ope.Ten minutes of research reveals that there's a lot to see and do in the Ukraine--beautiful cathedrals, natural wonders, old castles, historical cities. Plus, you can have a plate of chicken kiev in Kiev. That could be fun.
I've had french fries, french bread and french onion soup in France, although in France those dishes are just called fries, bread and onion soup. Well, not exactly, since the French tend to indiscriminately speak in their own language, and they use the French words for fries, bread and onion soup over there when they actually mean french fries, french bread and french onion soup. Confusing.
I've had peking duck in Beijing (the Chinese are better hosts and actually called it peking duck in Peking). It might be time to fly to Kiev and add another culinary/geographical mashup to the life list.
Hmmm, so I've got a new country to add to my growing roster of places to see before I die. The Ukraine--who knew?
Teri came home tired and feeling a bit melancholy last night. It had been a tough day of work. Her students aren't where they should be in a couple of classes and she's having to crack the whip to get them motivated as the semester draws to a close.
It was already dark when she got home, and she retreated to the solitude of her comfy chair on the back porch to sit and think for a bit before turning in. A few minutes later I heard her squeal with joy and I ran out to investigate.
Fireflies. Fireflies everywhere.
Fireflies are amazing and delightful creatures. Two nights ago there were none. Last night there were dozens flashing everywhere in our back yard and in the Bayberry woods beyond. There were more fireflies out last night than we have ever seen in our yard, and the sight of them immediately lifted Teri's dark mood for the rest of the evening.
Both of us flashed back to a night years ago when we stood on a hill overlooking a vineyard outside of Siena, Italy. It was a perfect night and we were taking a stroll and basking in the afterglow of a fabulous meal at an intimate restaurant.
We crested the hill, looked down into the rows of grape vines, and there they were.
Fireflies. Fireflies everywhere.
There were thousands of them lighting up the vineyard. There were so many that the grapevines themselves glowed. I've never seen such a thing before or since. What a moment. What a night.
When we returned to our hotel after our amazing walk, I asked the guy at the front desk the word for firefly in Italian. He didn't understand the word firefly, but after a bit of pantomime, he knew what I was asking. The word I think he came up with was luna luce (pronounced loo-chay). I translated or mistranslated this to moonlight. Maybe he said luce luna (we'd had some wine that night, after all, and I might have transposed the words). According to Google Translate, the Italian word for firefly is lucciola, so perhaps I just misheard him or he thought my pantomime was of the moon. But in our house fireflies will always be known as luna luce.
Meanwhile, in the here and now, we are experiencing the most beautiful spring of our lives. It's been a couple of weeks since we've turned on the heat and there has been no need for air conditioning at all. The days have been sunny and warm and the nights have been crisp and cool. Everything is green and the fireflies are dancing.
As I type this, my office window is open and the birds are singing outside on a bright clear day. This morning the first of Teri's irises bloomed. Here's a picture of it next to one of our dogwood trees. This glorious spring has been our reward for getting through an especially brutal winter.
Today the Ukraine can wait. If I won a free trip to Hawaii or Tahiti today, I'd have to decline the offer. Right here, right now I'm in paradise and there's nowhere else I'd rather be.
P.S. I added a link to your blog on my new writers' page... www.barbaramountjoy.blogspot.com Come over and see me sometime!
ReplyDeleteI didn't realize you'd cranked up a second blog. One unpaid writing gig is more than enough to satisfy me. Now I've got links to both of your blogs on mine.
ReplyDeleteCongratulations on the recent successes, BTW!
When we were kids my brother and I used to catch fireflies in mayo jars in my Brooklyn backyard. Haven't seen any in a long while, but next time I stop by to see my parents' Dogwood in bloom I'll keep an eye out.
ReplyDeleteMy brother and I did the same thing when we were kids, Geraldine. The fireflies were always easiest to catch at dusk. As it got darker, they flew higher and out of reach. That has to be a metaphor for something. I only wish I knew what for.
ReplyDeleteHey all-- Man, I have fond memories of catching fireflys in Tennessee when I was a boy. We'd get a pickle or a canning jar and poke holes in the lid so the fireflies could breathe. Then I'd run around the yard catching the fireflies. I remember the shades of deepening gray as dusk would slowly fall, the pulsing lights of the fireflys twinkling like Christmas lights, the smell of warm grass, the distant sound of adult laughter coming through the screen doors of the house, a soft wind against my face. I loved looking at the fireflies in my jar, and although I didn't conceive it in words then, I think I loved being able to capture a little bit of summer in a jar like that. And before I went to bed, I'd always open the jar and let the flies out. It's a real special memory for me now, and thanks for calling up for me!
ReplyDeleteBTW, french fries were actually invented in Belgium so I'm told.
Cheers!
Rob
Just found out that the iris in the picture that I got from a colleague at work, originally came from her mother's yard. So it is a very old iris with a story!
ReplyDeleteYou take me so many places, mate.
ReplyDeleteRob, the Belgians eat theirs with mayo, which is an abomination, so they lose credit for the invention.
ReplyDeleteLet's not the newly discovered Firefly that we've come to enjoy, which is one of the brands of sweet tea vodka that is wonderful when mixed with lemonade. Would love to join you guys on the porch to sip a few of those and watch the light show in the yard.
ReplyDeleteThe party porch is open. Come on down Cathleen.
ReplyDelete