My life is changing quite fast: at an age
when most are retiring gracefully into the sunset, with their golf, over the
next period, whilst still, somehow, caring for my elderly parents, I will be
not only leaving our shared house in London, but moving to our new, half built
house in Poland. This is one huge
adventure and I am very excited.
Why write the blog? I have stories to tell.
There is too much happening to keep it to myself. I have never thought of myself as a writer,
but maybe this will also be a new beginning.
Earlier blogs are illustrated and describe events from the last couple
of years. They were intended to focus on my jewellery business, but since
that has been ‘retired’, it can be seen that other events in my life have been
allowed to take precedence. Jolly good thing, too.
For the last four and a half years Stefan,
my Polish husband and I have been living with my parents. My mother broke her
hip and it was too much for my father to cope with. The relief of being on site
was palpable as I was no longer waiting for ‘the phone call.’ Having no
siblings it would always be me to deal with events.
We support my dad as he cares for my
mother, who recovered from the hip but whose Alzheimer’s is well entrenched. It
is benign; she is no trouble and certainly not a danger to herself or anyone,
but is totally dependent. Father is more needy now, after all, he is 97, and
mother 95.
We are starting to work on the London house;
Stefan has been in-house handyman all this time. The house will eventually need
to have major work to make it rentable and rather than waiting until it can be
vacated, we are doing what we can now.
Meanwhile, some three years ago we started
work on the house Stefan grew up in.
This meant demolition and complete new build. Not a small job. He grew up in a small town, Stopnica, 100
km north east of Krakow. The history of Stopnica is a microcosm of Poland’s
bloody past. On several occasions the town was right in the firing line of both
Germans and Russians.
The tiny house is in a terrace of three,
all family owned, set in half an acre. A huge family, the children grew up
amongst cousins, aunts and uncles and animals in the yard. But they lived through wars and Communism,
very hard times. The house was derelict, we had to start over.
 |
| Before |
 |
| After, not complete |
We eventually secured the house on paper; Polish
bureaucracy is something else, even with Stefan’s connection to high places (his sister is secretary to the Mayor). Work began. It was a complicated situation with several parties inheriting 3 houses and half an acre. How on earth to divide up? Happily we have the use of most of it. We added to our house and it is more than half done, certainly livable. We are
starting on cousin Barbara’s house next door, to use for our guests. The door in the Before pic marks the divide between the houses.
Each time, of course, we come by car, laden
with cups and saucers or whatever, and leave the parents. I have found an
agency to care for them as they need, so I hope this will free us up a bit. My dad doesn't like it, but what to do? A whole conversation on that theme alone, awaits.
Getting to know Poland, its language,
history, people is a big job. No danger of getting bored. And the blog will
accompany the journey.
I am very lucky in that Stefan is not only
building the house, but is a happy driver. He does ALL the driving, and I can
be Lady Muck in the passenger seat.
Driving through the country I see a lot.
The landscape is so unlike Western Europe,
where every inch is claimed.
Here, like a framed picture, the tidy roads
surround an overgrown, exuberant landscape. The fields are small, the landscape
rolling, and vistas of varied colours, textures and shape open up. Some of the land appears to have no owner; large
areas are overgrown. Grass verges are mostly meadow, with tall, wild flowers. The impression is of a ‘hairy’ landscape.
The countryside, mostly farmland, despite
our present drought, is rich, verdant. As well as state owned large tracts of agricultural
land, there are over two million private farms. Poland supplies
the EU , and the rest, with vast amounts of potatoes, rye, barley, oats, sugar beets, flax, and fruits.
Houses of all ages, though sadly few of
great age, stand alone, surrounded by
their fields. There are also newish houses, standing in various sized plots, built
by Poles who are earning abroad. Once completed they can look magnificent, painted
in an assortment of colours with nouveau
riche trimmings. Very fancy. But some owners run out of cash and just stop
building. So the poor houses stand there in various states of undress, with no
sign of life at all.
Next week,
observations on toothpaste ads.
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