Don Bacho & Bedina Daagdo ... -

Bedina looked at the tumbling wooden mountain, looked at his blackberries, and then looked at the steep 200-foot drop to the river below. He calmly stepped aside. "Bacho!" Bedina yelled. (Drop it/Let it go!)

At that exact moment, Gogi the donkey decided he had had enough of family heirlooms. With a sudden shimmy, the straps snapped. The wardrobe teetered. "Bedina, hold it!" Bacho screamed.

Bedina walked over, wiped purple juice from his lip, and pointed down at the river. "Look on the bright side, Bacho. You wanted it in the valley. It’s in the valley. And we didn’t even have to walk the rest of the way." DON BACHO & BEDINA daagdo ...

Bedina arrived, leaning lazily against his donkey, Gogi. "Bacho, that wardrobe is larger than my house. Why not just burn it and tell people it was stolen by a ghost?" "It’s an heirloom," Bacho insisted. "We carry it."

Bacho, realizing the wardrobe was now a projectile, dove into the mud. The wardrobe didn't just fall; it soared. It hit the rocks below with a sound like a thunderclap, exploding into a thousand splinters of oak and antique dust. Bedina looked at the tumbling wooden mountain, looked

Silence fell over the mountain. Bacho crawled out of the mud, his face a mask of fury. "My grandmother’s wardrobe! You told me to daagdo ?"

The sun was barely kissing the peaks of the Caucasus when Don Bacho stood outside his stone hut, scratching his chin. He had a problem: a giant, ancient wooden wardrobe that had belonged to his grandmother. It was heavy, smelled of mothballs and history, and needed to go to the village at the bottom of the valley. (Drop it/Let it go

"Bedina!" Bacho hollered. "Bring your donkey and your pride. We have work."