The fudginess of a smile

What does a potato have to do with confectionery? Hopefully nothing, unless one has a crazy mother who specialises in purée poured over with chocolate sauce (however, not all that combines meat with a sweet flavour is bad and I can fully recommend turkey with cranberry sauce).
And what does the potato holiday have to do with sweets? Hopefully a lot! I guess there's no need to explain it to true-born Poles that Poznań is (in)famous (?) for potatoes and every year Poznań dwellers celebrate the days of Poznań with tones of baked potatoes stuffed with white cheese and chives.


However, it is seemly to explain that I am... I have been a citizen of Poznań for a few months now (although it still feels like three months only and this is what I say to every newly- acquainted person... and so does Christobal). This is how I landed up in Łęgi Dębińśkie. It is worth mentioning that we travelled twice as long as we stayed there as Chritopher believed he knew Poznań better than I did (not this time, my dear... not this part of the capital of Wielkopolska, at least).
Anyway, we turned up at the concert of Myslovitz quite unexpectedly. Not that somebody expected us. It's just we didn't expected ourselves to be there, to wander this much, this long and this stubbornly and persistently.
Tired (both physically and mentally), resigned and NOT at all hungry, we considered a stall with fudge a refuge. It was my first time I had seen so many candies in one place and so great a variety of sweets. This is what the heaven looks like after a long, lonely hike. We chose our favourite and paid too much but I must say, with fugde melting in my mouth Myslovitz sounded much better. It is really hard to judge then, which was a bigger attraction of the evening ;)


How foolish of me it was to believe the fudgy kingdom is 'assembled' just for this one particular occasion. Apparently the fudge-makers were specialties representatives of The Posen Region and I had the pleasure of meeting them again at Bethlehem-like Fair in the town square (www.poznan.pl). That was also the first time I had tasted oscypek (oh! Be English on your English blog!) Ekhm! I meant smoked ewe's milk cheese made in the Tatra Mountains... (neat! ;D). Tasty but not fudgy enough ;)

Home Plumish Home

Why do I like my home? Because home sweet home ;)
And it's true what they say, that one is more appreciative once they miss sth and are on the verge of forgetting the voice of the closest ones.
So yes, I went back home for the whole looooong two days and I may already say I felt like a stranger there (a new fancy fountain in the centre of a park and street plates had nothing to do with it ;)), which made the journey way, way more exciting.
The moment I crossed the threshold... pierogi ;D

space for explanation -> My mum is not an empathic listener (I sometimes wonder whether she is a listener at all ;)) and whenever somebody veers off towards a topic she doesn't understand/like/care about, she feels perfectly ok to impose on a speaker the subject she knows in quite abrupt a manner. Start talking about politics and she will tell you about how hard it is to dry the laundry in winter;, tell her about your problems with Internet access and she will confide in you she can't get rid of the pain in her left eye; start talking about your job and she will all of a sudden feel like... PIEROGI ;)


In fact, this time pierogi were what I needed. I brought a jar of berries with me to make some well-sealed dumplings. Why does a girl travel a hundred kilometres with a handful of berries?
a) she has no flour at her second home
b) she has no time
c) she wishes to have sth to pore over with her mum
d) she wants to please her boyfriend ;)
What does a girl's mother say to that?
a) she laughs at her daughter and the aount of berries ;)
b) she gives her money to buy some more fruit
c) she is glad she can 'help' and make the best dough ever
d) she talks pierogi (soon the expression should appear in Macmillan ;))

Since there were no berries for me to buy (not even frozen ones) I had to resort to plums, which eventually turned out to be better as far as filling is concerned (with Christovan as the one-man jury ;)).

On the house

What do I like my new (temporary) job for? It pleases my stomach and helps me to economise expenses. No matter whether I feel like a cod fillet, pancakes, a saute, a camembert coated with breadcrumbs served with a cranberry sauce... just need to go over the menu and point it out to one of the boys. Though it is better to turn to the right boy ;) It is not that I devour every dish I can't afford at home (oh, shit! may say now I have a new home... have I grown up already? ;)) and that I enter the restaurant with Mr. Hunger trailing behind and, thus, feeling perfectly ready to jump at whatever is freshly cooked/boiled/fried/roasted the moment I'm at the threshold... although I do think about a scoop of ice cream. (if there are chocolate, rum or dried fruits in stock I am tempted to take three... so far I have never won te battle with temptation ;))


Swiss cutlet - one of my favourites

But let's go back to 'healthy' = proper food. In general, I tend to try everything (there was a thought to stick to a Greek salad with extra chicken for a sec, however) except for meals I know I wouldn't be able to swallow for various reasons - too fat, to starchy, too gross (e.g. black pudding aka. back bloody sausage, the whole truth about which I have discovered recently... yuck! ;/). Funny and suprisingly enough, there is never a this-thing-is-too-big issue. I have got hungry Christovan at home, after all ;) Therefore, feel welcome to ask for the biggest portion even and make use of take away boxes.

Greek lady

So this is how I manage to survive and how it's dawned on me (though the moon hasn't set totally and probably won't) that peanuts, apples, tea and cereals (crazy me!) are not really that trendy. This is how my love towards meat has been developing for a few weeks now. Well-prepared, perfectly-served, skilfully-wrapped and FREE! ;)
This is how I avoid instant soups, ready-made sauces with blissfully overboiled pasta, and stealing others' bread when all of a sudden I realise that have run out of my own ;)
This is how I taste (or should I say 'sample'? ;p) the dishes so that later on I can either recommend or advise somebody against it. Theoretically, of course since I would never tell the truth. Yet, I am not a bad waitress... I do not spit in clients' soups ;)

Lord(s) of the flies in exile

Provided, a conscious decision and a move on request can be ranked as an exile. A refugee from the 21st century. Except for the first few days:
* when I couldn't find an easy crossing to the other side of the street (damn Rondo Kaponiera!)
* when we had no spoons, knifes, forks and toilet paper ;)
* when I was snowed under with a tone of Xerox copies, books, scans, books, notes and even more books (fortunatelly, there is something to show for my effort)
* when I was overwhelmed with prices of sausages, pork loin, butter and penauts
* when I realised I had forgotten to take with me things which all of a sudden appeared to be soooo useful and necessary
* when I was given hope and then the same hope crumpled when I saw where the #85 bus the #1 tram took me and a good-looking restaurant I pictured in my head turned into a kind of a tin eating-house
Yes, so except for all these, Poznań charged me with positive emotions and it still has been good at it.
What I am trying to say (mincing my words terribly) is that one's own mug is a very crucial thing in one's own life. One really does not appreciate enough the value of his or her mug until he or she is forced to do so (Do I sound like Holden Caulfield??).

With the view of Tesco and a bit of Poznań

I brought two mugs with me; however, the one which means a lot to me (I am sentimental) is not extremely photogenic, is a bit too plain and its flaws were brought out once we felt like trying out a dishwasher (yes, we all come from a village and we go crazy whenever we see a dishwasher ;)). It will not be displayed for the reasons above mentioned.
On the contrary, the one I am presenting is quite representative (besides a little crack which is inside and tries to get outside). I was given it about two years ago and since that time I have used it just up to 10 times, which is an example of disappreciation. It was not until the move that I made friends with Czesio and his two roles, namely Robin Hood and Robocop, which is an example of a successful appreciation. Although it is quite a drink-enhancer, especially when it comes to a cocoa drink, what matters the most is that it is mine... my very own mug in a very not-own, unknown, new zone.


I don't know about Robocop but I am almost certain that Robin Hood was an exile or, at least, he had some exile issue.

Drive me (pea)nuts ;)

Peanuts here, peanuts there... peanuts everywhere

My artistic gift has gone to the dogs. Artistic performance doesn't reflect my artistic competence at all. I really could do better, but do I care? (Am I bothered? ;D) No, not really. For recently, the focus was transferred from Arts to Grammar and from emotions to intellect. All in all, my afflatus is gone. So let's move on to what matters today and what made me log in, namely peanuts.
If one may inherit affection for peanuts I definitely did it. I used to like them only (just like my mother, who is the inheriter*), but gradually I fell in love and this is how the student surpassed the master. I am an inheritee* of peanutove (excuse the blending... I am in the middle of studying for my bachelor's examination)

* I love the way English 'bends'


Basically, peanuts are indispensable. You could do with salt sticks, spicy crisps or snacks, but - delicious as they might be (and I do like them, too!) - those would be just substitutes... So whenever there is a mug of beer, a glass of wine, a glass of spritish wine or winish sprite (depends on how much I can drink and get drunk on a given day), there must be peanuts. Usually I buy a 400-gramme packet just in case, just to feel secure and make sure I will not run out of them ;) But sometimes, despite all safety precautions, I do run out of me dearly beloved beer-enhancers... what do I do then? I guess, I do not remember the moment clearly ;) and I am so full that one peanut more could make me sick.
Peanuts are even better than I previously thought as they present a metaphorical meaning. The most loveable comic strip illustrated by Charles M. Schulz. Innocent, pure, funny and fetching characters make me believe in forces of Good again. I am the one of these ;)

Never late for caffe latte

Though, it is too late to retreat. Two years have passed by in no time. Never have I managed to stay with anybody for that long (or is it a matter of whether they could not put up with me...? how come?). One way or another, I have a box of 'Jacquot Truffes: Chocolatier Depuis 1920' (admire my French) and again they will be consumed gradually... one by one, although they seem to kind of come out, brave bastards. And I must admit, I would never ever buy it myself... I don't have that amount of money to spare on sweets... I am perfectly fine with a low-budget dark chocolate, really ;)

With Matasek under it... let him enjoy ;)

But this is really a delight which, I guess, I can afford every two years ;D Coffee-flavoured truffles ain't my favourite, though. And Macmillan told me they usually have alcohol in them and these do not! (take it easy, Lizzy). Also, its calorific value is not given... Am I bothered? ;D Not the slightest bit. 'A truffle a day, makes you experience a bit of May' (which, BTW, we were not bound to see)

the one with my dental imprint

Long live... (he's long dead)... R.I.P. The French "Sun King", Loius XIV!

Oh, there is also a rose on the kitchen table; yet, I cannot it thaaaat ;)

Under the weather and under the duvet

Apparently April is the best time of the year for me to go down with upper airways inflammation and bronchitis. I hate my innate timing (as if it wasn't enough that I have difficulty with timing during the lessons... greetings to the kids). And the irony of fate didn't disappoint me this time, either as tests are mushrooming and I will either miss them just in order to have fun alone later on or I will leave my warmy bed and move the ass to the college in a smelly bus which will probably give me quite an impressive 'package of viruses'.

My army

Suffice it to say, I hate being ill and I hate staying in bed. I hate being lazy. It is not that I love working my guts out but it is against the nature to stay in bed during the day.. if only I had a laptop on my lap. (wow! I have just discovered the etymology of the word laptop.. it is a LAPtop, isn't it? A thing on top of your lap ;D) Then, I could do soooo much more! In the present situation, there is nothing left for me but read (I wonder how I can do with if I want my hands to be hidden under the duvet), write (this is even a bigger 'quest'), sleep (here I can really dive into bed)... How long can I put up with this vegetation? I guess the earlier I start, the earlier I finish... so it's time I heated the bed and if you are a handsome dark-hair man feel invited ;D

Shamanic She - SHEesha

You won't feel it, unless you try it. I was sceptic myself (what a self-conceited doubting Thomas I am) and before I took the first fag, I had seen it as an unnecessary whim. Now I can certainly act as an inducer. If you haven't tried it as yet, try it... If you have than buy another box of honeydew tobacco and... smile ;) Honey and dew speak for themselves - honey on the lips and dew in the lungs.


Nothing else can make the taste of beer better and no beer can make the taste of her worse. Absolutely harmless (speaking from my own experience... I used to be perfectly able to pass out after a cigarette), absolutely tasty whatever flavour you choose. Remember to light it properly, though. Absolutely attractive and comercial-and-movie-like. To the best of my recollection, only Snoop Doggy Dog has created so smoky atmosphere so far. Now you can do it as well. At home, at hand, close in time and close in space. And if you wish, this may be your private fog machine (verbatim / figuratively*) ;D (reference: 'One Flew over the Cuckoo's Nest') But I do not insinuate anything. I am just under the influence of Kesey and under the influence of sheen of sheesha.

* an unnecessary option to be crossed out