Fred, The Car Saga, and the hunt for the house Eka grew up in.

Good evening all, (morning, afternoon? Time zones suck.)

So, first, I have to apologize for not making a blog entry earlier. Things have been crazy busy. We having been building, adopting, and driving around seeing people that haven't been seen for 50 years. This, my friends, is an odd place. Lovable, quirky, but odd. Hard not to fall in love with odd. We all have.

Fred. Ohhh, Fred. Fred came to join us here at 86 Sisacka (pronounced see-satch-kah) 4 days ago, and hasn't left since. We think he may be just shy of 2 months old, as per my earlier post, Renata and her love of animals...well, here's Fred. Relaxed as a kitten can be. So happens it was about 34 degrees outside when I took this photo. We were all pretty much working, taking frequent breaks, but all felt the way Fred looks.

He's a good boy, and prefers to sleep in the woodshed. Cats are mostly outdoor animals here, but not for long if Reny gets her way. As well as the woodshed, Fred also prefers to poop in the Portulacas. A lovely stone planter filled with flowers has been destroyed, and Fred now gets his own flower box, void of anything but fresh soil, in order to do his business. He is now, officially, the most spoiled kitten in Croatia.

So again as per my earlier post, we had a deal all lined up to get our hands on a car for 'a mere pittance'. Fail. The deal fell through, and we went on the hunt. Truth be told, not much of a hunt as that we bought the first car we saw. How sick were we at that point of not having a vehicle? We bought a 1994 Ford Escort CL (semi-stationwagon I guess you could call it). Diesel, noisy, gutless, hard to look at, but seems to run well, and will for sure fit passengers and luggage. Oh, and 16 foot pieces of lumber and half of a Jysk store.

Out cruising in Osekovo, (pronounced oh-seh-ko-whoa) we went looking for the house (sorry, remains of a house long since torn down) that Eka (Reny's mom for you first time readers) grew up in. Well, lo and behold, we stopped at a street that Eka felt was familiar, and we went walking into someone's corn field looking for an old well, the one that was beside their house when Eka was a child. Having no luck, Eka walked across the street and rang a doorbell. Turns out it was a fellow she had gone to school with many many years ago. I mean MANY. In typical Croatian fashion, they didn't simply answer our  question about the possible location of the well, but took us for a tour to find it. The property is actually for sale now (hmmm) and a prime location in a quiet little village. Here's Toncek (pronounced ton-chek) and his wife after dragging out water, juice, coffee and cookies for us:

Then, off we went. Turns out that Toncek's wife knew exactly where the well was. Buried in a little clump of trees was an open well. Very cool.

We went walking through the property for about 20 minutes, and Renata and I decided the best place for our new house, horse pasture, and barn. C'mon Lotto 649. The property is partially treed, and the some of the trees are incased in the most amazing English Ivy. Beyond description, so I won't even try. Here's a photo instead:

It's noteworthy to mention that on our way to finding the well, we were driving along when we saw what was obviously a bride and groom getting photos taken on the side of the road. The best man, heavily intoxicated, flagged down our car and forced us to stop. He screamed some well wishes in Croatian, and then shoved a bottle of Kruskovac (crew-sh-ko-vitz) into my face. It is a delicious pear liquer, and very popular here. Not being in a position to insult him, I took a swig and then I drove on. As they small group passed into our rear view, it was obvious the the best man was catching hell from the new bride for his foolishness. What a country.

Now, no fooling about the hard work. I have been building the deck, and Renata has been painting and cleaning. As a woman of many talents, she also plastered the wall when a large section of it collapsed while she was painting it. In Croatia, a professioanl in his / her field (most often a trade) is referred to as a Majstor (pronounced my-store). Renata, plastering, looking great. Truly a Majstor.

After waiting the night to allow for drying, it was painted and the next room was begun and finished the same day. Ujo (pronounced ooo-yo) Stef (pronounced sh-tef) came over to help. he was a huge help, and two rooms were completed top to bottom, and the day ended with Renata painting the floor in the last room.

The next photo shows the beginnings of the deck, and the car. Also shows the garden that we have to cover in order to make sure Fred doesn't use it as a washroom. Once it gets planted, I think we may have to surround it with chicken wire to keep the little doofus at bay.

That's it for now, more photos to come. The deck is well beyond the point at which it appears in the above photo. Sidenote to folks wanting to do a 'little project' here in Hrvatska. Bring your own lumber and joist hangers. Hardware stores sell joist hangers that don't fit any of the lumber they sell. How nice. I have had to deal with twisted 6x8 beams, slapping two 1x6's together to make a 2x6, and various other craziness. Oh, and I have developed a new respect for the 'builders of old', as that I have had to use such tools as a manual drill, a hatchet to 'adjust' the size of some of the lumber, and so on.

The tale will continue. Mabe new photos of the deck tomorrow.

Take care all,

Kevin & Renata