What kind of life would you live if you didn't give a shit about all the "musts" and "must nots"?
Bozidara is the grandmother you may not have had. But you should want to. For your own good. He can bake Christmas cookies, but he usually misses Christmas. He has no taste, but he has style. She respects all living beings, but she has a "No Pissing Dogs" sign on her fence. Her vocabulary is not the most sophisticated. She's wise, but not wise. They only give advice when specifically asked. Well, okay, sometimes without it. But you can hang in there. She's fun. And it's not boring. He revels in awkwardness beyond comprehension. And he's going to drag you into it whether you want him to or not. To anger or offend her seems impossible. But when it comes to principle, you better get out of her way. Her sense of justice is peculiar, but it is worth thinking about. All the sorrows of the world will be cured with buns. With poppy seeds. With sugar. And rum. Lots of rum. And in cases of extreme urgency, he'll treat you to cannabis.
Bozidara may live a strange, but peaceful life. When teenage granddaughter Rosie shows up on her cottage doorstep one day with a request for indefinite asylum, neither of them knows how much their daily lives will change. While Bozidara has to deal with the fact that her loneliness of many years has been disrupted by a new being, Rosie tries to break free from the shackles her mother Milada has put on her in the form of an all-too-perfect life in which every second is pre-planned. But after a lazy summer together, two fundamental questions arise. Will Rosie return to high school to finish her senior year? And where does Bozidara disappear to every autumn for six months without anyone in the family knowing?
Bozidara is a woman who is not afraid to live or die. And yet there is one thing in the world that he fears. A novel about three generations of women. A novel about the fact that even when we try to be the best mothers we can, it may not lead to a beautiful relationship with our daughter.