Cee’s B&W Photo Challenge: Eat and drink

Three posts have lined up nicely and enabled my offering for today. Thank you.

First, Ishita posted a quote on Italophilia which, after almost three years living here, I can verify is nothing if not true:


Then I saw that Cee’s Black & White Photo Challenge for this week is on the subject of food and beverage. It’s interesting to view black and white images of food because lack of colour tends to render familiar stuff inedible. My photos are not from Italy (except the first when amore made what they call prosciutto) but rather from my homeland, Slovenia. For some reason I seemed to focus on drinks. More information in captions.

And lastly, to balance it out , I just saw a post on My Food Odyssey about the book by Michael Pollan with the title “In Defense of Food” and the film based on it that answers the question “What shall I eat?” in a very straightforward, and catchy, fashion:

Eat food,
not too much,
mostly plants.

Lucky me. The beverages above are made from plants!

Photo: MM



Quote reblogged from Joeyfully Stated. Reading her “Oneness”, and watching “The Inside Job”, and watching “The Wolf of Wall Street”, made me burst out in the comment at Joey’s:

This is very true. And it will never be truer than when the ‘top’ 1% get hit on the head. They live in fear of that day, and it will come, because they refuse to be one with us. They have their own rules. It will be ugly, and it will not be televised.

Practice the oneness. Photo: MM

At wood

A word after a word after a word is power.
Margaret Atwood

It is not exactly new news but I’ve heard about it only now, via The Sarcastic Muse. There will be books in 100 years.

The article describes a meeting with the writer Margaret Atwood. It is lovely in itself and it made me comment that I might feel something similar if confronted with Jeanette Winterson to whom I wrote my open letter (and tried sending it to her via various channels but I’ve never got any proof that she has received it). She has had an influence.

But the astonishing news I found in the article concerns the project Future Library. From its website:

“A thousand trees have been planted in Nordmarka, a forest just outside Oslo, which will supply paper for a special anthology of books to be printed in one hundred years time. Between now and then, one writer every year will contribute a text, with the writings held in trust, unpublished, until 2114. Tending the forest and ensuring its preservation for the 100-year duration of the artwork finds a conceptual counterpoint in the invitation extended to each writer: to conceive and produce a work in the hopes of finding a receptive reader in an unknown future.”

And this is the most optimistic thing I have heard in a while, since this is such an optimistic week. Not only will there be people who know how to read in one hundred years, but they count on the trees to continue giving us books. I don’t know which is more precious.

The project began in 2014. The first writer to deliver a book was Margaret Atwood – her piece has a title “Scribbler Moon” – and the second will be David Mitchell.

Every year one writer will deliver a text.

If you think about it like this, I’m still so young. If I start now, I might get offered to write a text for my 100th birthday.

From Slovenian coast, facing Italy. “Nono” is Grandpa, from Italian, not a no-no. This will not last one hundred years. Better hopes for the future of books.

Photo: MM

Happy January 16

This day I see a little bit like birthday too, even though mine will only follow in exactly four months. Let’s see.

It is because it has been the birthday of my first best friend in school, who is now far, and another good friend who is farther.

Since last year when I greeted both with a post on here, another has been added to form a happy trio. He lives on the other side of the world. The names of all three of them start with an M, incidentally. I don’t know so very much about him but for sure he loves dogs too.

That’s why I have decided to dedicate to all three of them the following selection of Texts from Dog. He is a bulldog (like me: Taurus + dog in Chinese, for any who take care of these things) and he sends SMS messages to his owner. If you don’t know him yet, check out his site. Apparently there are books out and all. Every time I read these, I look at my dog in a different light. He is about to start typing, I can feel it.

These are listed in the growing order of how much I love them. Bestia above is already laughing.

Wishing all three of you, and everybody else, much fun with these. Happy birthday and a great year ahead!


All taken from

And to add one of my own, of bestia on the beach in autumn:

“How do you mean, all the people have gone? Does that mean only bears are left??”

Photo: MM

November 1st

It might be a holiday, but it’s not nearly the same as May 1st. It has always meant the cemetery, the chestnuts, the candles, the ikebanas, the gathering, without the scary and fun Hallo-Wien undertones – I’m a child of socialism and proud of it.

So today my family visited the graves of my grandparents and other relatives once again, like I used to do along with them every year. Sometimes there was snow, heavy rain, sleet, cold, or it was a lovely autumn day. This morning they were even greeted by a little earthquake (well, over 4 on one of the scales) with the epicentre not far from the only Slovenian nuclear power plant. That was practically built on a tectonic break. Fragile indeed.

The fact that the earthquake was almost exactly where migrants have been entering Slovenia for a while now will go without mentioning. But here is how I have been feeling all this time, regardless of the fact that I am removed already:

 By Arend Van Dam

What I did today was go around with the bike and bestia and gather some photo flora for a virtual ikebana, in memory of all who once were warriors but are not here any more.

And also for me a little. Today marks eight years since I stopped smoking. All of you who are still smoking: today I’ll make an exception and let you read what I think about you. 🙂 (Which is to say: STOPPPPPPPPPPPPPP!!! No need to thank me. You’ll thank yourself later.)

Happy November. As months go, it’s not that bad.

Photo: MM

All important ideas must include the trees, the mountains, and the rivers.
—Mary Oliver

River Fiora at Vulci park.

Like a piece of ice on a hot stove the poem must ride on its own melting.
—Robert Frost

“I have used up all my motives to smile, but then you arrived. Ti amo.” Imagine reading this from your window first thing in the morning. In Roma they know how to love.

There are three rules for writing a novel. Unfortunately, no one knows what they are.
—W. Somerset Maugham (quote reblogged from The Sarcastic Muse)

In Roma they know how to live: if you strike those keys, it goes more easily. All photos: MM

In Roma they know how to live: if you strike those keys, it goes more easily. All photos: MM