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A memory of my grandfather

My grandfather was a Balkan man. He was well known in the whole city of Kotel and its surroundings. He was known as a hunter, a hot-tempered and strong man who most of all loved his horse. And the horse itself, I remember, it was beautiful, brown and only one of its legs down near the hoof was the colour white. We joked on its behalf that he had lost his other three socks. Its name was Angel. Although he was as hot-tempered as my grandfather, unsubmissive and lacked Angel’s temper. My grandmother was from the plain land region. They met accidentally and she fell in love with the crazy Balkan man. Back then she didn’t remember much of the family stories but my grandfather told me about his „averies“ this is how they called their friends who used to leave at the last days of Autumn with the numerous herds towards Dobrudza. To spend the winter there. And what did they tell us when they got back – I asked my grandfather. Well most of them did not return – he said. This was how it happened since the years of his grandfather. The men went down from the Balkan towards the flat land of Dobrudza. And many times they decided to remain there. They created their homes there, gave birth to children and...
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