[JBPoqueliche]

Day 8

Sunday. It's the uncle's birthday. He rented a datcha outside of town for the day. An awesome spot with sauna, pool table, all wooden. Great stuff. We also made shashliks and they had the whole night to marinate. Was truly looking forward to it.

I did a NYE in such a house a while back in the Balkans and it was probably one of the best parties I ever had.

My blonde sent me a text, asked if she did not hurt me, as she left me claw marks on the back when she climaxed. Almost healed already.

We meet the uncle. I give him a bottle of Armenian cognac as a present while the boys gave him a hunting knife. Really cool tool. It looked like one of those Finnish hunting knifes with an eagle head as a pommel. He left it in the car boot (important element for the future)

We drive to the dacha, eat a snack then shoot some pool. Some guests came over and the men call us outside while the girls prepare the salad inside. The wind is chilling and winter is almost here.

   

Because Russia with no leather jackets is not Russia.

   

We put the veggies and skewers (as long as swords) on the mangal (open fire charcoal grill). The smell is amazing. It is soon ready.

   

We pour a shot of ice cold vodka, pour a bit on the floor for the ones that left us then give the first share of meat to the host and guests.

   

Frozen vodka like that is like honey. We drink some more and toast to the health of the uncle.

   
The meat ready, we throw a whole trout on the coals. It is quickly done and we rush inside near the heat of the hearth. The feast is ready.

I have never tasted skewers like that in my life. The company is amazing. We joke away, sing traditional songs while drinking cognac and sharing precious moments. Fuck clubs, fuck table service, fuck the bass and the bottle rats. This is where it is at.

We keep drinking then go to the sauna for 30 minutes, to sweat the booze and drink some more. We sweat heavy drops and alternate with the pool of ice cold water. Best feeling of all. Go back upstairs and repeat.

Flash forward 5 hours. My wing and I are drunk like skunks. We get too deep in our convo like everytime we get drunk. What I did not know is that a few days before his heart stopped working, his dad died. The mother saw the whole male branch of the family almost wiped out.

He stayed a few days between life and death. Doctors were pessimistic and his mom called the Orthodox priest to come to his hospital bed, to give him the unction in case he would not make it.

Then a new heart was available and he survived the transplant. Lost 20 kilos. Came back on top. Now feels like he was given a second chance and blesses every day he sees the sun.

Powerful shit.

   

We danced drunk with one of the small children of the assembly then hit the hay.