No lies, what does it feel like to hit rock bottom?

The Croatian word for March is Ožujak, which has two possible interpretations. It could be connected to the weasel (lasica), which is a nod to creatures emerging from winter hibernation; or more pertinently, that it derives from the word laž, the "lying month".

Just as you think spring has arrived, there is serious snowfall and biting cold wind. A mix of hope and despair.

February, large fires and ferocious weather

The Croatian word for February is veljača and is derived from old Slavic roots relating to changing or shifting, often referring to the moody, unstable weather of the month. And certainly this month has lived up to its reputation with a heady mix of rain, wind, cold, fog, and then the occasional promisingly sunny day.

What have we achieved over the past few weeks? 

Hard work for a hard month

The Croatian word for January, siječanj, is most often associated with the verb "to cut". Traditionally, the name is thought to denote the time when wood was cut (seča drva) or to symbolise the harsh, "cutting" cold and frost - something that has plagued us since before Christmas.

We were a long way from the olives of coastal Dalmatia!

It has been about twelve months since we started work on the village property. Last year, the forgotten time between Christmas and New Year was spent clearing the jungle and removing as many wild pears, and koštela, feral vines and vicious brambles as possible. This year’s holiday has been a different story as the weather has been seriously inclement; if it wasn’t pouring with rain, it was bitterly cold.

Another Brick in the Wall

Walls. What is “wall”? Is it a mental block where you are struggling to find the words to express ongoing emotional mayhem? Perhaps it is the concrete shell of a house which needs styrapol, glue and render to protect it from the elements? 

Or even better, maybe it is an absence of wall, where one has fallen down.

Clips from village life in Autumn: Grape jelly, caterpillars, and dubious trucks

Three recent snapshots from September 2025, just little sketches to remind us to laugh at the ridiculous. It doesn't get more ridiculous than too many grapes, unknown baby plants, and a really dangerous truck!

Snakes and ladders, and other nonsense

Where are we at the village house after this two-week hiatus of moving? After the house move, my routine is definitely out of whack, which combined with a head cold allergy combo, meant that my brain was feeling a bit scatty (no change there then!). I forgot my coat, the firelighters, and the better-tasting bread. Such is life. This blocked nose didn't bode well for all the bending over and hacking at weeds.

Autumn postcards of village life

Two small pieces about recent events. Life in the village has hotted up, just as the weather has cooled down. I'm just grateful that we have a wood-burning stove to make hot tea when we are working. Obviously this is based on fact but some elements have been embroidered where necessary!