august 1984.
(... 6 words...) When her maternity leave ended, whole year as law said, she returned to finish her internship aka stažing. (... 98 words...)
They three went to Borik again and took Go with them. There's one negative they shot there, and none shot at home for the whole summer. Now whether I really shot nothing or it got lost, I don't even remember. The middle eighties are a large hole in my memory, even what I do remember I can't place by year. It's a smear.
We mostly stayed at home, me having fun with zx spectrum, and she'd sew or knit. In the evening we'd mostly watch teevee or play solitaire (it was already functional!). We may have gone to the swimming pool a few times. Nina we'd at times take to Oma. We'd ride a bus to there, leave her, take the same bus back (an hour later). Repeated the routine, same bus, the next days. It so occurred that three days in a row there was a summer shower, the standard fifteen minutes of torrent, during our ride back, the kind that leaves the smell of freshly doused dust and cooling asphalt. The fragrance reminded me of childhood, granma would sprinkle water on the paths around the house, to tie the dust and cool the soil. By the time we reached our street, it would clear completely, and on our side of the railway, roughly between Učubić's house and that of Igračkini, there would be a whole lake, curb to curb. The drainaga canals were never properly done and then got stuck and never cleaned. To avoid stepping through that, we decided to ride one station further, to šećerana. But it happened that the train was passing, the bus had to stop, we asked the driver to let us out. When the train passed, we'd quickly walk over to the other side, then wait for the bus to drive over the puddle, and briskly walk in its wake, as it'd push away just enough water. I could take long strides in my clogs. We did this three days in a row.
Two or three times we managed to agree on visiting, with Loba and Magi. Once we went to their place, and I think we got solidly drunk, as there wasn't much food. Then they visited us. She prepared, which was a grand novelty, rebaked pancakes in a plek. Loba immediately said it was too much, there's no way we'd eat all of that, „I eat less than my cat [does]“. Because, you see, he's a poor fasting painter, of hedonism he practices only the bottled kind, and the horizontal.
For drinks we got beers. The zrenjaninsko wasn't as it was until 1975, but as they say, „the best beer is the one that's always equally bad“ - we grumbled, gossiped about the brewery, everybody knew who was fucking with whom or who's no talking with whom in there, and went on drinking as we used to. We had hot peppers from somewhere - possibly the first crop from the placić - which Loba used as an excuse, each time he went for seconds from the plek, „this hot stuff has really wound up my appetite“. I think they were simply hungry for everything. Romantics, artists life, it's all nice, but body has its own demands.
(turns out I already wrote this under 13-VII-1985.... like I said, mid-eighties are a blind spot in my memory)
Mentions: 13-VII-1985., Borik, Gorana Sredljević (Go), Margita Gunaroši (Magi), Nevena Sredljević (Nina), Oma, plek, Slobodan Šumić (Loba), solitaire, staž, šećerana, Učubić, ZX Spectrum, in serbian
8-VII-2021 - 19-IV-2026