And The Birds Keep Flying
I woke up at 5:10AM today comfortably warm in my bed and not wanting to leave. By 7AM I was at work, and by 9AM I was in the van heading back home, listening to Duke Ellington's The Single Petal of a Rose from 1976.
The view was pretty, birds and greenery and streams, old abandoned villas and faltering factories. The town we shot at was called 'King's Court', which is what it used to be in the Medieval times, a hunting ground made for a royal, now reduced to black rubber factory dust and decay.
He's gone and my heart's sunk like never before.
We looked through the urns, pointing at some and laughing at how terrible they all look. I ended up finding a simple ceramic brown one which we then picked.
The funeral parlour lady's husband died only 2 months ago, a fact which she said as a piece of advice to me when I asked if I can see Děda before he gets cremated. "I saw my mother like that and wish I didn't, don't wish it on anyone." We plan to travel with his urn by car all the way to Belgrade and spread his ashes where the Danube river crosses with Sava. It all sounds like a Jafar Panahi road trip film to me.
After the parlour, me and Bibi went to get ice cream and Czech-made socks as presents. I also splurged on a big blue Freitag bag (to commemorate my grandad's death?), as I suddenly felt a deep deep urge to spend money.
I then spent the evening making strawberry & apricot dumplings for someone I don't like. For ther apricot ones, I cut the apricot up, removed the pit and put a teaspoon of brown sugar inside before wrapping in the batter, which was made out of quark cheese, flour and eggs. I then watched the dumplings bubble in the water until they floated up to the surface. I'll never make them for you either.
I ended my day with Bibi putting butterfly shaped plasters on my back.
The birds keep on flying, and I'll keep on living, in light of your name that rolls and cuts your tongue in one long stroke. I hope I'll make you proud when I surround myself with people I love and love me back. I'll always walk with you along the lake holding your hand, and scoff down blueberry dumplings and Svickova while you happily watch me, and your laugh echoes through the restaurant.
Volim te