Tag Archives: Barnabás

Winter

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Let me begin with a Mea Culpa. I’ve been so busy that I couldn’t get my head around posting any updates last week. That and the weather is thoroughly winter. Okay that’s not quite true. No one knows winter-bleak like an Ohioan. So the 2 C and partial shade really doesn’t cut it for excuses. But for Szeged, Hungary’s city of sunshine, a few days without the amber bounty seems, well, apocalyptic. Amen.

We’ve been spending early Sunday mornings driving to flea markets in the county. Each Sunday a different village hosts the flea market. There isn’t one today because it’s the rare 5th Sunday of a month.

I would say that 75% of the fun in going to these markets is the drive to get there. These are real, Hungarian villages. Tour busses cannot fit along these roads, and when the major highways were designed (for maximum efficiency in getting through Hungary quickly), no one thought to link these villages into the main pathways. But that seems to be alright by the people, and certainly alright by travelers looking for a little slice of authenticity. Especially here in Hungary’s Great Plain, the wide spaces and chilled wheat inspire adventure. I think I’ve probably always been a country girl at heart. Nothing pleases me more than seeing a chipped wooden sign advertising horse studding, or a little donkey in the distance rummaging for feed.

Most of the markets are set up the same. At the entrance you’ll find the animals: chickens, ducks, geese. Sometimes pigs and goats, but not always, and not this time of year. And all kinds of food for the animals. And puppies! Most of the puppies! are pure breads, though not always. Last week a man was giving away shepherd mixes because, as the man told us, the “mom” was a little bit of a farm tart. But he wanted them to go to a good home.

Most of the people that frequent these places are those living in the county. Farms, mostly, and some pickers. Good people with somewhat difficult lives. The market is the place to buy everything. From gulyas cauldrons, horse reins, spark plugs for an old Fiat to liquorish and bras (not usually at the same stand).

I love to go.  I love to watch the hundreds of people looking for treasures. I love to watch Gyorgyi haggle a few cents off of a little piece of pottery. The air is filled with the smell of mulled wine, fried kolbasz and langos. It really is the cure for any partially sunless winter blues.

Szeged, Bricket & Barnabás’ Booze

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I’ve had a pretty busy week. Organized some submissions, wrote a few letters, revised a paragraph and line here and there, and so on.  On Wednesday, Györgyi had to do some work in Szeged so Barnabás and I tagged along.  I’m not sure if I ever said this on the site, but we have a second apartment in Szeged, which we lovingly refer to as the pit because when we bought it, the city started doing construction on a new tram line just down the road and there was dirt and huge holes everywhere ( & I also greedily and frequently steal lines/concepts/jokes from the best show on television, Parks and Recreation.)

So back to Szeged.

The weather has been so nice here, and even though it rained a little bit on Wednesday in Budapest, it was sunny in Szeged (the City of Sunshine)! So we went to the park in the late afternoon and let our beast run around. We tried to deter Barnabás from going up to old ladies in the search of food by throwing a Frisbee around, but we ended up playing ourselves. Unfortunately now, at nearly six years old, he is a dog who never really learned how to play at anything, so he just looks at us like we’re total dummies when we try to get him to run and chase something. Györgyi has slowly been able to make him bring a tennis ball back to her when we’re in the apartment, but it only lasts for about 10 throws before he runs and hides with the ball on the deck or under the pillows, growling and barking at it.  And that play has taken about a year of repetition.  (Which is just a little odd since he learned how to shake in about 15 seconds when he was getting rewarded with food).

All of the trees are in bloom or are blooming this week. And it feels like a whole new world again.

We wanted to have an early dinner outside, to enjoy the nice weather, so we headed to the restaurant we always go to in Szeged, Kiskörössy Halászcsárda. We call it the fish soup restaurant because that’s what they serve.

Since we didn’t have much to eat all day, we ordered a little appetizer of fish “cracklins”, which is not the same thing as southern cracklins. But, almost as good for you! These are little fish pieces, the best bits that no one eats except in the soup, fried. The best parts, in my opinion, are the cheeks and the roe (eggs). And you can see from my picture the big cauldron of soup. Hungarians LOVE cauldrons and cooking savory things inside of them. I wish someone made chocolate mousse in a cauldron that big.

As we finished eating, we watched the Hungarian summer Olympians (kayak and canoe) who were training on the Tisza River. They won many gold medals in Beijing, so I suppose they aren’t wasting any time in training for the London summer games (and also why they weren’t eating fish cracklins). They looked amazing on the water. The fluid drag of the oars was so calming to watch, and how shoulder to arm to water look like one long limb.

They turned around soon after though because a giant storm cloud was approaching. We ended our meal and made it back to the car before any rain fell. These days are one of the reasons why I really adore Szeged. Budapest is an amazing city to live in. You can find almost anything and do almost anything (except get a coffee before 08:00). But once in a while it’s nice to have a quiet day and a dinner outside on the bank of an old river.

And since it’s Friday, I hope that everyone will have a fun and safe holiday weekend. I’m not making ham because I hate it. I find it torturous to eat, to tell you the truth. So I’m pulling out some Passover recipes instead. Györgyi has secured a 3kg brisket (or as she calls it, bricket) from a Buda butcher, and we’re planning on spending some quality family/friend time in Budapest.  (And with a little attention, hopefully keep Barnabás bácsi away from the booze.)

Friday Extraction and Slow Saturday

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Györgyi had her wisdom tooth pulled on Friday afternoon. I say “extracted” but she doesn’t like it. I never had to have my wisdom teeth pulled. But from what I can tell, she handles it really well. So we pretty much had a lazy weekend. I made chicken meatball soup, which turned out to be really yummy. And on Saturday I woke up bright-eyed at 5:30 a.m ready to start the day. Because of the tooth pull, Györgyi couldn’t run, so Barnabás and I went out early. He has become such a spoiled brat recently. The entire last 2 kilometers, I was literally dragging him back by his neck.  Honestly I think he didn’t want to be running that early. When we got back to the apartment, he ate his 1/2 milk bone and then went right back to his bed. He was snoring before he even hit the pillow. Tough life.

Györgyi was awake too and we felt like getting out and doing something since the weather was so pretty. Cool air but bright, warm sunshine. We decided to get the car washed, since it looked like it had survived a Bolivian mudslide, and then try to find a coffee. It being Saturday and all, we weren’t going to MAKE our OWN coffee. But, unfortunately, many places in Budapest, just like everywhere in Europe where people don’t wake up until 8 a.m (i.e–midday) on Saturdays, there aren’t a lot of places open that early. In America, coffee houses are like crack dens. Dozens of people piling in and out at a 4, 5 a.m, red eyes pooled with shame, arms twitching. But here, a decent cappuccino is really only accessible at about 8.

So we drove up to Szentendre, a little artsy neighborhood just 20 minutes outside of Budapest. I needed some more pictures of B and the light and people-free streets were perfect that morning.

It’s just about the season for regional tourists to make their way here, as we would go to Prague (like we did this time last year) or other nearby countries/cities to visit. But the early morning, even in the city, is always the best time to take pictures of buildings and cobblestones and rooftops. Not only is it quiet and quaint, it’s closer to that old charm than when it’s clogged with tours.

The only other person on the street was a man walking his Puli. Pulis are loyal, adoring Hungarian herding dogs. But they honestly look like mops walking down the street. This little lady’s name was Coco.

She ate a little trash, smiled at Barnabás, then moved along.

We finally got a coffee and muffin back in the city. By that time is was almost 9 and Barnabás was ready for his 3rd nap of the day. The rest of the weekend was filled with walks, catching up on Seasons 5/6 of Lost, and slowing down a bit. I think in my old age, I’m really starting to appreciate this time of the year, and how nice it is to take the time. (to do anything at all).

St. Barnabás the Patient

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You have to believe me when I say it started with this duck costume, which was intended to be for Carnival. Yes a little jokey, perhaps, but no harm in it.

But then our carnival costume shopping ended.  And then next aisle over there were sales upon sales upon sales of little clothes. So I rummaged around in my head for an excuse and came up with a good one– I needed Barnabás to model for me as I tested out the aperture and shutter speed settings on my new camera. Barnabás with a little outfit on would be perfect for depth of field experiments, I convinced myself.

But when I saw the pictures uploading of Barnabás in his office-wear, I knew we had taken it too far.

Then I received an email from my mother, and I was sure that when I opened it, she would set me straight about Barnabás’ costumes getting a little out of hand. (After all, I had written to her explaining the challenges of his size– boys’ 24 months, though his hips are skinny and his belly occasionally sags after long weekends.)  But instead of a well-deserved critique, she told me that her dog, Coco Elaine Jewell, was probably (she wasn’t sure) a 3T.  Toddler that is.  3 years old.  She does have a thick neck.

You have to understand that Barnabás really is a care-free soul, as long as he can always hang out with us.  Sometimes when he gets up from the couch, he drags the blanket that was covering him around for hours. He’ll lay down with it somewhere else, then move again, taking it with him. And honestly he would carry around a baked potato on his head if I asked him too, and I gave him a little treat.  I think he genuinely likes taking pictures now (probably because he knows that all photography sessions end in a salami or bone). And I know I’m not the only one who does these things.  Coco Elaine Jewell got a Martha Stewart bed for Christmas.  And a pearl necklace.

According to the amazing Horizon documentary I watched a few nights ago– Secret Life of the Dog– since they mapped the dog genome and went through half a century of research into dog’s domestication–we now know that dogs are closer to humans in terms of behavior than even chips. Smart dogs can even perform analytical thinking skills, can retrieve objects after being shown pictures of the objects– understand that one things REPRESENTS another thing.  This is something that not even human toddlers can do until 2 or 3 years old. Dogs respond to pointing even though they don’t exhibit this behavior in the wild. And scientists in Hungary found that, like humans, dogs look directly into the left eye of humans to gauge emotion (just like humans do). If you are a dog-lover, you honestly need to find that documentary on Youtube and watch it.

And I’m not saying that Barnabás is some kind of genius for sitting still when he wears a duck costume. Or for falling asleep halfway through our photo shoots.

But he is patient. And damn cute.

Joy in Winter

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Not that we wouldn’t go to Margit Island alone in the winter. Cold air is good for the lungs. But there is something about walking around the cool, empty and snowcovered island property with a little cocker spaniel who is so enthralled in his joy of exploration, that just makes every winter morning one I want to spend in that moment there.

A few weeks ago we decided to go to the island. It was early morning–maybe 6 or 6:30 when we finally arrived. The sun hadn’t really tried coming up yet, but even when it did, it didn’t get very far.  Just a little fire lit in the distance:

It didn’t even seem like anyone was awake at the usually bustling Saturday morning spa. Covered by the leafless trees, the building looked like a haunted house.

Since there weren’t any people, I turned my camera to the peaking grasses,

frozen limbs,

and unplucked winter berries frozen in time.

As morning approached, the birds left their warm nests for food, passed the water tower still caught in the fog of previous centuries.

It would be nice to write that our little Barnabás goes tumbling after the birds. But he’s nearly blind and can’t see almost anything there, especially in that hazy, low morning winter light.

He runs for the pure joy of running.  The smells and texture of the snow.  Follows our voices calling to him from the distances when he’s gotten distracted by a trail.  O, Mornings of Pure & Innocent Happiness–you’re worth waking up for.

Curls

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The weather has been so cold, though hopefully will warm up this week.  Hopefully just in time for Salzburg so that I can actually run through the Austrian hills like Fraulein Maria.

I have so many posts in my backlog, pic & stories, but I am at least a day behind.

Until then, I’ll post the same pic that I posted on barnabasinbudapest, because his hair is growing back in again, to it’s little soft curls.  Damn cute.

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Our Monthly Trip to the Vet

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Hordeum_murinum_disarticulating_spikelet_cluster

Who knows what a foxtail is?  If you guessed a hordeum murinum disarticulating spikelet cluster, you’ve almost got it.  But if you guessed the two-inch bunch of hard-speared and piercingly sharp dead grass diaspore that lodged itself into our cocker spaniel’s right ear canal this morning, you’d be right on.

So we had a good run along the river this morning, and then an even more pleasant walk through the district for bread and veggies afterward.  Everything seemed so peaceful when we returned to the flat, had some coffee and cheerios and settled in to start the day around 7am.  Györgyi was just out the door, and miraculously on time for her first intensive Spanish language class at the office.

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Suddenly  Barnabás leapt onto the couch and started to scream.  Now from a dog who barely barks and only sometimes howls at the tone of a rotary phone, hearing him make this noise was completely shocking.  He was furiously scratching at his ear, running room to room, crying and screaming, crying and whimpering.  We held him down on his side and shined a light inside of his ear, but couldn’t see anything.  Then, I noticed on the floor by the couch the enemy of long haired and long eared dogs everywhere–a small little foxtail.  Oh no.

And so we had to wait a painful 90 minutes and he paced and scratched and cried before being able to take him to the vet, Dr. Gerszi Kornél, who is fortunately just three blocks from here.

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Barnabás was irritated to say the least.  It took both Györgyi and I the full force of our strength to hold him down, and eventually the doc had to give him TWO shots of sedative so that he was finally calm enough/sleeping to examine the deep inner ear.  He pulled cotton swab after cotton swab out of his ear but still could only see a little poking white spear.  Then, with one final pull he brought it up.  The foxtail.  He exclaimed hoppá which is like oh my or maybe something a little stronger.  We were all a little shocked by how big it was.

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It’s a good lesson. Barnabás is quite injury prone and always walks and plays hard, just like a little boy.  But after glass in the paw, the many ticks, the broken foot, the strained tendon, and now this latest injury, we’re going to have to be more vigilant with him.

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I carried him home from the vet and he was just dead weight in my arms.  His lips and tongue and ears flopped over the side of my right forearm.  I mean he really looked dead.  A few of the old ladies in the building we very concerned, but Györgyi reassured them that he’s going to be fine.  I hate to suspect it, but probably he is always going to be a little bit wild, a little bit accident prone.  Of course this is one of the reasons why we hopelessly adore him.  And also why our next dog is going to be a goldfish.

Ladies and Gentlemen and Internet,

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It is my great pleasure to introduce:

Barnabás Miklós István Mihályi Jewell

after first bath

after first bath

Barnabas (pronounced–Barn -a- bash– and don’t forget to roll that r) is the newest member of the Budajest family.  He’s around 4 years old and was wandering the streets of a small Hungarian village before he was rescued by the Spaniel SOS.

the windblown look

the windblown look

Barnus (Bar-noosh)  is an English Cocker Spaniel and is the sweetest nugget ever.  On every street corner and in every little bakery and seamstress and little fruit stand I hear Istenemmmm (my god) rolling out of the mouths every old lady he passes.  He understands Hungarian, so I’ve been working on him with English commands, though he’ll pretty much understand anything if there is a little slice of kolbasz at the end of it.  He loves to walk and play outside, obviously, and has so far been completely accepting of the million photographs Gy and I have already taken of him.  We’re planning on posing him with as many old Hungarian sculptures and landmarks that we come across.  So in case you don’t like the historical bits of this website, the concession is a picture of an adorable dog.

So, until you meet again, have a wonderful Easter weekend (and long weekend if you live in Hungary).

And Barnabás, take your bow.

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