Joseph Broz Tito--Yugoslavia Remembers

Tito's birthday was May 25, yesterday, and many people went to the "House of Flowers", a site in Belgrade that has been the celebratory locale to honor the former President of Yugoslavia. Other dates are considered his birthday but they seem to celebrate May 25.

Tito was born in Croatia and led what was known as Yugoslavia after World War II until his death nearly 25 years ago. Tito was best known for bringing together disparate Balkan nations together as one under the umbrella of "brotherhood and unity". While Tito had his critics--let's face it, he was a Dictator; He was seemingly the only individual to bring together the cultural, ethnic and religiously diverse components that made up the Balkans during that era. And his mandate indeed was to get along.

The country thrived under his rule and law of the land. Some perished, others flourished, but if you were to talk to most people who remain in the countries of former Yugoslavia today, or the refugees in the United States who came to our country from there, most tell me they were better off there. National health care, a job, food on the table, even a car manufacturer and a Winter Olympics in Sarajevo in 1984.

Tito bent enough to placate the West but never cozied up to Stalin, Franco, or Mussolini in Italy. His "communism" was a brand all his own; more moderate by Western standards, more socialist, and perhaps more humane. Tito embraced the diversity of his countrymen by and large.

With Tito's death and a dearth of power hungry politicians from the various Republics who did not actually possess the same charisma or political capital, the country fell apart, and Nationalism led by Slobodan Milosevic of Serbia prevailed for a time.

I will not point fingers here. There is plenty of blame to go around. It includes Franco Tudjman of Croatia, leaders of Slovenia and others from the multi-country rotating Presidency that ran Yugoslavia after Tito's death.

One thing I have noticed world-wide is that when Dictators die, there typically is no one who is the up and coming credible leader waiting in the wings. That leads to Nationalism, ethnic cleansing, religious wars, military takeovers and power struggles that drag down all the nations associated with this kind of scenario.

But, I do say--rest in peace Josep Broz Tito. You inspired a nation and left a legacy of communist rule unrivaled in the modern world for effectiveness with less brutality. And I love the countries of former Yugoslavia. May they all prosper as Democracies and join the European Union and NATO and ultimately live again as brother and sister and unity as neighbors, instead of rivals.

Dubrovnik--A Most Beautiful City

The first time I set foot in Dubrovnik I was so star struck I was beside myself. The "Stari Grad", as the old walled city is called, has marble streets, quaint nooks and crannies and one of the oldest water systems still in operation in Europe. When you stroll atop the wall of the city your senses are taken in completely by the turquoise blue waters of the Adriatic, the smell of the sea, and the sight of islands, the old harbor lined with small fishing vessels, and local woman who swim every morning at the old harbor.
I found the best way to meet locals and get to know them was by hanging out at that harbor. One morning armed with very little language skill I approached a fisherman who was mending net. I showed him I was interested in what he was doing and between my poor Croatian, my intent on learning, and my rain boots and rain gear, he invited me to go out on his boat for the day. What an adventure. I think I learned every version of jabate--the Croat word for that other four letter word we're not allowed to say in English. Croats, much like the Irish, seem to have a penchant for turning jabate into a verb, noun, adjective, adverb and gerund in the most creative of ways. I found myself laughing so hard I nearly fell out of the boat. That's when he figured out that despite my poor language skills, I'd learn the one thing all people learn when they are taught a new language--how to swear like a sailor!
Another morning I went down with my swimsuit, discreetly changed in to it by some rocks at the old harbor with the other women, and proceeded to plunge into the 55 to 58 degree water. The shriek that came out of my mouth had the older women laughing and they jumped in and joined me. We all hurried out to warm up, and that was when the conversation ensued. I speak a little German so that was one language we could converse in. Another spoke some Italian and that was even better because I do speak Spanish. Then a Spanish woman was at the same area swimming and she joined in. We had this epic multi lingual conversation that probably resembled a game of telephone. But most mornings for nearly two weeks in the late March and early April of 2007 I went to join the local ladies who taught me more Croatian and about what it was like in Dubrovnik when Tito was alive. I'll save those impressions for another post.

Springtime for Now

I've spent quite a bit of time the past 6 weeks getting my garden dug up, compost turned under, tree trimming for fence building next week and repairing the chicken coop. The hard work has paid dividends as I'm eating radishes and spinach, and the girls are laying 3 eggs each day (3 girls--1 egg each. I've got some cool little LED lights that are solar operated that add a touch of magic at night. And all the purples and other lovely colors of flowers are blooming. So all in all things have gone well.

But alas, I'm a bit worried as I head off to camp at a hot springs with friends on what may well be a freeze and snowfall in Boise. So, I'm crossing my fingers and looking at a back up plan with a neighbor and will need to find a ginormous tarp to cover the garden overnight so my tender little eggplants, peppers, tomatoes, squash and green beans don't get nuked. Not too mention those pretty Peruvian Blue spuds.

And lastly, Reuben the wonder dog was in desperate needs of haircut. He was looking like some hippie dog from the 60's hanging out in Eugene, Oregon on campus. Now he looks like a proper Welsh Terrier, even if he's got teeth that would impress any dentist.

Harbor Freight as a Religious Experience

Johnny Montezuma goes to the church of Harbor Freight. I've known for quite some time that Johnny routinely worships at the alter of Harbor Freight. But I really knew very little about the why or how of Harbor Freight. I'd always thought it was a religion for cheapskates and old folks wearing their Lions Club vests. You know the type; they look like twin siblings instead of a married couple, because they have totally assimilated one another just like the Borg does on Star Trek.

Anyways, I decided to venture over to the "church" during my lunch hour today. I'd scoped out their location a couple weekends ago. The "church" was closed when I drove by in West Boise almost to the Meridian city line. So I logged into my memory synapse the location and decided to drive on down Fairview Avenue from my office to see what it was like when the brethren were on site.

Wow is all I can say. Big WOW! This place is like a pawn shop of new stuff you didn't know you needed. You don't even need a shopping list because the minute you get in the place you start to realize they have stuff you would actually use. Gorilla glue or its cheaper cousin with the same indentical ingredients for 2/3 less money. Those solar lights like butterlies you wanted for the garden. The wet tile saw that would cost you a ridiculous amount at Home Depot, but you'll only do one tile job at home anyways and it will take you weeks, so you can't afford to rent it from Tates Rental for weeks while you get your act together between brewskies, watching the Stanley Cup Playoffs and mowing the lawn.

Well, I made it for under $50 on my first visit. I picked up wannabee gorilla glue, some of those electrical ties I use for plastic fencing and staking my tomato plants, some cute butterfly solar lights, a really cool frisbee gizmo for the dog as well as a nice 30 foot line for him to run wild on in camp from between two trees. And a few other things are in the bag I've already forgotten. It will be Christmas when I get home.

So that said, I now consider myself a member of the Church of Harbor Freight. Johnny Montezuma did a good job proselytizing and making me a convert. Living in Idaho Falls with all those proselytizers from another faith must have rubbed off on him.

Thanks Johnny. You're the best. Oh, I remembered the other gizmo in the bag. A magnesium fire starter. I've wanted one of those for camping in the rain and winter backcountry skiing for years. Now I have one and it cost only $2. Hail Harbor Freight.

Hawk and Dove

While eating dinner on Monday evening after the deluge rainstorm subsided, my summer house sitter and I were chit-chatting about care of the chickens and Reuben, the Welsh Terrier terrorist. Out of nowhere came a horrific crash into the dining room window.



Outside on the picnic table lay a window-stunned Hawk of some variety, with a Mourning dove tucked underneath. The Hawk was flapping its wings wildly while stunned upon the table. The dove was very much alive and attempting to escape from underneath the body of the Hawk. Reuben, meanwhile, was sniffing the two bird sprawled out on his little childs picnic table where he lays around watching the goings on in the backyard. He slipped a distance away, in awe of what had happened.



Solomon and I raced to the back door to ensure Reuben didn't eat the birds and to hopefully prevent a further bird altercation. The dove managed to slip away during the time it took to get through kitchen and out the back door. The quivering Hawk was also perched high up in the Green Ash tree of my next door neighbor, some twenty feet or more above us.



A few feathers were "glued" to the window that had been the Hawks unfortunate destination, and a little bird blood. Needless to say, having a Hawk fly into your dining room window is not an every day occurrence. Guess I'm going to have to get one of those "bird" images for the window, because this is the second time a bird has flown into the window.