When the words come, they are merely empty shells without the music. They live as they are sung, for the words are the body and the music the spirit.
Hildegard of Bingen
The numbers are the temperature when I left for school this morning; by late afternoon we had snow flurries and the temp was closer to 32/0. The wind was extremely strong and weeks ago the lead teacher said Hungarians equate wind with winter, so she was proved right in this instance.
When I got home this afternoon the computer wouldn’t start. I tried various things, none of which worked, and noticed that the radiator in the apartment was warm, and I wondered if the machine could have gotten cold on the walk home? It felt cool, not cold, but I set the computer on the radiator anyway and ten minutes later tried it. Whether that was the cause/solution, I don’t know, but it’s working now.
Speaking of cool, for the past few days I’ve been drinking a dry white wine made from the Furmint grape, the grape that is the basis of Tokaj, the dessert wine. I don’t mean to say I’ve been drinking bottles of the stuff – I have a glass or two with dinner, so a bottle lasts a while. Zala county, where I live is wine country, but Tokaj/Furmint’s original home is diagonally opposite Zala, in the northeast.
I was expecting the students, after a week off, to have come to school full of energy, but it was just the opposite – the first classes were lethargic and it was the last class of the day that had spunk.