The doček in the new house. Had some guests - Rade, Gradek and their son, and Stana with her husband. Their son should have been around age ten or nine, who knows where he was. We still didn't have the thermostat, the in-floor electric heating was supposed to switch off by as soon as the thermistors show the difference between the outgoing and returning water fall below 10C. Which never happened. We tried to fiddle with the settings, but the control board was grumfed*, there were no dials or even notches, we had no idea what the system was doing. So the floor was very warm, and Lena would just follow her instincts and take her hose and pants off.
The floor was still crumbling sand from the grouting - which wasn't any proper grout, it was just cement and sand that was underneath the tiles - so the whole floor was very slippery. Rade's kid fell six times during the night. Lena didn't fall at all. In these six days she already developed the technique to walk safely on this surface. Not only that, she practiced a running skid - she'd start running from the front of the house, through the middle, and in the last four meters she'd duck and sit, and slide on her butt to the other wall, stopping just a few centimeters before the wall. Her butt was smooth and pink for that.
Don't even know what we ate and drank. I'd say we surely had some of dad's brandy, perhaps even wine, someone brought a plate of gibanica, and there probably was some roast young pork... or maybe not. This was the conclusion of the thinnest year anyone can remember.
Thirty years later we reminisced on this, and, lo and behold, she remembers what I can't. She roasted a pork shoulder, what with the skin; Gradek brought the gibanica and Stana brought a lasagna. We ate maybe half of it, not touching the gibanica much. When parting, she offered to divide the leftovers. Gradek refused, Stana took the lasagna.
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* v. Alan Ford