Like time travel. Only without the Tardis. Or Daleks.
I have had a joyful reunion with my little camera that I took to Montenegro and then misplaced somewhere in Belgrade (I think it was spirited away by imps, because I looked all over and it was found by my mum a couple of weeks ago in a place that I could swear I had already searched).
Anyway, I uploaded pictures, which is what I prefer to do when faced with a presentation due tomorrow, and among them were pictures of one entire day that I had taken and meant to send to Z. (I also meant to send him a postcard but that didn't happen either).
In these photos Matei is well into his eigth month on earth; when we got back his daddy hadn't seen him for over a month and hardly recognised him. But he's changed even more since then because when I look at these pictures now I can't believe how much older he looks now, two months on.
So anyway, if you care, that's my day under there gratiutously documented for the internet, because that's what the internet is for.
x
Baby woke me up by laughing at me. Hello to you too.
It's 7:50 am, which is a fairly decent wake up call as these things go.
After civilities (greetings, limb nibblage, nappy changes etc.) we get up and go play.
Worn out by the gruelling schedule of crawling and having breakfast, he goes down for a nap.
Although I would prefer napping myself, in the spirit of my resolution to be less lazy I tidy.
Summer reading. The End of Mr. Y was particularly ace.
Hello there
Breakfast.
Time check.
There's a drought, and a frequent water shortage so I fill up bottles with running water while there still is some, because I am organised and proactive like that when I don't have access to the internet.
Baby is still sleeping, so I use this god-given boon to wash our clothes. Unfortunately there's not enough water to run the washing machine, so we do it the old fashioned way.
Downstairs there are puppies to play with and pretty nature. Such as hills. And a bizarrely elaborate flower.
It's approaching 1pm, because the sun is at its zenith and the day becomes fiendishly hot(my guess is probably around 39 Celsius). I prefer to spend this time wedging myself as deeply as I can into the shade. There's not a breath of wind and grapevines cast sharp shadows against stone. The light is vast and bright - the whole sky is like a glare. Nobody in their right mind ventures anywhere outside between the hours of 11 and 3pm.
I check on the baby, who is still deeply asleep. It makes me hugely paranoid when I don't hear things from him for a while and then I do this internal battle where the need to reassure myself that he is still ok wars with the part of me that doesn't want to risk waking him.
I can only assume that he is trying to portray himself in a deceptively compliant light for the internet, because he's normally more of a power napper.
Therefore, an opportunity to have lunch and do some writing.
The boss wakes up....
I feed him goo...
....and we go play. I wish I was a baby. They have no idea how good they have it.
Later, he makes himself useful and helps me out with the rinsing
And helps me even more by going down for another nap. It is 4:15pm and the heat of the day is starting to slacken a bit. Therefore, I leave the baby in the care of my mum and take a walk to the village shop (about 1km away) for supplies. I've been coming for vacations to this place since I was a baby and I remember doing this walk to the shops with my grandmother, as well as the taste of the slightly ancient chocolate with rice flakes in it that I got for being good.
It's still fiendishly hot. The air is full of the buzzing of insects and the sky is like this vast, flat thing you could almost dive into.
THe first sight of the sea.
And there, with the cars parked in front of it is my destination. Montenegrans don't believe in things like traffic lights and pedestrian crossings, so a sprint across the highway is always thrilling.
The essentials. Milk, water, proscuitto, bog roll, sour cream, cheese and biscuits for the baby. The last item particularly is a must-have because the kid doesn't stop eating and biscuits are more or less the only bargaining power I have to slow down his need to fidget or fling himself off every elevated surface.
When I get back the young gentleman is awake and fed, so we pack up and head to the beach.
Hello sea!
Smooch. Delicious baby head. He alternates between snacking on my necklace and the biscuit in his hot little paw. Shortly after this the taxiboat comes, and it takes us to a much nicer, cleaner bay around the corner.
We unpack, go for a swim and then there is more playing.
Nom nom nom.
Clouds are pretty.
Then it's time to go back. Bye bye beach.
It is almost sunset, which places us around 7:30 in the evening.
hello there, first beach
It gets cold.
And then it's dusk. And the fishermen get to work.
My son becomes cranky, so we go home.
At home we discover that there's been some kind of electrical fault brought on by the oven, that minx, and we have no electricity for a while.
I succesfully stamp out a bedtime rebellion...
.... eat whatever seems most perishable in the fridge
...and go watch stars for a while. They are splendid. The wind picks up, excites the cypresses and from faraway brings me the scent of the sea.
10:45pm.
I make myself a comfy nest on the terrace, and settle down to stargaze until I fall asleep. Whenever I am here in still quiet moments I get echoes of my other self the child who ran here, the girl who would lie back on the grass or against sunwarm stone on nights like this to take in the endless sky and the weight of all the wheeling stars and reflexively clutch at something because I'd feel dizzy at the notion of being so flimsily anchored to this planet spinning and hurtling through space.
Not long after that, I fall asleep
Anyway, I uploaded pictures, which is what I prefer to do when faced with a presentation due tomorrow, and among them were pictures of one entire day that I had taken and meant to send to Z. (I also meant to send him a postcard but that didn't happen either).
In these photos Matei is well into his eigth month on earth; when we got back his daddy hadn't seen him for over a month and hardly recognised him. But he's changed even more since then because when I look at these pictures now I can't believe how much older he looks now, two months on.
So anyway, if you care, that's my day under there gratiutously documented for the internet, because that's what the internet is for.
x
Baby woke me up by laughing at me. Hello to you too.
It's 7:50 am, which is a fairly decent wake up call as these things go.
After civilities (greetings, limb nibblage, nappy changes etc.) we get up and go play.
Worn out by the gruelling schedule of crawling and having breakfast, he goes down for a nap.
Although I would prefer napping myself, in the spirit of my resolution to be less lazy I tidy.
Summer reading. The End of Mr. Y was particularly ace.
Hello there
Breakfast.
Time check.
There's a drought, and a frequent water shortage so I fill up bottles with running water while there still is some, because I am organised and proactive like that when I don't have access to the internet.
Baby is still sleeping, so I use this god-given boon to wash our clothes. Unfortunately there's not enough water to run the washing machine, so we do it the old fashioned way.
Downstairs there are puppies to play with and pretty nature. Such as hills. And a bizarrely elaborate flower.
It's approaching 1pm, because the sun is at its zenith and the day becomes fiendishly hot(my guess is probably around 39 Celsius). I prefer to spend this time wedging myself as deeply as I can into the shade. There's not a breath of wind and grapevines cast sharp shadows against stone. The light is vast and bright - the whole sky is like a glare. Nobody in their right mind ventures anywhere outside between the hours of 11 and 3pm.
I check on the baby, who is still deeply asleep. It makes me hugely paranoid when I don't hear things from him for a while and then I do this internal battle where the need to reassure myself that he is still ok wars with the part of me that doesn't want to risk waking him.
I can only assume that he is trying to portray himself in a deceptively compliant light for the internet, because he's normally more of a power napper.
Therefore, an opportunity to have lunch and do some writing.
The boss wakes up....
I feed him goo...
....and we go play. I wish I was a baby. They have no idea how good they have it.
Later, he makes himself useful and helps me out with the rinsing
And helps me even more by going down for another nap. It is 4:15pm and the heat of the day is starting to slacken a bit. Therefore, I leave the baby in the care of my mum and take a walk to the village shop (about 1km away) for supplies. I've been coming for vacations to this place since I was a baby and I remember doing this walk to the shops with my grandmother, as well as the taste of the slightly ancient chocolate with rice flakes in it that I got for being good.
It's still fiendishly hot. The air is full of the buzzing of insects and the sky is like this vast, flat thing you could almost dive into.
THe first sight of the sea.
And there, with the cars parked in front of it is my destination. Montenegrans don't believe in things like traffic lights and pedestrian crossings, so a sprint across the highway is always thrilling.
The essentials. Milk, water, proscuitto, bog roll, sour cream, cheese and biscuits for the baby. The last item particularly is a must-have because the kid doesn't stop eating and biscuits are more or less the only bargaining power I have to slow down his need to fidget or fling himself off every elevated surface.
When I get back the young gentleman is awake and fed, so we pack up and head to the beach.
Hello sea!
Smooch. Delicious baby head. He alternates between snacking on my necklace and the biscuit in his hot little paw. Shortly after this the taxiboat comes, and it takes us to a much nicer, cleaner bay around the corner.
We unpack, go for a swim and then there is more playing.
Nom nom nom.
Clouds are pretty.
Then it's time to go back. Bye bye beach.
It is almost sunset, which places us around 7:30 in the evening.
hello there, first beach
It gets cold.
And then it's dusk. And the fishermen get to work.
My son becomes cranky, so we go home.
At home we discover that there's been some kind of electrical fault brought on by the oven, that minx, and we have no electricity for a while.
I succesfully stamp out a bedtime rebellion...
.... eat whatever seems most perishable in the fridge
...and go watch stars for a while. They are splendid. The wind picks up, excites the cypresses and from faraway brings me the scent of the sea.
10:45pm.
I make myself a comfy nest on the terrace, and settle down to stargaze until I fall asleep. Whenever I am here in still quiet moments I get echoes of my other self the child who ran here, the girl who would lie back on the grass or against sunwarm stone on nights like this to take in the endless sky and the weight of all the wheeling stars and reflexively clutch at something because I'd feel dizzy at the notion of being so flimsily anchored to this planet spinning and hurtling through space.
Not long after that, I fall asleep