LIMOUSINE FOR FREEEADING 12
QUO VADIS SAXIS
Once last year I was rummaging something under the Husbil. Suddenly I’m accosted by a woman, about my age, let’s say, and being asked if I’m selling it. I replied to this strangely smiling lady that if I wanted to sell it, I would probably put a visible ad. Then she from the other hand, so to speak, would I not want to buy another, because she also has a Pilote (body type) and for some reason doesn’t want to put up an ad in the net. I said why doesn’t her husband take care of it, and she said, he died and that’s why. So, I said rather not, at most I could come and look at it and perhaps advise something. If it’s in good condition, then maybe some friend would buy it quickly. I persuaded Żuria and we went.
Diesel turbo, but for me the volume doesn’t compensate for the power. Flap from the engine dangerously installed for the window glass. The bodywork is not all there either. Initial and subsequent inspection revealed a great deal of defects inside. Nothing worked, the stench from the mash hidden under the couch was causing wood rot. Zurka began to seal the holes on the outside with her favorite rubber. I said to the woman to go inside then I’ll tell what I found, and she replied she will not, because she has too many memories, and her husband bought it for a penny supposedly. Oh, gosh, you gorgon. Well, I told her what and how, but I felt like I was hurting her, such faces she played. Another would have thanked me, offered coffee, etc. And here’s nothing. Okay, we wrapped up and drove off. Later she hooked me up again at parking, saying that some guy came right away with a caravan transport, mean was determined and bought for 35K. Such a Polishita pleased with the luck. He overpaid terribly. I wouldn’t have given 25. So much work to do, I wouldn’t want to do it anymore. Too noisy engine and so on. Too stinky.
I will miss camper rallies and car picnics in Poland a bit. Mainly because of the nice, friendly people who sometimes turn out to be the only ones and undertake to help simply, out of knowledge of the subject, out of sympathy. Like Tomek, for example. Spec electrician who dismantled completely unnecessary old parts. Last year we were, as usual, at several such rallies in Warsaw, and then I bought a large collection of quite rare pre-war books on social economy at the “Warsaw Antiquarian”. And when we managed to organize one camper rally in Zamość combined with a book sale, the “Zamość Library” came out to meet the visitors and offered to sell used books such as copies on the history of cars, which of course I purchased. Since then, I have bought only two books just before I left for my trip in Europe ’24 at the antique shop “A” at Ark. The beautiful leather-bound editions were Maria Cieślak’s “Memoirs of a Zamość High School Student 1941-50” and Bogumiła Sawa’s: “Girls in Aprons…”. Always SAWA at the END. The word Sawa ruled my life and I’ll tell the story later. How to say… All in good time. And it wasn’t until I was wandering around Amsterdam that I found several books on a public shelf worth taking, including “Zicht op de toeomst” by futurologists Rudolf and Robbert Das about techno visions of the future with 250 illustrations.
Weronica Bloch Żuria was the greatest friend I’ve ever had, and all the photos with my participation (except for the period of Rasta, Tomasz Kempa) are by her. The funny thing is that one of Vera’s faculties is actually library science. Wera loves the earth and the earth loves her too. She also loves taking pictures of everything green and what’s on her plate and more. She can plant anything and anywhere and it always grows. For me, of course, this unusual element is completely understandable. My mother, who also loves the earth also appreciated it a lot, which I feel was quite unusual. I think Żuria found the best recipe for youth. She knows everything about nutrition, safe and unsafe products and ingredients. I myself treated her a bit like my own daughter. But children need to go into the world to start making their own way. Zhuria a.k.a. Gienia Maluchson can eat more than I can, which has always amused me immensely and I hope will always remain a mystery.
