TO VIEW MORE RECENT ENTRIES GO TO www.kayraplenovich.com
***************************************************************

CHRISTMAS 2008

Christmas was peaceful this year. I couldn’t wear shoes, so I couldn’t go anywhere. After the surgery my foot is healing beautifully, but shoes are cursed things!! So I lounged on the sofa, foot in the air reading books, watching movies and enjoying the Christmas tree. After two weeks of this life of resting I went to get my hair cut and I couldn’t believe how relaxed I looked in the disgustingly huge mirror lit with florescent lights. I haven’t looked this young and rested in 20 years. A life of leisure suits me.

Sveta Gora Nativity


Christmas was spent singing in Sveta Gora. After 4 years in this freezing church I have learned to layer with wool, wrap in scarves, double gloves and jump up and down when ever appropriate. I have also learned some of the traditional songs and I can even sing parts of them from memory in Slovene. It is a very good feeling.

"Holy Family at Sveta Gora"


**********************************************************************************

WINTER SOLSTICE



We went to the Santuary of Madonna di Castelmonte [Stara Gora] for the winter solstice. Even though this mountaintop shrine is a religious monastery and the Cappuccini Friars might frown on acknowledgment of the pagan, it was a top of the world location to watch the shortest day of the year turn into the cold of night. Ancient Slovene tradition was to burn bon fires on the winter solstice because the fires and their warmth kept the life of the old sun Svarog from dying before the new sun Svarožic was born out of the longest night of the year, and they were also supposed to save the soil from freezing deeply in the winter. During the dark days people also feared attack from wolves, the wild man o f the night [ponocni mož], the woman from the mountain cave [Zlata baba] and other mysterious creatures. Even after Christianity became the dominant faith the fear changed to devils, and witches roaming during the long nights of a cold winter. We saw no bon fires, but as the burja wind can rise to over 100 miles per hour it is easy to imagine that the sharp blade of the wind along with the haunting sounds could conjure up the belief in many things to fear in the darkness.

Solstice sunset


Castelmonte rises high above the Friulian plain and has been a pilgrimage site since the 1100’s and a strategic point of protection of Friuli for centuries. In 1913 the Cappuccini monks were given guardianship of the shrine that was then attacked by German forces in November 1943. The church is a blend of the ancient with the painted dark skinned stone Madonna from the 13th century to the front façade and interior front walls that must have been rebuilt after the bombing with a style of the times. From the monastery the view is to the Adriatic Sea, the Dolimiti and Julian Alps and across the flat plains of Friuli. When the tourists are gone it must be the perfect place to meditate on the wonder of the creation. There are so many majestic hill top views in this area and I never tire of watching in silent meditation.

Castlemonte crosses


The Cappuccini monks wear dark brown hooded robes and the drink of the same name, cappuccino, is so called because the spike of foam is shaped like the hood [cappuccio] and the color of the coffee and milk mixture is the same color as the robe. Some even credit Marco d’Aviano an itinerate Cappuccin monk for discovering the drink, but that is probably just a tall tale unless he took his steam milk machine on the road with him. He is historically credited with gathering Protestants and Catholics to join together in stopping the invasion of Vienna by the Ottoman Turks in 1683. Supposedly following the victory the Viennese found sacks of strong infidel Turkish coffee left by the retreating army and since it was too strong for their refined tastes they diluted it with cream and honey, named it after a monk in a brown robe and convinced the whole world to drink it. But don’t drink it in Italy in the afternoon. Milk after a meal is not good for your stomach so just plain espresso is what you drink following a meal. Ordering a cappuccino after a meal is a sure sign of “tourist”, but pronunciation may have hinted “non local”.
Sources:

http://www.cappuccinivenezia.org/castelm

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/world/europe/2979993.stm

**********************************************************************************


HOSPITAL STAY

The tall pink and blue building is the Šempeter hospital - on a clear day you can see Italy and the mountains.


On December 11 I had surgery on my foot. I had a node [or a horn as my doctor called it] on the top of my right foot at the big toe due to osteoarthritis [like a bunion]. The condition has been progressing nicely over time, but when we returned to Slovenia it seemed to become more pronounced and the pain became unbearable. The problem of course is shoes. When I am barefoot [as the Creator made me] or in sandals [to protect myself from broken glass] I had no difficulties, but shoes are the Devil’s tool and it got to the point that even my 25 year old hiking boots that are the most comfortable shoes I have ever owned could not come with in a mile of this foot. My plan was to have the surgery when we returned to Ohio in the spring but going barefoot in the winter, even in a Mediterranean climate, is not a reasonable thing.

I didn’t want to have surgery here because of language. My Slovene is really [and I mean really] not that good that I can discuss carving my foot with someone who doesn’t speak English. I mean, really it is hard enough to get a US doctor to give needed information in a language that I can understand and I think we speak the same language, so the thought of having surgery here when translation was the common language was just too frightening. The second reason was “socialized medicine”. I am a product of my culture that tells me that the US health system is the best, and I have heard all my life how terrible socialized medicine is. And even though I am a fervent believer in free universal health coverage for all American citizens I have been brainwashed to believe that truly the best care for my hurtin’ foot was at home. So it made sense that if I could choose I would have the surgery done in the US, but I was not able to walk!!!! So let me give you the real story of my experience and dispel some of the myths of universal health coverage…..

MYTH #1 YOU CAN’T CHOOSE YOUR OWN DOCTOR – Bob had a terrible cold the first year and took some days off from school, but to get paid when not teaching you must have a doctors statement stating that you should take time off from work [and in our experience doctors are highly preventative and encourage people to stay home and heal rather than work themselves to death]. He asked the secretary at school to recommend a doctor and he went to Dr. Maja Klemenc at the clinic across the street from the school. They had a great conversation in English, she gave him permission to stay home until he regained his voice and he has gone to her again for the same annual beginning of the school year condition. When I needed a doctor I asked the secretary to call the same doctor for me. I got an appointment immediately. At her office I signed a paper that designated that I was choosing her for my doctor and now she is my doctor. The choice was not different than moving to a new town and choosing a doctor by asking a friend for a recommendation, and was actually easier than when we moved to Ashland. When we first moved there, no doctors in town were taking new patients and so we had to drive 30 minutes to another town to find a doctor who was willing to take us.

MYTH #2 YOU HAVE TO WAIT A LONG TIME FOR TREATMENT – Qualifying statement: I admit from the beginning that my situation may be a little different because I am a foreigner and the doctors have become our friends. When I requested the first appointment I wanted to make it for the following week. The nurse in the office recommended that I come that very day [Wednesday] because this was on my foot and she didn’t want me to have more difficulties. Wow!! After the doctor looked at the foot she agreed to consult with our mutual friend and surgeon Dr. Igor Pavlin that same day and I needed to return the next day to see what they had agreed upon. The next day when I stuck my head in her office door she saw me, called me into her personal office, and told me to go on Friday to the hospital to see Igor while he was on duty.

On Friday I went to the hospital, Igor looked at the foot, sent me to x-ray, showed me the x-ray, took out his hospital calendar book and scheduled me for the following Thursday. Just like that!

Before the surgery I needed blood work and an ECG. Monday I went to Maja’s office, she told me to come back to her office on Wednesday morning. Wednesday the nurse [whose English is about as good as my Slovene] took my blood with the most gentle prick I have ever felt, I returned in the afternoon after the blood work was completed!!! and had an ECG in the office. I took all the results with me when I went to the hospital the next day.

MYTH #3 THE QUALITY OF CARE IS POOR - I have never had surgery like this and I take no medication so I can’t compare this experience with too many others, but Bob has had both of his hips replaced and he has spent a lot of time with doctors and in the hospital. I had blood drawn, shots, anesthesia, medication, an incision, and an overnight hospital stay. Every aspect was the most professional. The shots were gentle, the incision is clean and healing beautifully with no infection or swelling, the anesthesiologist offered me three options and together we chose the lighter general so that I did not have to have a tube over my vocal chords or a spinal. I woke up from the surgery with almost no pain, none of the hallucinations I have had with past anesthesia and I have suffered from no post surgery stress. It was recommended that I stay in the hospital over night and if I needed to I could have stayed longer. In addition they did not wake me up every two hours to take my vitals; instead if I was asleep they let me sleep. Plus they sent me home with documents that told me my diagnosis and test results and the procedures that were performed [some of these I can even read]. Compared to the care that Bob received at the “world renowned Cleveland Clinic” after his first hip replacement this was a visit to a health spa. Bob had a leaky catheter that I had to fix myself and clean up the spill because no one would come in response to his call button, each shift of nurses had a different opinion on whether he should wear the pulsing socks to prevent blood clots, his food was placed out of his reach when he was not allowed to get out of bed, his room was not cleaned for the weekend and we got him out of there as fast as we could so that he didn’t contract anything else. His surgery was fabulous, but the hospital care was very

MYTH #4 THE FACILITIES ARE POOR – The biggest difference between this Slovene hospital and US hospitals I have visited or stayed in is that here there are no fountains in the lobby [actually there is no lobby really], there is no original art work on the wall, the building is not new with glass sunroom enclosures, the room did not have a TV, I think there may not be a comfortable chair in the entire building, there is no insipid mood music playing constantly, the hallways are dark and the inside and the outside of the building really could use a new paint job with a designers eye. The food was unpleasant as hospital food is required to be, but this may be the condition of being a vegetarian in a meat eating nation [spaghetti topped with canned peas and corn in a light cheese sauce is even too bizarre for my imagination], but I did have fresh fruit and a fresh green salad. The building looks well worn, and probably needs a lot of renovation [the weather was torrential rain and they had some puddles in the emergency area]. The colors are really unpleasant; the walls are painted a Microsoft Word blue with Post-it-Note yellow or gold trim, and there were three different colors of blue in my room [walls, window trim, window frame, curtains]. Some of the equipment looked older than I have seen in Ohio hospitals, but everything seemed to work. Many of the rooms had 6 beds but I was in a single room [foreigner and not a Slovene speaker]. And I was never required to sit in a wheel chair; because I could walk out of the hospital they allowed me to do so. But none of these things are an indication of the care they are just the façade and even though it was difficult not to judge the care by the packaging I tried to break out of my American perspective.

Language was indeed a difficulty. My doctors both speak beautiful English and were very open to answering my questions and made certain that I understood everything. Unfortunately many of the nursing staff was either without English skills or were too shy to use them so I learned more Slovene and they learned a little more English. It is certainly not their fault that they couldn’t communicate with me and I was frustrated by my weakness, but I have grown so accustomed to most everyone speaking English that I was surprised how difficult it was to communicate. Fortunately I had no medical difficulties so it really wasn’t a problem, but I had people I could have called to translate if needed.

THERE IS NO MYTH ABOUT THE COST!!! My insurance, that I pay nothing for, covers 85% of the medical costs and I could have purchased an additional insurance to cover the additional 15%, but I didn’t know about it and we didn’t purchase it in time to allow for the 3 month waiting period. My first doctors visit cost me €2.20, my antibiotics cost €1.50, my lab tests were really expensive €3.84 and I don’t know yet my out of pocket cost for the hospital, but I am guessing it is a lot less than I would pay in the US. €1.00 = $1.33 UPDATE: 1/8/09 Today I received the bill - Total cost 2.062,18 - my portion 191,78

EXTRA BONUS TO THE SLOVENE SYSTEM – If I had needed to stay in the hospital it would have been encouraged until I was able to go home – if I had needed therapy it is possible that a stay in a health spa would have been prescribed and paid by my insurance - if I was younger maternity leave would be a year and if it was a difficult pregnancy I would have had paid sick leave prior to the birth

According to http://www.photius.com/rankings/healthranks.html - 2000 World Health Association Ranking System – the US is ranked 37th in the world in quality of health care – Slovenia is 38th – Costa Rica is 36th and Cuba is 39th – I could not find out what the criteria was for the assessment, but France and Italy are #1 and #2 and the US is 37th? Why do we fervently believe that our health system is superior?

When I return to the US I will sign up for American health insurance that will cost me over $200 per month with a $2,500 deductable, but 100% pay after the deductable. I can not use the US insurance in Slovenia with out paying for everything first out of pocket and Slovene insurance is not honored in the US. But this is a much better deal than the “excellent” State Teacher’s Retirement plan which cost me $400 per month [Bob has his own costs], $1,500 deductable and 80–20% pay. And I am one of the lucky ones because I can afford to pay this outrageous cost so that the insurance companies can throw away my money on CEO salaries and gambling on the stock market, and then beg the government to bail them out for their irresponsible behavior. Guess I get to pay for my insurance twice, but what about my son who can’t afford to pay????

If you haven’t seen Sicko made by Michael Moore you can watch the complete film on youtube and it is worth the 2:03:56 - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fANRr6JumJs

Resources:

www.commonwealthfund.org

http://www.libraryindex.com/pages/1862/International-Comparisons-Health-Care-OVERVIEWS-SELECTED-HEALTH-CARE-SYSTEMS.html

FOR MORE RECENT ENTRIES GO TO www.kayraplenovich.com

Sunny Adriatic

SALT-FLATS

The day had the breath of chill in the air and winter was peaking in the window, but the sun was still claiming the sea so we headed to the salt-pans on the Adriatic. There are two remaining “salt farms” in Slovenia near Portorož/ Piran and in “no man’s land” between the border crossings of Slovenia and Croatia. The salt –pans were the source of salt for centuries and function today as a working museum which produces salt in traditional ways. The sun sparkled on the surface of the stagnant water in the salt-pan squares shooting the reflection with the greater force of salt and called us into the basin of history.

Salt Flats

The first documented discussion of salt making in this area was in 840, but historians believe that long before that time the process of claiming salt from sea water was happening in the delta of the Dragonja River. The richness of this production was claimed by the Venetian empire and sale to the Italians was compulsory until the end of the Venetian rule in 1797, when at that point the Austrian Empire claimed the salt monopoly. In the middle ages the design of checkerboard squares was introduced following the patterns established by Arab salt producers, and in 1358 the petola process was developed to create a carpet of algae, carbonate minerals and gypsum grown on the bottom of the salt plot as a barrier to keep the muddy floor from mixing with the seawater and the salt. Because of this crust the salt harvested her e was known for its purity in color and taste.

Secovlje

The conditions for producing salt were perfect in these protected delta because the climate is hot with a constant warm breeze in the summer and the sea level is relatively constant. Salt was produced in these closed basins by allowing seawater to flow, by gravity or aided by wind or hand pumps, first into a reserve basin and then five basins of different grades of salinity and then to the crystallization and collection basins. As the sea water flowed between the pans the water evaporated gradually, the salt crystals start to form on the surface of the brine (aqua madre), they become saturated and built up clusters of salt on the warmer surface. These clusters were raked with wooden scrapers (gavero) from the shallow pools into piles where, because of gravity, the surplus moisture leaked from the bottom. The dry salt was then gathered by hand and transported by wheelbarrow and wagons to storage units. It takes approximately, 50,000 cubic/m of sea water spread over 100,000 sq/m, of flat solar evaporation area, to produce 1,000 tons of salt a year and this daily collection of salt produced pure white unrefined sea salt. In good years the production was as high at 40,000 tons.

Canal

In 1903 the Austrians consolidated the salt-fields, bought up small producers and modernized the production. After WWI the Italians renovated the fields and enhanced the production to a high level. In 1957 the Yugoslav government built an infrastructure to prevent flooding, but because the mining of salt was more efficient than the evaporation process the sites were closed for production in 1968. The Slovene government has established this area as a protected wetland and a cultural heritage site. Salt is still produced in the traditional ways and sold as a specialty item for eating and beauty care. Areas have also been flooded to encourage greater breeding by sea birds such as the tern and claim this as a wildlife refuge.

Ruins of worker houses

Throughout the 1,400 acre salt-pans remains of the salt houses stand on deserted islands. The evaporation ponds and residences were all connected and separated by canals, gates, dikes and aqueducts. The salt was harvested daily and the flow of the sea water was controlled with the tides, so the workers lived in the midst of their work. Their homes were typically 2 stories with the living quarters on the second floor and storage of salt and tools on the ground floor, with an out side bakery. Now they stand naked with out their roofs and emptied of any sign of life. From the place where we parked the car, I found a recently constructed levee that lead me out to the houses. The mallards reminded me that I was investigating an area not open for tourists, but it was a lonely day and no one else but the egrets noticed.

house construction

The houses, still plumb square, are built of roughly cut pure white blocks of stone from the Istrian Peninsula [the same stone used in the White House] filled with left over chips and mud. There is little land around the houses but each had an area where they docked the boats that would have transported them along the canals. The absolute calm on these little islands was profoundly peaceful., and far on the horizon were the snowy peaks of the Dolomiti mountains, the sound of the sea was quieted by distance and not a single mechanical sound could be heard. It was marvelous!

Peaceful quiet

Sources:

http://www.soline.si/park/?lang=eng

http://salt.org.il/frame_prod.html

http://www.aegean.gr/alas/traditional.htm

http://www2.arnes.si/~kppomm/frames/english/english.htm

http://www.mcvitamins.com/Health%20Opponents/salt.htm

The Lipizzaner horses live and breed in Slovenia, and have since1580. Estates not far from Trieste were established by Archduke Charles, son of Hapsburg Emperor Ferdinand I for the sole purpose of breeding horses for dressage and parades. Indigenous horses from the Slovenian Kras were cross bred with Neapolitan, Danish, Spanish and Arabic breeds creating the magnificent long bodied brilliantly white horses that are so famous for dancing and prancing. The colts are always born dark brown or gray and have documented lineage for generations. Between their sixth and tenth year the color of their coats lightens and becomes an unblemished satiny white. They are rigorously trained in Piber, Austria and then returned to Slovenia for stud services.
Once a year the stud farm in Lipica has an open house with free tours and exhibits and we took Sarah and Larry Reed visiting from Mt. Vernon, Ohio. It was a gloriously warm colorful fall day and we sat and reveled for two hours in the beauty of the show of dancing and racing Lipizzaner horses.

"View from Dornberk vineyard"

It is grape season in Primorska [near the sea]. The air is sticky sweet with sun warmed juice, tractors snail from the vineyards hauling loads of grapes and vats of juice, chatting and laughing rises from between the rows and entire families and close friends spend gloriously sweet days picking grapes. Many hands make light work; but it is also a traditional event of working out side, easing the labor of a loved one, socializing while working, gathering around the table outside for a harvest lunch, and enjoying the wine of your labors the rest of the year.

"Spoiled grapes" In some vineyards it was not a good year for grapes. Some of the hillsides had hail the size of eggs destroying much of the crop. Some bunches were full and sweet on the protected side but on the outside bruised and dried like raisins. In addition there was a lot of rain followed by high temperatures. Disease grows rapidly in these conditions and if the grower is not able to spray within an hour of the rain the mold is unstoppable. "Picking in Vogrsko"

Each grower has his own style of picking. Some who have larger vineyards tell us to cut the bunches and not worry about trimming out the dried parts, but others ask us to cut out every bit of the bad and only put the sweetest berries in the bucket [they call the single grape jagoda meaning strawberry]. Trimming every bad spot in the vineyard is a tediously slow process, but makes for lots of time for conversation. "Svetinje"

We traveled this week to Prlekija above the Pannonian plain, in eastern Slovenia on the Hungarian and Croatian borders, to visit the villages and vineyards there. Picking has not really begun yet so the vines were still heavy with grapes. The vineyards look so different because they are tended in different ways. The soil in Primorska is rocky and nothing grows under the terraced vines that follow the contour of the hillside. But in Prlekija the paths between the vines are grass, the vines are trimmed very close to the support wires [maybe to make it easier for machine harvest] and some of the vines run vertical on the hills as well as long twisting ribbons of green. "Jeruzalem"

In Prlekija there seem to be fewer villages on the top of hillsides, but small church communities. We stayed in Jeruzalem [pop. 55] named by the Knights Hospitallers of St. John of Jerusalem who brought the image of the Lamenting Madonna here on their return from a crusade to the Holy Land. The Knights were a Christian organization who built a hospital on the site of the monastery of St. John the Baptist in Jerusalem in1080 to provide care for sick and injured pilgrims to the Holy Land. In 1099 they were charged with defense of the Holy Land, and along with the Knights Templar, were one of the most powerful crusade organizations fighting the Muslims. When the Muslims expelled the Christians from Jerusalem in the 13^th century the Knights were given land on this ridge in Slovenia where the Benedictine brothers built a chapel and church community. The current church was built in the 16^th century. Now the monastery buildings have been converted into a lovely hotel. "View from Jeruzalem" We of course came up with our own fractured history: Richard the Chicken Hearted grudgingly started out for the Holy Land kissing his mama goodbye and promising a souvenir on his return. After a torturous crossing of the Alps and then going up and down, and down and up again and again he decided that the view was pretty good from this hill top so he stopped and called it Jeruzalem. Now he could tell everyone that he made it safely to Jerusalem and sent mama a bottle of Rumeni Muškat for her souvenir. The amazing thing about both stories is the amount of traveling people did hundreds of years ago. We think we are so modern and global and we complain how tired we are from a 12 hour overseas flight. But these people traveled for years and were offered hospitality along the way and were somehow able to communicate along the journey and used trade to pay for everything.

For a country of only 2 million people and a land mass the size of northern Ohio the diversity is incredible. In this region of Prlekija the language does not even sound like Slovene. Our friends tell us that they can’t understand the language here and we certainly didn’t understand anything. In our area everyone speaks English and Italian, but in this area everyone speaks German and probably Hungarian too. We saw homes that had Hungarian influence, stork nests, Austrian castles and regional dishes are made with pumpkin oil and buckwheat. It feels like a different country.

Along our walk from Jeruzalem to Svetinje we followed the sound of the klopotec echoing throughout the valley. The clacking sounds of wood blocks striking wood are used to scare the birds away from the ripening grapes but to us it was the giggling sound of laughter which added even more joy to our adventure. "Klopotec"

FOR NEW SLOVENIAN ENTRIES GO TO www.kayraplenovich.com

Kitchen Garden













Vegetable Garden












Sunset






















Peace Flags on Front Porch

I had no idea how it would feel to come “home” to Ohio. I have visited twice in the past two years, but visiting home is like taking a nap on an old bed; it feels right and comfortable, but it is just not long enough to know for sure if your back is going to hurt. Living in Slovenia on the border of Italy is an incredible adventure. Each day we are discovering new places, struggling with language, meeting new people, and wading through the adventure and challenges of two cultures. Some times we are so tired of not understanding, of getting lost, of being continuously confused that we crave familiar normalcy and a place where we can understand every inane thing that is said. But the familiar eases out adventure, and at home we found ourselves searching hard to discover the new and interesting. Would we simply fall into old patterns when we returned? Would the sameness seem dull or comforting? Would the familiar be cozy or uninteresting? Would family and friends be curious about what has changed us, or are we expected to slide back into being the people of the past?

Our home stood breathlessly waiting for us. The trees and bushes lined up for inspection showing how tall they had grown in 3 years; the flower gardens hung their heads in shame because the weeds had invaded and the gardens had lost the war, and the field laughed in wild flower joy. On my first morning at the house I brewed myself a cup of coffee, fluffed milk for a latte and settled in my quiet ritual of rocking on the porch until the coffee is gone. But the hummingbird had other ideas. No one had feed him in 2 years and he was unhappy; buzzing my head on the porch unhappy. So before I could even finish my coffee I had to find the feeder, mix him a cocktail of sugar water and feed him his treat so that I could have a little peace. This same hummingbird has been returning to my feeders for around 6 years I think; but they all look alike. He always comes begging the beginning of May and if I don’t have the feeders out he searches for me. One year I was in my studio on the second floor at the back of the house where there was never a feeder and he found me. He hung at the window fluttering his tiny wings until I got up and filled the feeder, as if to say “Mom, come on I’m home, where’s the food”. He doesn’t search for Bob; he somehow knows that I am the dealer for his sugar habit.

Bob came home the beginning of February and he did an enormous amount of work on the house; keeping it safe during the -17° F temperatures, repairing things, painting rooms to cover renter nicks and finger prints and he planted the vegetable garden with some flowers for me. So I came home to the house that felt like my home. It is delightfully peaceful here. The stream that fills the neighbor’s pond from the artesian well across the street snickers all year long, constantly reminding us that she carries secrets from deep in the earth. The song birds dance in streaks of yellow, red, blue and orange, calling to each other from perches on high and serenading us early in the morning. Bob also moved the hot-tub from the master bathroom to the back patio and where we can celebrate the setting sun from the depth of hot water. Now home seems like a fancy resort with luxury in our back yard. We are so very blessed!

We have found in other visits home that contact with family and friends is very different than we expected. People ask “Do you like living over there?” “Are you home to stay?” When we answer yes to the first question and no to the second the conversation comes to a screeching halt. There seems to be no more interest in what we have done, what we are doing and who we are becoming. The conversation quickly oozes to the local gossip, the quality of playing by the Cleveland Indians, the romantic encounters of music and movie celebrities or diatribes about recent illnesses. Generally people seem to not be curious about what we are doing. That is strange for us because we are so fascinated by the experiences of other people, that we thought people would be fascinated by ours. After sharing stories one friend said “You make me feel like I am doing nothing with my life.” Her comment makes me wonder if that is how our stories make others feel. Rather than feeling interested and excited with us the conversations make them feel badly for themselves. We of course hope that our choices can help inspire others to take the risk and do the things that they have always wanted to do and live life without regret, but it doesn’t seem that way.

This summer has been a garden holiday. We have reestablished some of the flower beds, grown the vegetables for our dinners, and built a wildflower labyrinth. It has been a time of reclaiming the home that we designed and built with our own hands. It has been a time of reading, talking, visiting and sharing. It has been a time of great contentment.

Our plans now are to live in Slovenia for 6 months during the school year and 6 months in Ohio working the land. We both will have part time teaching jobs in Nova Gorica and we will call Šempeter our Slovene home for another year. We hope to return to Ohio in April, reestablish Thistlefink Gardens, sell flowers and take full advantage of both of our homes and all they have to offer.

Hummingbird friend















Garden Harvest















Red and Black Raspberries picked with friend Carson

The views from my bike today