Last summer I worked a week in a remote location. A place isolated chose specifically, at the same time and to rest in silence, unload. Fortunately, of all the neighbors on the street, there was only one family on the right. I did not bother anyone throughout the week, in the afternoon I sat with a note on the veranda and quietly crafted myself on various projects, in the evenings dreamingly pulled a whisker on the balcony, enjoying the loneliness, the country silence, the shell of the forest and the birds. But the housewife of the neighboring country decided to arrange a Sabbat girl. Not just a sabotage! A bunch of ladies arrived, everyone was forced around by cars, chats, or, gogots, music grimmed so that in a house with closed windows, the head was pierced through. I went for a walk, I come back after midnight - the show is in the midst. Very polite asked to behave quieter, or at least to transfer the fun to the other half of their country, outside the house. The drunk hostess sent me amusingly, stating, "at my country with my girlfriends, I want to do that and I do not make a decree."

Ok to Ok.

I’m not going to argue with my wife, right?

I calmly went on to walk. Night walks have their charm. In the morning, at 6 o’clock, the goulens were drunk, squeezed, and fell to sleep right in the pavilion and on the lawn, they could not get to the house.

And I remembered that we should cut the lawn, we so agreed with the tenant.

He opened the sarai, got his beautiful Honda, filled it and let us bring the beauty.

Can you imagine what sounds a dog-size gasoline grinder makes at 6 a.m.?

Oh, how did they beg for the fence to stop. They asked, even cried, shouted, threatened, mocked, promised that their husbands would come to me now for a breakup, even tried to climb to me to fight, but drunken didn't work, the ladies were very upset.

And I cut. Until nine in the morning.