Petrovac buying powder

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Petrovac buying powder

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Petrovac buying powder

As an elementary school student, I had high expectations for School Day, national and other holidays, and various festivities. And I was regularly disappointed afterwards, nothing happened the way I imagined and what I dreamed about - I played poorly in the basketball game, 'she' wasn't even in the audience, someone else was called to recite, etc. I haven't had any expectations from the holidays for a long time - I just want to get together as a family, that we are all healthy and that our batteries last until the next meeting However, when I think about it a little more - it's not quite like that - I had some expectations. Almost nothing works in our country because we are not consistent in anything and everything is short-lived. Many important projects, for the good of all, quickly died. There is a crazy rush on our roads again. That's for nothing:. This time there was no 'Firecracker' police action either. I myself, in earlier years, propagated that action over the airwaves of Radio Bar, since it produced results. This New Year's detonations also dispelled the thought of walking to Vladimir Square and Kosara, where a reception was organized, along with Legends and Galija. The bursting of firecrackers always reminds me that, in fact, we are not protected from anything What kind of houses were built there! In those years, Petrovac smelled of the open sea, peace and satisfaction with life. Now it smells like Euro and nothing else. There has long been a secret connection between me and the Bar sailors. Since the time when one of them, passing by us, mulattos, threw a full handful of crumpled, paper dinars on our marbles, 'to buy sweets'. We admired them, because they were cavaliers, bohemians, had the most beautiful wives and were always in the mood for a joke and a story. The sailors from 'Svetog Stefan', the most famous ship of 'Prekookeanske plovidba', had a special status. That ferry, which sailed for decades on the route Bar - Bari - Bar, was our window to the world, our west in the east. The 'connection' at 'Sveti Stefan' meant that you could be the first to get 'Levi Strauss' jeans, 'Vietnamese' green jacket, 'adidas' sneakers, 'a la Popeye' t-shirt, 'Brooklyn' chewing gum, 'Toblerone' chocolate and yes you smell of pine forest, of 'pino silvestre'. Only when they imposed sanctions on us did we realize what Bari, Corso Kavour, and Nikola, where we exchanged dinars for liras, meant to us. After that, nothing was the same At that time, there were no better ambassadors of Bar in the world than Bar sailors. They were known to be reliable, professional and loyal. And now I know that this blog is read with the most sympathy by them, the Bar sailors, in some far away port, on a foreign ship, in a small cabin, with a laptop in hand and a picture of their family on the screen As time passes, some of my father's predictions are more and more confirmed. He respected the Germans and was afraid of them from the time he was imprisoned in Osnabrik. He said that they are a hard-working and disciplined people, but that they need a little time to become dangerously proud again. My father, sometime in the middle of , as a 'freeman', was digging potatoes in the field of a German family, with Amanda, the landlady of about 60 years old, when an 'SS' officer approached them. He kissed the woman and went into the house, and she continued to dust. The father was surprised when she told him that it was her eldest son Walter, whom she had not seen for two years and who had just arrived from Yugoslavia. In the fact that Germany would quickly recover from the horrors of war and the scourge of fascism, my father was even more sure two months later when he went to get his tooth fixed with a guard and an interpreter. The dentist was over two meters tall and weighed more than kilograms. He asked the interpreter where the patient was from. Then, more to himself, but so that everyone could hear him, especially his sister who was helping him, he said: 'How long are we going to war with these white-world chifuts? With that tooth, my father also went to Gvozden Brijeg, 55 years later. I bought New Year's 'Politics', three issues. And I haven't read it yet because there were a lot of good texts. But, I love the holiday 'Politics' the most because of the 'Kroz Beograd' section. Bonus video:.

Petrovac buying powder