She was the person to which I said one of my dumber things in Romanian. She asked me about my father. I tried to say my father died, but instead I said with extreme confidence "The Pope is Death." I didn't know then that tata is father, not papa. Papa is pope, but I also messed up the verb tense.
I also used to mix up Galina with găină, the Romanian word for chicken, so the Chicken Quilt is affectionately named Galina. I told her about the quilt, well I tried to, and her daughter Laura ended up translating. She wants to see it. They all hope the quilts named after them will be gorgeous and beautifully elegant, so I hope she isn't offended. This one is rustic and farm themed.
Her husband Vasile is the resident butcher around here, they say "cutter." If someone needs an animal "cut" he is the expert. Once we stopped by her brother's house, and the kid's pet goats had hopped onto the kitchen table. The goats (and the kitchen) were covered in sugar and butter and were bleeding from the broken glass of the sugar bowl. They had to face Vasile and all enjoyed a Moldovan bar-b-que of roasted goat. I had named them Costal and Penta, and wanted nothing to do with eating them. They were adorable. Moldova was a tough place to live and like the rest of the family, Galina and her husband are intrepid survivors. I'm keeping my chicken quilt away from Vasile.
|The sun came out for my photo session|
|Galina, the Chicken Quilt|