Sima and her Dad

"I remember that at times, a certain child-like mood and desire for mischief came over my dad. This was because the war robbed dad of his childhood. Once, when I was six or seven I sat at home drawing: a house with smoking chimney, green grass, little stream. I asked my dad to draw something. He drew a stork on a roof of the little house... with black dots falling from under his tail. A stork was doing a poo! It made me giggle and he also laughed. So I asked him to draw something else. Dad drew geese, pigs, cows... all of the beasts looked really jolly. Dad told me that once a year, in the summertime a local brewery washed their pots in the stream. The pots still had fermenting alcohol in them, it was washed downstream through their village. After drinking this alcohol-infused water all day, village animals made a terrible hullaballoo: squawking, neighing and bellowing like crazy. Afterwards they fell on the grass exhausted and passed out to sleep off the booze".