"Boy, you've got to carry that weight a long time"

Upon arriving at the remiza, the first task: carry Kinga up the stairs. I was a little worred — it's not that Kinga's heavy (far from it) but that I'm a weakling. I made it. Rather, we made it — the effect on my ego would not have been nearly as bad as the effect on Kinga's dress had something happened.

Był dzielny i wyniósł mnie na samą górę naszej remizy. Nie żebym wątpiła jaki jest silny, gdzie tam, ja po prostu jestem ciężka. :-)

But nothing happened, so I'm being silly to be carrying on about it.

Next step: champagne toast. All the guests lift a glass (all together — it's a big glass) to our health, then Kinga and I, after taking a careful look behind us,

toss our glasses over our shoulders.

And of course, clean up the mess.

Rozbiło się w drobny mak, to podobno dobra wróżba.

After the toast, it was time for lunch.