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Straight from the quilt, we jumped into the trick shirt. There is no more spring or autumn, only winter, only summer...

* * *

The political scene in Montenegro is so "shrouded and muddled" that whatever a man says, he will resent some people he doesn't want to argue with.

One thing, however, I know: whoever messes up August 30, 2020, I will try not to forget it, at least as much as Šehović and the cypress group.

And the polling station won't look at me anymore.

* * *

Blessed are the people who have no dilemma as to whether what they represent is true. I am referring to those who speak with their heart and soul, not out of self-interest and butt. Perhaps because their thoughts are clear, they seem somehow healthy, always fresh.

To me, everything is confused, with a thousand "pros and cons", I doubt everything, nothing is eternal and true to the end. And I have the feeling that that worm from my mind is also crawling through my body.

* * *

In the stories of Russian classics, the image of the main character traveling through a blizzard is often repeated, and when he is running out of strength, he sees a car by the side of the road. We can almost feel his joy when he closes the front door and the darkness and the terrible howl of the wind are replaced by the silence of the lighted, warm car, with only a few tipsy guests, who disinterestedly raise their heads to examine the newcomer and continue to curse.

For a while now, I feel the same way when I close the door to our apartment. And I'm looking for more and more reasons not to get out of it.

* * *

When I asked Nadja, who is taking exams online, from home, at the Master's studies at the Faculty of Economics in Ljubljana: Have you prepared the "guns"? - she looked at me in such amazement that I turned everything into a joke.

Then I remembered the fall of 1977 in Belgrade and realized that my youngest daughter was right once again.

I took a colloquium in Roman law with Dr. Dragomir Stojčević, a textbook writer. The gray-haired professor, who taught our group the exercises, seemed to me to be close to 80 years old. I thought: I'll be easy with him. I got in the first row, propped up two chairs at the end of the classroom so he couldn't get to the other side and, while I was copying, followed him with the tail of my left eye. The professor was scurrying all the time and returning to the chair. At one point, he lingered a little longer, and just as I was about to close the book that was on my knees, I heard his voice over my right shoulder: "You are not deceiving me, colleague, but yourself!"

Old Stojčević, I was told later, easily as a young man, jumped over those two chairs and made a circle. He said it so loudly that everyone stopped writing, and I felt like someone had handed me a bucket of Mr. on the head.

I am grateful to Professor Stojčević for my entire life, not only because he allowed me to take the exam in Roman law in April 1978, but also because all these years the memory of that bucket, for the most part, prevented me from making something similar, smaller or bigger. foul.

* * *

Neda retired.

With her spiritual, gentle face, she was the trademark of the "Blažo Jokov Orlandić" Elementary School. She spent her entire working life there as a "hygienist", ever since she came to Bar from Mljet, on the wings of love for her man.

She always greeted me in the hall with a smile and a question: "Did you come for instructions?"

"I did," and we'd both laugh.

I will miss that question, but the fact is, I will still come to my wife's school "for instructions"...

* * *

The third, amended and supplemented edition of the iconic chess book, authored by Professor Maksim Lutovac, "Chess Wreath", has been published.

With his disheveled style, but also skilfully nuanced and affected words, extracted from some ancient, forgotten treasury, which below like the most beautiful, golden embroidery, Maxim succeeded in this book to revive the chess pieces, to let them go down the 600 and a half pages and win forever numerous readers, not only from the world of chess. Because even young people who are interested in chess as much as last year's snow have a rare opportunity to learn something from Maksim Lutovac and his healing notes about life related to chess, even in a break between two bites of fast food. He made the dry tables and parties, with lively anecdotes and verses of unsurpassed Montenegrin lyricists Les and Vito, as fluid and fresh as if they were streams in his Dapsići.

Professor Lutovac turned 85 at the beginning of May. He belongs to the world of chess since childhood and is still active in quick five-minute games!