When I first came to Hungary in 1990, washing machines were not found in every flat. In fact, if there was a washing machine it was quite often a Hajdu, or what we called, "the shredder." The amazing centrifuge drier jumped around so much, one had to buy a special rubber doughnut to place it on so that it did not jackhammer through into the apartment below. When my stepmother came to visit one year, her first time out of the US, she loved the centrifuge. My father and I had just come back from the market one morning to find her sitting on the centrifuge bouncing happily along, saying, "Hey Jim, we've got to get one of these!" If you were not luckily enough to have a washing machine, there were plenty of laundromats around, mostly run by the Patyolat company (recognizable by its white swan logo). Last week I went looking for one of the few remaining Patyolats to wash my big down sleeping bag for the winter season. Of course, there are dry cleaners around, but I needed a place that could handle down properly and with a big enough washing machine. There are very few left, but there is still an original Patyolat on the corner of Varmegye u. and Varoshaz u. at Varoshaz u. 3. While I still did get the Hungarian shrug and eye-roll, I left my sleeping bag with them for a week and they cleaned it for only 3800 huf.

Sunday afternoon, new parents Rich and Tara invited me over to carve some pumpkins with the 4-week old twins Jules and Max. I dug out the pumpkin goop, separating the seeds out for roasting with some salt and maybe some paprika, while Rich carved the pumpkins. I also was able to join a rare video Skype conversation with friends Michael (winner of the Terry Pratchett Prize this year) and Nats in Kenya.Then Chris and Nora had me over for a delicious chicken curry later in the evening. It may have been foggy and rainy, but it was still a tok jo day.