Ouch! For weeks now I’ve been cultivating, fertilizing, & grooming the lip field for the mad Hungarian Mustache Contest. I submitted the “in progress” photos. One of those went into the final mustache photo bucket, which was not where I wanted it, since it wasn’t the final, but whatever. But then another photo, of the final result, was supposed to be submitted by Sunday, to an actual person instead of the automated system they were using. I hadn’t read that particular e-mail closely enough, evidently, and when I did so this morning, it was too late! The caterpillars were out of the bag, the judges had made their decision. So no springtime in Budapest for us. The only bad thing, really, about this is that I shaved off the chin hair, the bottom of the Van Dyke as it were, to present nothing but mustache for the purists.
Ah, well, at least now I know how to say “how are you” informally in Hungarian: hogy vagy? (pronounced roughly as “hodge vodge?”).