This grandmother holds the magic role of the keeper of my childhood. My father was of course always busy, my mother was near us and took a very good care of everything, but baba Vera and her world was the embodiment of warmth, care and family values. Her house, or any other place, where she would come, was instantly transformed into a cozy nest, where everything was clean, tidy, something was being cooked// and the pastry was growing in its bucket for her famous pies, kids were surrounded by care, the cat was taking his lazy waddling walk... And she, while making the soup or cleaning up, she was singing! Singing with ease and fullness, without being shy, and this singing was the proof, that she was enjoying this process of tidying up, of the domestic occupations. It felt as she was structuring up space of the house around, and it was gaining not only physical, but spiritual beauty.
Her house, her attitude for order – it was always our guideline: we, kids, could never imagine a house more clean or more cozy, more heartfelt or more tasty the homemade food. And if we ever managed clean or cook something at home, the most precious grade was to hear: Wow, this is just like as Baba Vera did it!
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