Saturday, September 26, 2020

Servus, Mädchen! / 269 km cycled in 3 days


I love cycling with my husband - but he never has time since he works so hard. And I love cycling with my best girl-friend, but she doesn't have time for cycling with me since she has young children. 

10 days ago I was watching weather forecast and I realized that the last three sunny & warm days in a row are predicted for this year so I decided in a moment - that this is time to pack my bike bag and hit the road. Alone. 

I chose this path:  

The part that takes you from Slovenian mountains to Italian seaside. Total distance cycled: 269 km (after Italian sea I needed few additional km to reach the train that took me back home). 

I loved the cycling trip! I loved being so focused in the moment that nothing else really mattered.  

Once a group of Austrian cyclists (all men, a bit older then me) overpassed me and they kindly greeted: "Servus, Mädchen!"   (Hello, girl!). They made my day :)

When I got back to work I boasted to my coworkers. And my boss asked me: "But is it normal to go cycling such a long distance alone?". He instantly realized that the question wasn't politically correct so he corrected himself: "Is it usual to go cycling alone?"

I smiled inside - I am very used to not being normal and not being usual. In the best wild sense of the word. It felt good :) 

PS: in case you wondered. Yes, of course I went swimming into the Adriatic sea. It felt wonderful - the sea took away all the sweat. And prior to that the sweat took away the last piece of sadness over my infertility.... Life is what you make out of it.

Sunday, September 20, 2020

Tadej & Primož: congratulations!!!

Have you been following Tour de France? We are happy: the victory goes to Slovenian cyclist. And the second place to Slovenian cyclist as well :)

(I just wish that Primož Roglič had won, but as it is sport, the best one wins). 

I celebrated tour de France victory by cycling myself. More: in the next post :)

Tuesday, September 15, 2020

My grandchildren?

I took my nieces and nephews the other day to the swimming pool. The youngest is 7 and the oldest will be 13 years next month. A guy (few years older then me) that I know from work (but he is not a coworker) met me when I was with the kids. Few days later we met again. 

He asked - out of blue - we never really chat (I am not a chatty person): "So, did your grandchildren like the swimming pool?"

So  - there it was - the very first question that I got regarding MY grandchildren. Aged 47. 

I just replied: "No one has ever offended me the way you just did." And I walked away.  

(obviously I know that some women my age have grandchildren - but they are babies, not teenagers!!)

Thursday, September 10, 2020

The best holiday destinations for 2021

Before the pandemic I got on average one bloggie friend visit per year. With the help of this blog I met many amazing women who came to my country for the very first time. I love seeing my country through their eyes.

I love this new list of CN Traveller of the best holiday destinations for 2021. My country is number one on this list <3

I hope that pandemic will be soon over so I can start looking forward to new visitors. The visitors who have already been here (but according to my opinion: not long enough) are welcome as well :)

Saturday, September 5, 2020

Whose life have you touched today?

I love the story that I got from a dear pen-friend of mine <3 ... so I am sharing it with you.

The Black Telephone
Those of us old enough to remember when the phone was wired to the wall, usually in the kitchen, can relate to this story. I loved this read.
When I was a young boy, my father had one of the first telephones in our neighborhood. I remember the polished, old case fastened to the wall. The shiny receiver hung on the side of the box.. I was too little to reach the telephone, but used to listen with fascination when my mother talked to it.
Then I discovered that somewhere inside the wonderful device lived an amazing person. Her name was "Information Please" and there was nothing she did not know. Information Please could supply anyone's number and the correct time.
My personal experience with the genie-in-a-bottle came one day while my mother was visiting a neighbor. Amusing myself at the tool bench in the basement, I whacked my finger with a hammer, the pain was terrible, but there seemed no point in crying because there was no one home to give sympathy. I walked around the house sucking my throbbing finger, finally arriving at the stairway.
The telephone! Quickly, I ran for the footstool in the parlor and dragged it to the landing. Climbing up, I unhooked the receiver in the parlor and held it to my ear. "Information, please," I said into the mouthpiece just above my head.
A click or two and a small clear voice spoke into my ear. "Information."
"I hurt my finger..." I wailed into the phone, the tears came readily enough now that I had an audience..
"Isn't your mother home?" came the question
"Nobody's home but me," I blubbered.
"Are you bleeding?" the voice asked
"No, "I replied. "I hit my finger with the hammer and it hurts."
"Can you open the icebox?" she asked.
I said I could.
"Then chip off a little bit of ice and hold it to your finger," said the voice.
After that, I called "Information Please" for everything. I asked her for help with my geography, and she told me where Philadelphia was. She helped me with my math.
She told me my pet chipmunk that I had caught in the park just the day before, would eat fruit and nuts.
Then, there was the time Petey, our pet canary, died. I called, "Information Please," and told her the sad story. She listened, and then said things grown-ups say to soothe a child. But I was not consoled. I asked her, "Why is it that birds should sing so beautifully and bring joy to all families, only to end up as a heap of feathers on the bottom of a cage?"
She must have sensed my deep concern, for she said quietly, " Wayne , always remember that there are other worlds to sing in." Somehow I felt better.
Another day I was on the telephone, "Information Please."
"Information," said in the now familiar voice.
"How do I spell fix?" I asked
All this took place in a small town in the Pacific Northwest . When I was nine years old, we moved across the country to Boston . I missed my friend very much.
"Information Please" belonged in that old wooden box back home and I somehow never thought of trying the shiny new phone that sat on the table in the hall. As I grew into my teens, the memories of those childhood conversations never really left me. Often, in moments of doubt and perplexity I would recall the serene sense of security I had then. I appreciated now how patient, understanding, and kind she was to have spent her time on a little boy.
A few years later, on my way west to college, my plane put down in Seattle . I had about a half-hour or so between planes. I spent 15 minutes or so on the phone with my sister, who lived there now. Then without thinking what I was doing, I dialed my hometown operator and said, "Information Please."
Miraculously, I heard the small, clear voice I knew so well.
I hadn't planned this, but I heard myself saying, "Could you please tell me how to spell fix?"
There was a long pause. Then came the soft spoken answer, "I guess your finger must have healed by now."
I laughed, "So it's really you," I said. "I wonder if you have any idea how much you meant to me during that time?"
"I wonder," she said, "if you know how much your calls meant to me. I never had any children and I used to look forward to your calls."
I told her how often I had thought of her over the years and I asked if I could call her again when I came back to visit my sister.
"Please do," she said. "Just ask for Sally."
Three months later I was back in Seattle .
A different voice answered, "Information."
I asked for Sally.
"Are you a friend?" she said.
"Yes, a very old friend," I answered.
"I'm sorry to have to tell you this," She said. "Sally had been working part time the last few years because she was sick. She died five weeks ago."
Before I could hang up, she said, "Wait a minute, did you say your name was Wayne ?" "
"Yes." I answered.
Well, Sally left a message for you. She wrote it down in case you called. Let me read it to you. The note said, "Tell him there are other worlds to sing in. He'll know what I mean."
I thanked her and hung up. I knew what Sally meant.
Never underestimate the impression you may make on others. Whose life have you touched today?

Thursday, September 3, 2020

La vita sin hijos / Life without children

I've just come across this blog in Spanish:

I wish I was fluent in Spanish. But luckily there are many translators that help me understand. My favourite one is:

I haven't read this article yet, I will do it tonight. But what captured me were beautiful pictures of brave and beautiful women - who just like me - have been dealing with infertility. I like the titel: Infertilitad: la otra cara de la maternidad / Infertility: the other side of motherhood.

Gloria, the author of the blog La vida sin hijos is in that article. I love her question:

"¿Y quién se preocupa
de las infértiles?"

"And who cares
of the infertile?"

Wednesday, September 2, 2020

A different life

I love this new blog.  I still remember how happy I was when I started getting very first readers and comments, I feel it is important to share this link with you:

dear TingTing: welcome in our awesome blogging community! As Mali beautifully wrote in her comment: "We are very very sorry you had to join us - but glad that you found us. Take good care of yourself."