If we hadn't been looking forward to the first day of collecting our fuel supply then certainly the second day with only our near psychopathic 1960's Zetor tractor driving neighbour as company held us with more fear.
He has a habit of gossip and uncensored chat, fortunate to me that I don't understand all or very little of what he is saying, unfortunate for Jana.
As it happened the day was smoother, and the neccesary minimal that was required to be chopped was done.
With my back temporarily displaced it was time for that rewarding refreshment but not before an opportunity to meet some friends of our neighbour, probably the most stereo-typical Slovak countryside folk we had ever come across. Like walking on the set of a 1980's Czechoslovakian comedy film, and straight after a pig-killing session too, what more could be cliched!? The bubbly-friendly large breasted woman in her pinny and not much else stole the show, a short chubby man with fluffy moustache left to do the farm chores as we spoke, father and dopey son who bizarrely thought he used to work with me, and later back from factory work a giant son who dwarfed over us even when he sat down. Home made drink passed round, as I was driving I missed this treat, it made the whole occasion very friendly.
One more day left to pull down, chainsaw and split, and then my body can relax until a return at the same time next year...