Wesolych Swiat

And so, we are home for Christmas! We moved back into our house last Thursday and I have spent the last week getting things back in order. We still do not have our bedroom back since we are waiting for the mattress and the furniture needs some attention but we are enjoying our stay in the guest room! I assure all future visitors that the bed is extremely comfortable, the sheets are soft and warm and of the highest quality and the room, in general, has a very inviting feel to it.

What has been especially wonderful for me has been being able to put up our first Christmas tree! It is a little small and dwarfish compared to most of the other trees in Chris' family but we love it and it suits our little cozy home.

I have also decided that since this is my first Christmas away from my family that there is no reason why our Polish traditions shouldn't live on and with gusto! And so, I have been baking traditional Polish cakes for Christmas and today I have started preparing some of the dishes for the ever-important Polish Wigilia. Wigilia is celebrated on Christmas Eve and in Polish culture we do not eat any meat that day and so you will not find any turkeys at the table. Instead traditional dishes include a wild mushroom soup, perogies, fried fish and several different varieties of herring, and in our house wild mushroom crepes, as well as all sorts of cakes. The wild mushroom soup is on the stove as we speak, and the perogies I made back in November and they are patiently waiting in the freezer to be pulled out and devoured. I am very excited to be hosting this dinner!! It will just be small, Chris, his parents and me, and the dogs too, but being able to do this is just very special to me because we are back in our house and because it is our first Christmas together. And being able to share my traditions and my culture with Chris and make it a part of our own traditions is especially meaningful.

Here it is, our first Christmas tree!!




Here are some samples of the baking that I have been doing. This poppy seed roll is not as perfect as my mom's always are, but since it was my first one I am still pretty proud.

For over a week now, Dianne has been practicing the two words, Wesolych Swiat. They make up the Polish way of saying "Merry Christmas" and she has been diligently practicing so that she can say it to my parents on Christmas Eve. I am very proud of her progress because typed here you cannot see the accents and Polish can be a pretty tricky language so she has improved quite a bit in the last week.

And I too, would like to wish you all a very Merry Christmas! May you find yourselves in the company of friends and family, enjoying the many marvels of the season and looking hopefully to the new year which will, no doubt, bring you all many wonderful new adventures and the opportunity to continually pursue your dreams! WESOLYCH SWIAT!!

Adventures in Magnetic Poetry

A Houseguest Under the Texan Sun

So because the repairs to our house are not yet completed (yes, I know, it is DECEMBER already!!) Dianne and I stopped by there on Wednesday night to check on the progress. Dianne had gone to the bedroom to check on how the walls were looking and I stepped out into the backyard to see what kind of progress there had been made on the roof. When you step out the back door there is a small covered patio that has a lattice on one side. The far corner of the lattice side of the covering there is a ledge that has acted as a bird shelter or rather cozy bed for two little sparrows for most of the summer and in our pre-hurricane life. But since we haven't been living in the house since the hurricane we weren't sure about whether our two little bird friends had survived the fierce storm. So on Wednesday when I opened the back door and saw one of our tiny tenants pressed into the ledge I was delighted. In some strange way it gave me a sense of normalcy, something that reminded of me of where we were before all this chaos.

I left the door open behind me and I walked out onto the deck, peering into the darkness trying to make out if any more shingles had been laid or if any work had been done on the fence. My inspection was not overly thorough but I was satisfied with the presence of lots of wood and workhorses strewn along the side of the house, these signifying that our work crew was in fact doing something. On my way back to the door I stopped and looked up at the sparrow who was curled into a puffy feathery ball and smiled and then, because I tendency to talk to animals (dogs, cats, squirrels, Herman our resident front door frog, birds etc.) I quietly whispered to my little tenant that it was nice to see him back and had his friend survived the storm. Well, this must have either startled the poor creature or reminded him of the horrible storm because he suddenly dove off the ledge startling me and instead of flying towards the trees in the yard he flew in straight through the open back door. For at least five seconds I just stood there frozen in shock not knowing what to do before I blindly charged in after him. I saw him fly through the kitchen and land on the armoire that holds our television.

"Dianne, there is a bird in the house!!"

"What? There's a what?" she called out from the bathroom.

"A BIRD! There is a bird in the house!" I yelled to her in a strained and high pitched voice.

"Oh my God! Are you sure?"

I had no time to respond to this question because at that moment the bird decided to make an effort to fly back through the kitchen where I was standing and presumably out the back door, which would have been fine by me. I practically threw myself onto the floor in a moment of great decorum as you can imagine, in hopes that on his way out the bird would not snag himself on my hair or shirt. Unfortunately the poor creature's progress was hindered by the low hanging light fixture in the kitchen which made him so nervous that he madly flapped at it and then quickly swooped back onto the top of the armoire. Granted my shrieks probably didn't help either.

"Yup, I'm sure Dianne!" I retorted and I quickly stepped into the laundry room which is just off the kitchen leaving the thinnest sliver of an opening through which I could peer out.

At this point Dianne had decided to be brave enough to step out of the hall bathroom asking where it was. Just as she opened the door our little friend made a second attempt at an escape. There was screaming and I heard the bathroom door slam shut again. Through my little sliver I had seen more flapping but then I very bravely shut the door again. I stood there like a true hero for another ten seconds wondering if I had given the little guy enough time to make his escape. Dianne called out to me from the bathroom. We both slowly emerged from our hiding places.

"Did it go out?" she asked me.

"I don't know, I was hiding in the laundry room" I shamefully admitted.

"Well I saw it fly towards the kitchen."

We looked around and did not see our the bird perched on any shelves or the amoire. Had it really flown out? We weren't really sure. I quietly snuck back to the door and closed it. Both of us stood there for a few minutes waiting for any additional action but there was none. We decided that the bird had made it to freedom so I picked up the keys and we started shutting off all the lights and moving towards the door.

As Dianne opened it and stepped out I heard the sound of flapping from the armoire again. Our duet of shrieks echoed through the neighborhood. Dianne made a mad dash for the end of the walk and I dropped to the ground crouching as low as possible. But I didn't feel any rush of air past me or hear the flap of wings any closer. I looked back in the room and saw the bird sitting on my coffee table. I pressed myself back against the wall outside hoping that without me standing in the doorway he would feel courageous enough to fly through the open door, this one much closer than the back door and without as many obstacles. I stood there for a minute, looking at Dianne trying to decided what to do. Could I leave this bird in my house overnight? This was insanity, how could this bird have been so stupid as to fly into my house and why was it now being so stubborn in getting out?

In a sudden moment of heroism and determination I slipped off my heels at the front door and snuck back in the house. I looked around cautiously hoping to shoo it off the coffee table but it had disappeared. I was hoping that it wasn't sitting on the couch. I ran to the laundry room and grabbed a towel, elegantly draping it over my head. I inched towards the back of the couch and peered over but I couldn't see anything. I pulled the towel off my head and threw it towards the couch, hoping that the movement would startle the bird if he was sitting there. Nothing happened. I tried looking around but I didn't see anything. Finally I decided that I couldn't stay there all night waiting for the bird to surface again.

I locked up the house and we drove back to Dianne's house. On the way home it suddenly hit me that I might have thrown the towel right on the poor bird effectively smothered it. My heart sank. I spent the rest of the night convincing myself that I hadn't killed it.

The next morning Chris called to tell our workmen that there was probably a bird in the house. I was so relieved when they said that they had seen it early in the morning when they came in but they hadn't seen it since. There has not been any mention of any bird activity in the past few days and so I feel that it is safe to assume that our houseguest managed to sneak out an open door at some point. Though of course I haven't actually asked if there have been any more sightings and for all I know he may have made himself a comfortable little home in our armoire and is just waiting for me to return. But I hope not because there isn't any food in the house or water and I would hate to be dusting one day and find a bird carcass.

Luckily for us though, Herman our resident front door frog was not here for the action because had he hopped into the house and added to the mix it would have been additionally distressing. But as of now we are not sure that Herman survived the storm though a few days before the bird incident we did hear a familiar croaking in the bushes.

I do feel though that this was in a way my own "Under the Tuscan Sun" moment, or rather an Under the Texan Sun moment. My mother has assured me that this is a good luck sign and I, too, am willing to believe this, though maybe because these are superstitions that I grew up with. But still, as a good luck sign perhaps this will bode well for our future in the house and for a swift return. I long to be the one fluttering around our house doing chores, reading, writing, cooking and just really living in our home. Wish me luck!