Annual meeting of rasejani, at M. in Mokrin. This time we prepared specially - I brought the sound boxes, which then weren't used at all, because nobody insisted on music. The host did play some on his Mac in the background, says it has six speakers and probably gives excellent sound when you sit at it, but it wasn't heard at all, and didn't matter, we came to talk. We also brought four freshly picked cucumbers, more than a pedalj long, one flowerpot of bolivian hot peppers, and a kilo of cherry (not cherry) brandy. I took it upstairs by error last evening, already had a liter there, and in the morning it was sitting in sunshine. Brandy should be at room temperature, um... ah yes, Joda has the cooled compartment below the sound system, the manual says it takes a bottle of wine... well, I don't speak french* so I cooled the brandy there.
It was an easy ride, relaxing, I guess that's because of that lavender. Through Kikinda I passed smoothly, because I looked at the map and remembered the route to the hospital from back in the early nineties when it was our customer, and it's exactly at the hospital that I had to make the only turn in Kikinda.
Almost everybody was there already - Škrba with missus, Kunta (solo, in his gray saxo with only three doors, the poor devil), Zlotvor with missus and son and ajVar. Twenty minutes after us pLazić and Stinge arrived. Zlotvor roasted them hot wings again, not on a talandara this time, just a barbecue. There was nothing in the kettle, just Škrba picked 120 ćevapčići from the Fićok brzožder by the hospital (which was my landmark as to where to turn on the way back).
(... 89 words...)
The talk went zigzag and diagonally, usually in two separate threads at each end of the table. About today's cars, of how there's no chance that this type of electric music would have fans here, they haven't even begun to build the infrastructure. Yet M. said that in Slovenia you already can't buy a car that isn't at least half electric. Soon it flowed into business waters, about users, old apps, software archaeology. Someone remembered slovima, and pLazić asked for a fresh copy, because he wanted to translate it into some current language.
Stinge specially had an interesting adventure to tell, how his businessman boss almost smuggled him into Germany by the end of 1992, which almost worked. There's a bank on the border with exits to both german and czech side, so he just walked through it, all blase, and it would have gone smoothly had the customs not started a job on his boss - frisked him, searched the car, the works - so his loitering on the parking was soon noticed by some young hotshot who imagined he just caught a dangerous terrorist... and that's where it becomes interesting. Of course, the punchline was „and then I told him, in my best german... and only then it dawned on him that I understood everything he said in the last hour“.
Afterwards we had some cake, and a neighbor brought sweet boiled corn on the cob. Kunta had to leave early („my job is such that we live on having contacts, knowing people... and a rookie asked me where do I find them, said on funerals, as they don't make too many weddings these years and even then I'm mostly not invited... and I also have to read obituaries to remove the deceased from my phone, so not to call by accident“), his job doesn't turn off on sundays.
On the way back we ordered two burgers at Bob's, pulled over a dozen kilometers in advance to make the call, for Raja and Violet. Hit the hay at 22:00, couldn't stay up any longer. Watched the leftover 20 minutes of fourth season of Expanse's seezen fennelley, tried to read the comments on it, to check on details I missed, but nope, no go, the letters are running away in front of my eyes. Slept until seven, in one go, which is good - when I go so early, the sleep is usually a two-parter. Used to be. BTW, I took a peek at Voyeur aka Voyager, just to check whether it was really done in such shitty subdued colors as UPN ran it (v. 26-XI-1999.) and nope, they aren't, it's all merry. It was de rigeur at the time to reduce colors, so nobody would think we got our first color gear yesterday and can't get enough, we don't want to look garish. Just like how it was here in 1976, when people started getting their first colorsters, and watched everything paled down.
As for cats, we're down to five and a half: Rundek comes to eat, doesn't stay in the backyard, sometimes sleeps in front of the house. Džimi is the matriarch. Of five Zelena's kittens, three remained: Waffle, Pancake and Leppard. All four of Džimi's are gone. Zelena herself comes and goes, mostly absent. And, ah, yes, Dženifer in Čankovo, still waiting for us at the gate and going with us everywhere, saw her the next day (24th), purrs and kneads the concrete.
There wasn't much damage from the storms, some tobacco stalks are bent but already growing side branches, and one chair leaned against the coffee table. The roof intact. Seems there was a good rain, the barrel is full of rainwater. She picked a bag of blackberries again. Combined with figs at home, will make pekmez again.
On twonnyforth everything as scheduled - Lena called when her bus was at Stajićevo, I saw her off the bus from Lidl's parking [lot], and slowly drove to Njujork. We arrived with half an hour to spare, so we sat for a coffee across from the notaroš (officially a notary public, everybody says notar, but I'm an old Lala, so notaroš it is), and around half coffee there they come. I waved, they saw me, came over. Took a shot of them together, finished the coffee, the girls went up to register the deal, and we boys sat on a bench in the passage. Just a fine breeze through it. The building is one of these newer, gray ones. First there a Chinese had a shop, fishing and hunting gear, then there was another shop, and now there's a cafe (presently closed). Meanwhile two floors were added and all the upstairs turned into apartments or offices.
Paperwork took an hour and a bit. We talked it through, and I heard a lot. For a new well now it takes a permit and a meter (costs 70000!) and then you pay what you use, because, there, you're pulling the common water. So the ownership of the land doesn't extend above and below like it used to. Half of Lalinski now has a chicken farm, with around 50000 birds a batch, just like they had 30 years ago when klaanca took care about its supply base. And it's currently undergoing the seventh bankruptcy process, where each owner or lender took some of the hardware to sell to cut the loss. They even sold the truck scale from the cattle entrance, just cut it out from the concrete, dismantled and took away. Now it's down to bare walls and weeds. The gray buildings like this one are multiplying in Njujork, it's still being built, despite almost no economy. Some fifty people travel to work at Dräxlmeier in Zrenjanin.
Told me how he used to work on a site in Belgrade, construction I guess, and once hitched a ride with some guy whom he barely knew. The next day cops come to his place, search, because this guy was a dealer. „What were you doing in his car?“ „Riding to work“ „And what is this here?“ „Tobacco“ „Ha, untaxed contraband!“ „I can always legally have one kilo for my own use, and besides what you are smoking is also contraband from the green market“. The conversation abruptly stopped and the cops left.
When the paperwork was done, the keys and money changed hands, we drove to Lalinski to see how it looks now and to shoot a farewell series of shots. They put the summer kitchen and the adjoining room in order, her son sleeps there already. There's water - they put a faucet where the old tankless heater was - there's gas, and for electricity they ran a cable from the main house. There was a cable already, actually done twice and each of those broke somewhere. So they have a kitchen and one room done, and have cleaned out the whole front yard, street, and first few meters of the middle yard. Now for the rest, one thing at a time, when it permits. Parted friendly, promised to come by next year.
Then on the way back Lena told me what a chaos they are. He's 34, she's 45, both have children from before, six or seven altogether. His ex got the kids at divorce, but then they're in foster homes because she was a case, now whether it was powdering the nose or something venal or whatever, didn't say and doesn't matter. Now that he has the house, he'll try to make a case to get the kids back. Except... he took a loan from the bank and the contract (and thus all paperwork, including cadaster) is on her. But not our matter anymore, they seem willing and eager to get it done right, they'll make a life there. They already put up an internet connection.
The next day we took Linda and Sanda to Čankovo, to see Dženifer. We did nothing, just picked some figs and blackberries (and of course, on friday 28th she made another batch of chutney, why waste). They had a good time, running around, playing with the cat, and the cat was happy that her personnel comes by so often. In the evening she hit the hay early on, and I stayed to finish the last four of the fifth season. The four are so connected, watching them end to end feels just right.
These days we finally started selling stuff from the house, have only hamstered so far. Carp's ex works at the butchery, we know each other from back then, and needed a child't seat for the bike, being a grandmother now. Had one extra - as Sanda mostly rides with me and Linda with granma, my hands are longer and handlebars taller so I can still manage to hold it with a front seat; she can't, so we got her a rear seat this (or last?) spring, so the front one lay unused. And now Radoslav bought both old bicycles from us, lump sum 2500 dindža, and I see his putting them in order and drivable shape. And it all began on 21-V-2023., with that gas bottle to that brzožder lady (v. house dictionary). From whom we bought less than three times since. I mean, you can grill it on gas, okay, you aren't a gourmet, you're a fastmunch. You can play turbofolk, even so that one can't go down the street without hearing it, okay, you can't do that once, I forgive but don't forget (obviously proven here). But to douse the ćevapčići with plant oil, that's sacrilege. And now there's another one, two kiosks left, likewise an experienced lady who worked in dozen places and goes solo now, who seems to not muck around. Her grill is electric, okay, not everyone goes for charcoal inferno like at Bob's, but has no oil, just meat, and bakes her own somuns**, says she trusts nobody, what she does herself she knows was done. Okay, she gave them a try, two pljeskavica of 200g for Raja and Violet, who were just happy with it. We'll see in the long run.
BTW, at Bob's we usually buy that on the way back from the garden, and most of the time we take a large one for Raja and sometimes Nina (when she's not on a diet), and medium (so 200g instead of 250) for the rest. Last time she was just curious and put them on the scale, to check, what with their somuns. The difference should be 50g raw, around 40g roast. It was 12. Then measured two mediums next time, and the difference was even larger :). It's not that we were waiting for the prices to jump (the medium used to cost 300 and large 330, now medium is 330 - just like it was at Vanja's by the cemetery since december), we just went for medium two weeks ahead of that.
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* I got two versions of the manual, both in english :)
* flatbread, bosnian style; originally was pizza sized, the first time I tried it in Sarajevo, now it's like a hollow lepinja