On Monday, the first spring morning, when the Fog is not yet subsided, and the autumn sun przegoniło not impatient cold, I went to my tailor. Actually anything from him I did not need and can not remember why I ran to his workshop in the Old Town, with Szewska. Shoemaker greeted me, as always, politely, but I noticed that, despite the cold and misty morning, it is a strangely serene and dreamy.
- Went to the Lord, Sir Arthur, a weekend, I see.
Shoemaker looked at me and smiled a bit surprised to suddenly scattered his thoughts.
- dear Lord, I see you anywhere in a hurry, if you have time for such observations. Customers in such a chill has not yet come. Feel free to counter, just coffee brewing, I was a little bit of dough. No please, no krępacji!
Rozsiedliśmy zydlach the shoemaker, the uprzątniętym hastily smoked glass table in Turkish coffee, cake turned out to be homemade, with apples, sprinkled with powdered sugar, plump, but not fluffy like dymane bread. It was not too sweet, but is weak or not melted in the mouth. Surely it could not have anywhere else to buy. Only an experienced housewife can bake a cake. And it's only for a loved one. Not in order.
- That you apprehensive that tempts me to tell him how I went down the latter, so sunny and warm Saturday.
just swallowed a big mouthful of Home appliances poem, so I just nodded eagerly and pushed a bit stool to the wall to resist the comfortable.
- A few days a bit of something - he began a shoemaker, a little caution when you drank more coffee too hot - the worst was last Friday. I will not talk about it .. whatever ... You have an eye! Let go. Saturday was a salutary, if the Sorrowful mysteries, come to me .. The Joyful Mysteries
- You know, I go horse riding ..
- Lord! - Could not stand and almost spilled coffee.
smiled indulgently, I do nieurażony.
- You sometimes wonder ... You know, my daughter was very fierce at the horses, that's what I had to stand behind the fence and przestępować from foot to foot? I preferred to ride with her. Now she's an adult and lives far away, we can ride together. An instructor, not even when I took it personally, she said that horseback riding can be practiced into old age, provided the overall efficiency. I try to be the overall efficiency and ride. My, my son is starting to worry. Some old actors still falling in newspapers and on TV, seriously pound, no, and I begin my wygadywać. You know ...
- On Friday, so I took that I announced my: if you with me on the horses do not go, then stop to it speak. First tried with me in his own way, but I insisted. I arranged with his old instructor, who started on their own account and wanted to arrange a stable visit her. But somehow not embarrassing yourself ...
- Saturday got up an entirely different, yet cool morning, but the sun, the sky, I promise it will be more fun ...
- For the stable far, oh far, at Skierniewice, and we beyond the Vistula, from the eastern shore, it will be nearly a hundred miles. With a two hour drive. For me, what is there. But my kobita that's just going on a trip. It scared all the time, so she does not linger. Indeed, how would take me somewhere in their affairs, I might turn and began to nose. Entertained her conversation, to give her something of my mood. Along the way, we passed around, which could cut off the memorial, and somehow we got chatting. My scrap heap was also without a hitch, even quieter than usual walk. Or maybe not pushing him, as it sometimes can.
- We arrive, beautiful surroundings, the remnants of pine forest Mariańska, barn near the woods but still in ruins, site, dug. Kobita significantly silent, where have you brought me, two hours drive ...
- Nothing. It turns out that no one besides me will not, so I ride the individual. Maggie offers her instructor concert. I have been practicing different gaits and pace, bending outwards, kawaletki, collected trot, canter with flying leaders. Finally, a small jump with handicaps, legs and change direction with a tight bend. I look up, and here my my digital camera pictures I'm starting to do, curious. Gretel talking to myself in the best friendly terms, a little bit of me in jest.
- After driving Gretel serving coffee with cake. We sit on the air, shelter from the sun rozdokazywanym already quite under Sosenka - galaczkiem. Gretel, lit like Christmas candle, make plans to organize his stable. A lot of kids from the area commute. The dough was indeed buy it, but it is these kids were importing Gretel. How thou hast fallen - a riding habit. And existing customers even recover from Warsaw.
- For me it's too far, but I'm glad that someone in Skierniewice where he will ride the horse.
- Troubles with the construction is missing, workers are ... you know, even a company with traditions of the 19th century also sent nygusów and I have to be said for the hearing.
- Well an hour on the chat we fall over, and even his wife had plans for Saturday. We agreed to meet with his son and his family (2 +2, as they say) of Humanities at the dinner, then to the brother of Narew fall. Visit unannounced. Such best. Maybe this is the last opportunity for such weather. But where this Pultusk, again on the east bank of the Vistula River, more than 120 km of Leszno. And after the first.
- Let's go, the mood there as I would with twenty pairs of shoes sold. But the wife a little regret that we in this weather so much time that we spend rzęchu, that I immediately had to go to Monterey. Nothing I talk, because I see that the plan we came out a little bitter. In Żyrardów stoppers, in Blonie even greater. In Nowy Dwor slip into error, because the GPS does not have apparently memorized the tour. Or I do not have a new map. Comes third. Once we almost zrzedły mines, saves us our crown refused while driving. During the long runs are often lacking in the common prayer.
- Last one such szoferaka of America met on the Internet, he himself on the broad road to Old Town Square, a prayer recited. That we are not so dark, people that we came up with it themselves?
- Pultusk. In the market crowd, the police are not allowed, we somehow hungry, we eat at the bar on the corner. Prices are as at the bar, they feed better than those premises next door, you know, and here four times this price.
- I order the pork loin with almonds. Associate you? Do not know if you have it in the next tab. In Pultusk for the nine fifty with Jarzynka to choose from. We are waiting for the son of the family. I go out to them on the market that their tow. She gets off some skwaszony unless the poprztykali. Barely got out, begins to complain that the EU looks from every window, where they will not come.
- Because the event the EU market. Arrived in the French city mayor's sister. He was talking something in French, but explained that he admires the Poles. Katyn, war, heroism, etc. A market on the other side is the house where Napoleon spent the night on his way to Moscow. It's even regained a blowjob lesson that Poles have always been faithful friends. I have not betrayed the struggle. Son told me that he read in Łysiak as the only branch Kapral, who retreated from Russia in order, and even partisans Kutuzov afraid of their catch, a former Polish troops. And even Francuziki przebierały in our uniforms to deter. And how they ever learn? Do Łysiak translate into French? Do not you know? Anyway, what I Francuzy, our sages also such things do not know, spin some moronic scene with the officer - poorest of the poor, reaching the blizzard with a cane - a sword. I am so I remembered the scene all his life. As a thorn in the heart. It was not until my boyfriend took me to him.
- Maybe it's too expensive for us this lesson cost the Frenchman, but who knows, it may well pay for it yourself?
- So the son said, that today I have a good sense of humor and how I break it, get on the head. Margać wanted something that he thought it was me he could say such things, but I saw my eye and forgive.
- I told him again that it recently had malkontenctwa enough that my ears go, especially the "sacred" right-wing and our family, oszołomskie too, so today I want to see the bright side of the moon. I see that he looks at me suspiciously, but the button has evaded me. They ate, and I and his grandson, watched a parade of Harley, who came from all over Polish. Niemożebny noise was a kid nearly jumped out of the skin.
- And even then the priest blessed the harleyowców. With the Frenchman! Everyone has such a parade, on what you deserved. Let him see. It is also included in the price, so already it's better.
- Let's go over to the brother Narew. Now, in a convoy. My rzęch and charakterna roadster, passed has a little bit and capricious, as the English lord's aunt, but accommodate a family of four and the square in the camp, including a two-seat stroller. We arrive. A brother sits with wife XD, sister-in-law, on this Narew. On a hill overlooking the River. Pearl Mazovia. It's late, after the fifth, but still a stroll meadow overlooking the other side. Unexpected visit. And they, by their nawiedzili Three Kings. So glad.
- fish just-in-law framed, the sister of them right away offered, in order for something prepared the grandchildren. When you ate fish straight from Narwia? I mortgaged table fish-in-law many years ago, zięciowi from the city. Then I remembered the taste of fish with clean water. In childhood, in the Owl Mountains, where the hiding, the school friend he caught trout in the stream by hand under stones. He lived on the same protein, with bare feet could fly home for a catch. I once asked me after school. Never after something so heavenly I had in my mouth.
- None Hiltony, Japanese, Chinese restaurants, not to mention the U.S. can not. Fresh oysters taste at how poorly prepared jelly legs. You have lemons! Lemons, You think? It is elegant, France. A roast in the fireplace, on a baking tray with butter, salt trout do not think even you must add. And even you will not notice. In Narew trout is not, but even szwagrowskie hurdles will be given to trout in the old Polish roadside huts.
- posiedzieliśmy Well, sister in law brewed tea and cakes nakroiła. Nieboga, for the whole week you and your napiekła, but said that after no time, I would still napiecze. And half way prodiża, what is left, we gave. Why, no flour, and apple orchards still fall. A cake - yummy!
- Oh, what, a little left. How the taste? Maybe guv, eat another piece?
I did not find adequate words to thank you for refreshments and an old story about the last summer Saturday. It got late. Rozgoniło autumn sun mist and coolness. There was a customer. Shoemaker motioned me apologetically and returned to his shoemaking classes. But I woke up with a brilliant sleep and came to his senses.
need to go back to reality. Reality? And that is what it was? Old in the head is confused, maybe you were just a dream. Can ever sat at home with the baba, naburmuszony, after I saw him Friday, as the hail cloud. I wanted to be just so proud.
Horses? Frenchman of Humanities, Harley? Pork loin with almonds in the bar on the corner? Cake? No, I no longer overdone. Not take me! Well yes, but really delicious cake. Cakes are not invented. Well, how would know about these guerrillas?
By the way, Monday is my first ... And this freak!
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