The first time I saw an effigy burned  I was five, and my family was living for a year living in England. I didn't quite understand the meaning of Guy Fawkes Night. We stood away from the crowd, in the dark at the local oval.  At some point in the proceedings, which seemed to involve a lot of fireworks and "catherine wheels", we watched the crowd throw a life-sized doll onto the bonfire, and everyone cheered. I was confused. It all seemed barbaric and wild to me, especially at that young age.



Next time was at the turn of the millennium. I was almost 30. A New Years Eve party at Straddie. Our loveable (mad) architect friends fashioned a huge chickenwire millenium-man and filled him with combustible things. He stood burning on the beach at Amity point as we danced around the bonfire. Jem was dressed as a zebra and I was a butterfly. I don't remember anything else about the night. What did we eat?  Were we the only ones to get dressed up? What other entertainment was there? Its all a mystery to me. Anyone else remember?  I wonder if my sense of catharsis and elation was connected in some way to that 5 year old watching Guy Fawkes burn?

Something strangely atavistic, symbolic and slightly disturbing about this whole process, I have often reflected.  No wonder the KKK used it as a tool of terror. A simple version of this in Latvian traditional culture is the dragging and burning of the yule log - where at Christmas a log representing everything from the old year is dragged around the farmstead for luck and prosperity in the new year. Afterwards you burn it up, along with all the bad stuff from the past year.


My last public effigy burning happened a week or so ago - totally spontaneously, on December 31st, Jem made a 2013-man to put on top of our awesome iron fire sculpture. We lit him up just after midnight calls of "Happy New Year" and champagne and fireworks. He burned in a spectacular and prolonged fashion, showering sparks and stubbornly refusing to burn completely. The kids - ours and our friends' - stood there dumbstruck, a bit excited, a bit freaked out - and asked sensible questions, as the flames rose up to engulf our 2013 man. A thrilling and mysterious way to mark the change - leaving behind the old, and welcoming the new.

So goodbye, 2013 with all your good and bad. Bring on 2014!

 Today before it got dark, we strode over the sodden field, down the hill towards the mist over the big pond. The field and the forest and the road and the sky were all muted grey and brown. Usually at this time, at the very least there is a bit of snowfall on the ground, and the temperature freezes your fingers and nose. This year it’s all drizzle and grey, melting into darkness in the mid-afternoon. I don’t actually mind it at all – there is a quiet beauty to it, if you are brave and rugged-up enough to venture out into the elements. The landscape is dreamlike in the fog, droplets of rain speckle the otherwise still water on the pond, the far end is shrouded in white. Trees reflect black in the water, and sounds seem muffled and distant – a car engine, the occasional crack of a hunter’s rifle.

 OK I'm going to try and return from my extended summer frolic and ease slowly back into responsible blogging with short posts about summer.

One of the reasons I've been offline is because I have been reading the Harry Potter series to my dudes over the 3-month long holidays.  We started with the third book (not well thought-out, I know, but when I randomly picked a book off the shelf that night before bedtime I didn't think it represented hours of reading the whole series!).  I totally loved reading the HP books years ago when they came out - waiting for the next one to be published.  So having kids who are just as interested in the story as I was/am is fun. I'm not sure who enjoys reading the books more. Although the boys are already familiar with the whole HP series from watching the movies, we have been slowly, painstakingly revealing all of the detail through the books. I think I have finally convinced the dudes that the book is pretty much always BETTER THAN THE MOVIE.

We love to go outside on these warm sunny days and find a great spot where to sit down and read. Jem has managed to visually document a few of these instances. Here they are...
 

The shortest night of the year has passed.  Even the fact that it rained most of the night didn't stop us from enjoying ourselves.  This year I relaxed, and though we were the hosts, we didn't stress about too much.  When, after it had grown dark, we realized the rain was not going to stop, we pushed aside the furniture,  musicians pulled out their violins and accordions and drums and we danced indoors. Jāņi came and went so fast - a huge bustle of song and friends and food and ritual - flowers and oak leaves and wheels of homemade cheese.  Jāņi is the most exciting and even sacred celebration of our year.  Every year it is different, and every year I am sad that it is over.


Looking back at the photos, they are pretty much the same as every other year.  That's tradition for you, I guess! The most beautiful night of the year is over, and I am already counting down the days until we celebrate it again...

So obviously, this is why I haven't been around.  Things have reached their regular summer intensity around here. The snow melted in mid April, and within a couple of weeks we were thrust into full-blown riotous greenery and summer frivolity.  The weather has been  stupidly fabulous since then - everyone, even the winter-hardened local are feeling bowled over by the full-on summer that has just descended on us.  I know they say bamboo is the fastest growing plant in the world, but "they" have obviously never seen Latvian lawns after a long winter.  We arrived in the country a few weeks ago to find the lawn had grown up to our waists.   Totally insane.

How is it that velour tracksuits were all the rage a couple of years ago, and I missed out?  I looked at them fleetingly in the shops but somehow never quite pulled out my wallet.  They seemed kinda (VERY) daggy but also a bit tempting.  But tonight - oh, in the last few months actually - I have decided I totally need one of those soft cuddly tracksuits.

Perhaps not quite as trendy as my brother's ex-girlfriend, who wore a leopard print head-to-toe velour number first time she came to stay at our country place. I think she also had matching slippers.  And to think she was a psychotheraphist!

So I'm in the shower tonight - after working a long, long day at the office on a Friday, suffering from a sore throat and fighting a cold, and wondering who was going to make me a gin and tonic, and about the earliest time I could con the boys into going to bed.  And then I realized - if I could put on one of those comfy velour tracksuits after getting out of the shower, everything would be ok. Preferably it would be in a shade of mauve. I would slip on my leisurely lounge suit and complete relaxation would be achieved.

C'mon, you know it.

In other news, perhaps what's adding to my need of relaxation is the HOLIDAY the family took last week.  It was the type of holiday when you need a holiday after taking the holiday.  It was awesome, mind you.  My singing group had been invited to perform a concert in a theatre in Montmatre, Paris.  And yes, it was almost as glamorous as that sounds!  Jem and I decided to make a whole week of it and flew down with the boys to get a glorious belly full of croissants and art galleries and DISNEYLAND and riding on the Parisian metro.  I won't go into details, but rather present you with a series of short observations (which seems to be becoming my signature lazy style of summing up a trip abroad):



1) Although at first  we suspected that a visit to Disneyland was just a dream for our generation. But the boys soon understood what all the fuss was about.

2) I am no longer the cutest person to ever have worn a pair of mouse ears.

3) Certain legendary roller coasters at the big "D" are just an excuse to physically and psychologically abuse the visitor.


4) There's a bargain for everyone to be found in Parisian flea markets.  Why does my buy look like I got it at a country fair in Latvia?


5) Putting concerns of responsible presentation of indigenous cultures aside for a wee moment - the Quai Branly and its dazzling array of ethnographic sculpture is awesome.


6) A well-planned educational iPad application can entertain children in an art museum for 3 HOURS! I kid you not!


7) In the event of the museum NOT having an educational iPad application, just risk giving your 7-year-old your camera.  They will be amused for ages taking blurry shots of anything.  EVERYTHING.


8) The reason why the Eiffel tower is such an over-photographed and over-promoted piece of Victorian  metal construction is because it is stunning, and surprising, and elegant.  Still.

9) Unlike Latvia - spring has well and truly sprung in France.


10) The French are so cultured, they even build hotels for the insects in the parks.

11) Celebrating your 8th birthday with your family in a tiny little apartment in Paris ROCKS.


12) Singing your heart out for an hour to an interested and enthusiastic audience of French is a rewarding experience.  And signing autographs on CDs after the concert is, well - simply hilarious.


So that's about it for me - and him. As usual, a very comprehensive post about the ins and outs of our travels, eh. Bonsoir!