Czech Petrie Dish: Mold Bustin

I feel it incumbent to start with a shot like this. Certainly one of the most enjoyable things about being on the eighth floor are views like this. As you can see, once again fog, but the sun is burning it away. And I must add, that we seem to be having an early thaw... as tempts have been in the high 40's to even 50 this month. ...and to add, more welcomed sun.

Now to other things..

OK, I realize that we haven't posted an entry in a while - blame it on the winter blues! There are things to speak about I suppose and with such a delay, perhaps you might expect to hear something amazing. Here is something that is certainly out of the ordinary... a recorded history of our experience with Czech mold. Really, I ask you: What can be more interesting than mold?

I suppose my too long battle with mold at Cudahy Library is a testament to having been affected by inhaled spores so much so that it is always "on the brain". I also think, and must confess, that having been educated to its nature, I can now attest to its effect physically, as we did experience some symptoms.

Either way, the shot above is the worst spot we have. It's the pantry. A great source of diet for mold... as it needs not only a good surface, but a food source. Also, the wall in the pantry is an external wall and the entire structure of the building is built from concrete. And since concrete sweats, moisture builds up on the above wall. Moisture, darkness and food... perfect place to grow mold. We bought a spray bottle of bleach... this is the best method of quick abatement. Yes, I got a headache from the fumes, but it was short lived. Plus the headache was offset by the satisfaction of having killed the mold.

Now - of little other interest but a moment of our life... most particularly Mari's...

Above is or I mean 'was' Mari's bed. It is or 'was' a giant inflatable mattress. As you can see, dejected Mari looks at its utter lack of quality. I know you must wonder how this happened. Let's just say that at three o'clock in the morning, Elise's stomach decided to reject its contents from our eariler supper. In a pre-awakened stupor, a blurred but concerted effort was made to move all other articles away from Elise's devastation. In the process a small basket - and possibly a left-over Christmas tree pine needle - scuttled Mari's raft. There was a moment of silence. Then we heard the hissing... In one moment, both girls' beds were out of commission. As there is only one other bed in the apartment, which is actually a couch pretending to be a bed, the remainder of the night's sleep occurred in uncomfortable places, or in my case at the computer, as it seemed there was little room at the inn.

Just so you get this experience in its entirety: Elise's bed with the fan drying the disinfected mattress.


Now for something completely unrelated. This is for all you librarians or library para-professionals... or whatever other title they give you so as to create a class distinction.

Check out this turrent of books! Located in Prague's City Library.

See, a close up. Mostly Czech titles.
Think of it as a giant Jenga game... tempting isn't it?

We had so many books at Cudahy... we could have built a castle. That would show them crazy Czechs!


Well, looks like I'm on a roll, so why stop.
This is my gym I try to go to several days a week. It has become necessay as the food around here seems to like me... and I return the compliment as I'm just that kind of guy... which means that there is a lot more of me. Hence the Gym...
Perhaps you wonder how this can be interesting? Please...

Here in the entry is a shoe port. Those lockers are for your shoes. They provide sandals for you to work out in. ...yes, sandals to work out in.
See, mirror and machines and a flash video screen showing Euro vids. Fancy.
I have to say, the music here is it own sort of clubby synth stuff. Mari and I refer to it as "bouncy happy synth music". It doesn't really make us happy, but I suppose there are those who do enjoy life in such a way that we can never appreciate. OK, I confess, it's not so bad and will probably miss it when I'm gone. Don't tell anyone this. Now I feel compelled to say more about this music. I have heard a version of This Mortal Coil's, "Song to a Siren" which was made into a a club track here. To those who don't know this tune, this will mean very little. To those who do, yes, it's true... it's possible. To make the point once more, I heard a clubbed up synthesized version of Samuel Barber's "Adagio for Strings". I kid you not....and it strangely worked, meaning that I liked it. I must be eating too much pork and cabbage.

Notice the orange? The whole country likes this color and lighter variations of it.

Now, there is something else to note here about our experience in this country. The gym scenario perhaps provides the perfect moment to refer to this. Some people are extremely healthy here... I would say even quite strong. This is most apparent in the Gym. There is one particular gentleman whom I don't even know... but he is very strong. When he is in the room working out, all must realize the obviousness of this... for even if you can't see him, you will come to nose it. Yes... I am playing with this notion of strength, and to make a point that there are people who seem to have an aversion to masking such things. From another angle there are some that think all that is natural is preferable and a sign of good health. This guy must be extremely healthy. But I must disagree with the naturalists... for I can not call such things good.

This is Marcel. He is a good man and should NOT be associated with the above. He is one of the managers and we often try to talk. He wants to learn English and he likes to try to teach me Czech. That is my paper and pen on the desk as I can't remember unless it's written.

Hmmm, I seem to have run out of pictures to comment on. Let me by way of conclusion speak to the absence of recent blog entries. Not feeling it really. It's that simple. I think we're in a new phase here of our stay. We're not new here anymore. Yet it's not our home. We know the drill and have in some ways settled into life here but all the while knowing it's not our life and that we must think about the return. This seems to put us here in terms of observers, meaning that we aren't going native. If we were staying, we should engage differently I think ... but we're not, and I think we're OK with that.
But the weather is warm and Paris, Berlin and Italy loom as serious possibilities...