Yesterday, on the occasion of my “Name Day” (a Roman and Eastern Orthodox Catholic tradition of celebrating a day of the year that is associated with one’s given name, in some regions of Poland as popular as a Birthday, if not more. This year was also the first year when S. didn’t ask why all those Polish people are calling me today?!, as he was determined to [quote]: “embrace the strange and absolutely foreign concept of Name Day and not forget about it for the 6th consecutive year”. It just took him few good hours to figure out what “Ela’s anniversary” in his calendar means) a significant number of people wished me “plane flights, safe and available soon”, which is exactly what I wish for, every minute of every day these days.
I’m missing home. And this is a photo of a court in the park where I spent pretty much every afternoon (after homework was done) y. 1997–2000. I didn’t learn as much about basketball (that came later), as about life, friendship, that it doesn’t matter who you are, how old you are and how you look, because everyone is head to toe covered in dust anyway and playing ball and laughs was all what mattered then, and finally it was also revealed to me then that there is a Universal Cosmic Law: the dogs look like their owners and vice versa.
felo the noticer 