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Part One:




                       nce upon a time, in a distant era when the world was still shrouded in mystery and adventure, my grandfather's family embarked on a journey that would forever shape their destiny. They set forth from their humble beginnings and arrived in a quaint village nestled amidst the enchanting landscapes of Eastern Europe, a place called Borinov. As they settled into their new home, my ancestors breathed life into the village, weaving their dreams into the very fabric of its existence. With determination and unwavering resolve, they cultivated the land and established a thriving cattle farm. Their passion for the land and their relentless pursuit of excellence transformed them into prosperous landowners. In addition to their agricultural endeavors, my grandfather's family recognized the potential in the art of brickmaking. They harnessed their entrepreneurial spirit and established a factory, where the skilled hands of craftsmen shaped clay into sturdy, reliable bricks. The village now had a vital source of construction materials, and the community's growth was inexorably intertwined with the success of the family's enterprise.

Moravia is where we are...



                        s the years went by, Borinov blossomed into a prosperous haven, largely thanks to the dedication and vision of my grandfather's family. They became pillars of the community, revered and respected by all who resided there. The villagers looked up to them not only for their material wealth but also for their generosity, humility, and genuine care for the welfare of those around them. In the year 1926, a momentous occasion graced the family's heritage. It was the birth of my grandfather, a precious gift whose arrival would further cement their bond with the village. From a young age, my grandfather imbibed the tales of his family's pioneering spirit, stories of perseverance and unity that had shaped their remarkable journey. Growing up amidst the picturesque landscapes and close-knit community, my grandfather witnessed firsthand the extraordinary growth and harmony fostered by his family's endeavors. The villagers affectionately regarded him as a symbol of hope and promise for the future, a torchbearer of the family's legacy. As my grandfather matured, so did the world around him. Turbulent times swept through the region, and the village faced its fair share of trials and tribulations. Yet, amidst the chaos, the people of Borinov clung to the indomitable spirit that had been instilled in them by generations past.


Part Two:


From the East

         n the aftermath of the cataclysmic Second World War, when the planet was trying to heal its wounds, darkness loomed over the horizon, threatening to engulf the lands of Moravia in the Czech Republic. It was the year 1968 when an insidious force emerged from the East, shrouded in malevolence and a hunger for power. My grandfather's family, having endured the ravages of war, sought solace in their homeland of Moravia. They had hoped for a peaceful existence, a chance to rebuild their lives and heal the scars that marred their spirits. But fate had different plans, as the tendrils of evil reached out to snatch away the remnants of their happiness. The forces from the East, driven by an insatiable thirst for control, descended upon the land, claiming everything in their path. With cold hearts and merciless intentions, they seized the land and homestead that had been the sanctuary for my grandfather's family. The warmth and familiarity that once resided within those walls were replaced by a chilling void, a testament to the cruelty that now held sway. Tragedy struck the family, but the details remained shrouded in mystery. The whispers that fluttered through the village spoke of harrowing separations, of loved ones torn apart, their lives forever altered by the malevolent hand that had robbed them of their peace. The family's once unbreakable bond now stretched thin, frayed by the weight of unspeakable loss and despair.


Part Three:


           ears past and Grandfather now having family of his own felt an inner pull to be close to the area  he once grew up. He found a place close to Borinov, In the picturesque countryside of North Moravia, a village named Nedvedice. It was a place where he sought to carve out a sanctuary of his own, a cottage that would stand as a testament to his resourcefulness and the unwavering bonds of family and friendship. Milan, filled with an irrepressible spirit, set out to create something anew. With limited means and scarce resources, he embarked on the ambitious endeavor of building a cottage, a haven where love, laughter, and cherished memories would take root. Undeterred by the challenges that lay ahead, Milan dedicated himself to the construction project. Armed with little more than his determination and a vision of what could be, he labored tirelessly day after day. Each morning, as the sun kissed the horizon, he would venture out to the site, his hands calloused but his heart brimming with hope. Though the task seemed daunting, Milan found solace in the camaraderie of close friends who shared his dream. They gathered around him, lending their strength, their expertise, and their unwavering support. Together, they became the architects of his vision, their friendship the cornerstone upon which the cottage would rise.


Sanctuary In Nedvedice


Part Four:


A place untouched by time ...



Among the trees, I would lose myself in the art of exploration. Hidden clearings and sun-dappled glades became my sanctuaries, where I would weave tales of brave knights and mystical creatures, allowing my imagination to soar. The forest became my teacher, revealing the delicate balance of existence, where every creature, from the nimble squirrel to the majestic deer, had its role to play.
In the embrace of the countryside, I would find solace by the rivers and lakes that adorned the landscape like shimmering jewels. Their waters mirrored the ever-changing sky, reflecting the hues of dawn and dusk with ethereal grace. I would dip my toes in the cool streams, feeling the gentle caress of the current against my skin, and watch as trout darted beneath the rippling surface, their silver scales a glimmering testament to the wonders of life.


During the bountiful seasons, my exploration would turn into a treasure hunt. The woods would offer up their abundant gifts—nature's delicate jewels—to those who knew where to look. With wicker baskets in hand, I would venture into the realm of berries and mushrooms, their vibrant colors and earthy aromas filling the air. Each discovery was a triumph, and I would return to the cottage, my heart brimming with the satisfaction of gathering nature's bounty. But it wasn't just the flora that thrived in this magical haven. The surrounding area of the cottage itself became a haven for an array of wildlife. From the mischievous fox to the majestic hawk soaring high above, the creatures of the land and sky seemed to recognize the cottage as a sanctuary, a place of peace and harmony. They would grace us with their presence, reminding us of our interconnectedness with the natural world.

Part Five:


         n the hidden depths of my grandfather's cottage, a world of innovation and creativity awaited. Beyond the threshold of the workshop's wooden door, the air crackled with anticipation, for within those walls, my grandfather's ingenious spirit thrived. It was within this sacred space that I, too, would come to discover the thrill of creation and the joy of unraveling the mysteries of electronics. From a young age, I found myself drawn to the humming machines and intricate circuitry that populated my grandfather's workshop. Surrounded by a myriad of tools and gadgets, each with its own purpose and story, I would spend countless hours under his patient guidance, absorbing the wisdom of his craftsmanship and the artistry of his engineering mind. With gentle hands and a mind filled with curiosity, my grandfather imparted his knowledge, revealing the inner workings of electronics and nurturing my love for all things technical. Together, we would disassemble old radios, televisions, and various gadgets that had long lost their usefulness, embarking on a journey of discovery and restoration. Piece by piece, we would examine the intricate components, marveling at their delicate beauty and the precision required for them to function harmoniously. My grandfather's steady voice would guide me, unraveling the complexities and demystifying the inner workings of each device. He taught me the importance of patience and attention to detail, instilling in me the values of a true craftsman.



As the years passed, my time at the cottage instilled in me a profound appreciation for the wonders of nature and the importance of preserving its delicate balance. The memories I created there, etched deep within my soul, continue to guide me, even as the world evolves and changes. Now, as I embark on new journeys and face the challenges of adulthood, I carry the spirit of my childhood at the cottage with me. It serves as a constant reminder of the boundless joy that can be found in the simplest of moments, and the profound connection we share with the natural world. The cottage in the rolling hills of Eastern Europe remains a cherished sanctuary—a place where the wonders of the forest, the rivers, and the lakes intertwine with the memories of my youth. It is a testament to the magic that can be found in the embrace of nature and the power of a childhood spent exploring the beauty of the world.


Delicate beauty and  precision required


Together, we would delve into these projects, pouring our collective wisdom and creativity into each endeavor. We would tinker with circuits, test new concepts, and embrace the thrill of experimentation. The workshop was a place where ideas blossomed and innovation flourished, a testament to the limitless boundaries of the human imagination. As I grew older, my skills and knowledge expanded, and my own ideas began to take shape. With my grandfather's unwavering support, I would embark on solo ventures, exploring new realms of invention and design. In the workshop, the torch was passed from one generation to another, as the legacy of craftsmanship and ingenuity continued to thrive. The workshop in my grandfather's cottage became more than just a place of practicality and innovation. It was a space that forged bonds, nurtured creativity, and kindled a passion that would forever burn within my heart. It taught me not only the technicalities of electronics but also the importance of embracing one's imagination, thinking outside the box, and pursuing dreams fearlessly.

In the workshop, the past merges with the present, and the spirit of innovation dances in harmony with the echoes of my grandfather's guidance. It is a testament to the power of mentorship, the beauty of craftsmanship, and the wonders that can be achieved when one's imagination is allowed to roam freely.


                       s the days turned into weeks and the weeks into years, my skillset grew alongside my passion. The workshop became my sanctuary, a place where the wonders of electronics came alive under my fingertips. Together, my grandfather and I would breathe life into once-dormant devices, transforming them into working marvels. Beyond the practical realm of repairs, my grandfather's inventive spirit flourished in the privacy of the workshop. Surrounded by sketches, diagrams, and unfinished projects, he nurtured his imaginative nature, giving life to wonderous creations. From contraptions that would light up the night sky to intricate devices that could automate mundane tasks, the workshop held the seeds of countless possibilities.


                      s I was growing up I spent much of my time at grandfathers cottage. It was within these hallowed walls and the embrace of its surrounding natural beauty that my childhood unfolded, a tapestry of joy, exploration, and connection with the bountiful world around me. As the sun's golden rays danced upon the landscape, beckoning me to venture forth, I would awaken with eager anticipation, knowing that another day of adventure awaited me at my grandfather's cottage. With boundless energy and an insatiable curiosity, I would step outside and immerse myself in the mesmerizing tapestry of nature that stretched out before me. The forests, with their towering trees reaching for the heavens, seemed to whisper ancient secrets, inviting me to uncover their mysteries. With nimble feet, I would traverse winding trails, my senses heightened by the symphony of rustling leaves, the melodic songs of birds, and the earthy fragrance that enveloped me. Each step was a gateway to discovery, an opportunity to witness the harmony of life in its purest form.


Milan's journey was marked by ingenuity and resourcefulness. With a keen eye for repurposing, he salvaged materials, breathing new life into discarded remnants. Weathered planks were transformed into sturdy walls, and reclaimed windows and doors found a new purpose, welcoming the warmth of sunlight into the cottage's embrace. As the seasons danced across the landscape, the cottage gradually took shape, its walls reaching towards the heavens with each passing day. Milan's determination was fueled by his love for his family and his desire to provide them with a place to call their own. He envisioned the laughter of children echoing through the halls, the scent of homemade meals wafting from the kitchen, and the warmth of love and togetherness enveloping every corner.

Part Six:

              he years rolled on, and the hands of time carried both change and uncertainty to the world. And in the midst of this shifting landscape, my grandfather's cottage, once a hub of creativity and refuge, found itself in the hands of new owners. Little did they know of the secrets that lay dormant within its walls, secrets that only my grandfather's memory held the key to unlocking. Meanwhile, life had taken me far away from the rolling hills of Eastern Europe, settling me on the other side of the world with my own family. It was a place far removed from the brewing evils that once haunted the lands where my ancestors had prospered. Yet, despite the distance, a lingering sense of foreboding nestled within my heart, as if the past and the present were destined to collide once more. The cottage, hidden from the world's prying eyes, stood as a silent sentinel, guarding the mysteries it held within. Its new owners, unaware of the memories etched into its very foundations, went about their lives, oblivious to the significance of their newfound possession. It was as if the cottage had slipped into a forgotten realm, waiting for the right time to reveal its secrets.


...Change and uncerntainty


Part Seven:


Beyond understanding

                        s fate would have it, a twist of destiny drew me back to my ancestral homeland, for reasons beyond my understanding. The past seemed to call out to me, tugging at my heartstrings, urging me to return to the cottage that held the memories of generations past. And so, with a mix of trepidation and curiosity, I embarked on a journey back to the land of my ancestors, the land where the cottage patiently waited. Upon my arrival, a sense of déjà vu washed over me. The familiar scent of the countryside greeted my senses, and the rolling hills welcomed me back as an old friend. It was as if time had stood still, preserving the essence of the place I had once called home.


With a mix of anticipation and trepidation, I reached out to the new occupants, extending a hand of friendship. As we shared stories and exchanged pleasantries, a flicker of recognition crossed their eyes, a glimmer of something inexplicable.

It was then that I realized the power of my grandfather's memory. Through shared tales and fragments of forgotten history, the past began to weave its way into the present. The new owners, captivated by the tales of the cottage's rich past, were drawn into the realm of intrigue and mystery that lay hidden within. Together, we embarked on a journey of discovery, delving into the secrets that had lain dormant for so long. Guided by my grandfather's memory and the whispers of the past, we unraveled the enigma that had veiled the cottage for decades. But as we unearthed the truth, we also came face to face with the mounting evil that had resurfaced in the east. It threatened to cast its dark shadow over everything we held dear, stirring echoes of the tragedies that had unfolded years ago.

Part Eight:


               he tales whispered among the villagers piqued my curiosity, stirring a dormant sense of adventure within my soul. Could it be that my grandfather's cottage held a key to a hidden force lurking in the depths of the old forest? With each passing day, the call grew stronger, urging me to return and continue the path my grandfather had set in motion. Guided by the folk stories passed down through generations, we ventured into the heart of the old forest. The path, overgrown and obscured by time, revealed itself to us as if by magic. Step by step, we delved deeper into the ancient woods, guided by the echoes of my grandfather's nature walks.

Nature whispered its secrets to us as we traversed the enchanted realm. The rustling of leaves, the gentle babbling of hidden streams, and the songs of birds became our companions. We felt the presence of something powerful, something dormant, lurking just beyond our reach. And then, amidst the towering trees, we stumbled upon a hidden glade—a place untouched by time. The air shimmered with an otherworldly energy, and a sense of awe washed over us. In the center of the glade stood a weathered stone pedestal, adorned with symbols and etchings that hinted at ancient wisdom.


Trepidation and reverence


            nstinctively, I knew that this was what we had been seeking. The key to the force that lay dormant, waiting for the touch of awakening. With trepidation and reverence, I placed my hand upon the stone, feeling a surge of energy course through my veins. Visions flashed before my eyes—visions of my grandfather, his eyes shining with determination, embarking on his own journey of discovery in this very forest. He had stumbled upon something powerful, something beyond imagination. And now, it was our turn to carry on his legacy. Returning to the cottage, we found a hidden compartment within the workshop—a trove of his notes, sketches, and unfinished projects. It became clear that my grandfather had been on a quest, piecing together the puzzle of the hidden force, harnessing the power of nature and technology in ways unimaginable.

With renewed purpose, we devoted ourselves to deciphering the secrets concealed within those faded pages. Guided by the spirits of the forest and the whispers of our ancestors, we embarked on a journey of discovery and rediscovery. Each day brought us closer to unraveling the enigma that had captivated my grandfather's imagination.
In the end, it was not just about unlocking the secrets of the hidden force but also about honoring my grandfather's legacy, carrying his dreams forward. We realized that our journey was not separate from his; it was an extension of his vision, a continuation of his quest. The force awakened, and its presence flowed through the cottage and the surrounding landscape.


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Vit Liskutin © (2022) 
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