I remember from childhood a dark fall evening when women from the village would come to our house for tearing feathers and drinking sweet quince vodka.
On that night our house smelled like freshly baked cake and plum marmalade.
All rooms were heated with tiled stoves and the meeting itself always took place in the kitchen - the heart of our home.
Polish Cultural Center in Seattle
Annual Polish Bazaars in Polish Cultural Center happen twice a year: in Fall and in Spring. These...