Monday, May 25, 2009

Babies & Bubbles

The absolute favourite thing at this time: soap bubbles. Simple and unboreable. It’s used not only for Dominik’s enjoyment but it is also fascinating for adults, for me, too. It’s useful even for the babies by reasons of the facts that the bubbles are always on the move, they’re transparent, they usually last for only a few moments before bursting, either on their own or on contact with another object. They develop the eye-hand coordination.
Good to know: soap bubbles can help solving complex mathematical problems of space, as they will always find the smallest surface area between points or edges; bubbles as playthings are at least 400 years old; according to one industry estimate, retailers sell around 200 million bottles annually, perhaps more than any other toy.

We live the period of two important, persistent questions like What’s this? and What is everybody doing? Thirst for knowledge is unappeasable, but that is very o.k. The answers are memorized, enough once to hear and recall when need. Every new little verse and explanation is listened with both ears. He smartly puts this and that together and is also able to express himself with other words meaning the same. His vocabulary is extremely rich and speaks very clearly, well-understandably. Everything.

I don’t know what to do with this new problem and mainly how to get rid of that is brought by the good weather and concerns the uncovered body parts all: superficial wounds and scores. My heart is always broken as many times as Dominik fall down. I’m afraid that there won’t be any uninjured part on his body by the end of the summer.

The wee
kend was full of family gatherings including a stew-pot party linking with cherry picking at our weekend house. Mutton was cooked on an open fire by my father. I contributed to the success of the delicious lunch with home baked bread and a bean cake. :-)

Finally, let me introduce the youngest members of our acquaintaceship:









Monday, May 11, 2009

Lake Cseke, Tata

After digging a lot and repairing the broken water-pipe in the garden, we ended the weekend with a pleasant walk combined with running about round a fishing lake encircled by a charmed forest with incredibly rich undergrowth; ruins remaining a lost town and little bridges and no end of hiding places. I was raking over the ashes of the past, of college years, as I spent some time there in between lectures and exams. At the end of the day, there was no need to send the little one to sleep.