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It happened that my husband and I went on a trip with pensioners. I immediately got the feeling that we were going to be in good company.
I have known Rozalia Klokočovnik for many years. Actually, it would be fairer to say that she knows me.
After last week's heavy snowfall in Slovenska Bistrica, many streets, pavements and public areas were difficult to navigate.
When the phone rang early that morning, Tatjana Sodin Trunkl at first did not understand the meaning of the words coming from the other end.
I'm standing at the window, watching snowflakes dancing across the sky. They are falling like they haven't in a long time. My memory goes back many years.
Sometimes it is very difficult to describe a place or an idyllic place; it is for me now too. In my memory there is a house on a hill among bushes and woods.
Wood. Trees. Living creatures that attract me very much. I love their crowns and trunks, and especially their varied and branching roots.
As a young graduate teacher, I came to teach in a small village in the Posavje hills. A small village and a small school.
Tuesday in January was one of those days when winter showed its full strength. Some saw it as a white fairy tale, while for others it was a time of worry, unhappiness and cautious glances towards the road.
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