tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-386606142024-03-19T00:24:28.188-04:00Meanwhile, Back At the ZamekThe Adventures of a Czech-American Family in the Czech-Moravian HighlandsUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger66125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38660614.post-12237370349121005712013-02-04T14:52:00.004-05:002013-02-04T14:52:46.185-05:00Agentura Smart<br />
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Marta Suková was a vice president of the International Women's Group of Prague before the name was changed to IWAP. <a href="http://www.smart-letenky.cz/" target="_blank">Agentura Smar</a>t has made my family’s travel plans many times. I asked Marta some questions on how she became involved in the travel business.<br />
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<b><i>How did you start in the travel business?</i></b> "In the international women's club, where I was a member, I offered to organize day trips in the Czech Republic. I wanted to show foreign club members rare and beautiful places of our country, castles and lakes, but also to familiarize them with diversified production, such as the production of glass in Nový Bor; making Christmas ornaments in Nelahozeves; production of leather products in Třebešín, etc."<br />
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<b><i>Was it difficult starting your business?</i></b> "We started the business in my house in the street Truhlářce in Prague 8, in 1992. Our business rapidly expanded; international guests wanted accommodations, guide services, transportation. We began to make reservations and sell tickets to all the world. Our operation was successful and the space in my house on Truhlářce become inadequate. It showed the need to relocate to the city center. The best offer was in Petrska Street in Prague 1. and we were given a great deal which I accepted. The success of our agency continued. Our headquarters is now in Biskupská in Prague 1. For our agency, it is most important to get a clientele that would allow our annual reports to be in the black. Due to this fact, we celebrate the 20th anniversary of the founding of our agency."<br />
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<b><i>What are the services and products your agency provides?</i></b> “In addition to selling tickets, airline, some train tickets, and some ferry tickets, we arrange business trips abroad and organize social events, corporate and private meetings, company presentations, etc."<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3ucOccyn0o8CHCjHWmGhJtcSnlni4w-ENlISZ2CPtUHCgb2wt-gfFrF2k2lL44-Rlo1OCAaqSThncYOpvhNuvoTctChySjSdVq4DYSPszgkBtwhoISxEZDPVMI4dB-oYDkDpXQQ/s1600/1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3ucOccyn0o8CHCjHWmGhJtcSnlni4w-ENlISZ2CPtUHCgb2wt-gfFrF2k2lL44-Rlo1OCAaqSThncYOpvhNuvoTctChySjSdVq4DYSPszgkBtwhoISxEZDPVMI4dB-oYDkDpXQQ/s320/1.jpg" width="320" /></a>Agentura Smart has always been very helpful with my family’s travel needs and is customer oriented. Sometimes I would go to Prague to pick up the tickets, sometimes they would mail them. Even when electronic tickets came out and our printer wasn't working, they have mailed the tickets.<br />
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I also love how they formed the name, Agentura Smart. It's made from her name--she's Marta with the last name of Suková. So, naturally, the agency is named Smart! And it is indeed smart!<br />
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About ten years ago, a young couple staying here with our family for a few months, enjoying the countryside, helping with the sheep, organizing the library, etc., wanted to visit Spain or Italy. I visited a couple agencies that were of no help. I also visited <a href="http://www.smart-letenky.cz/" target="_blank">Agentura Smart </a>and they, too, had nothing on tap. A few days later an agent phoned me. "Would the couple like to go to Greece for a week? We have an excellent offer." I phoned back that "yes they would like this."<a href="http://www.smart-letenky.cz/" target="_blank"> Agentura Smart</a> wrote the tickets. The young couple had a lovely holiday.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLlj0AazTtZz8CPdcaKS-hvM7dcuaUe_VvaFZ2WU7_gKRlmGlSE3mPjIuXbyURWEHa7cDEAyWiTSJZEjzrsJtBizotm7L8c8bhOvlUal7flcczNc3IiAiz8KuRnJ1ccnsxF7xo_w/s1600/3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLlj0AazTtZz8CPdcaKS-hvM7dcuaUe_VvaFZ2WU7_gKRlmGlSE3mPjIuXbyURWEHa7cDEAyWiTSJZEjzrsJtBizotm7L8c8bhOvlUal7flcczNc3IiAiz8KuRnJ1ccnsxF7xo_w/s320/3.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
I feel so very secure working with this agency. Sometimes our requirements are a little strange, sometimes things change with airlines, but <a href="http://www.smart-letenky.cz/" target="_blank">Agentura Smart</a> always clues me in. I most heartily recommend them. Below is information on how to contact them. The website is in Czech, but everyone in the office speaks English.<br />
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Agentura Smart, Biskupská 6,Tel: 224 818 018, <a href="http://www.smart-letenky.cz/">www.smart-letenky.cz</a><br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38660614.post-31698063458644284562013-01-31T09:39:00.000-05:002013-01-31T09:39:19.505-05:00Easter Baskets<br />
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When my brother and I were young, our Easter baskets were never purchased. We made them ourselves from cardboard oatmeal containers cut in two, decorating them with crepe paper, cutouts and ribbons. (I suppose that when I was very small my mother did this. One year at Easter at my grandmother's farm – I think I was 3 - someone gave me a long, long ribbon which I pulled until I came to a stuffed rabbit.) As we lived in New York State there was certainly no hiding of eggs outside (In the snow?).<br />
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On Easter we see our son's children, Kristyna and David. The other grandchildren are celebrating in the USA. The photo is of Kristyna's and David's Easter baskets. Kristyna's is the one she carried when she was the flower girl in her aunt's wedding. David's is one from an oasis in Saudi Arabia where we lived for many years. His basket is made of palm fonds.<br />
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We color eggs. filling the baskets with these and jelly beans, some chocolate, maybe a little fluffy chick. My mother often put in a marshmallow chick or a bunny, but I have not seen these here.<br />
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Once we did have a stateside grandson here. Ben was only 1 ½. On Easter Monday our son took him out with his son and Ben's mother. In an apartment building the woman who answered the door handed Ben an egg, which he promptly dropped over the rail! The woman handed him another, in spite of his mother's protests. This, fortunately, he did not drop over!<br />
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Sometimes I look at the Easter baskets in stores, all decked in ribbons and cellophane, but, you know, they actually do not have all the things I put in the baskets. I never buy them.If I did, I would find myself immediately wanting to augment it.<br />
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38660614.post-51751273752247592652012-04-25T09:08:00.001-04:002012-04-25T09:09:18.515-04:00The lamb who didn't care to live<br />
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Finally we penned them inside the Zámek where they were given bottles by a young couple visiting here. Eight months after we'd given the friend those lambs I saw them one day. They were alive and well, but strangely grown - much smaller than are normal sheep. This winter two sheep had twins, but this did not bother those experienced mothers. One of each set was smaller than the other at birth, but they did nurse and grow.</div>
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The problem baby did not seem to have the slightest idea how to nurse; the mother was a first time mother who also didn't know what to do. However our farm manager knew just what to do and, as is her wont, proceeded to do it. She milked the mother sheep, filled bottles, and took the lamb home with her for the weekend! This astonished us.</div>
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Only today I heard from Lída, the lady who runs the store how she also helped with the milking! This actually went on for more then two weeks. Štepánka, our farm manager, sat the mother sheep on her lap. The sitting position immobilises the sheep. She held the sheep´s four legs in her hands, while the store keeper milked the sheep into a bottle!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq9Nwj533NdB6kU2pOd8tGaMqyTSx68RsID6nIj32Fs2qMzqUOYno0nTgl0AQbYHLIzNEyXDUdNq1bOEZk4Y2cdYZtYodqnZCuB63afFme-NgI8i54YFLh0Kxdhx1oqLnbJmoYKw/s1600/BARBARA+015.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq9Nwj533NdB6kU2pOd8tGaMqyTSx68RsID6nIj32Fs2qMzqUOYno0nTgl0AQbYHLIzNEyXDUdNq1bOEZk4Y2cdYZtYodqnZCuB63afFme-NgI8i54YFLh0Kxdhx1oqLnbJmoYKw/s320/BARBARA+015.jpg" width="320" /></a> For about a week she did some of this, gradually transferring the lamb to the mother. We were suitably impressed. The next week she trimmed the sheep's wool around her udder, milked her again, and fed the lamb with the bottle right in the barn next to the mother. Now that lamb is out with the other sheep and lambs. You would never know that there had been any problems with it.</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38660614.post-74574005600641894932012-02-01T10:46:00.000-05:002012-02-01T10:47:51.232-05:00Josef Škvorecký books and The Miracle Game<div id="yiv985529757yui_3_2_0_18_132801095750043" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); ">Josef Škvorecký with his wife Zenda Salivarová have a publishing house in Toronto, Sixty-Eight Publishers, which published banned Czech and Slovak books. For this, after the Velvet Revolution Vaclav Havel gave them the<var id="yiv985529757yui-ie-cursor" style="font-style: normal; "></var> Order of the White Lion. Škvorecky, born in northern Bohemia September 24, 1924 died on January 3, 2012 in Toronto, Canada.</div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "><span id="yiv985529757yui_3_2_0_18_13280109575001357"></span> </div><div id="yiv985529757yui_3_2_0_18_132801332246891" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "><span id="yiv985529757yui_3_2_0_18_13280109575001360">I loved his Lieutenant Barovky books. Years ago I read some of them from a library and I know that Czechs love those books too. Today I want to talk about <i>The Miracle Game</i>. This really and truly happened.In a village near us, Číhošt, not in northern Bohemia as is protrayed in the book. There are perhaps two reasons for this. First, Škvorecký was born in Nachod and attended school there. He would have been most familiar with the towns, villages, hills, forests, valleys, much more familiar than with Číhošt. Another very strong reason he might have had would have been to protect the people of this small village from reprisals from the secret police.</span></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "><span id="yiv985529757yui_3_2_0_17_13280910629061722"></span> </div><div id="yiv985529757yui_3_2_0_17_13280910629061869" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "><span id="yiv985529757yui_3_2_0_17_13280910629061725">The secret police accused Father Josef Toufar of staging a fake miracle in 1949. The miracle was the tipping and swaying of a cross in the church. Today there is still no explanation of why the cross moved. Father Toufar had his back to this cross during Mass. Secret police worked in the church for awhile, hitching up wires under the cross. This did not make the cross move. Then they tortured Fr. Toufer trying to get him to admit he'd faked<var id="yiv985529757yui-ie-cursor" style="font-style: normal; "></var> this. He is buried in the church yard after having been tortured to death in 1950.</span></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "><span id="yiv985529757yui_3_2_0_17_13280910629063603"></span> </div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "><span id="yiv985529757yui_3_2_0_17_13280910629063606">Thus began the persecution of the clergy, nuns, and monks. Many were imprisoned; 65 died in prison.or were executed there. The secret police made a movie. First they dressed Toufar and propped him up. He fainted, went into a coma, and died. Then they dressed up a secret police in robes and used wires in the church. This movie was released for all of Czechoslovkia, but it was never shown in towns near Číhošt.</span></div><div id="yiv985529757yui_3_2_0_17_13280910629064005" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "><span id="yiv985529757yui_3_2_0_17_13280910629061704"></span> </div><div id="yiv985529757yui_3_2_0_17_13280910629064060" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "><span id="yiv985529757yui_3_2_0_17_13280910629064012">As a side note, Číhošt is at the geographical crossroads of the Czech Republic. Go there and ask someone to show you the exact spot.</span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38660614.post-81200301867394181392012-01-03T13:48:00.003-05:002012-01-03T15:52:34.148-05:00February 2012 - Before we moved here<span style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); ">My husband, George, youngest daughter Ann, and I first came to Czechoslovakia in April 1990. You still had to get visas, so we visited the embassy in Vienna, pointed there by Schwartzenburg's office manager. She also arranged a meeting for us with Schwartzenburg. Over tea and coffee all he told us was pertinent as we explored this country soon afterwards. He suggested we talk with the farm collective, meet people in Obecny Forum, and talk with town and village people. For now, lawyers could not help us much as so many things were still in flux.</span><br style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "><br style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "><span style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); ">The next day we drove to Czechoslovakia. The young border guard greeted us in his best English – “Ciao, Baby” Later, we pulled up at the Zámek and walked through to the farmyard. A man getting manure for his fruit trees said, “I know you. You were in 4th grade when I was in 2nd grade. Everyone here says "Now George will come back.” That is so amazing after more than 40 years.</span><br style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "><br style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "><span style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); ">We spent the night in a Tabor hotel. On Sunday we returned and tried to go to church. The priest had gone to Prague to see the Pope. This was the first ever visit by a pope to this country. Then we went looking for Obecny Forum in another town. Two women there, Lída and Jaruška, were about to close the office. Lída invited us to her apartment, while Jaruška had to go home. Lída talked non-stop when she fixed coffee and started lunch for us. She talked all about the Velvet Revolution. George translated for us. I thought Lída was using the work protože excessively. Why would anyone need to talk about proteges so many times – even though the Velvet Revolution had had so many students in it? Later I found out that protože means because. Then Lída's husband was in the hallway. She went out, calling, “ I have 3 Americans (Amící) in the living room!!” Jaruška came and we talked for the rest of the afternoon. </span><br style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "><br style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "><span style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); ">Back at the Tabor hotel we were in the dining room when someone came flying in, This was Boženka, George's classmate. (1st to 4th grade.). Her daughter Hana got her to take her curlers out after she'd talked with Jaruška who'd told her the news. “And when it rained, George, I could always go to school in the coach with you.” (In WW II fuel was extremely limited.)</span><br style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "><br style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "><span style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); ">The next day George talked with people at the farm collective. That afternoon of course we were invited to Boženka's and her husband Franta's apartment</span><br style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "><br style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "><span style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); ">One of the members of our family had had a dream five years earlier.The view we saw as we drove into the Zámek, had been in the dream – the falling down shack off to the side, the velorex, a cloth-covered three-wheeled vehicle (an auto?), the fallen-down gate. This indicates how importantly Brezina figured in our children's minds long before we could ever come here.</span><br style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "><br style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "><span style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); ">When we visited our brickyard, I picked up two bricks and took them home with me.to Saudi Arabia where we lived then. I had to make a shipment to USA and added these bricks. I wrapped them up for our oldest daughter's birthday. A young friend said “My mother does a lot of crazy things, but she would never have given me bricks for my birthday!" Our daughter said they were very special bricks which she was happy to have. She uses them for doorstops.</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38660614.post-55206904085446476602012-01-03T13:46:00.002-05:002012-01-03T13:48:16.943-05:00Memories of Havel<span style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); ">MEMORIES OF HAVEL</span><br style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "><br style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "><span style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); ">I would have loved meeting Havel. Many people with connections to us did meet him.</span><br style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "><span style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); ">When we visited them, the Baron said to his daughter: "Now, when I introduce you to Havel, you cannot say 'Jak se maš' " !</span><br style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "><br style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "><span style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); ">Several friends, members of women's group, worked in Havel's Hradčany office. They had good things to say about him.</span><br style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "><br style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "><span style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); ">Our daughter Alice worked for the Philadelphia City Council, and in that capacity occasionally volunteered for the Philadelphia Chamber of Commerce. Havel was coming to the U.S. to receive the Philadelphia Liberty Medal on July 4, 1994. Because of her Czech connection, her great admiration for Havel, and because we already lived here, she was asked to assist in the dinner honoring Havel the evening before. On that evening, she arrived two hours early to make certain that all was in place. </span><br style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "><br style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "><span style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); ">Finally Havel arrived. Alice stepped up to greet him: "Dobre večer. Vitejme vas." But his guards pushed past her, hurrying Havel on into the room. Chamber officials made sure that Alice had an opportunity later in the evening to shake Havel's hand and have a brief word.</span><br style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "><br style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "><span style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); ">The next day, the Fourth of July, we had a party, but I was eagerly anticipating the CNN televising of the ceremony. We told several Czech friends at our party. They were quite skeptical, not believing that Alice had arranged anything or that Havel was getting a medal. It was indeed on television - but very quickly finished. Alice watched the awards ceremony on closed circuit TV with Philadelphia Wilma Theatre owners Jiří & Blanka Žizka, and actor F. Murray Abraham.</span><br style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "><br style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "><span style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); ">In Havel's acceptance speech of the Liberty Medal, he said: "The idea of human rights and freedoms must be an integral part of any meaningful world order. Yet I think it must be anchored in a different place, and in a different way, than has been the case so far. If it is to be more than just a slogan mocked by half the world, it cannot be expressed in the language of departing era, and it must not be mere froth floating on the subsiding waters of faith in a purely scientific relationship to the world."</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38660614.post-76181386004173247692011-11-05T12:40:00.001-04:002011-11-05T12:43:03.093-04:00Very Special Gifts<div>Grandchildren often make drawings and paintings for us. Recently we got a letter from the youngest, a four year old. There were two words - her name and "LOVE". When she was only two years old she looked around supermarkets for me – in North Carolina! But I am here, in the Czech Republic, so her looking for me is a gift of sorts.</div><div><br /></div><div>Grandchildren give me other gifts, both incidental and Christmas and birthday gifts. I have two coasters. One is from a zoo, with a lion on it. I don't know if it was a give-away or was purchased. The other one is obviously a crafts project – all blue decorations, scratched into a blue layer and with unevenly cut edges. The most ordinary gift, appearing like other ordinary gifts, is two short wide-mouthed jars with red plastic lids decorated with green pears. Of course I immediately threw out some other jars, storing herbs in these on a shelf.</div><div><br /></div><div>Lately I've received a rash of objects made from lanyard plastic lengths. It began with key holders, proceeding onward to lanyard knotting covering pen bodies. The key holders you would not want to use for your major key collections as they are not strong enough. The pens are of a nice size to fit in a box of stationary or Christmas cards.</div><div><br /></div><div>I have a cute little house made of coffee stirrers sitting on green paper. Grass?. Good thing I live in a Zámek, so I have room for all this stuff.</div><div><br /></div><div>One Christmas I received a set of jewelry. The bracelet broke first. The set is plastic and glass beads held together with bits of wire, The necklace broke next. I still have the earrings which I often wear when our grandaughter is joining us for dinner. Sometimes someone else says, “You don't want to wear those junky earrings, do you?” Oh, yes I do, I definitely do.</div><div><br /></div><div>Who wants junky jewelry, paper and stick cottages, unevenly cut coasters? Would anyone? Well, yes, a grandmother would, that's who. And mothers and fathers, aunts and uncles. May your holidays gift you with presents which are close to your heart! I expect and hope I will receive a few more.</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38660614.post-9876584810738795372011-09-12T04:41:00.001-04:002011-09-12T04:41:54.869-04:00<span><br /><br />One of the first meetings I ever attended was at the Diplomat Hotel. Ivan Klíma spoke. (I know that he spoke again in a recent year.) He talked about time he'd spent in America, he talked about his books, he talked about getting rid of communism. I was especially lured by <span style="font-style:italic;">My Golden Trades</span>, buying it very soon, reading it, and highly recommending it to others, but not actually forcing them to read it! Now and then I read it again.<br /><br />At an early Christmas bazaar in the Pyramid Hotel I worked at the Canadian-USA table with Joan Drabek who became a very good friend. Even at that first meeting we enjoyed working together. When I went home I told my husband about her. It turned out that he had been interviewed by her father-in-law for Voice of America in 1963. Joan and her husband Jan visited us, spending a month of vacation here in 1996 and coming to two of our children's weddings in 1997. Joan served as president of Women's Group later. We also visited them in their apartment in Prague. Jan worked for Havel in Prague and elsewhere, but he also is an author. We have and have read some of his books.<br /><br />George and have have gone to 6 Balls, always with others - an artist friend and 2 of our children; Aunt Hana and her granddaughter at the Forum; friends from Canada at the Marriott; President Anja Haanpas and friends at the Citizens' Building on namestí Míru; and my mother-in-law at the Marriott and at the Prague Castle. The first ball was at the Diplomat Hotel. Edna, our artist friend had been restoring a fresco in the chapel. Caroline was working at the Prague Post, David was working with us. We won several prizes at the ball!! I yielded to someone's entreaty for the stuffed animal, but Edna and I most happily used the coupon for a delicious lunch at Parma Restaurant!<br /><br />We have enjoyed visits from group members. One day Linda, Grace, and Jane arrived here. It was great talking with all of them. Linda was a ballet teacher from Cape Town, who was sending her son to Czech schools where he was doing just fine. Linda showed how she had asked for eggs when she'd forgotten the word in Czech. She flapped her "wings" and clucked, setting all in the grocery store laughing. Jane had been in the film world. Later we went to a reception and a Turkish restaurant with then. Jane bought a king size bed from us - at that time I had to have the mattress made by an upholsterer here. I'm still friends with Grace. Her then teenaged daughter spent several weeks here and planted flowers to bloom for some weddings.<br /><br />Our first Charity Group chairwoman was Elizabeth Poulsen-Hansen. She and I developed a little exchange - <span style="text-decoration:underline;">Fokus</span>, a sheltered workshop in Pelhrimov, made slippers. Women's Group paid for them, I took the slippers to Elizabeth who gave them to people in the refugee camps in northern Bohemia. This was continued until the refugees did not want any more slippers and the Fokus workshop people did not want to make any more!<br /><br />Elizabeth and her family planned to come visit us. However, it happened that Olga Havlová would open our first Christmas Bazaar, so Elizabeth had to stay in Prague. Her husband, the Danish ambassador, and his friend, the Finnish ambassador, did come. The men had wanted to go on a hunt, so my husband and our son arranged it. The ladies who helped me baked and prepared refreshments. After the hunt some Czech folk dancers performed. I was sorry that Elizabeth could not come. We visited them at their home in Copenhagen later on.<br /></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38660614.post-61783038638171572772011-09-12T02:45:00.004-04:002011-09-15T19:44:05.445-04:00Beginning the Facade at Last!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP6bYMWbBBLgU4Lyp9Ow6eJUlIK8R_CZiWXuBuztasb1E210ypvJtK_U4D6-YyjryJhffpSTkUT3rnN6Cpq7woLeQ7Z11XsDaFi0tw140gUzMqlmcgxorBaYu5kRZwMZLS7YEJGA/s1600/8.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP6bYMWbBBLgU4Lyp9Ow6eJUlIK8R_CZiWXuBuztasb1E210ypvJtK_U4D6-YyjryJhffpSTkUT3rnN6Cpq7woLeQ7Z11XsDaFi0tw140gUzMqlmcgxorBaYu5kRZwMZLS7YEJGA/s320/8.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5652028165049957506" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span">As you are about to get dressed someone walks past your window. You quickly close the shutters. But what would you do if the room you're in is on the second floor [European/British first floor]?? This is very startling. The bricklayers had moved the scaffolding around a corner and now were walking on the planks outside the window. We'd hoped for repairs to the facade for many years. Right now just the<br />facade of the chapel is being repaired. The chapel is not a separate building - it's at the western corner<br />of the Zámek. They had repaired the western side and the sacristy and now were starting on the south side, facing the platz.<br /><br />Some outside re</span><span class="Apple-style-span">pairs were done immediately, notably windows. Windows were broken, frames and/or glass. We were going to live here all winter! Some window openings were only openings, some had flapping frames with glass on the ground or on the inside floor. Some were covered with plastic. A few were boarded up.<br /><br /><br /><br />The first Christmas eve we thought someone was trying noisily to break in. It was a flapping window.<br /><br />A carpenter friend came to insure that all windows had glass and framing. In rooms we were living that first winter he fixed </span><div><br /></div><div>double windows. In rooms we only walked through he fixed single windows. He warned me never to open a certain window in the Grand Dining Room. If I had, it would have crashed below. Then he returned to his wood shop to make enough frames for the whole Zámek. As was typical of him, he made many more. Later we used some for screen windows in summers warm enough for screens! A glazier very skillfully filled all the new window frames - that is, of as many as we needed.<div><div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRgCC4Du57AnycqSSpnX6xAxTV5AZdEcB38O8nuxMpFVrtrmC3QNKEW_V8TKFdhm6O6HyF5462w2YdUbw3S21UYtTVP3tJLiypSNqirP0W5OtTe8lQJVuX9SFFVB_0vU6-4ziNSg/s320/7.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5652027274360617378" style="float: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; cursor: pointer; width: 288px; height: 209px; " /></div></div><br />Did you ever read <span style="font-style:italic;">Kidnapped</span>? Remember the wicked uncle sending the boy up a stairway? Only a flash of </div><div>lightening saved the boy from stepping off into nothingness. We had a balcony like that. There was a wall with a door, so we were not in very great danger. But there was no balcony. Father and son blacksmiths visited, looking for work. We ordered a new lacy stairwell surround, an iron bed, and a half-round table. Then my husband commissioned the new balcony. When it arrived we hired a crane to lift it up. The same glazier added the glass it needed.</div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><br />Today the balcony is filled with plants, the half-round iron table, and a wicker settee. It is a lovely place to sit and read, or just relax and gaze outside.<br /><br />;</span></div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhuZ0Kz7je2mTIi-fCVB8wzp0R1iencCKTZDt5AE8tTBTZWa_slbICxF1g1SqB7tXYZdTngGPsW8PrRwsqfOdL0K_ciL9ykqLxuNxKYi0Mv4mXQi3lJ9-2FgbMP3nTvK0eerb_Iw/s320/le%25C5%25A1en%25C3%25AD+001.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5652735482809629058" style="float: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span">In George's grandmother's bedroom was a hole to the stars [or to sun, clouds, rain, hail, snow ] We fixed the </span></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span">hole and reroofed the first spring.<br /><br />The facade very badly and still needs restoration.but many other things clamored for money. Outfitting carpenter shops, farm machinery, seeds, fertilizer, hiring a few workers were important needs. The facade waited in its dilapadated state. At last a grant became available. Little by little the facade its regaining its High-Baroque gold.<br /></span></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38660614.post-57538767984309794772011-08-03T02:19:00.004-04:002011-09-15T19:38:56.628-04:00Art lessonsSeveral well-known artists have been connected to the Zámek, but perhaps the first to give art lessons was the sculptor, Vaclav Icha. In WWII universities were closed, and students sent to work camps. So, you'd offer students important jobs, such as on a farm. Vaclav Icha, a sculptor, had been my father-in-law's roommate, along with Prince Karel Schwartzenberg V, at cavalry school in Pardubice. He sculpted George's grandmother and sketched.Mostly Icha is remembered for making "bathtub gin" and partying. However, he did teach my husband, then a small boy, to sketch. My husband still draws in the style Icha taught him!<br /><br />Other artists connected somewhat to us are Jan Autengruber, painter, who courted Zdenka, a family member, but didn't marry her. He died of pneumonia.at only 33. I found a few of his paintings on internet.<br /><br /><br />Another artist was Vilem Pistorius, an especially excellent painter of horses. He lived at a nearby zámek with his wife. Many of his paintings were on our wall.. After they sold their estate, Mrs. Pestorius often came from Prague to visit my husband's grandmother.<br /><br />Today, Ivan Smilauer lives nearby, painting and sculptiing. In summer he sculpts great, beautiful pieces in one of our barns. He is a friend of Zoubek, doing some exhibits with him.<br /><br />Two of Karel Simunek's paintings are on the walls. One is of the chapel dome and the other is the zamek from a hill. He spent some time here, but no one today knows when he did. His dates are 1869 - 1942.<br /><br />Our son's brother-in-law , Petr Hempl has done much work here. There's a formal portrait of a Polish officer, a lovely sketch of the Zamek, posters for a nearby 400 year celebration, a contemporary portrait of my husband and me behind the chapel, surrounded by impressionistic foliage. The Grand Dining Room features his painting of General Helidor Pika who came to the last hunt in 1947. Hempl has done some restorations here, also - a large painting of the Prague skyline, sprucing up St. Florian in the chapel, some work on the library fresco. For that fresco it was tremendous watching him, with a few brush strokes, bringing out a face.<br /><br />Our young artist frie<img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPomobdWBzTewyuGFl6AuPKvMOaTfBL-ApFXiSW4bHCAieHSszZgVQ4jnZTzRhvtT98c5lXcLxPmVYkABYZ3gtgswjmxMNBYAnCQ5t73dOmk4vzEDUyTWWEKjqj3aOwcbsfT5zlg/s320/foto+003.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5652734296086677170" style="float: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " />nd,<div> <a href="http://www.talkingwallsnyc.com/">Michael Loughlin</a>, stayed here one summer, Petr showed him how to restore the Saint Jan Neponuk fresco in the chapel. Petr restored the painting of The Fourteen Auxilliary Saints in the chapel. It was full of <div>holes!<br />The artist who gave lessons here this summer is not as yet famous. She worked here on vacation from art university in Prague, mostly working in the kitchen. Grandchildren arrived. What a great opportunity! The boys, Sam, 6 1/2 and Ben, 8 1/2 and the girls, Charlotte, 9, Maisie, 7,and Taylor, 3 1/2 were all very, very interested in art lessons.<br /><br />We thought that outside at a big table was the ideal spot, but it was not comfortable, as it was quite cold that day. After breakfast and the workers coffee break was cleaned up, the art teacher and her translator, another college student who's worked here seven summers, covered the long table in the kitchen with newspaper, laid out art paper, and set out leaves, grasses, a few flowers by each paper. Each painted his/her bits of nature with acrylic paints, using the leaf or grass to make a print on the paper. There was still another step. These prints on the paper were then made into animals with paints or crayons. A small leaf might be an eye; a flower might be hair, a long grass might be legs.<br /><br />The next<img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUE_8mw1fpL_ZVczKlfxVV2F0Tc7qvRwePd77AHRbKF23LqjMtK4aReuXmpEuVAdGZWG13HzxlCN6BDTceMUKFMNifJaDKR8HX6CMNbIw8xtdINCbjcGkT6BYZ06GxXIuXP3_2gw/s320/foto+002.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5652021764742248402" style="float: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; cursor: pointer; width: 288px; height: 216px; " /> project was covering a piece of paper with crayon in stripes, or circles or as one wished. Then, this was painted completely with black ink. When the ink had dried, a picture could be scratched on the black paper, letting the colors show. Again the teacher suggested animals. The younger boy, Sam, drew a dragon made of cotton-candy. It looked as if the dragon were leaving puffs of himself, everywhere he went.<br /><br />Two days later the girls went home to America, but the boys begged for another art lesson, preferring the black ink on crayon. It was interesting - the girls packed up their pictures, but when the boys were finished, they were finished.</div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38660614.post-39673163076453482102011-06-07T11:55:00.004-04:002011-06-07T12:00:29.877-04:00Sheep and Bees<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJE5mwJxJIKLhiSiggOpEsHasAffdjYX3pin12YKkLEfehx-CH6FmzQ_8hwGJrfOSKWYUPmJenpDcyOZjz11MrobHE5VW7Wkc4EaBfYqJSFAnW8ut51zatCzVObuk2fShyphenhyphen8J6MvA/s1600/sheep2.jpg"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 255px; height: 191px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJE5mwJxJIKLhiSiggOpEsHasAffdjYX3pin12YKkLEfehx-CH6FmzQ_8hwGJrfOSKWYUPmJenpDcyOZjz11MrobHE5VW7Wkc4EaBfYqJSFAnW8ut51zatCzVObuk2fShyphenhyphen8J6MvA/s320/sheep2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615507702771615922" border="0" /></a><br />My husband, George, went out one evening to put the sheep in their fold, as we usually do. Normally they are waiting just outside the fold when he comes with the bucket of snacks. This evening they were already inside, very quiet and tense. He thought, "This is a little strange". when our golden retriever, inside the yard gate, began barking furiously. He looked up to see two men going out the gate.<br /><br />One, he thought, was dressed like a cowboy - white clothing with colorful detailing and having a large hat on his head. A sombrero?? So, George went to talk with them. The "cowboy<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCj1kpdhl7r4J_lGBPrZ4pJj14QCKn97hHwInYtWy9MGA01ejPAVJPNxAm6PuEsSA9wu9cv5uFYVm1tzYHuAxnUVeqldLeSKKhD5zuBjIyHYOb4stfsVASdA94tCvDzEjSyNajmQ/s1600/fuse.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 222px; height: 166px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCj1kpdhl7r4J_lGBPrZ4pJj14QCKn97hHwInYtWy9MGA01ejPAVJPNxAm6PuEsSA9wu9cv5uFYVm1tzYHuAxnUVeqldLeSKKhD5zuBjIyHYOb4stfsVASdA94tCvDzEjSyNajmQ/s320/fuse.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615507898840700434" border="0" /></a>" was actually a bee keeper and had come to collect bees which were making their home in a fuse box. The large hat was a bee-keeper's hat, covered in the typical mesh. That is why George had not been able to see his face. (He is someone we know.) He asked if they had caught the queen. They had. All the bees were in his special box which he was taking a<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQin0ZOK3ZSS5gpab3xr2Blx6ZKMB1bN2W71RdRTOR-J6WiqcH5EwWieQEdhq3ZPTnCw374tWArzrgERXTxPnLgVzznvXPJpPZgKzAxHdbWP6OB0Nnxg_AyzgNkWnm_LjuoFkHdA/s1600/sheep1.jpg"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 226px; height: 169px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQin0ZOK3ZSS5gpab3xr2Blx6ZKMB1bN2W71RdRTOR-J6WiqcH5EwWieQEdhq3ZPTnCw374tWArzrgERXTxPnLgVzznvXPJpPZgKzAxHdbWP6OB0Nnxg_AyzgNkWnm_LjuoFkHdA/s320/sheep1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615508064477324962" border="0" /></a>way.<br /><br />The sheep had not liked the sounds outside - the angry buzzing, two men they did not know - so they had slipped into the fold very quietly.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38660614.post-17782820090251664362011-04-04T03:48:00.001-04:002011-04-04T03:50:08.206-04:00<span style="font-family:Tahoma;font-size:85%;"><br /></span><br /><div style="font-family: arial,helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /><div style="font-family: arial,helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"><div style="font-family: times new roman,new york,times,serif; font-size: 12pt;"><div style="font-family: arial,helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"><div style="font-family: arial,helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"><div style="font-family: arial,helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"><div style="font-family: arial,helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"><div style="font-family: arial,helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"><div style="font-family: tahoma,new york,times,serif; font-size: 12pt;"><div style="font-family: tahoma,new york,times,serif; font-size: 12pt;"><div style="font-family: tahoma,new york,times,serif; font-size: 12pt; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><div>I did do other things in DWG, but the most interesting & the most fun were the 5 years I spent as the Welfare Chairman. In this article I will mention some names of women who worked with me, but please realize, that I, having left Saudi almost 20 years ago, and Dhahran for RT before then, I simply don't remember all the names of people who worked so well with us. Several names have reappeared as I've been working on this, but not nearly all.<br /><br />We organized people to run clothing drives for refugees, and supported women's nursing scholarships in the Middle East. Once I had 10,000 blankets to give away! In the place where the blankets were stored, many Saudi men worked. It was fun visiting with them and talking about their villages. Many were in the village charitable societies, so we arranged blankets to go to these societies. Many went out of the country to refugees.<br /><br />We really loved cooperating with various women's charitable societies. We had an Arab cooking class at their place and they came to our place for an American cooking class. We were invited to homes. We went to oasis villages to give educational aids and show their use. Once we had a nursery school workshop in Dhahran. Many ideas were presented by Welfare Committee members and by nursery school teachers who joined us for this special day. Women from the Al Khobar nursery school who had more resources, afterwards themselves helped village societies with their nursery schools.<br /><br />However it was amazing to see how those village women had worked to fix their schools and to prepare themselves to lead. Many got books from the boys' schools, studying at home, and going back eventually to take the exams for their high school degrees. I was so impressed that some of the grandmothers had encouraged this program.<br /><br />Western women thanked me, too, for the treasuring those contacts.<br /><br />Students had opportunities to work on clothing drives! This was not volunteer work - I drafted Girl Scouts and Boy Scouts and returning students and some others. Well, they needed service hours.... Of course, DWG members helped, too. Art Kelberer facilitated the movement of the clothes up the Tapline. Recently one of our daughters asked if those big boxes we'd had in the hallway were for clothing drives. Yes, they were. We once took clothes to Greece; people going on a trip to Pakistan took some suitcases. In the papers of the Welfare Committee I found a wonderful little note. Someone asked Tom Barger for help for people in terrible floods in Italy. He'd written on that paper - 'try the women's group'. Kathleen took hold, sending many tons of clothing.<br /><br />Ruth Edmondson, living down the alley from me was DWG president. She said one day," Barbara, now you are the Welfare Committee chairman." I wasn't certain I loved this information. What should I do? There were almost no references to find. Kate Crawford wrote letters, having them translated as needed, and had checks issued for the charities we supported. People told me to talk with Ellen Speers, but Ellen was in Houston for a year. The Speers did come back to Dhahran later, and Ellen was very helpful. Someone found the files for me.<br /><br />Some letters with checks were taken to Qatif and Hofuf by a DWG member in a taxi. This is how the visits to the societies began. We were sometimes asked for further assistance. Soon, we expanded the project. Margaret Woodhams, a school music teacher, threw herself into this. Drawing lessons, help for the nursery schools, the cooking lessons mentioned already, private visits. Once my friend, Karen Irwin who speaks Arabic, and I, with our daughters Chandra and Alice, went to Tarut Island Charitable Society. It was a lovely morning. Of course, the girls wouldn't talk, but we made up for that!<br /><br />One very helpful person in making contacts with the Arab women was Mr. Nawab, the head of Public Relations. He was very much in favor of our programs and helped facilitate some of them.<br /><br />When Mary Eddy lived in Dhahran she was one of three women who really got the welfare program off the ground. When Norah Barger visited she said that Mary Eddy's family had made her move from New Hampshire to New Jersey [I think NJ], because, in her 80's, she was still skiing the NH hills! Do you still send scholarships to the Mary Eddy nursing program at the American University of Beruit?<br /><br />Now I will tell you more about Norah Barger's visit. She was working with Catholic Near East Welfare in Jordan, came to visit her sister, Annie Hebert. I asked her to speak to the welfare committee, as well as some visiting vice-presidents' wives. Of course it was interesting, and wonderful to have someone directly working with one of our charities speaking to us.<br /><br />One woman who worked on some of our programs, Louel Larkin, is betterknown for her work in organizing the hospital volunteer program. When she finally stepped down, perhaps when they were leaving. the program was very well staffed, and running like clockwork. Probably Louel would disput this last. Of course, DWG members were in the program, as well as a number of Saudi women.<br /></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38660614.post-87362315069925138192010-06-03T09:11:00.003-04:002010-06-03T09:21:56.582-04:00The Zamek Store<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYGhT1KYSzZyyWFVV9TrB8FZ_7v1pJkvoxrmyFMP5AOS6o2IUWbxCAUz5KRfJODbuZlGTlPm0_5aRoNf06E-7kXCOAlxnAZkYsYx-7uH5ALNchjS9SoivUFMXAkW_TjthrOFZl5g/s1600/30895_128326973860150_128323060527208_275751_2440945_n.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYGhT1KYSzZyyWFVV9TrB8FZ_7v1pJkvoxrmyFMP5AOS6o2IUWbxCAUz5KRfJODbuZlGTlPm0_5aRoNf06E-7kXCOAlxnAZkYsYx-7uH5ALNchjS9SoivUFMXAkW_TjthrOFZl5g/s320/30895_128326973860150_128323060527208_275751_2440945_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5478536163177671330" border="0" /></a>For several years my husband, our son, and I talked about having a store to sell our wooden products directly to customers. Last year it was built and finally this year it opened. We've had customers every day. Some people are just looking over this new store, but many have bought. Even customers from Prague and Vienna have visited. One of our neighbors often stops by to buy several small items.<br /><br /><br />The store is named after my mother-in-law. Rina's Carpentry Store, or, in Czech, Riny Truhlarsky Obchod. Rina was interested in all aspects of what we do, particularly loving the forests. Many times our forester took her to visit one forest or another. She actually helped in the carpenter shop sometimes when she was 86 years old!<br /><br /><br />Our products are all made of wood from our forests using mainly spruce, birch, pine and beech. These trees were planted by my husband's grandfather after WWI. A large section in the store is devoted to slats for fences or balconies. There are different profiles and varying sizes. These are very popular items. Gates may also be constructed for customers.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTGhIGtVe6dkPT7xlRGZdb0HADnv7BkKM8nfW5VpEP0AMPLbWYH26HoNnOJDQiWUMby9qnx0_PPK2jbz69UHCI5SsbpnUdgLaYeg2fBkw13myEKfgcQ-79dpQjUoNZVM3zzAi6JQ/s1600/30895_128326930526821_128323060527208_275745_2519382_n.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTGhIGtVe6dkPT7xlRGZdb0HADnv7BkKM8nfW5VpEP0AMPLbWYH26HoNnOJDQiWUMby9qnx0_PPK2jbz69UHCI5SsbpnUdgLaYeg2fBkw13myEKfgcQ-79dpQjUoNZVM3zzAi6JQ/s320/30895_128326930526821_128323060527208_275745_2519382_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5478536859369770850" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Popular for gifts, or perhaps for remodeling, are shelving units with open slats, or with solid shelves. Smaller display shelves in varying sizes and designs hang on walls, holding knick-knacks, spices, or even cleaning supplies. The woman who runs the store asked me to provide her with some knick-knacks and mugs. A son-in-law in the USA keeps his Becherovoka on one! From the hooks below the shelves, I have seen soup ladles or aprons or attractive coffee mugs hanging on different people's shelves<br /><br /><br />Several smaller items can be snatched up for gifts – for others, or for yourself! There are two types of knife blocks, wine racks of various sizes, key/coat hangers and a good number of do-nothings. (Do you wonder what this is?)<br /><br /><br />Doors are good sellers. We have some standard types and are able fulfill spe<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTW-ZV5xA5Zz3tUs_Rmhar2y1EbnnvWyWhaDzzZc1r5AnwuL8SX_cw88wJq3_6gB5EM0adC8t3pPzO7WD9SQkYminXoCQTp-1RWNJ1K7x8YxenICHlfxJrv2p-a_2ZsfalKddleg/s1600/30895_128326963860151_128323060527208_275749_3714330_n.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTW-ZV5xA5Zz3tUs_Rmhar2y1EbnnvWyWhaDzzZc1r5AnwuL8SX_cw88wJq3_6gB5EM0adC8t3pPzO7WD9SQkYminXoCQTp-1RWNJ1K7x8YxenICHlfxJrv2p-a_2ZsfalKddleg/s320/30895_128326963860151_128323060527208_275749_3714330_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5478536413839960466" border="0" /></a>cial orders. Many doors have glass inserts and/or are lined in wainscoting.<br /><br /><br />It's really fun to decide on a cupboard or chair or coffee table and have the carpenter make something to order for you. I've done it and love this. Late this winter we made a couple – I guess you might call them freeform – corner cupboards for our dining room.<br /><br /><br />If you want to visit our store, carpenter shop, or forests look on our website [in Czech] for directions. www.plotovky-homolka.cz Or, e-mail me: homolkab@yahoo.com. Maybe the summer will warm up, and we'll drink our tea together on benches on the lawn!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38660614.post-74183297483865435432010-05-15T10:43:00.001-04:002010-05-15T10:44:17.856-04:00Cape Hatteras MemoriesIn anticipation of our family reunion this summer on the Outer Banks:<br /><br />When Leslie was 10 months old, we went camping on Cape Hatteras. Near us another family put up a shade over a table. Useless. Too, too much wind. Our tent did not blow down. I guess we had long tent stacks. But i do remember shoring it up sometimes. Dad couldn't come in the tent with his hat on which he was wearing for sun protection: Leslie would scream!<br /><br />I took Leslie out of the tent only a very little - there was blowing sand & lots of sun. We took her out to see the sunset. Dad went swimming a few times; I also went in the ocean a little. We camped for 3 nights.<br /><br />Now I will tell you about the piece of driftwood Dad has kept on his dresser ever since The last full day we decided to go rowing on Pamlico Sound. It was somewhat windy. The man was happy to rent his boat, but the woman said, "You are taking your baby out there?!?!" She handed me a blanket to wrap her up. They gave us a few tips - but they were not much. In the channel leading to the sound proper the rowing was quite good - but once we were in the sound, it was nearly impossible. Our boat got stuck in some reeds, & Dad had to get out & push it some. When we got back to the rental place Dad realized that he was missing his wallet. He went back to the reedy place while Leslie & I stayed in the house. Of course we prayed. He came back with his wallet. It had been caught in the piece of driftwood in the reedy area.<br /><br />We struck camp the next day & stopped to see the Wilber & Orville Wright's museum, the lighthouse, [Which was moved inland some in 1999.] & the airfield. The first place we stayed the night on the way to D.C. to see Aunt Tania & Uncle Matt was in the area where they catch the wild ponies for a census. At Chincoteague, I guess. The owners of the motel & restaurant had helped with the census. The little boy, probably 4 yrs. old, tied various toy trucks to our table legs - his father said that he had done this ever since the pony census.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38660614.post-20448488418676848292010-03-03T14:15:00.009-05:002010-03-03T14:35:54.356-05:00April 2010 Generations together at the ZamekYou may combine keepsakes with grandchi<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXeBChM9iNZORJTPml7HW74D_3bVgnZOXoVZiGAzGgx9x1ZE_6dl2d7fKuBB6adwWcVVbOw1MU2CXuFp9hIsECtxWfdL5R3NATxyidkdgzbetid8Ahgd5i0lwGTetli9INNOSaPw/s1600-h/cradle.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXeBChM9iNZORJTPml7HW74D_3bVgnZOXoVZiGAzGgx9x1ZE_6dl2d7fKuBB6adwWcVVbOw1MU2CXuFp9hIsECtxWfdL5R3NATxyidkdgzbetid8Ahgd5i0lwGTetli9INNOSaPw/s320/cradle.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444491367086415330" border="0" /></a>ldren for the greatest delight and pleasure. We have a red doll cradle which was given to my grandmother, Dora Markham, on her sixth birthday back in the late 1800's. Her parents could not afford to buy toys for her, but her oldest brother, William Colfax Markham, who had graduated from college and was working, could buy her playthings. My mother, Ruth Clark, received the doll cradle on her sixth birthday, as did I, Barbara Hunt, and our oldest daughter, Leslie Homolka.<br />Our granddaughter's sixth birthday was missed by a year, as we'd had illness in the family. Our carpenter fixed the joints. Kristyna Homolkova and I arranged the bedding – we still have the original bedpad, but I don't know where the blankets are, and bought a new doll. The latest granddaughters to enjoy the cradle are Charlotte and Maisie Tate. This happened while their 18 month old sister was napping! Perhaps I will show the grandsons sometime. It's kept on top of a wardrobe, as it's delicate and over 100 years old. Kristyna loved hearing about the six year olds who had gone before and who are her forebears. Later we found some photos of them. Of course she knows me and her Aunt Leslie.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCGgnbZdZPGsJRqsy2a_45iTpr8izAgn1T8nAn3MMvnWU8MAgIXtyQga89l4CWeOHNfsmNAzwMxPnDfvtxC57P710uXHBm3a4G4Y2iYlZhSuJzYnhiS3RJOs8maiv7GIBF9Gg24A/s1600-h/cards.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCGgnbZdZPGsJRqsy2a_45iTpr8izAgn1T8nAn3MMvnWU8MAgIXtyQga89l4CWeOHNfsmNAzwMxPnDfvtxC57P710uXHBm3a4G4Y2iYlZhSuJzYnhiS3RJOs8maiv7GIBF9Gg24A/s320/cards.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444491523081986514" border="0" /></a><br />Kristyna and I have greatly enjoyed a pack of cards which belonged to my dad, Harold Marquardt Hunt, who was born in 1905. Those cards must be 100 years old, or close to it. Kristyna knows Harold Hunt was my dad, her father's grandfather, and her great-grandfather. It's picture cards and is played like “Go Fish”. Many of those cards have been repaired, but mending tape was not as good when I was a child as it is today. One card is half missing.<br /><br />Many pictures are what might be expected today – apple, orange, banana; elephant, horse, dog; rooster, rabbit, cat, but not all the pictures. The card with a pocket watch on a chain intrigued Kristyna. The card with a department store includes a Morris chair and a high topped shoe. The card with a passenger traincar also has a coal-fired steam locomotive and a hopper of coal. The card with a house also has a stable [well, you might think it a garage.] and a buggy.<br /><br />I've learned the Czech words for 'top': 'kaca' and 'rifle': 'puska'. Kristyna has learned violet, golden rod, and buggy. The cardboard of the cards is brittle, so we do not suffle them, but lay them out, and pick them up. This summer when we go to North Carolina, I think Kristyna and I will take the cards to the Tate girls.<br /><br />Never did I plan to collect little boxes, but nontheless I have a collection. A few<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEkJfKd2HZNezrAEjtogkx4voD5zCiMC2Xr1-mQi4X4jZ5wWuj6sFkh7Yaagn9-fny3a5FO1-SiWnBbrA8-rrQqfQ23Kdl-n-33n3kNjzxyi9ZNO8tdLzLD456ap1R7PaMG1kb6g/s1600-h/boxes.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEkJfKd2HZNezrAEjtogkx4voD5zCiMC2Xr1-mQi4X4jZ5wWuj6sFkh7Yaagn9-fny3a5FO1-SiWnBbrA8-rrQqfQ23Kdl-n-33n3kNjzxyi9ZNO8tdLzLD456ap1R7PaMG1kb6g/s320/boxes.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444493271110382258" border="0" /></a> boxes are from our travels, such as a tin box, replica of Sledmere Manor, north of York, which was full of sweets. Boxes inlaid with lapis lazuli are from my trip to Afghanistan, Many boxes are hand-me-downs from my mother, mother-in-law, and step-grandmother. There are several compacts from the 1930's; a child's paintbox from the teens, along with linen helf-sleeves to protect the Sunday dress; a 1920's celluloid dresser set, complete with chamois to buff one's nails. We have porcelain, glass, leather, metal boxes. A wooden box contains a 100 year old fan. Kristyna and I will have fun with all of them, and then I'll share them with the other grandchildren as time goes on.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38660614.post-71918744952170146752009-06-17T16:44:00.001-04:002009-06-17T16:46:03.981-04:00Summer Issue- 2009We've had three summer weddings here. One year a daughter and our son had their weddings, and another year, another daughter. Of course there was much joy, partying, visiting with family and friends.. For the daughters' weddings we hired a man with horses and a coach who gave guests and helpers rides around some fields and forests. Along with the joyfulness of the ceremonies and parties we experienced some hitches and difficulties.<br /><br />One important family member from the States told us that she was coming for the week before the wedding. Thinking of the complications about to arise, I strongly suggested she stay for the week afterward! She thought about this for about 20 seconds, before saying that, no she would come the week beforehand! I mentally tore my hair, wondering how to manage. I made arrangements to rent a bus for a week. We planned the itinerary – picking up guests in Prague and delivering them to local hotels, supper and music at a vinarna, a visit to Cesky Budejovice and Krumlov, a trip to the glass factory with lunch following, a visit to Orlik with an evening barbecue on their restaurant patio, another evening grilling lamb on a sheep farm. Some stateside guests rented cars, but most relied on our bus.<br /><br />Many people were very helpful. The bride's roommate arrived mid-afternoon while our youngest daughter was agonizing over the wedding cake assembly. Instead of going to play Pitch with the university friends, the roommate stayed, talking the very nervous cook and decorator through the process.. A nearby organic farm gave us fresh roses for the cake decorations.<br /><br />A few people acted as saboteurs. A couple people insisted on inviting guests for coffee, on one of the remaining weekends I had to work on writing and sending faxes. Also, after several months, the caterers hadn't gotten back to us. I sent a letter to them saying that we would have a number of important people who would expect good food: “several authors of books, a former ambassador, a signer of Charter 77, the daughter of a Czech senator [Not bothering to mention that this had been in the First Republic!], someone who had set-up a dinner for Havel when he was in the states”, and so on. I got a quick phone call: “Didn't you get our fax?” They quickly faxed their offer! However, I am certain they had not faxed earlier! Finally, while I was sending out a group of helpers to gather branches to arrange in two painted milk cans, someone else grabbed them, setting them to scrubbing the chapel door! This did no good. [A few years later it was painted.]<br /><br />The bride's dress was remade from her great-grandmother's. Unfortunately a new set of bridesmaids' dresses had to be ordered! One bridesmaid was now pregnant! All the women staying here spent the morning decorating the chapel and tables on the Platz with flowers. I removed ORANGE flowers from the altar, replacing them with the pastels I'd wanted! I gave one woman who would read the intercessory prayers bits of papers to arrange for reading. Instead, she worked on flowers; during the service she had to shuffle those papers!<br /><br />For our son's wedding the bride's family of course planned dress, flowers, reception. I went to the factory which makes material, buying a long roll of sturdy red cloth to run up the aisle of our chapel. Helpers fixed refreshments here for those invited to the ceremony, but not to the reception.<br /><br />A nearby dressmaker fashioned the dress for our other daughter, washable silk and beautiful lace for sleeves, which we'd chosen in Vienna. She fainted at the final fitting, alarming the dressmaker who phoned us. We picked her up as planned and all was well.<br /><br />The deacon from the nearby monastery brought a lovely bouquet. We asked if it was from the abbot. “No, they are from the archbishop.” !!! We finally unraveled that mystery. A cousin who had done some translations for him, sat next to him at a special mass on Vysehrad.. We could just imagine her saying to him, “I am going to a lovely zamek for a wedding in a lovely family in the Highlands!”<br /><br />Standing on the platform with the deacon and his bride, the groom realized that he had left the rings upstairs in his room! Somehow he communicated this to a friend in the middle of the chapel who somehow where realized the rings were. She slipped out the side door, went to a dresser drawer, and brought back the rings, delivering them safely to the groom!<br /><br />Both of our daughters' wedding receptions ended with a big thunderstorm. Guests flew around the Platz, bringing in food and dishes and taking down tents, before heading for shelter. The second caterer told me later it was if the kitchen were full of ants scurrying around!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38660614.post-66210523933504533702009-04-03T09:06:00.001-04:002009-04-03T09:09:43.669-04:00My Czech TreasuresIn the operetta, "Cikansky Baron", the protagonist returns home to a ruined estate and, after many adventures, finds a treasure, a trunk of gold coins. I came with my husband when he returned to his ruined estate; we continually have adventures. I found an old trunk his family had used for boots; chickens had been nesting in it. It was not filled with gold coins.<br /> <br />My treasure I found elsewhere. That it was so unexpected intensifies its value for me. My treasure is our relatives. Some my husband knew as a child, with some few we corresponded, and some, even fewer, we met in England & Germany. Of course, many were not born yet when my husband & his parents left.<br /> <br />In April 1990 my husband, our junior high daughter, and I went to Litomerice to see Uncle John and Aunt Irene whom we'd met once in Oxford, England. Uncle John used to send us things - phonograph records: the lovely J.J.Ryba baroque Christmas mass, and a Karel Gott 45; and a Lada calendar and Lada prints for the children. From that April '90 visit I have a wonderful photo of Uncle John showing my husband the surrender papers which had been given him in 1945, and which he had kept hidden for over forty years. Aunt Irene was rushing out to buy ham, cheese, and rolls for us.<br /> <br />In August 1990, I arrived at the Pilsen train station with four of our nearly adult children, and my mother-in-law. We were looking out of the train, to see who was meeting us and wondering if we would know them. Suddenly I realized that almost all the people stretched out along the platform were there for us. There was a little old lady I was certain was someone special. Later, I found out how very special she is. She's my husband's aunt and, with her husband, his uncle, had facilitated their route out of Czechoslovakia. There were 3 of my husband's first cousins, and some spouses; 5 of my children's second cousins. We hardly knew these people existed.<br /> <br />In cars and a farm truck, we were carted off to the village mill which my husband's grandmother had run. I actually had the address in my address book, but had no idea what it meant. We saw the weir island with its ancient huge hollow tree where every year the children put on a play, "fairies" emerging from the hollow tree. We ate and drank, laughed and talked, in a mixture of languages - Czech, English, German. Peter, a second cousin took us to see an ancient castle ruin, which once was a beacon, when fires were lit, on the route to Prague. In the evening we sat around a fireplace & sang. We all learned "The Mill Doesn't Run Any More", "Nemelem nemelem". But my husband's cousin, Joe, was trying: he is producing electricity. One of my daughters went to bed first. She was highly startled when her second cousin walked through, the rooms being interconnected, as typical of a Czech house. "WHY is Leslie (eldest sister) here?!!" "No, she's your second cousin, Katya!"<br /> <br />There's Jane, a loving homebody. Before I learned Czech we communicated just with smiles, and appreciation of her meals. She and Georgiana both like to try new recipes. Another Jane speaks English, and is sensible, outgoing, and, also, caring. Olga is full of enthusiasm, loves adventure and was in the big Sokol parade with Havel. There's Eva, with whom I used a dictionary to speak together in German, hers much better than mine; years later I was her confirmation sponsor. Her husband, Thomas, still later, did a reading at our daughter's wedding. There was Vasek to whose retroactive Charles University medical school graduation we went. Havel instituted these graduations for people who had been thrown out of university in 1949. There was Cousin Irene, very precise, organized, and interested in art.<br /> <br />Cousins Slavoj and Milada scurried around introducing people to each other. IWAP's support of the Zbraslav children's home was a result of Slavoj's introductions because his cousin who worked there asked me for help. There's Hana who was one of the first signers of Charter '77. There's Joe who's a computer genius. There's Margaret who brought her boyfriend, now her husband, for a visit, remembering how our girls took her on a picnic for her namesday, when she, only 8, had been dropped off with us to practice her English! She's now an elegant young woman and the mother of a little girl. There's Kathy, and Peter, Paul, and Katy, who thank us for visiting, as if we, not they, had provided hospitality.<br /> <br />Aunt Hana, who died at age 95 a few years ago, plied us with constant tidbits of the art, history, and architecture of Prague. When young, she listened to Ema Destinova* singing from the Vysehrad while she stood with her family across the Vltava below. 'Her voice was so clear! You know, it was before the days of microphones, but we heard her perfectly.'<br /> <br />I treasure all of these people. Certainly I could use a trunk full of gold coins; oh, yes, I could. However, my Czech treasure is truly of lasting value to me.<br /><br />*Ema Destinova was a famous and beloved singer and opera star. You may look at her face on the 2000 Kc. note, or read her plaque at the entrance to the National Theater.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38660614.post-63616939394146772812009-03-11T13:28:00.000-04:002009-03-11T13:29:09.214-04:00April '09 Bridge European visitsAfter junior year in high school I went to a conference in a camp called Sky Lake. We had discussions, cookouts, lots of fun, but I had a worry that I didn't think concerned others: the upcoming vote on the European Common Market with uncertain passage. It felt very important to me. One evening I went in the camp store and a radio newscast: the European Common Market had passed. It was years later that I first visited Europe, but since then my family and I have been to many countries of what became the EU.<br /><br />In early years at the Zamek a TV crew came to film us. It was summer, so my mother-in-law, Rina, was here. As we sat on the Platz, she told how she had packed small suitcases with pajamas and a sausage for their 1948 escape. I was interviewed in the kitchen; I said how I feel at home as climate and terrain are similar to my hometown area in central New York State. My husband talked about what we grow while interviewed on a field. Our son was filmed in one of the woodshops. He said that he had been very fortunate to have visited many countries throughout his childhood and now was pleased to be in the free Czech Republic.<br /><br />When you visit another country you find, even within Europe, similarities and differences. My husband had business in the Netherlands . I went on a canal boat ride and a bus trip with two little daughters."We'll go visit a castle on the weekend" my husband said. I said, "Don't be silly. Holland doesn't have castles!" But they do - dozens. We went to Muiderslot, and also visited WWII bunkers, and the Comenius' Museum, which my husband's grandmother's friend had founded. On another early trip to Amsterdam a couple daughters bought tiny delft-ware type pieces in the hotel gift shop. They complained to the sales girl that they were using too much of their vacation money for small gifts. "Yes", she said, "Holland is a small and expensive country".<br /><br />We never spent much time in France, but one two-day visit to Paris seems quintessential to me. We arrived from an overnight flight. The concierge at the King George Hotel looked askance at our bedraggled crew, fumbling around with reservations, until my husband asked him to store our PC very, very carefully. [PC's were a new item in the world back then.] The concierge found the reservations. The computer went to the storeroom; we were taken to a beautiful and extensive suite. There was some chipped paint, pre-renovations, but for us and our four children unending space after a night flying was wonderful. There were three bedrooms, a large sitting room, corridors, and a number of bathrooms. One child did math homework on a Louis the something table.<br /><br />After all rested, we ordered room service for the three girls -exquisite food, with linens, silver, and flowers. My husband, I, and our young teen-age son went out for dinner and then the show at the Folies de Berges. Of course it was interesting. I remarked that I liked the variety of costumes; our son remarked that he thought it very repetitious, my husband agreed. However, we had at least viewed it once.<br /><br />The next day we walked to the Champs Elysees, Napoleon's tomb, the Eiffel tower, and lovely gardens. Our fashion-conscious daughter remarked on the clothes of French children playing in the gardens. "They are all wearing Outfits!", she said. [Toiletries she collected from the hotel bathrooms lasted her several years.] The following morning we flew off, having experienced Paris.<br /><br />Greece was our destination four or five times. On the island of Kos the children played in marketplace ruins. There had been money to excavate mosaic floors, but not to build a structure, so you scraped the four or so inches of sand off and then recovered them.. One child got a painful bee sting. I went to a pharmacy across the road. This was my first experience of European pharmacists as medical advisors. I said she was not allergic, and he gave me something which took the sting out.<br /><br />The last time we saw the Parthenon it had scaffolding. I think the repairs were really needed, so it wouldn't collapse. However our youngest did not like this! "Don't they know that people want to see it like it ended up? I'm not coming back until they take the scaffolding away!" She left. My husband said, "I didn't know Ann is a classical purist".<br /><br />One of our daughters has returned to Greece twice, from Prague, including on her honeymoon. It's not sneaky infecting the children with interest in other places, it's vital to our world and theirs.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38660614.post-60856547572809015682009-02-11T10:07:00.003-05:002009-02-11T10:10:02.515-05:00March 2009 "Thinking of Children's Insights"Perhaps you will soon be taking your children on vacation for a late-winter or early-spring holiday. I always tended to stuff my children as full of the history, geography, literature, culture of the place visited as I possibly, possibly could. It is fair turnabout to note well what children are feeling and saying. Recently I've been thinking of many interesting reactions of my youngest daughter in all our travels over the years, from the time when she was a baby to our arrival in Czechoslovakia, and later moving into the zamek.<br /><br />Eight months old, she was sitting on my lap while we viewed a herd of zebras in a game park. At this moment she registered what she was seeing, her eyes growing large - these were the first animals she'd really noticed. She was baptized on the trip; Years later we needed the date so looked in her brother's notebook; interspersed with a sentence about seeing a lion, and lots of drawings of tanks and guns, was the sentence, “Today my sister was baptized”. Also in Africa, when she was 3 or 4, she brought her notebook, with pasted-in maps to her father. What she requested of him was to mark HOME - the town in the Middle East where we lived! It was all very well to visit Pakistan, Sri Lanka, Nairobi, but she wanted HOME to be firmly marked.<br /><br />When she was 5 she had one goal for our USA trip: getting a pair of “Party Shoes” - black patent Mary Janes. When she had those she said, “Okay. We can go home now.” Never mind that her father had a computer course, one child needed a small operation, I had to get some household supplies and clothes for everyone for the year, and we needed to visit relatives.<br /><br />Some incidents in England, involving her at age 9, come to my mind. She really hated walking on tombstones. “Thank you, Becky!!”, she said with all her heart to the cousin who warned her about a tombstone on the floor in a small country church. I remember her amazement at the age of the Oxford “New College”, where we watched “The Tempest”. We also visited the pubs which C. S. Lewis and the other Inklings frequented. I bought her a copy of “The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe”, telling her that she was absolutely going to read it. Of course, she could read, but until that point had avoided full-length books; after that, you couldn't stop her. Her very best day was the day a neighbor in the village where we rented a house took her to school -PE, art, and music all in one day, and all the other little girls on the school bus.<br /><br />A few years later she was with her sister, so my husband and I enjoyed the art of Florence, Italy, without complaints! But another time, in the Prado in Madrid she recognized a painting because of a set of coasters including that painting. The hour we spent there suited a child more than the 3 hours at the Uffizi would have.<br /><br />When we drove to Czechoslovakia from Vienna in April 1990 most of the old border defenses were still very apparent. When she returned home to 9th grade one of the other students remarked, “Of course there is really no such thing as 'No-man's land'”. Our daughter immediately informed him that there certainly is, and that she had seen it!<br /><br />She wrote poems about the zamek later, putting into them ages and sounds. If you didn't know better, you might think that she had actually lived here centuries ago.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38660614.post-7740844903926809072009-01-05T20:08:00.002-05:002009-01-05T20:11:59.021-05:00Music (originally published in "The Bridge" in 2005<span style="font-family:verdana, courier new,courier,tahoma,sans-serif;font-size:85%;">It's possible to find musicians in our history, including into recent years. At the end of the 1800's, Bedrich Smetana, then a young man, lived in an area zamek and, according to the local historical society, came here for hunting parties. They said he once gave a concert at our zamek and that he set "The Bartered Bride" around the fish pond in Posna, a nearby village. Wouldn't it be fun to interview people there, asking if this one's or that one's grandmother or grandfather were the prototype for a character in his opera?<br /><br />We've liked inviting musicians to help us in our celebrations, but the first group, about six people, invited themselves on December 24, 1991. They were dressed in folk costumes and gave a little talk saying they were reviving the ancient Czech custom of caroling from place to place. We shared "Good King Wenceslaus", greatly pleasing them that English-speaking people remember him. When they'd left for a retirement home snow fell furiously for about fifteen minutes covering the bare ground and sealing the thrill for us of that magical, musical afternoon.<br /><br />Weddings are perfect times to invite musicians. There's music for the wedding ceremony, a folklore group to perform local wedding dances and songs, and a band for dancing. I'd wanted a bilingual ceremony. Fr. Max accomplished this at the rehearsal in one sentence: "Now, Petr", he directed our organist cousin, "your family please sing all the responses in Czech." And they did. Hymns were in English, some scripture was in Czech, some in English. Fr. Max did the ceremony in English with the bridal couple reciting their memorized vows in English. The congregation chose their own participation language! Our violinist<br />friend played Bach's "Sheep may Safely Graze". Afterwards the folklore group was enjoyed and then dancing began with the classical Czech circle around the newly-married couple.<br /><br />At another wedding a couple funny or off-beat incidents took place. We pushed two guitarists, who'd gotten off an airplane three hours before, to take part in the rehearsal. They survived, barely. The flautist did not come to the rehearsal, quite to our surprise. He did come to the wedding, not particularly early, but instead of the flute, he played the<br />saxophone for the offertory to everyone's astonishment! Between when I'd talked with him and the wedding, he'd decided that he knew the French chanson better than he knew the flute music.<br /><br />During the reception I found a few of the folklore group just hanging out. "What are you doing?" "Waiting for the others." Long afterwards I realized that I had forgotten to send the bus for them! Others picked them up in several loads, so we did have the show after all.<br /><br />The older cousin of the young man who played the saxophone is an accomplished pianist. She is now a PhD in languages, but she did give a concert here years ago. The old general who lived here then had some requests which she played competently.</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38660614.post-25486881713534662112008-11-08T14:34:00.001-05:002008-11-08T14:35:25.743-05:00Jack Frost at Work - Dec/Jan '08- 09<span style="font-family:verdana, courier new,courier,tahoma,sans-serif;font-size:85%;">Have you ever seen Jack Frost.....or, just his work?<br /><br />When I was only six I stopped believing in Santa Claus. I was already suspicious that year, so I tested my theory. I got my parents to promise they wouldn't eat the snack we left near the fireplace. It was still there in the morning, so I definitely knew.<br /><br />I myself have never seen fairies in the garden. One daughter wrote down, with a little picture, that she saw a fairy under a mushroom. Her younger sister said that knowing her, she probably did see one.<br /><br />However, I believed in Jack Frost for a very long time, probably until I was eleven, or so. This is how he looks, and what he does. He works in the winter in cold climates. He always has some brushes to decorate your windows. He's slender, but tall, and moves quickly because I've never actually caught sight of him. Most of his work he does at night, or very, very early in the morning. He wears a pointy hat, and some of his clothes are red and green.<br /><br />My mother told me about Jack Frost, but neither she nor my father were charmed as I was, because Jack Frost's work takes place when there are air leaks around the windows. My husband had silicon put around all the window frames, so frosty paintings are rarely seen here. An exception is the glassed-in balcony at the top of the stairs. Warm air rises from the furnace room, and warm, moist air rises from the clothes dryer. On frosty mornings I see the elfin painter's artistic creations.. There'll be tall ferns, flowers, perhaps a storybook castle, a frozen white meadow, or maybe a cat. I have not yet seen sheep here! Maybe they are hiding in the meadow.<br /><br />If you catch Jack Frost at work, please write and tell me.</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38660614.post-37630597414041399002008-09-03T08:12:00.001-04:002008-09-03T08:16:24.048-04:00October 2008<span style=";font-family:verdana,courier new,courier,tahoma,sans-serif;font-size:85%;" > October 2008<br /><br />First, if you think you are having a hard time shopping in Prague, think of me here in the countryside, so much sparser in stores, but I do manage it.When you are still very unfamiliar with the Czech language, take your dictionary along shopping with you! Forgot your dictionary? Buy only foods you recognize until next trip! I once bought “hard flour” thinking it was the gluten-free I needed. A daughter bought a bag of kitty litter – here for the Zámek, where we are replete with sawdust! She thought it was dry cat food. Early on, I bought a slepice, when what I needed was a kuøe. I cooked that old hen for two days.<br /><br />I do bring a few things from the States or England, but most things can be managed by substituting or making your own – cream sauce cooked in a pot, rather than the can of soup the recipe calls for; baking cocoa + butter, rather than baking chocolate; chocolate bars chopped in the food processor, rather than chocolate chips. It's good to have a list of pound/kilogram equivalents, although more stateside recipes now give both. I taped a card with centigrade-fahrenheit equivalents above the oven.<br /><br />DISH FOR A DESPERATE DAY<br /><br />Make the number of hamburger patties you want, or wash the number of chicken legs.<br />Lay in a shallow baking dish which has a cover.<br /><br />Add whatever veggies you want -<br />Chopped onion, carrots sticks, zucchini sticks, celery OR grated celer [celeric root]<br /> parsnip sticks<br />Cut up potatoes<br /><br />Add whatever herbs you want -<br />Garlic, summer savory, thyme, marjoram, salt, pepper<br /><br />Put the lid on and bake at 350 for about an hour. If the lid is loose, you might put foil around the edge.<br /><br />Play a game with the children, make a phone call, take a nap.<br />****************<br /><br />EGGLESS, MILKLESS, BUTTERLESS CAKE<br /><br />Made by my grandmother, Dora Markham Clark, during WWI. I have the recipe in her handwriting.<br /><br />Mix in a saucepan:<br /><br />1 cup brown sugar. [This can now be purchased in more shops, and health food stores have it.]<br />1 ¼ cup water<br />1/3 cup lard or margarine<br />2 cup raisins<br />½ teaspoon nutmeg<br />2 teaspoon cinnamon<br />½ teaspoon cloves or less<br />[You may need to look these words up in your trusty dictionary!]<br /><br />Bring to a boil, and boil for 3 minutes. Let cool.<br /><br />Add 1 teaspoon salt and 1 teaspoon baking soda, dissolved in 2 teaspoon water.<br /><br />Blend in 2 cup flour mixed with 1 teaspoon baking powder.<br /><br />Pour into greased and floured or crumbed baking pan.<br />Bake about 50 minutes in a 325 oven.<br />******************<br /><br />BLUEBERRY BATTERCAKE<br />from "Women's Day", Sept '39<br /><br />The Czech word boruvky can be translated into English as either bilberry or blueberry. What grows wild here, on the forest floor, is the soft-stemmed bilberry. A few people have blueberry bushes in their gardens; blueberries may sometimes be purchased fresh in the markets, or from the frozen food counter. Use either in this dish.<br /><br />Line a greased pan with 2 cups blueberries or bilberries, sprinkling with juice of ½ a lemon.<br /> Canned fruits may be used – peaches are quite good.<br /><br />Mix the batter:<br /> Cream ¾ cup sugar with 3 tablespoons butter.<br /> Mix 1 cup sifted flour with 1 teaspoon baking powder and ¼ teaspoon salt.<br /> Add to creamed mixture alternately with ½ cup milk.<br />Pour the batter over the berries.<br /><br />Mix:<br /> 1 cup sugar, 1 tablespoon cornstarch, ¼ teaspoon salt.<br />Sprinkle over the top of the cake batter.<br /><br />Pour:<br /> ¾ cup to 1 cup boiling water over the cake!! Do not stir!<br /> For canned fruits, use their own juice brought to a boil.<br /><br />Bake in moderate oven (375) one hour.<br /><br />You may put this in the oven during dinner preparations and thus have a hot cake.<br />Leftover is OK, but fresh is fantastic. Great with ice cream, of course. </span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38660614.post-52103920403031917452008-08-07T17:14:00.002-04:002008-08-07T17:19:50.327-04:00What's New Around Here- September 20082008 is the 100th year since my husband's grandfather and grandmother purchased the estate upon the 1908 birth of my husband's father. We've thought of ways to celebrate, both sensible and ridiculous ones. A ridiculous idea might be a dumpling-eating contest. Celebrations, in a low<br />key way, will continue for a couple years – first because our daughters and families cannot come this year, but also because the grandparent's family, consisting of the mother, father, infant son, and 7 year old daughter, did not move into the Zamek immediately. They added toilets!!, renovated the kitchen, added water-powered electricity, and the grandfather probably began thinking about the horses he would become well-known for raising.<br /><br />Our son is ordering logo t-shirts, with lettering done by an artist, his brother-in-law. For the chapel, my husband has ordered granite plaques with his parents' dates and will order his grandparents'. I went with our son and his children to the village of the grandmother's family to visit the graveyard where the grandmother was buried in 1960, as we did not find any papers with her exact birth and death dates. [The communists would not allow her to be buried here in the tomb alongside her husband. Villagers there helped us find the family estate where she and her children had been born.]<br /><br />Recently the abbot from the nearby monastery visited our woodshop. He ordered 100 smallish wooden crosses for the monastery. When he heard it was our 100th year he said he'd like to have a celebration mass in our chapel. There have been masses here, but never before by the abbot! I'll need to do some cleaning! A date has been set. Afterwards we'll grill lamb shish-kebobs for supper.<br /><br />[Many sheep are still alive and walking around, but they've finally worked out the routine of WHERE THEY ARE SUPPOSED TO GO! New this year, that's greatly appreciated by me!]<br /><br />Long-delayed repairs are proceeding. We're working on the suite that was my husband's parents – large bedroom, veranda with tower, bathroom made from my mother-in-law's large dressing room. A tiny toilet room will be a linen closet. The adjacent sitting room is slated to be an Arab majlis with our collections from the Middle East. My husband had a enchanting curved staircase added to the tower. I've purchased light fixtures I imagine could be from the 1930's. The bricklayer is upstairs right now, plastering holes the electricians made.<br /><br />The next BIG item needed is a furnace for this wing. But who knows: the carpenters or the agriculture department might decide one or the other really needs something else. Well, the Zamek was built over a number of centuries.....Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38660614.post-39381860994721912232008-04-04T14:11:00.002-04:002008-04-04T14:14:15.866-04:00Lovers Lane - May 2008Lovers' Lanes<br /><br />We have two lovers' lanes that I know about on the estate. Most likely there are more. Probably lovers walk through a forest. Perhaps some ramble along the stream. But these two paths I know about directly from lovers who used them.<br /><br />Any physical indication of the first lane is long gone, but my friend who walked this with her husband-to-be has explained exactly where it was. A double alley of oak trees went from just behind our garden, across a field to a meadow between two ponds to a road to another village. That alley is where they walked, exchanging secrets and caresses. Wildlife was plentiful here. Grouse ran, hares frisked, pheasants stalked. The walk was especially lovely through the meadow between the two ponds. Sometimes they saw a deer with her fawn.<br /><br />Later in the 1970's and 1980's the regime proceeded to turn the typical small Czech fields into giant rolling fields like countries further east have. What to do with that oak alley? The head of the farm collective knew what he wanted. After he had the oaks chopped down, he had furniture for his house made with the wood.<br /><br />Just the other day my friend told me again how lovely that oak alley was where they ambled and courted. She's sad that it was all cut down, but its beauty lives on in her heart and her husband's.<br /><br />You may still go on the other lovers' lane, as it's a small rocky dirt road which is occasionally driven on and often walked upon. Down below it splits, one branch leading to the old brick yard and the other to a meadow and stream. Over the stream is a small wooden bridge.<br /><br />In 1996 we were preparing for our Fourth of July party. My neighbor at the time, Joan, was making three-bean salad; our son David was getting fires started; my husband was entertaining early arrivals; one daughter was putting up red, white, and blue decorations; another daughter, Alice, was mowing the lawn. She had to stop for awhile to converse with her grandmother. Finally finishing the lawn, her friend Christian took her away for a walk.<br /><br />They walked through the village, down to the meadow, and onto the bridge. They became engaged. Christian gave Alice a ring set with family diamonds and in the center a garnet he'd purchased. The garnet is because garnets are Czech stones, and Alice is half-Czech. The following summer they were married here in the Zamek chapel.<br /><br />My artist friend, Edna, once visited us for a month. Afterwards she did a painting of a small bridge which we bought Alice and Christian for Christmas several years later. It hangs in their room, and is a keepsake of their engagement on the Fourth of July.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38660614.post-62376989355231289362008-03-07T09:09:00.002-05:002008-03-07T20:59:10.565-05:00Sewing Projects<span style="font-family: georgia;font-family:verdana,courier new,courier,tahoma,sans-serif;font-size:85%;" >A manufacturer of upholstery and drapery material is not far from the Zamek. I shop there at the factory sometimes. Then I phone our upholsterer who incidentally did the furniture at Obecní Dùm when it was renovated a few years ago.<br /><br />Once we needed felt for Christmas ornaments for gifts and to sell. First, questioning IWAP members and then searching in Prague, I found a store. I even learned the Czech word, "filc".<br /><br />A dressmaker near the Zamek sewed outfits for me, my mother-in-law, and for two daughters, including the wedding dress for one of them. We shopped for fabric, drew pictures or took patterns to the dressmaker, and went back for fittings.<br /><br />But the project which still amazes me took place many years ago. I made a silk dress for a thirteen year old girl. Are you familiar with the concerns thirteen year old girls have about clothes?<br /><br />"Mom, I really need a new dress for the dance next week."<br /><br />"Alice, why don't you wear the floaty two-piece white on white, satiny stripe, I made last year."<br /><br />"Mother, I can't wear that! There' s no contrast: you know we're all wearing white stoles. I need the dark blue silk you brought me from India last year. I really want a sheath; that would look nice."<br /><br />"I don't have a pattern. Alice, you are not a paper doll, you are not flat, you are three-dimensional. I've made doll clothes that wouldn't fit the dolls." [Where we lived at the time it was nearly impossible to get patterns.]<br /><br />"Oh, Mother. You can do it. Just use a pattern you have to shape the armholes. It will be so easy for you."<br /><br />It wasn't exactly easy. The armholes needed facing, also, which was another cutting problem. I had to think carefully and measure for darts. Of course, I had to make certain there was enough room on the sides to fit in a person, even someone slender like Alice! Finally, after she'd tried it on many times, I put in a zipper and did the hem.<br /><br />She was very pleased with the dress. She looked lovely in it with the white stole. I was proud of how I'd managed to construct it!<br /><br />Now, Alice is a mother of girls herself, contending with their reasonable and unreasonable requests. </span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0