Nisam gasila svećice skoro dvadeset godina. Ponekad poželim da ih onako sve pojedinačno popalim i oduvam punim kapacitetom pluća. Kako je krenulo, počeće da padaju sa glazure, jer ih je sve više. One svećice u obliku broja su interesantne samo za prvi rodjendan. Ono kao veliki kec na sred torte, kojeg se ni ne sećaš, nego gledaš neke sad već četvrt veka stare fotke i znaš da je bila crvene boje. Nisam ih ni ove godine gasila.
Radujem se torti i alkoholnom filu, koji je nastao mojom modifikacijom recepta, pod izgovorom ,,kore su suve''. Ali tortu ne jedem. Samo liznem varjaču dok filujem. Zovem goste da ih napijem.
Ne radujem se rođendanu, nema euforije, samo omanja panika.
To je dan u godini kada uvek pada sneg, makar prethodnog grejalo sunce i bilo 15 stepeni. Ne vredi. Uvek pada. U vidu perja, stiropora, ledenih kuglica, suv, mokar ili susnežica, on uvek pada. Pomislim ove godine neće, ali iznenadio me rodjendanski sneg ko putare u januaru.
Poneka poruka, poneki poziv, šetnja i jedno čokoladno parče, čisto da narušim pretrčane kilometre i hiljade serija po hiljadu ponavljanja nezamislivih vežbi.
Još deset minuta i 365 dana me deli do sledećeg.
Grtalica ore autoput.
I dalje pada sneg.
-----------------------------
Candles
I haven't blown the candles for at least twenty years. Sometimes I wish light them all up individually and blew them with full lung capacity. There are more and more of them, falling off the glaze is inevitable. Those number-shaped candles are only interesting if you are celebrating the first birthday. Something like huge number one in the middle of the cake, which you don't even remember, but you are looking some (now already 25 years old) photos, and only thing you know that it was red. I haven't blown them this year.
I am looking forward to cake and it's alcohol filled crust, which was created by my modification of recipe with a excuse ,,the crusts are always dry". But I don't eat cake. I just lick the scoop while I am coating the crust with filling. I invite the guests to get them drunk.
I am not fuzzing about birthday, no euphoria, just a dash of panic.
It is a day of year when snow always falls, even though sun was shinning yesterday and it was 15 degrees, the snow will fall. Always falls. Like a feathers, or styrofoam, icy pellets, dry, wet or sleet it will always fall. I thought that this year won't fall, but it surprised me like the snowblowers are surprised with January snow.
Some message, some call, a walk and one chocolate slice, just to interrupt all the miles I had run and thousands repeats of unthinkable workouts I did.
Ten more minutes and 365 more days remain until i add another candle.
Snowblower plows the highway.
Snow is still falling.
MM
image source: tumblr.com
Radujem se torti i alkoholnom filu, koji je nastao mojom modifikacijom recepta, pod izgovorom ,,kore su suve''. Ali tortu ne jedem. Samo liznem varjaču dok filujem. Zovem goste da ih napijem.
Ne radujem se rođendanu, nema euforije, samo omanja panika.
To je dan u godini kada uvek pada sneg, makar prethodnog grejalo sunce i bilo 15 stepeni. Ne vredi. Uvek pada. U vidu perja, stiropora, ledenih kuglica, suv, mokar ili susnežica, on uvek pada. Pomislim ove godine neće, ali iznenadio me rodjendanski sneg ko putare u januaru.
Poneka poruka, poneki poziv, šetnja i jedno čokoladno parče, čisto da narušim pretrčane kilometre i hiljade serija po hiljadu ponavljanja nezamislivih vežbi.
Još deset minuta i 365 dana me deli do sledećeg.
Grtalica ore autoput.
I dalje pada sneg.
-----------------------------
Candles
I haven't blown the candles for at least twenty years. Sometimes I wish light them all up individually and blew them with full lung capacity. There are more and more of them, falling off the glaze is inevitable. Those number-shaped candles are only interesting if you are celebrating the first birthday. Something like huge number one in the middle of the cake, which you don't even remember, but you are looking some (now already 25 years old) photos, and only thing you know that it was red. I haven't blown them this year.
I am looking forward to cake and it's alcohol filled crust, which was created by my modification of recipe with a excuse ,,the crusts are always dry". But I don't eat cake. I just lick the scoop while I am coating the crust with filling. I invite the guests to get them drunk.
I am not fuzzing about birthday, no euphoria, just a dash of panic.
It is a day of year when snow always falls, even though sun was shinning yesterday and it was 15 degrees, the snow will fall. Always falls. Like a feathers, or styrofoam, icy pellets, dry, wet or sleet it will always fall. I thought that this year won't fall, but it surprised me like the snowblowers are surprised with January snow.
Some message, some call, a walk and one chocolate slice, just to interrupt all the miles I had run and thousands repeats of unthinkable workouts I did.
Ten more minutes and 365 more days remain until i add another candle.
Snowblower plows the highway.
Snow is still falling.
MM
image source: tumblr.com
