01-V-1979.

Trip with my parents, to Vršac, actually to a place the uncles had up on the hill. She was wearing her armor, i.e. the jeans dress which was still a bit stiff. The color negative we shot then never got good prints - it was short on red or it had too much green, who knows, it just kept looking weird no matter how I scanned it.

The younger uncle dug a bit of a hole for the fire, as we're at some height and there's always some breeze, so it would burn too fast if left in the open. A proper young accacia was picked for the spit, and the piglet was properly stuck on it. There's always someone dežurni to turn it. This being Vršac, there was no beer - they drink wine here. There are vineyards all around the skirts of the hill. Well that's how my grandmother got married - my grandfather was buying brandy and wine from here for his tavern. The brandy he'd buy redistilled, i.e. overly strong, so he could load more alcohol on one horse carriage, and he'd water it down to the usual 40%.

We didn't quite fit anywhere - still too young to count among the serious people, and yet too old compared with Aleksandar and the other two. But we enjoyed it all the same - the air, the food, the forest around. Took quite a walk up the valley, crossed the creek a couple of times. The older generation chatted their usual stuff, the guys taking a nap after lunch, the usual.

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Mentions: 28-VI-1979., Aleksandar Zarin, dežurni, in serbian