stuff

See this piano? It's one of the most beautiful pianos in the whole world...and believe me, it has nothing whatsoever to do with the piano. The piano itself, when played, makes you sorry to be alive... but see it's owned by someone who is one of my favorite people... someone who is a prince- a real prince. I love to see this piano...because that means there's hope of spending some time with the owner, too. And yest, once again, no plans worked out so we had the whole afternoon with D- and his spirit is like balm to my own. If he were my dad, I'd hug him; he's not, so I just shake his hand and hope that he somehow knows how much he means to us.

Here's the entrance from D's living room to his (future dining room? At least I think that's what that room will eventually be).
And the staircase at D's. This cell phone does no justice whatsoever to his gorgeous house. He's a woodworker and a master at his trade. He's worked on it for about a hundred years... at least 8 anyway. Before this stairway appeared, it was just the metal frame with (sometimes) loose slabs of wood for steps and no railing. I hated hated going up and down them- my knees turned to jelly every time. I told him the most beautiful part of the house is the staircase. And that is no joke. I no longer fear for my life & have peace of mind. And peace of mind is a beautiful thing.

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This is the conductor on last night's train. She was one of the better ones. I really wanted a clear shot of her but didn't get it. She was cute to the max. Well, cute in a mack truck sort of way. Mack truck in a skirt way. she moved pretty fast, too (that blur is her carrying the dirty sheets back to her compartment this morning). She called us 'dear little one' and 'my children' (doesn't sound as endearing in Eng as in Rus'n- moyi detky) and said everything with a smile. Really, maybe she needs a place to live... I should have asked her. The very best thing about her? 2 things: she gave us our sheets for the beds right away when we got on the train (which was 11.30 pm- you don't like to wait a long time at that hour) and she didn't wake us up this am until 6...***************************************************
See this granny? She was waiting in the train station for hours with us. She was all bundled up- wearing a winter coat, scarf and hat... and totally completely fragile- tipsy, even. Hardly could keep upright on her own. And it wasn't because she was drunk or anything. She's just 'oldish'...

This is what she had tucked under her arm-
Can you tell what it is? It's a bad shot, I know. I was sort of casually pretending to just hold my phone out there and not look at the screen- so couldn't really tell what I was getting... didn't want to offend anyone you know.

(it's a skateboard)

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And wow, that station was full of an interesting assortment of people last night. A drunk old man listening to a sort of clunky fake iPOD who kept trying to talk religion with Ala; another drunk who was walking around touching random strangers- on their arms and faces- (He disappeared for about 10 min and veered back into sight holding his mouth- which had somehow morphed into a bloody pulp. I'm glad that part happened in the 10 min he was out of sight); various teenagers dressed in various comical, radical teenage ways; old grannies talking about all sorts of old granny things- like canning and the price of bread and how to can tomatoes; gypsies- always interesting, if only for the shock value (case in point: last week I watched a gypsy mom carrying a toddler- the baby was eating a fat piece of sausage and dropped it right by my feet while they were at the front of the bus. Mom missed that and they meandered all the way to the back asking for money and all the way back up again. On her way out the door, the mom looked down, saw the sausage, picked it up and ate it... I had decided I'd kick it out the door after she got off...never got the chance.)

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I like to chew on ice cubes/chips. Did you know that if you eat too many the insides of your cheeks get numb and you can then totally chew up your cheek without knowing anything about it until you taste blood? (this comic is esp for Little Trude! ha! Really, I might just legally change my name to Jon Arbuckle- it would be so fitting. I don't go on dates with lady vets, though... or any dates, for that matter... there are still some holes in this Anita=JA theory.)