Blog W

I started this epistle last night but the dark forces intervened. Today, I have to report, regrettably, that fascism truly reigns supreme in our little corner of Slovenia, and in the name of telecommunications, and the neighbour's desire to do some additional construction on his property, a fabulous 37 year old specimen of Slovenia's national tree was cut down, along with about 50 square metres of our newly cared for forest, and there is no one prepared to step up and take responsibility. A gang of blokes, armed with chainsaws, and on our newly purchased property, in the name of Telekom.si....... Sheeeeeit. We are bereft. Someone is going to have to tell them, show them, that being in the European Union is not just a documentary thing; it's a change of life and attitude from peasant to citizen, from ignoramus to concerned member of a larger community, from country bumpkin to polite inhabitant. We don't think we'll be here long. Not with the low level attitude that prevails; the Police failed to get them to permit us to have our team's flag up for the Rugby World Cup; the fact that there are laws permitting such displays is completely inconsequential here, so tonight in the spirit of the season, I will carve a pumpkin into an effigy of Hitler, and sit it on the commune building, along with their newly hoisted Slovenian and EU flags. I've been on this planet since WW2. I've seen enough of this to prefer Ghana or Lebanon to what is going on in our neck of the woods. If they don't want foreigners, why advertise a property on internet?; we'd never read a Slovenian rag; we can't comprehend the lingo; would we be here now? Great country. Let's exterminate the people. Nuff said.

Blog V

The vicious vine struck last night. We live above a basement filled with the basic kit for wine production; something every man, and a few women, of this region have, for the 11.5 month supply of liquid intake they prefer to all others. While we may have developed quite an attitude to varietal preference, these people have the disconcerting habit of mixing several varieties, white and red, to produce a pleasant quaffing number they drink as soon as it has created alcohol; last night the landlord deemed it was on, and we joined to drink countless jugs from his first barrel, (a stainless steel number these days) to my immense regret today, as nights as jovial as that on three week old wine, are to be taken only once a year or even less frequently, for me. We've got a jug of the stuff in our refrigerator right now, and I'm tempted to pour it down the sink; I do like a drink to be taken slowly, in a decent glass, with a thoughtful meal, even a nice snack, but knocking back tumblers of this stuff is a test for me; I can do it; I just need to find some other way of managing the morning after...
Yesterday we achieved a bit of a milestone with our renovation project we are so engrossed with here; we found a Slovenian factory prepared to make exactly the insulation material we wanted, which is a great change from the frustrating battles we've had for every small step in this project; three months to get power on, where a generator would have had us well closed in by winter, instead of winter closing in on us, and countless disappointments with the timbermills to get wood suitable for the exterior, and NO luck getting the natural poles I had wanted to match the ceiling structure we have; I am faced with using 50% of the old rafters, and I really wanted all new, but unless I become a thief and steal the countless poles I see lying at the side of the road awaiting the firewood man, I'm lost.... but when you enter the house, you'll see the old stuff alright, and the new structure will be in the bedroom loft only. My most annoying test has been to use a 'plug together' system of PVC drainage pipes, with flexible gaskets and no way of gluing the system into its correct orientation; doglegs and junctions constantly shift slightly, and that means one has to forever test the system to see that it isn't trying to go uphill at some point when you've been adding sections downstream. I get the feeling they've always had something like this here, and I wonder what they had before that, as I've never seen any sign of a solid, substantial drainage system in the region, and then I realise, with the deep aroma that pervades the region, that 'muckspreading' with tanks of the endless manure from the dairy sections of most farms around the place probably includes the miniscule (in comparison) daily domestic output too...... I figure 'getting used to' the simplicity of the way things are done around here will take a while, but I regularly wonder when and how the methods might change for a future with a more urgent set of conservation values. Values. We're still up in the air on that one. Nuff said.