Notes of an old refiner

Frost forecast for Tuesday, so today we took away all the green tomatoes and put them in the box with newspaper under the bed, with two red ones to "teach" them. The method of my mother.

The dacha, 6 September, the day before the frost.

Lyudmila does not feel strong this autumn. She sat in the chair near the house for most of the day, with the cat. I did everything alone. But she told me where to put each box, and from the chair she controlled the whole operation like a chief engineer.

The band, the beret, the photograph of my father. The same as every year, but there were fewer old men this year and more small children with the flags. The war generation is over now, the children of the war are our age. The next in line is me. I stood a little straighter.

Dima writes me that Kündölük now accepts comments only from the people who have the Attelkom login. It is because of the spam: yesterday I counted 63 comments from the pharmacies in Europe. So now it is only for us, the locals, and for the friends who are not abroad. And I mean friends abroad can e-mail Dima, and he will tell me.

I'm not against. At the refinery we also had the gate with the pass. If somebody is serious, he will get the pass.

I will say only a little. On Sunday I did not go to the stadium. My ticket was in the drawer and Kolya called at noon: "Vitya, don't come, the mood is bad". We watched the first half on the old television at the Kotelnaya, and then it became clear, the people on the screen began to run. I walked home with my stick through the back streets.

I was a fan of "Neftyanik" from 1958, at the age of 18 I stood on the east stand with the boys of the refinery. Nobody threw anything but the sunflower husks. Something changed in the city. I do not know what to write. Maybe next time.

This week minus 22 at night. The trolleybus froze twice on the Azatlık prospect, the passengers pushed it. I did not push, I only advised from the pavement. The old people are experts.

Azatlık prospect from the trolleybus stop, minus 22.

Light and heat are stable, thank God. It is strange to write this sentence normally and not with fear, after the winter of 2009. Life improves in small portions, like a good cough syrup.