When Pigs Fly: Thoughts on Slavs, Santa, and eating the family pet

One of the things I like blogging is traveling the world from the comfort of my lounge room. I love travel and meeting people from different culture and hearing their stories but won’t be getting overseas for the foreseeable future. Anyway, I really enjoyed Victoria Doherty’s blog which shares her Slavic roots. I have already reblogged some of her posts at Beyond the Flow and can’t reblog them here but I recommend visiting her blog and looking up under “love”. xx Rowena

Cold

Let me tell you a little bit about my people…

Slavs are salty. Playful but intense, eccentric. We thrive on poetic double meanings, and can be as dark as we are passionate and sentimental. We believe in curses and we believe in that tiny, niggling feeling – the kind that prophecies are made of.  The soul’s equivalent of that barely detectable scratch in your throat just before a debilitating bout with the flu.

We’ve brought the world bawdy intellectuals, literary janitors, scientist priests and philosopher politicians.

And we are warm.  We welcome our guests not with a shake of the hand and a cold drink, but a kiss, an embrace, a plate of hot food and a glass of strong liquor that burns as it goes down.

It’s about this time of year that I get sentimental about being a Slav, because, well, I’m an American.  I married an American…

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