19-VIII-1973.
Busy all day, sandpapering the window panes. Relatively lacking of sleep, I went on foot, bought a "Milion" in Gramag, engraved a dedication in ballpoint pen, feathered away to Mariška's, it's the birthday party. The company still thin but music good. Killed some time arguing with a guy, who claimed I can get a stereo sound from my radio with an adapter. She was sipping blackberry wine (still in production, after 2020!), then had beer, then sandwiches, mixing at large. Kicked right. Poured beer to Mariška's dog, then (... 256 words...)
Lice on roses, so poison them...
After sobering up, in Mariška's kitchen, we promise not to give each other a month off anymore, and she won't drink no more. The decision on my side is that the deal we had in may, that after we reconvene in august, we keep until october and then she goes to study... is not good, too short, no matter how sensible it may sound. What we have among us is much stronger, we'll run it for as long as it goes.
(... 68 words...)
I escorted her, she gave me her bicycle, promised to come for it on wednesday, arrived home at half six.
Nothing was happening on monday. Possibly I was due a visit to the dentist, but that was out of consideration. There were two teeth to pull out urgently, but no, it won't work after a drunken night, so I didn't pull out the other one. It served me fifteen years more. This is where I learned not to trust dentists too much.
The "Boom 72" double LP came from Varaždinecs. I sand the windows, behind my back the Mladi Levi thunder. Vanji dropped by, dunno what for.
Next day, 21st, same except him.
On wednesday 22nd, there she is. Says (... 12 words...) "lemme see the pictures". I showed her the ones from vacation (except the one with Marta in my lap, that I sent to her via Franc, luckily Anja is nowhere), and then what Vanji picked for exhibition. Next to each other, she and mom with tongues stuck out, that made an impression. At the gate can't finish kissing, set time for tonight.
In the evening the fourth girl from her gang left us two deci of wine, she passed the popravni. She just kissed the bottle, the rest to me. We stuck to our hidden corner, I sipped the wine(... 110 words...) there the talk meandered away into infinity.
On 30th, drive, working with majstor in the afternoon, went with mom to buy trousers.
On 31st, around the house in the morning, in the afternoon to Zajač with dad, grandfather is getting worse. I had a feeling this is our last encounter.
The rooms in the background confuse me - in my memory (and on older photos) that's where the stable was, and to the right of it there was a kitchen and a shed. He and his wife mostly stayed there, rarely in the newer house in the front of the yard. I don't know when was the stable remodeled, and why it had two doors. When I was a kid, grandpa would take both horses and give me a ride on his cart, a couple of kilometers, just so I could feel how it is. I remember saying that the ride was bumpier than in a car, which he then repeated to anyone who'd want to hear. The feeling is really weird, when horses start pulling its an imperceptible change from rest to moving, even smoother than a train. And quiet. Horses, somehow, did it uphill too - between the gate and the road there was just enough space, so he'd pull the brake, go down to close the gate, then run the horses and release the brake. The road is more than a meter above the gate, it's a considerable slope, but horses didn't mind, the same jerkless start as on a plane.
Don't know who the woman with kids in the door was. Could be auntie Janja if she was fatter; can't be tetka as her children are big girls. Probably a neighbor. I don't remember them having tenants, maybe they did. Don't know whose fića is behind, on the left, I see it was a newer model, with larger headlights. Zastava never managed to make its own presses, it was always the Italians who did them, so the design changes were reduced to what was screwed or hooked on, the mold stayed always the same. The plum trees are the same ones from fifteen years ago, finally grown enough to sit under.
At night, when we returned, cut my hair. It's a pity so much of it went away.
Mentions: auntie Janja, fića, majstor, popravni, tetka Mima, Vilmoš Baranji (Vanji), Zajač, in serbian
9-VIII-2022 - 27-III-2026