Hens and Thoughts for Christmas

"On the third night of Christmas my true love gave to me

                                     Three french hens!  Two turtle doves! 

And a partridge in a pear tree!"

Mu-ha-ha fear my awesome google-images + paint abilities!
I give you ... three french hens!

I've got Christmas-related-thoughts, so I'm going with the whole today-is-only-the-3rd-of-12-days-of-Christmas giving me until Epiphany in January. On that note, let me wish you a merry day-three-of-x-mas! Enjoy the French chickens! And here are my mildly-ramble-ly-thoughts:

'56 Hungarian Revolution

... the flag with a hole in it

October 23rd is the anniversary of the 1956 Hungarian revolution, so today I'm going to indulge my history-major-side. Junior year I did an Oral History project interviewing a man who fought in the 1956 uprising as a 15 years old. Part of why I find the Hungarian revolution so fascinating is I spent a summer with brilliant Hungarians, I adore Budapest, and my grandma's side of the family is Hungarian. But it's also fascinating because they were my age and even younger, because those two and a half weeks were epic, and because it's the type of story you hope will end well --even when you know the ending.

I hope it's more like a story and less like a term-paper,
because these people were amazing

In October 1956 Polish workers went on strike, an incredibly risky thing to do under a strict communist government. This inspired students at the Technological University of Budapest, they organized a simple protest walking along the Danube down to a statue of Bam - a Polish native and Hungarian hero who had fought in the 1848 revolution. The students created a list of 16 demands and as their protest grew and attracted more and more students and then workers and people from all over the city they went to the radio station to broadcast them.

Their demands were first off the removal of all Soviet troops from Hungary. Soviet forces had liberated Budapest and Hungary from Nazi forces at the end of World War Two. While it is a huge relief when someone gets rid of Nazis, it becomes worrisome when they immediately set up their own secret police in the same office building and people continue to disappear to the dungeons and death, with no sign that the troops have any plans on leaving it is not as acceptable.

The student's 16 demands listed free and legitimate elections open to all parties.

Joys of Moving in July

There are a few things that I would generally advise against and strongly encourage you to avoid.
Such as: stepping on an upside-down pin cushion, eating a twizzler dipped in nacho cheese, moving in July.
Particularly moving in July in Maryland.
During a record breaking heatwave.
When the house has no power.

Not that moving in July during a record-setting-heat-wave when the house was air-conditioning-less wasn't a brilliant way to spend a week, I just feel the need to keep all that fun for myself and spare you.

Chinese take-out eaten picnic-style on the floor
because you've already moved the table and chairs
might be the best perk of moving

In addition to the joy of having the unique sensation where you're carrying boxes of books upstairs and everything including one's knees, eyelids, and ears sweating, moving in July did have its moments.
The highlights or moving included the opportunity to defy the laws of physics that theoretically govern our planet, by having the amount of stuff (stuff = books) that fit quite fine in a technically two-bedroom-apartment somehow cover every surface in a practically four-story-house. It was honestly impressive to see. Apparently when you box things up they start taking on characteristics of tribbles and you are quickly overrun (although with less cute squeaks and fuzziness).

So much stuff.
Every (much-bigger-than-the-apartment) room in the house looked like this.
So much stuff.