unless I want an avalanche happening in my room.
All day, the lights have flickered, but since four o'clock, something has happened that I can't remember happening before, or at least, not that long: the electricity went down. For a few seconds at first, but then for increasing amounts of time, up to about half an hour, in the whole of our city.
Until now, my parents have always wondered why I have so many candles. It is fun to sit, with lights on, and have a candle burning. It is strange, though, to have to sit by candlelight because there is no electicity. Then it dawned on me: No electricity also means no heating, no warm water, no fridge, no TV or radio, etc etc. We are so dependent on the stuff, it's scary.
I'm going to buy more candles as soon as the weather allows me to go out.
tysolna: (Default)
Today, and the day before yesterday, we did our christmas baking, something we probably wouldn't have done if it weren't for my grandmother's birthday in two weeks' time, which mum and dad will travel to, taking most of the baked goods with them. We'll still need a day for the filling and decorating of cookies, as well as packing the things away so dad can't get at them.
There used to be a lot of baking going on at my grandmother's house, and not for fun or personal consumption, either: My grandfather was a baker, and my grandmother became one after they married. The house my grandmother lives in used to be the bakery (with house attached), which accounts for the sometimes strange architectural layout.
Every time mum and I bake, which is usually once a year for christmas, and maybe once for birthdays or assorted holidays, she tells me about growing up in a bakery. She remarked today that the rolling pin I was working with, and the little metal baking moulds she was filling once belonged to her grandmother, my great-grandmother, and that the recipes we were using were probably even older.
It seems the family spirit lives on in the kitchen.
tysolna: (Default)
Just booked the hotel for the London trip with Mum (November 8th-11th); she was getting worried that we'd be sleeping under a bridge somewhere. Which made me remember a friend of mine who, while visiting London, didn't sleep on his first night as he couldn't get into the hotel, but walked all around London through the night. Not something I'd care to experience any time soon, though he said it was fun.

This time around, I couldn't care less if the hotel has smoking areas. It's a non-smoking hotel, and I now consider myself a non-smoker. Until two weeks ago, I thought I was a smoker who currently didn't smoke, or at the very least smoked very little. The only time I did smoke was during band practice. Then came the gig on the 8th, and with it the usual nervousness, which was combatted unsuccesfully with tobacco, and after the gig the relaxed atmosphere, to which tobacco apparently contributed. All in all, I smoked more than half a pack of cigarettes that day.
And hooboy, was I sick the next two days. Dizzy, headachy, stomach upset, pale like the proverbial whitewashed wall. I was thoroughly poisoned. But that was apparently the cure I had needed, because I haven't touched a cigarette since, and haven't even felt the need or the craving for one, or even for my pipe (though that will make a certain Englishman very sad to hear). Seeing other people smoke doesn't make me want to join them. Our bass player thinks I will start again, but I don't think so.
Methinks I need to change my icon.
Still, I wonder what my next addiction will be. Knitting probably already is.
tysolna: (Default)
For all the curious people, here's what I did from Thursday, September 27, til Tuesday, October 4th, on my trip to the Czech Republic.

Cut for length. It is long. )
tysolna: (Default)
Back from a lot of driving, a lot of partying, a lot of meeting family again, a lot of speaking czech, a lot of not-caring-about-a-diet, and a lot of fun. Whee!
The instant I was back home after driving all day (and getting into an unholy amount of traffic jams in Bavaria), I had to grab my violin and go to rehearsals, as we're playing a gig on Saturday.
So, pictures and more detailed updates will have to wait until matters calm down a bit.
However, one thing's for sure: Among the many things I inherited from my dad is a love of driving, of travelling. He's just got a few decades more experience.

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tysolna: (Default)
tysolna

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