'About Us' - Marysia
We were going through some papers and found, among some snippets, the original newpaper cutting announcing my sister's birth which is reproduced above - whereas we used to laugh at Dad's propensity to cut items of interest from newspapers, on this occasion it proved a real historical treasure!
For my sister's landmark birthday I have created a personalised 'Wordle' for her containing references to the great day, her love of books and wishing her a very personal birthday wish - I got her lots of presents too!
Marysia created this embroidered peace candle cowl following the death of her friend Anna Aniela Naganowicz to be displayed in her memory at St. Hugh's Church in Nottingham - the flowers represent many memories shared, the fuchsia being Anna's and mine favourite flower, the Poppy has always been Marysia's favourite, the thistle denotes Scotland and her love of it and finally the humble cornflower beloved by all Poles growing up everyhwere 'Maki, habry i brawatki pachnące'
Winners and judges in the 2012 Spyke Golding Literary Award.
(L-R) Steve Westby, Chair of Nottingham CAMRA; Judges, Colin Wilde, with (behind) Amanda and Mick Bajcar; (front) winner Charlie Harris, and runners up Harry Burton and Marysia Wariwoda.
Marysia is on the front row extreme right as you look at the screen. The Nottingham Drinker .pdf file can be found here:
Her opus is reproduced below and will appear in the Nottingham Drinker (watch this space) later in the year.
Way back in the 50’s (1950’s of course) our Grandad had an allotment where he grew not only the tastiest vegetables and fruit but he also had a greenhouse in which he cultivated tomatoes and vines. The grapes were hard and horribly sour but the wine which he made from them was pure nectar. It had an amber glow due in no small measure to the honey which he used to ferment it. He took the honey from the bees he kept in several hives.
I remember my three year old little sister jumping up and down in an old bath and getting gloriously messy whilst treading the grapes in the old fashioned tradition. She maintains to this day that the wine was sweeter for her input.
The allotment was quite a magical place really – I used to go up there straight from school and spend a couple of happy hours with Grandad learning all about growing fruit and vegetables.
We would walk home down the hill each carrying a basket full to the brim with home grown goodies for Mother to turn into delicious and healthy meals.
While Mama was doing this I would get on with my homework and granddad would disappear for an hour or so only to return when dinner was ready with a large jug of foaming ale, which I learned later, he’d bought at our local pub just a few doors away. Obviously this was for the grown ups but occasionally we would be given a sip. However I never really acquired a taste for it though it always looked invitingly refreshing.
Meat was expensive in those days so rarely appeared on the table, but as we also kept hens, eggs were a staple for us children.
But I’d like to return to the bees – they are such fascinating creatures. It really is true that they know their keepers and ours never stung either Grandad or me after I had been introduced to them. The honey they produced was mostly clover fed and it was thick and sweet with healing properties. It could also be made into mead.
One of the saddest things I ever had to do was tell the bees that Grandad had died and pass them onto another beekeeper. I had to de-register them at the old city courthouse. I was 10 years old at the time.
You’re wondering what on earth these reminiscences have to do with either beer or cider well, patience my friends, patience.
Our Uncle Bibi would come over and spend his Christmases and Easter with us and was a perfect jewel of a man. He arrived on his wonderful motorcycle with probably the most unusual of presents – a string of frankfurters and several bottles of simply delicious porter, which we children would ogle greedily. That brew I did get a taste for rather early on and then proceeded to perfect at various local beer festivals.
And now to probably the main reason for writing this – when I went away to college I finally discovered that I too had a talent of sorts. Up to then I and the rest of the family despaired of ever finding a talent which could be called my own.
Having watched Mama cook all my life I suddenly found myself in digs with the use of the landlady’s kitchen. And so I set to cooking my own mini meals and they turned out rather well. Emboldened by this success I planned dinner parties when I started work. More success, I became quite proud of this achievement and began a new hobby – that of collecting recipes and cookbooks. And finally I discovered the joys of cooking with beer and cider. I never liked cooking with wine and usually omitted it but beer was a completely different matter – the dishes were rich, aromatic and very, very tasty. I bake with cider as my “wet” ingredient and my cakes are every bit as good as Mamas and in the last few weeks I discovered that pancakes made with a beer batter taste just too good to describe.
I may not drink beer or ale but goodness me – I could not do without them in my kitchen.
Marysia, myself (author of this web-site and her sister) and our grandfather Teofil Hajos
You'd have thought I could have written something about her by now wouldn't you? Well, she wants to write her own narrative so I will just provide some clues - she admires the Suffrage Movement and loves poppies.
She enjoys visiting pubs - in particular she has a fondness for the Poppy and Pint and the Aviator in Sywell.
She recently lost the second of her great friends Anna Aniela Naganowicz RIP
Page updated : 13th January 2017