Bozidara

Božidara is the grandmother you probably never had. But you'll wish you did. For your own good.

She knows how to bake Christmas cakes, but she usually misses Christmas. She has no taste, but she has style. She respects all living creatures, but she has a “No Dog Peeing” sign hanging on her fence. Her vocabulary is not the most refined.

She is wise, but not overly so. She only gives advice when explicitly asked. Well, sometimes even when she’s not. But it’s bearable.

She's fun. And never boring. She incomprehensibly revels in awkwardness. And she’ll drag you into it, whether you want to or not.

Pissing her off or offending her seems impossible. But if it's a matter of principle, you’d better stay out of her way. Her sense of justice is peculiar, but it's worth thinking about.

She cures all the world's sorrows with sweet buns. With poppy seeds. With sugar. And with rum. Lots of rum. And in particularly urgent cases, she’ll treat you to some cannabis.

Božidara is a woman who is not afraid to live or die. And yet there is one thing in the world she is afraid of.