It’s less than a week until I leave, but the time has sped by. Take yesterday, for instance. I got up, wrote some things on this website, ate, patted the Polish cat, ate, worked a bit, ate, picked cherries, helped make a pie (Malgorzata did most of the work), ate, read a book (de Waal’s The Bonobo and the Atheist, which is replete with cringe-making atheist bashing), and so to bed. Where did the day go?
At any rate, nothing extraordinary happened yesterday, but small comforts are valuable. One of them, of course, is the Feline Princess of Poland, shown here in her many aspects. One can’t have too many pictures of Hili.
At breakfast, she put her butt in one of her three food bowls (one for milk, one for dry food, one for wet food):
The Europeans are suffering under what they call a “heat wave,” though it’s only 32°C (about 90°F), a temperature that would be regarded as tolerable in Chicago. Nevertheless, Hili disdains cuddles in the heat, and sprawls in heat-disseminating positions on the couch:
Is there anything sweeter than the peace of a sleeping cat?
In the afternoon, Hili had an attack of hilarity (or something) on the lawn after chasing bees:
The cherry harvest finished yesterday, and there was nary a cherry to be seen. Neverththeless, Malgorzata promised to make a cherry pie (with a walnut-and-almond crust) if I managed to fill a small bucket with cherries. Braving the afternoon heat, I ambled through the orchard, picking one lone cherry from one tree, three from another, and so on. It took a long time to fill this bucket, and I swear that there is not an edible cherry left in the 3,000 trees. This is THE END😦 :
The resultant pie. I’ve just had a luscious slice for breakfast:
Dinner last night was beef tenderloin (rare for me), potatoes, salad, and a premium Polish beer (see below). It turned out that the darkish beer had a weird, funky taste. Reading the back label, Malgorzata found that it was a “winter beer,” recommended to be warmed up with herbs, fruits, vanilla, and cinnamon added. I don’t know why anyone would do that to a beer (though I do like mulled wine on occasion), but the beer was almost undrinkable: the one off-note in an otherwise great dinner.
Do any readers do this to beer in the winter?
This is the beer. In the unlikely event you see it, avoid it!