Monday, 17 April 2017

Spring has come but not all life goes on.

It snowed heavily this morning, but by the afternoon it was all gone. Glorious.

Henry lies in bed, over nine weeks now. He was out twice, to come to the table. But no more; he doesn’t want to leave the bed at all. So imagine the state of his muscles…. non existent.  We have to have someone within earshot, always. It takes 3 of us sometimes to see to him. 
And the question rings in my head: how long, how long? 
Calm down girl, we will soon know the answer.  Poor old sod, he hates it.  But don’t think he is a miserable git, he’s not, not at all.  Very sweet on a good day and asks me how I am. Says I look nice; then he wants to sleep.

Halina in the front

The ladies group. It goes on, and I keep making excuses. This was the last session. Henia, Stefan’s cousin, was so proud. She was a (head? Maybe) teacher.  See, they all did the SAME.


So proud. Favourite cousin, Irena, extreme right.

No caption needed
Henia, former head teacher


A beautiful, faded Poznan doorway. 
If only they valued their old buildings.



Our friends, Sasha and Ray visited, so we got away a bit. It was such a pleasure to show them around; they got it about Poland. I realize not everyone does. This bathroom was the best display in a beautiful palace at Lancut, pron. Wuntsut. I have yellow tiles waiting for our bathroom, but how do I find yellow and white garlands for the edges?








These lovely girls are modelling my jewellery in a valiant attempt by Laura to find a market for them. They are a finite collection; I am discontinuing.
Terribly difficult to get everything showing up well.
Photo credit: Henry Korteling 

Again bread, sorry, but made a nice 
pic with late cousins’ inherited orchids!


Stefan with our Ukrainians, Wasil, Big Stefan and Halina

Big Stefan on the phone to Ukraine, minding the Shashlik.

Tuesday, 7 March 2017

Spring has well and truly sprung


During and after the World War ll, while Russia and Poland were apparently allies, a paramilitary resistant group, known as AK, sprung up to try to combat the brutal Russian occupation of Poland.  They were former soldiers who now dispensed with their uniforms.  Fighting heroically they were insulted by the Russians who called them Accursed Soldiers. (Żołnierze wyklęci)  The oppressors were still rounding them up long after the end of the war. The day, 1st March, was subsequently chosen to commemorate the heroes as on this day, in 1951, one of their number, Łukasz Ciepliński (code name Pług), was executed.

As I read more I discover the formidable courage of so many Poles. There are many examples of their participation in battles not only at home but so often around the world, fighting either fascism or communism.  Their courage was evident since earliest times; successfully beating off the Teutonic hordes in the famous Battle of Grunewald; contributing hugely to the success of the Battle of Britain (and getting little thanks); and at home the Warsaw Uprising, with astonishing courage holding off the Nazis for a whole month, causing great damage in the process.

 I am trying to put myself in the position of a Polish citizen in the years after the war. I don’t know if people in the west could ever understand properly the kind of life people led under the Russians.  The Russians' aim was to destroy the country, and they came quite close. How the Polish resisted is a story in itself. 
Life was proscribed in every single detail. The Soviet system of authority was vertical; each boss answered to the boss above, like a ladder right up to the level of Stalin himself. This allowed no flexibility of any kind. Party bosses dictated every branch of existence, from work, social life, food supplies… anything you can think of. Should you show any independence of spirit at all, or the smallest sign of resistance, any inclination to question, you risked your livelihood and therefore your existence and that of your family. 
The domination of Poland was exceptionally cruel. Unlike in other communist run countries such as Hungary or Czechoslovakia, there was no possibility of escape to make a new start in another village or town. In Poland, moving to another village would find exactly the same system and information would be passed from Party member to Party member. News of your blackened name would be spread and your means of support taken away. To survive, to support your family, you had to be compromise your scruples, there was no choice.  
To keep the bosses happy, whether you worked in a factory, or as a teacher or anywhere, you were watched. From a young age you were fed opposing messages: the Russians demanded unquestioning obedience, no dissent of any description. You were a robot, as a citizen you were nothing; you and your family could be disposed of in a heartbeat.  Any idea of acting morally was irrelevant. 
But while your grandmother was teaching you to behave honourably, your parents said nothing, out of fear, and your teachers were telling you lies, as they had little choice.  The great Soviet Union. They dare not tell you any truth. Imagine what that would do to your head as you grew up.  What would that treatment to a country? And what strength they must have to come through that experience.

A day away to a picturesque town, Nowy Sącz, set in the south, amongst the Carpathian mountains. A trip to the local museum was full of carved, painted artefacts from the local churches.
Polish putti
In addition there was surprising show by Zbigniew Borowski, 1905-1966. I think his sculpture, finished in patinated plaster. is beautiful.
1957 Portrait of the painter Ewa Harsdorf
Borowski, nude















Busy municipal office corridor
Running around Poznan taking care of business when Stefan’s cousin, Anna, died, registering this that and the other, one of the offices looked like this. With a rather spiffy paint makeover this Communist era building had loads of atmosphere. Wasn’t that busy. 















One sadness of the country is the seeming inability to rescue what were once glorious buildings.  People die intestate, or go to prison or something, I don’t know what happens. There are countless examples of grand and not so grand but interesting and worthwhile structures just left to rot. It is terribly sad. This one in central Poznan was so beautiful; a true Miss Haversham of a building.


The 'brother' situation has meant we have had no help with the house at all. Apart from dotty Andrzej who would turn up for a pack of ciggies. Once they were smoked he was off, but he helped clearing snow. Looking after Henry, winter, short days, has left us pretty much where we were in the autumn. 
But now things have changed. Our faithful Ukrainian, Big Stef, is coming back very soon. He will bring a mate too, and not only that, we have a lady Ukrainian to make 3.  We told him we needed a lady to help us with Henry, cleaning, garden and all sorts. Behold, Halina arrived at 6.30 this morning! 

There exists a man who acts as a go-between, finding workers and bringing them to their new place or back again by car. Also known as traffickers. He is not reliable and not honest, but what can you do. We know about these people. BUT, he found her and she is here. And just in time. I needed help with Henry, he had not been out of bed for 3 days, he didn’t want to move. I won’t describe what I found but her help was a godsend. 
She has exceeded my expectations; I had NO IDEA who she would be. She is a nurse, as well as a worker who wants to get stuck in. In my dreams.... And she is a very loving person. Its only the first day but bodes well. Watch this space.  She has already helped with Henry, washing him all over most tenderly. 
Language: she understands Polish, and speaks Ukrainian of course, which is harder for me to understand; I could sort of manage if it were Russian. But between us will get there, I have no doubt. Unfortunately, for all Henrys’ linguistic skills he does not know any of the Slavic tongues. But he is happy. She massaged him his feet and all is well.
Our new family member, Halina 
He took to his bed over 3 weeks ago. He knew that if he did that, that would be it, but he wants it to be over. It will take as long as it takes. He is getting thinner and weaker, of course.  I can see the changes every day; as that wretch in the White House would say, sad.

Saturday, 11 February 2017

Events of the winter


Life is quiet, though busy, but winter is pretty uneventful.  My London friends  seem to be gallivanting all over to concerts, theatre etc….. seems a long way off.   But on a recent visit, staying with Sandra in her 50’s? period flat, I was SO cold!  The winter in the UK is damp, as we know, but friends who always complained about the English winter now have my understanding. They just don’t know how to build houses there! 

We are very toasty in the house.  The winter here is profound. There is nothing green, but in the sun the landscape is beautiful. In the UK there is always some green, but here I can only imagine that when spring eventually arrives, the whole place will burst to life.  Looking forward to that very much. I love the snow but the icy is treacherous and scares me when walking.

Quince tree with feeders for birds

Winter mist, from the bedroom

Garden with well


Senior group at it. Lovely ladies.

Senior group
I had given it up. I couldn’t stand the playgroup stuff; though the ladies are clearly intelligent, and very welcoming, for some reason they think playing with plastic and wire for two hours is ok.  I had skipped some meetings but this time I was told they would be, wait for it, painting on glass!  I had to go. Who knows, maybe I could pick up a few tips.  I packed up my computer with the 5 min. video I had made, my book, a few examples and showed up. They immediately set the computer up in the hall where there was a large screen, and obediently watched the video, twice. Much applause and smiles, no questions.
Back upstairs they looked at the book and the examples I had brought. Again no questions.
Then we set to work. Each were given a wrapped sheet of plastic, straight from the shop with hanging clips and card, the whole business. Horrid brushes and tubes of the most disgusting glass paint (no solvent and spit didn’t work). Then we were given what is known as a Riss, that is a pattern or template. They were icons or flowers or some such. The two ladies in the pic had the same as each other; I had an icon. This was placed under the plastic and we were to paint on the plastic following the template. I just took the outlines as a guide then dispensed with the pattern very soon, but the ladies kept going, colouring inI was so uncomfortable, I really did not know where to put myself.
I left as soon as I possibly could.
What is going on here? In the UK or the US the same ladies would be learning French or be members of a book/knitting/cookery club/group/open university or volunteering……..   still a lot to learn.

A death in the family
We have made the 5 hour (each way) trip to Poznan several times recently. One of Stefans many cousins, Anna, did not keep in touch with anyone much, but Stefan is good and we always visited when passing through. She was a heavy smoker and didn’t stop even though she latterly needed an oxygen tank. One day her former neighbor and good friend called us to tell us there had been an emergency and she was in hospital.  She lay in an induced coma for 6 weeks, then was revived and she lasted some 3 weeks more, and then she died.   Her organs had all failed. So we visited at each stage, and then we had to get the immaculately clean but smoky flat redecorated and all her stuff sorted and removed. There were tons of sheets, blankets, knickers, irons…..every cupboard jam packed.  She had her sick mothers stuff, and her dead brothers stuff, receipts from 1996, you name it, all in a one room flat.  Stefan organized the funeral and went with his sister last week. Just one night away. I had a cold, which we all have now, so got out of it.  But a lot to do!

We should go next week to continue, but I am not sure if it will happen.

The cat waits at her door, in the warm, and then pounces. 
Henry has been increasingly short of breath over the last 6/8 weeks; he is going down. His heart is giving out and he has some other stuff not working properly.  Now he is in bed with a cold, quite cheerful, but we all know what will happen.  I am beginning to send out warning noises to family. We had booked (reversible) a holiday in Lanzarote for 1 March. I cancelled it. Oh joy.




Tuesday, 27 December 2016

The First Winter

I have visited in the winter but had not experienced the daily changes through the seasons. It is quite different to feel the gradual loss of the sun's heat and for the cold to creep in, day by day. I love the weather here. There is such a lot of it!

Christmas over, now in that vacuum waiting for the NY celebrations and then we can get on and see what 2017 will bring. I am quite happy it will soon be over.


Stefan just now, as I write this blog, has had a very well meant telling off from my dad that was right on the button. For all my study of Polish with books etc, Stefan still talks to me in English (very bad English at that). And in no time we are not speaking Polish, but English. Henry had finally to speak out. He knows about learning languages and knows this sends me right back to square one, again, so he told us both this was no good.  Stefan has to forget his English except for talking to Henry, and has to help me!  Not very comfortable for me, but I have to learn, it has been long enough. I am so grateful for that lesson. Lets hope there will be great leaps forward.

The holiday was fine, but we lacked the usual, somewhat overwhelming, number of visitors. I personally don’t mind a bit, but it was hurtful for Stefan. There are deep rifts in the family that are painful and I feel sorry for him. He is a strong man and a positive one; he wouldn’t dwell on hurts, but they are there. Next year will be different.  I am reading one of Trollope’s Barchester novels.  Could be us! Human nature in all its glory.

Henry is short of breath and has other probs that need to be investigated. Whether his pacemaker is wearing out or what we don’t know, so to the doc tomorrow. We would like to get away for a few days over New Year but this will prevent us if he needs tests.


Stefan mounted a mirror to see who is coming.

Preparing the carp, which was fabulous. Stefan hadn't made it before, and I had ever eaten it before. What a delight.

This quite dreadful meal was served at an unexpected Christmas celebration for the Senior ladies club.  I haven't been back since; what with the Playschool activities, I can't take it.

At the restaurant for the Christmas dinner. Much singing.

From our bedroom. 
Final pretty picture