Friday 30 December 2016

Cookies

... It's been a while, so we got something for everybody. Across the board :D Chocolate, vanilla, spicey with lingon berries... In versions of cement, charcoal, spoon needed, or just crunchy enough :D







Tuesday 27 December 2016

Wanted to do this... comparison... of two beautiful cookbooks I got for Yule

... there is another one, a third book by Mladinska knjiga (at least one that I saw these past few days while browsing as a fan of beautiful books), which I will add once I get my hands on it. The first one is by K.Košir, MyDailyBread, and the second one is by Lidl store chains, titled Tomaž... Side by side comparison.

published 2014 - published 2016

The lovely B&W intro with a nice, personal photo side

The full-page dim B&W photo of the creative process...

The beautiful black base over-one-page size photo and text

The beautiful light setting of a retro serving and cute text in two fonts

The other adorable light shot-from-above servings with a touch of homey

And even more 'old times, eighties' vibe to a cushy home-made food

Minimalistic, bright shots and cute text

Cute geometric setting of bubbly round things on a darker background...


.. and so on.
Seriously, is it just me? There are times when you can hardly tell the photos apart. 

Monday 26 December 2016

St.Stephen's hunt

Really pretty day today; a very Sunday-like Monday.. If my phone battery didn’t die in the cold, Instagram would have a lot more to say about it. We ascended high enough (Traditional St. Stephen’s hunt) for the tress to be completely covered in frost, the sky perfectly blue and when the sun rose, orange, it melted the lot into this whispering, tickling forest brown.
The best part of the hunt (unfortunately they guys did manage to finally get one boar), was when five trackers cornered another wild hog in a minute patch of young spruces on a very steep slope. They tried sending in the dogs, but we only had young hounds, one of which was already poked by a boar earlier and wasn’t going to chance the second round. Two hunters went into the patch, throwing stones and logs, shouting. I muttered into my walking cane (I always make myself a cane, because the terrain is otherwise only fir for moving on all fours - up or down): “Lesnik (The local God of forests), if you make this one work out alright, I’ll owe you one.”
Lesnik replied: “I’ll take a snog.”
I kissed my walking cane and said: There. Now solve this.
The hunter finally managed to throw a log, hitting the boar directly, and the 400 – pound beast leaped, charged – and vanished.
I fuck you not. There was no breaking of trees and branches, leaves flying, screaming, shooting. There was just half a second of forest noise, hunters shouting – and nothing. How an animal of that size is able to break out of a circle that prepared is uncanny. Supposedly it charged my way, but I saw absolutely nothing. Lyra was sitting next to me, we were at a safe distance, and she didn’t react at all.

Really, I’m telling you. Totally worth the kiss. 

Sunday 25 December 2016

New books

The General and my parents bought me new books as prezzies and the one G got me was the most beautiful book I've seen in along time - love at first right, which I wouldn't be able to afford on my own. It's called My Daily Bread and it's by a guy named Klemen Košir. He self-published it in 2013, winning the 'most beautiful Slovenian book' award in 2014 and then again the next year with his other self-published book and so on... meanwhile the major national publishing house stole his entire concept and created a magnificent (same, really) book of it's own, which is on my lits, and the food chain Lidl made theirs as well, of the identical format, so that one - this is the one parents gave me - is very beautiful as well. the main theme of all there is taking photos of food preparation from straight up directly down, and arranged with these gritty, old, worn details, old tables, old tools, old pottery and so on... 
Another gift that came into this household yesterday was a small enamel red pot with white dots on it, which i want to serve G's food in, but I'll need a nice wooden spoon for it, as you can't eat from a metal dish with a metal spoon... Instagram site offer by this guy is exactly what i'm after, but locally...






Saturday 24 December 2016

We learn something new every day :D
I haven’t really reported on our date the other day, how lovely it had been – we went to the capital to see the Museum of modern history and the Ethnological museum, which is taking the top rank of my favourite one, because it is so very beautiful. The director of it was the third person in the past three days to come up to me to shake my hand and ask ‘sup?. The first one was a lady in the bookstore, wishing me the holidays, remarking it’s been a while (they haven’t seen me in a few weeks and they noticed.) We talked about this beautiful book I fell madly in love with upon the first sight, which, guess who is getting for Yule. (Old Man Frost, a Yugoslavian alternative to Christmas.)
                Anyhoo, for all the wonderful thing that I’ve been experiencing, there was a small negative, which is where our story comes in. It’s about my tummy. Since it’s cold as fuck and I’ve been having my period, meaning my immune system is retarded, sometime during our adventures, I began to feel my bladder. Not one of those horrific infections where I go from normal to weeping with pain, pissing blood – just… feeling it, like stuck nut in my groin. So, G brought me some Ursi tea (bearberry, goldenrods, smooth rupturewort, peppermint, bitch) from the pharmacy and it says on the instructions that if you have a sensitive tummy, don’t boil the tea, just leave it in cold water overnight. I think, haha, funny tea, my tummy being sensitive? I’ve been known to at velociraptors and full grown trees without a burp.
                Turns out, after two cups of warm Ursi, the ENTIRETY of my stomach membrane burnt like a biiiitch, the cavern of it tense in heavy, really having reacted to the tea.
                I did not know that.
                That my stomach is sensitive.
                Now I know.



                Bladder better, tho.

Friday 16 December 2016

#drobTinka raw goodies workshop

I KNOW I've been ages behind, I KNOW. On top of having comp problems, I've also had the General home for a fortnight, which diverted my attention from selfish uptakes, such as promoting my own wonderful existance on blogs and suchlike, to lots and lots and lots of kissing and coffee dates. Meanwhile, Tinka had a workshop in this adorable teeny tiny town of Braslovče, which also has a brand new library. It was awesome!










Friday 25 November 2016

Sapir–Whorf hypothesis: what "Arrival" just gave me

I did not know that such a thing as "linguistic relativity" exists. I mean, I did, I just didn't know it does. How did I not think of this before? This shit is amazing. 


Wednesday 23 November 2016

Holy bloody fuck that was traumatic



Anticlimactic, but traumatic. You know you’re in trouble when you have your first anxiety attack when you can’t find your first-needed anti-anxiety medication…
            And for the better part of the process I was okay, too, up until the last hour before. I’ve been taking downers for three days, along with the painkillers and soft food. It was just the last shower that freaked me out and I got incredibly angry at G, blaming him for all kinds of unrelated shit. That man has compassion of a fucking pint-sized Nutella jar. He brought me some food and when I refused to get off the bed, he dragged me off, re-assembling me, making me dress, getting me in the car, holding my hand or my finger. I was in SUCH a deep dark place. So scared. Numb, practically; I kept pulling my cap down over my eyes so as not to see anything, and hugging my bag.
            You know professionals worry you will be a mess when they schedule you last for the day. They remembered me just fine and were not happy about me. But the nurse was very nice; she even asked how my grandmother is doing. Once they got me to open my mouth and inject painkiller and more or less (I hope) found the problem, then it was less awful. The doctor figured the decay corroded one of the teeth and it chipped – mechanical damage, not an infection – so he ground the damaged bits off and ultimately managed to apply a mould to lay the filling. He admitted that for my first visit to the dentist to have this shitty procedure done was not the ideal scenario, but it really wasn’t terrible at all. The General stood in the door the whole while, talking to the nurse or just remarking things, as his voice is incredibly soothing, and I kept my eyes shot the whole while, because every time I blinked, I could see the dentist’s visor cowered in water, spit, blood, enamel and bits of filling sawdust.
            I always assume it’s the wrong tooth, though. Not to mention I think we woke up the beast (my upper left 6th), and it’s just a matter of time before that one wants its turn. In the end, after we were done and the nurse remarked I did great and was a bit warm (completely red in the face) I told them to just leave me here, napping in the chair.
            It was cool. The whole thing, it was nothing compared to the way the previous dentist treated me. Certainly, there were hurtful things, like a grown man trying to cram both his hands into my very small mouth, or all those suction hooks pinching my lips, but all in all, it was nothing to cry about.
           Fuck I’m glad that’s over. I’ve been calling everyone I know like I’ve just gone through a heart transplant or something. G was soaked through and all he had to do was stand in the door. I’ll drink some of My Maja’s coconut milk now and try to eat some noodles (can’t feel half of my face), then pass out. The entirety of this day was only about the damn filling.

Monday 21 November 2016


I am so sleepy I can't even focus on porn...

The worst



Blewh. Been taking two painkillers and one anti-anxiety med every a couple of hours, JUST to prepare myself for a visit to the dentist’s office… Problem is, though the anxiety and the pain are now … well, tolerable, manageable, I am NOT able to cope without self-medication. Especially the anxiety part. The pills I take are so strong I am stoned to butterflies one minute, then I pass out and sleep for hours the next. It is so far the only thing we could think of. I am too afraid of dentists. My last visit 12 or so years ago was too traumatic. And this guy that we are going to, guy I tried going to few months back, he was nice. I think. I cried for half an hour, hiding under the chair. We didn’t get anything done. I rather had the teeth ache. This time the tooth is broken, though, and I am not able to eat or even swallow properly. If I thought I can wait until it fixes itself, I would. But it isn’t working.
Of course a million people go to dentists every day. Mine isn’t even such a big procedure, it’s just a chipped tooth in need of patching. (I’d have had the damn thing pulled, but I worry the adjacent two would collapse without it and this would only make matters worse in the long run… of course with my luck, the whole damn thing will explode and then they will NEED to pull it… Oh, fuck it, just stop. Stop.) I am making SUCH a big deal out of it, it’s depressing everybody.
Hence the heavy medication. Dunno. Maybe I’m just such an egomaniac that I think my teeth can only be fixed by a master dentist with near genius level of skill. That teeth like mine have never existed before. That nobody has ever had such problems with them.  But I’m nearing the age my mother had all of hers removed and replaced and mine are all still here.. (Most.)
Either way. It’s all just in my head. Not BRAIN surgery, but ... Thank the Gods for prescription drugs.

Friday 18 November 2016

Sorry I've been ignoring you, lately, dear blog. Been trying to learn how to embroidee beads, but in truth, all I do is work on Goose..

72 pages of final editing in...
How I love sexually harassing my own literary characters. :D

PS I also sneezed so hard I cracked one of my own teeth. Pro level sneezing that is.

PPS And when I'm not writing about them, I am drawing them :) Passions, y'know? :D

The paper pagan + buttons

The witch + a random dragon

The General + 20.000 Quills 2 (spaceship)

The demon

The lover + bow

The paladin + principles

The paramour

The philosopher

The maiden mother + a random Oneir

The banner + random Zurnizip token

The story warden + a red string

The king and his broken teeth...

Sunday 13 November 2016

General's line of the week (okay, more mine this time…)


G: I have the exact route planned out, so don’t ask me where we are going at every turn, alright?
Me: What?... I’m not even listening to you. My mind is completely elsewhere…
[Two minutes of driving in silence later.]
G: Well? 
Me: Well?
G: What are you thinking about?
Me: What?
G: You said you were thinking about something else. What was it?
Me: No, I said my mind is somewhere else. I didn’t know where it was and so I went looking for it.

..
O.o

Monday 31 October 2016



Great hunt yesterday (perfect, since nobody caught anything, yay) but I think it’s safe to say it was the hardest terrain yet. We had only three dogs, so the four of us who were in the chase had to climb over tremendous patches of blackberry growth, often causing us to get stuck and require use of machetes. Well, I don’t carry a machete and if you need me to stress further how densely knit the thorny vines were: even my dog refused to go first. At some point I lost balance and fell off a rotten stump of a tree, my thick woolly sweater catching the thorns, gripping me so hard I began to worry. Surely the wild boars whom we were chasing must have thought: Guys, just ignore her, she’s zero threat to us…, but if I did by a small chance walk into a pack of boars and that was how they would find me, I would have been killed in a minute and very brutally. The General even found an empty boar nest. But, apart from the threat of imminent slaughter from the things we were hunting and irony (and any time I go along we catch nothing, which I why I go along), the terrain was magnificent, the forest was beautiful and the slopes were so steep we spent most of the time either sliding down very fast or climbing up on all fours. I was so tired by the end I dragged my walking stick and my feet and just kept walking down a path until I got lost. After we got to the cars the General hitched a ride with a colleague to get our own and I stuck around near an old monastery ruin, charring with a young gay cook who worked in the oldest known pub in the country, attached to the monastery. Tired like dogs, Starbark and I sat down in the sun, on a small wooden bridge, and basked, almost napping. I didn’t bring enough water, so my head hurt a little bit, though nothing like what my hands were like – hundred little cuts, like I’ve been whipped by Lilliputians. A day later I’ve taken out most of the thorn, but they’ve began scabbing, which ITCHEEEES like crazy. Another 1:0 for the forest Vs. stupid hunters :D