18-IX-2026.
After entertainment and drinks, and good they were, got up around 11. It suddenly got cold, so after an hour-two of sleep I got up and donned that tee shirt which I use for the pyjama. Lunched soup (the last one of the bone), the leftover roast (shoulder with potatoes) and, surprise, pancakes* with cherry pekmez. Surprise is that by color you never know what's in the jar, it could be cherry, cherry, plum, with or without blackberies, they all look the same. (re cherries, Cherries)
What I added into fes few weeks ago, to give a survey of last 200 pictures used to get kind of stuck - upon exit it does get out, no code running anymore, the frames displaying pictures are gone, but it doesn't quite exit. Found what it was, the little mask needs to have an existing frame for a parent, so to be in the same event loop, or else it slips into its own separate loop, where it doesn't get the signal to exit. Well, works now. Three days later I remembered I may have the same problem in the mrz, tried the same trick there - and that also works now.
Finally went to Klincaid, picked a bucket of pears, a smaller bucket of tomatoes, some vineyard peaches and grapes, not an hour of work. I didn't forget to pick Staša's hose attachment, it just wasn't there. Three weeks ago it was still attached to the hose's end, gone now.
Then to Svetofor - water, the burbled rice (looked up now what's that parboiled rice - it's part boiled, guess the t gets totted). And the proper farina. The millers, just like the meat packers, are happy like little monkeys that they can grind it much finer now, so it somehow looks better now (and with dry meats you can't see the contents, can only guess by taste, which they routinely cover with spices). But with farina it's actually wrong, it sholdn't be so fine, the dumplings come out too dense, the farina should be... farina-like, should have the texture to be different from flour.
Said I won't return the speakers and nanovo upstairs when I return the next day, let it play while we distill the rakija. That's because Aleksa treated us to some shit while we chopped the pears, so it's due to return the favor for once, it's been thirty years since the last time. (... 83 words...)
Saturday, all in good time all morning - got up at nine, coffee, forum, d/rečko (serbian versions of d/wordle), statcounter.prg (flimsy period, except one day when there was 7200 within a few hours, now it's about 200 a day), I even wrote the previous paragraphs. Then I poured rakija to bring along, then loked for our hose attachment and didn't find it, so I packed the new pistol instead, went up to pack the nanovo and speakers, then eos70 and then played solitaire until noon, because it was written (we didn't talk, exchanged messages) that they'll come pick me around half noon, and of course Borče was late. No matter, we still arrived by 12:15 at the same hunters' home as last time, and still weren't the last. The annual party of IV4.
From IV3 only Borče came, of IV5pp Dragana, me, Staša and Bajlo, of hosts Čarga, Ildika, Žuca, Ksenija, Vlada, Bajlo's brother-by-uncle, Milica, Gavra, Jozda and few more known characters. All in all same as always. The drinks were served by order of appearance - first Jozda's apricot, then our pear, and then he said there was some loza too, and despite the number of Herzegovinians around the table, nobody touched that.
The speakers... like this. Except the distributor I brought wouldn't fit. The extension we used for it now powers the left speakers, so I borrowed the one from the sewing machine (between the speakers on the picture). However, being vertical it was blocked by the outlet's lid, so I got a horizontal one from the hosts, luckily they had exactly the kind. I dialed everything to the max, but fuckit, it's barely 40 watts, theoretically, a cunt's smoke of a sound system. When nineteen people blabber around the table, only nearest four hear it.
The roast, piglet of course, was served rather early, we were still around the second shot, sacrilege to let it cool too far. It wasn't hot either, but the bread was at least fresh and received lots of praise from everyone, though „why bread when there's potatoes“ was also heard. I tried it, a pinch, well, it was well baked but it's still not a bread, it's a loaf made of dough for kifla. Don't care, I don't miss it, for the last three months I ate three slices of bread and half a somun, can do without. And the roast was excellent, just the way it should be, the skin crunchy and softens in [yer] mouth just enough so that I can handle it with this [much of] teeth. Suddenly the music was audible, just someone said „don't forget to breathe“. Then there were some žerbo (zserbó, recently known as gerbeaud) and coffee, of nothing too much, the amount was just right.
Then there was a walk. Of course I skipped it (because I give no fuck and because Jozda again enforced antismoking propaganda... though, this time I told him the joke of the same walk of 14-IX-2019.**, separately to Ildika, and she replied with the same joke as last time („...so it's all bad, every brand, don't know what to smoke now“ „only thing left is to smoke dick“ „where do I find twenty a day?“). But then after returning from it she said „I didn't smoke, here, now I'll“. And she sat next to Dragana and lit [one]. Gavra said he's not smoking at all, except when he really feels like, then buys something proper, here's a Sobranie (allegedly bulgarian, but it's macedonian black tobacco, gave me [one] to try, not bad, smacks as if when we add some of our kentucky). Said he's ashamed to scratch from others, so this.
Jozda even took my ashray and counted the butts, trying to make some point on it, so I told him „don't count, you're free to eat them all“. Then he again tried to shoot the pianist, wanted to dance a little, though not with his traditional partner Žuca, it was Ildika this time, „is there anything for dance in that music“, „yes there is, how can there be not“, „so when will it?“, „if you wait long enough, it will come by... or, if you're not loathe to, there's the playlist on the screen, just doubleclick whatever you find and there [you go]“. All the time I emitted a perfect lack of willingness to move my ass. The work on the playlist was done years ago. The music of that period, just as the photos, are out of production.
I heard an oodle of stories, specially Gavra cut himself with the hunters' tales, on ecology and in general. It was interesting, though, and we didn't even disperse too early, the sun was already rather low, got home at 18:00. In the evening we drank of our pear and went merrily to bed, around half three.
Sunday, mostly nothing at all. She stuffed peppers into jars, the big meaty red ones. The discard goes to hens („they cleaned it up all, even stems“), I scribbled here, tracked news, students carried the Constitution through Zrenjanin last night. Somehow it seems that someone from „Danas“ readsburundi, as I see that it's been days since the last time the word „kremast“ (creamy) appears in the recipe headlines, the word never existed here [„krema“ here means something you smear on skin or shoes; the actual cream of milk is called pavlaka, and pavlakast was never a word], I already offered a kilo of Orthography to anyone who'd scan the Grand people's cookbook or Pata's cookbook and find the word anywhere, in text or titles. The word originated from translation. And on the other side I see that some remarks I made on events as they happened, like Vučić's autogoals with collecting signatures for candidate lists, that with that tug, allegedly notaries weren't available and what not, he just made free advertising for the students, because the endless queues became a true street performance, seen by hundreds of thousands of people - well, at least one article came out containing these three sentences, and it was a good one. If once, maybe twenty years ago, I imained that I could have some political influence, it was by means of such fleas passing, pointing out the obvious before someone else would spot some other obvious thing, so here now I can pretend that I finally got it working, at least this little bit.
Here I have the idea that the students intentionally moved rector Đokić off [their] list just because he's the ideal presidential candidate. I'm sealing this move, I'll not pass this as a flea. We'll see.
Monday. Mild ran, weather cooled, among rasejani only ajVar quoted some character with „and today is the day of the fight against Alzheimer disease, so let's remember...“. Which inspired me to this recap of that bermudahn triangle:
Heisenberg: maybe it happened, and maybe it did not
Schrödinger: I don't know whether it happened, lemme take a look
Alzheimer: what happened, happened. I guess.
Which I posted as a reply to ajVar, then on burundi, then here, so not to go to waste.
It really cooled, chilly wind, so I finally quit that light dark blue shirt, which I wore in alternation with the shortsleeved one that still originated in the there, and switched to that sokobanjska pink and the denim jacket... which I even buttoned up, because fuckit it's fanning. The new slippers, no matter how good and comforting, didn't get used to me yet. As usual, my calf muscles got stiff, and the left foot's rim tightened up too, and it all ceased when we reached Lidl. At Roda we took our bench again, nobody anywhere, in Roda they're taking inventory (now whether it's related with Vučić's day of the flag and whatever else it was, we don't know the exact date), so no pharmacy. At least she went into Rerso and bought a dress for Tanja, size 104 this time, as the 94 she got last time already shrunk after washing. Eh, it was standard for years to have cotton garments preshrunk before sewing, to avert that. One more standard abandoned.
And still we got to Dragana right on time - Borče arrived while I was still in the bathroom. We drank our cherry, same as last time, and it went quite well, the ladies kept up the pace. All as usual, except we dumped fresh jokes right at start. And that we couldn't sidestep the elections, where I clashed seriously against Dragana, she started parotting all the bullshit that RTS (luckily she's not watching the Informer) spewed on students' list during the weekend. Seeing I can't be heard, I tried to be loud for a few moments, and then kept up the middle finger for a few minutes, to ask her is that what she'll vote for. Well no, she said, she won't even go to vote. Maybe better so.
Got home before two. The cabbie, another new guy, was delighted to hear my old story about the covert renumbering of houses in our two streets. Not that he was taking notes while I talked, but did write it down when we arrived.
Tuesday. Tanja asked to see us, so we watched her eat (she's getting more and more skilled with the spoon), and Filip too („how come I never saw Tanja smile like this when she sees the tit?“ „of you three, not one ever did that... eh, a male“). Tanja is now weaned off diapers, and does well so far. Sit's on the potty a tad longer, „I'm not finished“, but never mind, just let her acquire the habit.
Finished reading Dune, the part written by the old man. I dragged it indefinitely, paused whenever I felt like it, dragged it to now. There's two more sequels in that line, which I sort of remember, I think I even had one on paper, bought in the there. Actually, of anything the two weaklings wrote ni trilogies, I'd buy one or two parts, never the third. I know theirs is mostly bullshit, and that they had an algorithm for writing, or some proto AI which would churn recaps to fill the space, but now I feel I could go over it again, having honed my recap skipping skills.
Having slept until 11, I didn't mean to get to bed early, around two will suffice, and she went before one. And then got up, sleep wouldn't have her. And then what will[ one do], about two longer shots remained in the bottle... And then I brought the cask with the old tutifruti, with just as much in it. Until four in the morning. We didn't chew old themes much, did that last time, she remembered how Dragana annoyed her with the outburst last night. Well, I said, she has no imagination, she knows they're lying some, and can't imagine they're lying exactly all of it. And it doesn't feel like she's watching Informer, this sounds more like a roughly sanded version of it, RTS style. And how she really believes it... Well, she was always a system's pet, they always had it good, throughout the ninetythird they still had a few marks left, they bought off the apartment for some cunt's smoke of amount, here her nephew and his wife are both working in education and their salaries are mere dozen euros higher than her retirement, the sated doesn't believe the hungry. So we decided to not quite smash away our parties, just to declare electoral silence, see you in early november.
Twentythird, nothing, a lull. The magical hand says we distill tomorrow, so... She went to sleep, and I stayed to read the seventh part of Dune... Well look at that, so much stuff in it, the two aren't so bad, now that I know how to skip the retells. Though, fuckit, the reader is on the seventh book, so why would each chapter contain a reminder on previous books, this is no entertainment for the Alzheimer fan club, nor you expect that more than half of the readers will dive into this universe at exactly this point and need the infodumps. But no, this way they use more pages. Lied at two, and slept nicely under the quilt, since it got cold we had to resort to it too, we even fired up the airconditioner to heat, mere two weeks since when we still used it to cool ourselves a bit. This is somewhat sudden, except the rain, which is falling by teaspoons, everything is still so dry.
Twonnyforth, woke up at eight. She just sent me back to bed. Aha, she means to do the first still alone. I woke up again near noon, and she was at gugolj, watching something. Um. Then she told me the magical hand failed, it went weakly, two and a half liters in that one still, we'll resume on saturday. The fermentation is still not finished. In the afternoon quick and dirty grocery at Lidl and Roda. Lidl finally came to it senses, so there's fewer personnel at cash registers, because now they have fisix selfservice ones, which aren't exactly simple, what they had in Kroger 25 years ago was easier, despite being a beta version. If Roda can guarantee queues at the cash register, Lidl still can't, but it's a thursday, their fresh stuff day, right on cue. Still no maggi spice anywhere. In Lidl they again had the chestnut pureé without the taste of chestnut, they think vanilla is better. In the pharmacy no 50mg ernafil, took the 100s and will halve them like before.
Twonyfifth, nothing... she made a batch of wide noodles, I added the three utilities problem to 23-XI-1974. (and confused myself completel there, after noticing that I messed up the days in the previous text, when did we hitch and when did we take a bus, then confused myself again when transferring the corrections into the english text). And there i remembered to check on Lajna. Nothing, she's off Telegram and her email is gone. She may have tossed the spoon and we couldn't know of it.
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* there's a difference; what Amers call pancake simply doesn't (didn't) exist here; our recipe for pancake is the comon european one. And we don't call them crepes (there's krep papir, the colored paper to make stripes of for new year's decorations), we call them palačinka (hun. palacsinta, rom. placinta), the latin root of it being placenta, because it does resemble it.
** involves „to smoke“ which means both the regular (inhale smoke; to emit smoke is „pušiti se“, no pun in that sense) and also means to give a blowjob; the expression she used back then was „Jozda doesn't give me to smoke“ - give to means allow to in this context, and I didn't say then „well I'll give you“... better served cold.
Mentions: Cherries, 23-XI-1974., 14-IX-2019., Aleksa Pajkov, burundi, Dragana Vitas, eos70, fes, Filip Nastić, Gavrilo Taroški (Gavra), gugolj, Ildika , IV3, IV4, IV5pp, Jovan Zdanić (Jozda), Klincaid, Ksenija, loza, Mališa Borkovski (Borče), Melanija Merćep (Lajna), Milica Zubatović, mrz pladžer, nanovo, Nenad Bajlo (Bajlo), pekmez, rakija, rasejani, Stanoje Serdarević (Staša), statcounter.prg, Tanja Nastić, tutifruti, Velemir Prokin (Čarga), Vlada Markanić, Živana Armatović (Žuca), in serbian
18-IX-2026 - 1-X-2026