Fidgeting strangers

Politicians who constantly invoke religion are the bane of this world. Unfortunately, as of today, one of these types is now president of Poland. Thankfully, in Poland the president doesn’t hold as much power as the prime minister does – unlike in the US. Still, it’s a worrying sign of where a portion of my compatriots seems to be heading: resentment towards immigrants, fearfulness, anti-intellectualism, nationalism, and support for other nasty things wrongly called "tradition", like hypocrisy, violence, nepotism & hierarchies. There’s not much I can do about it, I can vote and keep living on my own terms.

I’ve been reading a really good book recently, Will and Testament by Vigdis Hjorth. It caused quite a stir in Norway after it was published, mostly because the author’s family seemed to recognise themselves in the story, and they were quick to insist that they weren’t like that (what a hypocritical move – either you recognise yourself in a fictional story, or you don’t, either you know it’s you, or you don’t). The topic is quite heavy: what starts as a dispute over inheritance is soon overshadowed by a serious accusation involving two of the siblings who, at some point, became estranged from the rest of the family.

When I was queuing to buy a flat white and a croissant (the ones in the photo) during my lunch break, there was a guy in front of me tossing and fidgeting with impatience while one of the baristas was serving someone else. The guy kept checking the door, glancing out at the street, like he was waiting for a bus or something. Finally, he was served and went out very agitated. Thought he’d get whatever he had been expecting, but no. I saw him again twenty minutes later, walking with the same impatient energy. I realised, he wasn’t really waiting on anything. The restlessness was from within, not connected to the world.

Easter holidays

Arrrrghgh, I spent the Easter holidays mostly on my own (I'm not counting the Dog). On Saturday evening, with clothes and laptops packed, we drove to Dún Dealgan to catch up with our friends before their trip to the Canary Islands. Fred was working that day, and again the next day, same today. It was raining (only now it's starting to clear up a bit), didn't feel like going outside; I'm bored.

Rang my parents yesterday morning to check how they were. They'd already had breakfast with święconka. I'm not sure if the food (eggs, bread, sausage, salt & butter) was actually blessed, maybe it was, though my parents aren't really firm believers and they usually don't attend Sunday Mass. I, on the other hand, didn't make anything special to eat; I left that chore to my husband, who'd cooked bigos and żurek earlier in the week. We brought all this food with us here, and I had both dishes on Sunday. Later, I watched a very interesting film, The Outrun (2024), with Saoirse Ronan. I recommended it to Fred, and we ended up watching it again together in the evening.

Side note: I tend to say "Happy Holidays" to people around Easter time, though I know it's not a typical greeting in English. In Polish language we have the phrase Wesołych świąt, which works well for both, Christmas and Easter, and for any other religious holiday that involves joy & happiness. I like the idea that people who hear the greeting can interpret it in their own way, depending on what kind of holy day they want to observe.

Sometime after breakfast, I was surprised to hear that Jorge Bergoglio, known as Pope Francis, had died that morning. Well, not really surprised – he had been in and out of the hospital over the past few weeks. His official opinions regarding the Russian invasion of Ukraine were abominable, but now the king is dead, long live the king. I'm sure I'll be hearing about this whole circus many more times yet.

So much for the religious subjects. From our bedroom window we have a clear view of the Croslieve Mountain, and a bit of Slieve Gullion to the left, partly hidden by the trees. I want to go out. Not tomorrow. Today!