Another Sunday Picnic

We’re off for another Sunday picnic, this time with my host family and Shirley’s host family plus a couple others. Somebody has to carry the coke and the beer. Others carry the food as we set off on a mile’s walk to a small monastery.

The forest is green in August and the small stream tumbles over many small waterfalls. It had rained earlier in the morning but now there are only cool clouds and an occasional drop from the sky.

We came for this small monastery for our picnic. Although this is called a monastery, no one lives here. It’s more like a chapel in the woods. This one was built in 1997 on the 700th anniversary of something I didn’t understand except the date 1297. Behind the chapel is a bell tower. Many (most?) of the smaller churches have bell towers that are separate from the church. Behind the wooden railing (fence?) is a sheltered picnic spot under the roof with tables just waiting for us.

Ralista, the daughter of my host family and her boyfriend Ivan (left) and cousin.


In the sheltered picnic spot is Ralista with Valentina (left) the mother of my host family and Lyuba, Shirley’s hostess.


The wood was wet and it took a while to start a fire. Yordan, my host is kneeling (center) while somebody has to supervise.


Ground pork patties, chili peppers, and strips of pork fat (Bulgarian bacon) are on the grill.

Two smiling faces enjoying the fact that they can wear a jacket on an August rainy afternoon.

There are smiles all around.

“Аэъ съм въэкресението и живота” Господ Исус Христос. ” “I am the resurrection and the life.” Lord Jesus Christ.

In Bulgarian, Jesus Christ is pronounced EESUS HREESTOS

On the way down from the picnic I found a story tree. I have no idea what the story is because I haven’t written it yet but a tree like this must have a story just waiting to come out.