
Rozpaliłem ognisko. Na żeliwnej patelni od brata usmażyłem kiełbasę, cebulę i kawałki mięsa. Prosto, bez zbędnych dodatków. Ten smak – dymu, ognia i ziemi – jest nie do podrobienia. Jest w tym coś pierwotnego. Coś, co przypomina, kim jesteśmy bez technologii i pośpiechu. Jedzenie przy ogniu to rytuał. Czas spowalnia, myśli ulatują z dymem-wysoko. Smakuje. Zjadam wszystko. Dym oczyszcza.

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ognisko


![](https://res.cloudinary.com/dk9k5fd4z/image/upload/v1773303530/borucki/blog/2025-06-13%20-%20S%C5%82ucha%C5%82%20wiatru%2C%20znosi%C5%82%20burze/DSCF0881.webp)
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Słuchał wiatru, znosił burze

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Uhuhu + Jan i Klan

# Where Strawberries Grow, Memories Appear


Summer holidays at my grandfather’s place were always magical. Today, with the perspective of time, I see it even more clearly. I felt like one of the children from _The Children of Noisy Village_ (_Dzieci z Bullerbyn_ – I actually prefer the Polish title; it sounds warmer, closer). – free, happy, surrounded by simple joys.

I remember getting off at the small train station in Piechcin. The sun was already warm, and with my backpack and a smile, I marched cheerfully toward my grandfather’s house. He was always waiting. And with him – strawberries. Not just any strawberries. His – from the garden. Red, fragrant, juicy. They tasted like summer. Like childhood. They’ve stayed with me forever. My grandfather is no longer here, but the memories remain.

Every time I eat strawberries, I return to those moments. I see myself as a little boy, sitting on a bench with my legs in the grass. Grandpa used to call me **Kamosa**. To this day, I don’t really know why. It’s just a kind of weed. But I liked it. I remember it like it was yesterday.

It’s strange how small gestures, scents, and words stay with us. Sometimes, all it takes is one strawberry to return to a place that no longer exists.
![](https://res.cloudinary.com/dk9k5fd4z/image/upload/v1773303523/borucki/blog/2025-06-03%20-%20Where%20Strawberries%20Grow/DSCF0079.jpg)
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Where Strawberries Grow, Me


Spring isn’t over yet, but mountain life whispers: _start preparing._ Zdzichu didn’t disappoint — first delivery came in today. Delivery and workout in one.  
I like it. Falling face-first into the ground, but my mind is quiet. There’s nothing else I need to think about. I like touching wood. The weight, the grain, the smell. It reminds me that life is built from small, steady efforts. One log at a time. One season preparing for the nexy. Fire will come. Warmth will follow. And I’ll be grateful for every piece I carried today.

![](https://res.cloudinary.com/dk9k5fd4z/image/upload/v1773303519/borucki/blog/2025-05-28%20-%20delivery_001/DSCF0070.webp)
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delivery_001

# „Sometimes you just have to pee in the sink.”

The phrase "Sometimes you just have to pee in the sink" is **a quote attributed to the American poet Charles Bukowski**. It's a humorous and slightly irreverent statement, often used to express a feeling of being in a dire or desperate situation. It's not a literal suggestion to urinate in a sink, but rather a metaphor for situations where one might resort to a less than ideal solution. 

It was good, sure — but next time, more salt… or a woman. Either one makes it worth the trouble. : )

### **Keto Cottage Cheese Pancakes (Flourless)**

**Ingredients:**

- 150 g cottage cheese (full-fat)
    
- 2 eggs
    
- 1 tsp baking powder
    
- Optional: sweetener to taste (e.g. stevia, erythritol, honey if not strict keto)
    
- A pinch of salt
    
- Butter or coconut oil for frying
    

**Instructions:**

1. In a bowl, mix the cottage cheese, eggs, baking powder, salt, and sweetener (if using) until smooth.
    
2. Heat a non-stick pan with a bit of butter or coconut oil.
    
3. Spoon the batter onto the pan and shape small pancakes.
    
4. Cook on medium heat for about 2–3 minutes per side until golden.
![](https://res.cloudinary.com/dk9k5fd4z/image/upload/v1773303511/borucki/blog/2025-05-08%20-%20Sometimes%20you%20just%20have%20to/_DSF4104.jpg)![](https://res.cloudinary.com/dk9k5fd4z/image/upload/v1773303513/borucki/blog/2025-05-08%20-%20Sometimes%20you%20just%20have%20to/_DSF4100.jpg)![](https://res.cloudinary.com/dk9k5fd4z/image/upload/v1773303515/borucki/blog/2025-05-08%20-%20Sometimes%20you%20just%20have%20to/_DSF4108.jpg)![](https://res.cloudinary.com/dk9k5fd4z/image/upload/v1773303516/borucki/blog/2025-05-08%20-%20Sometimes%20you%20just%20have%20to/_DSF4111.jpg)![](https://res.cloudinary.com/dk9k5fd4z/image/upload/v1773303517/borucki/blog/2025-05-08%20-%20Sometimes%20you%20just%20have%20to/_DSF4103.jpg)


Sometimes you just have to pee in the sink.

his morning started with a short walk and a coffee from the local restaurant [Łaka](https://www.facebook.com/p/%C5%81%C4%84KA-Micha%C5%82kowa-Restauracja-61559793391117/) — and somehow, that was enough. The air carried the sweet scent of blooming trees, soft and unmistakably spring. A quiet moment, a sip of rich coffee, sunlight gently warming the face. I was in good company — Ania and someone... not quite human. A batman of sorts. But that story, I’ll tell another time. The walk didn’t last long though — a storm rolled in faster than expected, chasing us home with the first raindrops..

Sometimes, that’s all we need. Just to be.




![](https://res.cloudinary.com/dk9k5fd4z/image/upload/v1773304186/borucki/blog/2025-05-03%20-%20Coffee%20and%20the%20Shadow/_DSF4093.jpg)
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![](https://res.cloudinary.com/dk9k5fd4z/image/upload/v1773304205/borucki/blog/2025-05-03%20-%20Coffee%20and%20the%20Shadow/_DSF4091.jpg)

Coffee and the Shadow of a Bat


# Just Being

### He doesn’t have to do anything. I love watching him just be. The world slows down.

#diego #slowmorning #gfx50sii #fujigfx #morningmood #dogpeace #mediumformat #fujiquietmoments #fujifilmpolska

![](https://res.cloudinary.com/dk9k5fd4z/image/upload/v1773304181/borucki/blog/2025-04-13%20-%20Just%20Being/_DSF3852.jpg)
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![](https://res.cloudinary.com/dk9k5fd4z/image/upload/v1773304184/borucki/blog/2025-04-13%20-%20Just%20Being/_DSF3849.jpg)


Just Being


While hiking in the mountains, we came across a herd of black horses. They were grazing freely in the open, with no fences or tethers. They were completely wild — their presence felt natural, almost primal, as if they had always been a part of this landscape.

To our surprise, the horses showed no fear. On the contrary — they approached one of us. My friend, with remarkable ease, established a connection with them. He stood still as they came closer and closer, curious but unafraid. For a moment, there was a silent, instinctive communication between them, something beyond words.
![](https://res.cloudinary.com/dk9k5fd4z/image/upload/v1773304740/borucki/blog/2025-03-24%20-%20Where%20the%20Black%20Horses%20Roar/_DSF3719.jpg)![](https://res.cloudinary.com/dk9k5fd4z/image/upload/v1773304742/borucki/blog/2025-03-24%20-%20Where%20the%20Black%20Horses%20Roar/_DSF3729.jpg)![](https://res.cloudinary.com/dk9k5fd4z/image/upload/v1773304743/borucki/blog/2025-03-24%20-%20Where%20the%20Black%20Horses%20Roar/_DSF3733.jpg)![](https://res.cloudinary.com/dk9k5fd4z/image/upload/v1773304747/borucki/blog/2025-03-24%20-%20Where%20the%20Black%20Horses%20Roar/_DSF3734.jpg)![](https://res.cloudinary.com/dk9k5fd4z/image/upload/v1773304749/borucki/blog/2025-03-24%20-%20Where%20the%20Black%20Horses%20Roar/_DSF3741.jpg)![](https://res.cloudinary.com/dk9k5fd4z/image/upload/v1773304750/borucki/blog/2025-03-24%20-%20Where%20the%20Black%20Horses%20Roar/_DSF3748.jpg)


Where the Black Horses Roar


# This brownie is more than just dessert.

To brownie, które nie spadło z nieba, którego nie dostałem w gratisie od losu, a nawet nie wygrałem na loterii… Ktoś z odrobiną szaleństwa (doskonale wiem kto) wrzucił je do paczkomatu i pomyślał o mnie. Ot tak. Bez powodu. Ktoś, kto zamiast napisać idiotyczne: _“Jak się masz?”_, wysłał mi kawałek słodkiej wiadomości. W świecie, gdzie ludzie pamiętają o tobie głównie wtedy, gdy czegoś chcą.

W świecie, który zapierdala jedynie w dół i ciągle nabiera bezwładu beznadziei. W świecie, gdzie wszyscy mają gęby pełne słów, ale zero chęci. W świecie, gdzie dobroć to tylko marketingowe, modne hasło – ktoś wysłał ci ciasto. To jest coś, kurwa, cholernie rzadkiego. Niemożliwego.

Kiedy ostatnio zrobiłeś dla kogoś coś tak po prostu? Kiedy zapytałeś, czy czegoś potrzebuje, bez oczekiwania na wzruszoną odpowiedź? Nie mówię o jebanym lajku pod postem. Nie mówię o rzuceniu _“Trzymaj się”_, kiedy widzicie się na chwilę w przeciągu chwili. Mówię o tym, żeby faktycznie **ZOBACZYĆ** drugiego człowieka, a nie tylko odbicie własnej zajebistości w jego smutnych oczach.

To brownie to coś więcej niż deser. To dowód, że jeszcze nie wszystko w tym świecie jest do wyrzucenia. Że gdzieś, ktoś, mimo całego tego dymu, chaosu, bełkotu i gówna, pomyślał o mnie. Nie dlatego, że musiał. Nie dlatego, że chciał coś ugrać. Po prostu – pomyślał.

To jest, kurwa, piękne.

Dziękuję, A

❣️ 🧩

![](https://res.cloudinary.com/dk9k5fd4z/image/upload/v1773304736/borucki/blog/2025-03-20%20-%20This%20brownie%20is%20more%20than%20just%20brownie/_DSF3657.jpg)![](https://res.cloudinary.com/dk9k5fd4z/image/upload/v1773304737/borucki/blog/2025-03-20%20-%20This%20brownie%20is%20more%20than%20just%20brownie/_DSF3658.jpg)![](https://res.cloudinary.com/dk9k5fd4z/image/upload/v1773304738/borucki/blog/2025-03-20%20-%20This%20brownie%20is%20more%20than%20just%20brownie/_DSF3659.jpg)![](https://res.cloudinary.com/dk9k5fd4z/image/upload/v1773304739/borucki/blog/2025-03-20%20-%20This%20brownie%20is%20more%20than%20just%20brownie/_DSF3663.jpg)


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