For a few people.............

To the FitBit Peeps out there: Have you tried this? (It just seemed worth a go!)

I have a little pedometer- nothing so slick as the genuine fitbit dealy-bobber. But it counts steps. I don't wear it much. Not since I got 16,000 steps in 3 hours on a typical bus ride. 

I've seen a lot of shivery posts on facebook- the weather's turning cooler and a goosebump or 2 might appear from time to time. No complaints here, though. It's such a treat to not be sweating all the time. I'm in love with being able to move around outside without feeling like I've melted into a yucky puddle of grime and slime. And sleeping at night and needing a blanket! How fantastic! I tucked my duvet into it's cover today and am luxuriating in the bliss of needing a blanket and the duvet. Of wanting to snuggle into covers and pillows. 

Even the buses are mostly no longer hot. 

I like summer for the freedom of movement- my backpack is lighter because there's no need for a sweater or extra socks or long-sleeve anything; no coat to slow you down and take up space. Footwear is a cinch- sandals! In that respect, summer is a treat. 

But this weather- you can breathe again, you can exult in the feel of cool air on your skin. Walking everywhere is a treat again and not just something to endure. Ahhh fall, I do love you!!!

Things that really aren't possible

I can only conclude that they have bad ice cream at that house.

 

I have ice cream memories from as far back as I can remember. There were a lot of things that we didn't have in our house when we were growing up. Some of those things I wanted pretty badly (oddly, though, I cannot think of a single one of them now. hmmm); some I don't remember fretting about much. For instance, we never had a TV and, while I loved spending the occasional night at my friends' houses- Sondra or Lorna, usually- and totally gluing my eyes to the TV while there, I really don't remember missing it much at home. (Maybe my mom can fill in forgotten details!)
I think I would have gladly had more soda pop, although I don't remember exactly suffering without that, either. I do remember that ice cold pop (Pepsi or Root Beer) and chips went with haying.
And I also vividly remember my very first ever Mountain Dew. I was at the county fair and stopped at a food stand for a snack...and had a Mountain Dew to go with it. And it was love at first swallow. And nothing's changed. Man-O-Live, I love that stuff. (And it's just good for everything about me that it's not for sale here in Ukraine, sigh.)
Same goes for my first Snickers. I was, if you can believe it, in the 8th grade. Supposed to meet my mom at the library after school or some such thing. What I remember clearly is going into the grocery store across the street from the library and buying a Snickers bar. And also loving that from first bite. Snickers is sold here in Ukraine. Snickers are too much and too sweet now. (I have no idea why Mt Dew isn't....I'm sure there's way more sugar there.)
And we always had ice cream in the freezer. Always. Burger's Vanilla Ice Cream. (And sadly, it doesn't even exist anymore.) It was delicious. My dad's favorite. About the only kind he'd eat, as I recall. His idea of an after dinner treat was a big bowl of ice cream with chocolate sauce on top. My brother Paul has continued the tradition nicely. And I must say, I don't often say No to ice cream myself. Vanilla is the best. And when it's hot out? You simply can't have too much! Ukrainians love ice cream but most often buy it in single serving cones or bars or some such thing. The place is full of little ice cream freezers with a friendly woman (usually) and a cash box.
I had 2 ice creams yesterday and one today.
It's been very hot here the past few days.* Thankfully.
So let's hear it for ice cream!! And remember, Kids- You really CAN'T have too much! ;)

*It really has been hot- unseasonably hot. Over 90 degrees on Fri and close to that yesterday. 80-something felt cool today. 

calendars and birds and collectors

When I was in the US the last time, I picked up (on sale) an Audubon bird calendar for 2012 and brought it back with me. And loved it. And kept it thinking- Sometime, you know, you might want some of these pix.

In June, I came across it and decided to cut the pictures apart and use them 'here and there'.
I accidentally cut off some of the names and was curious to know just what kind of bird was on one or two of the pix.

So, being a fan of google, I googled '2012 Audubon Songbird calendar'. And clicked on the Amazon link. And nearly passed out. You can sell your used '2012 Audubon Songbird calendar' on Amazon starting for (starting at) $89.88. And I'm guessing mine would have fallen into the higher price range as it was in excellent condition, no writing, not bent, pristine condition....
Mind you, I likely wouldn't have sold it myself but.
Seriously- Who pays $255 for a calendar????

So- if you have any of those babies laying around, get them listed and sell them! (And start shopping around for next year's; by the time your kids graduate from high school, you might be able to contribute to their college fund with 1 calendar!)

The Fridge Got Married

What do you think about that??

No, Not THAT Fridge.

This Fridge.

This is the fridge that lives in our kitchen.
And, Why Yes, there IS a story.
Thank you for asking!

Just over a week ago, we went down south. All the way to the end of the world south...well, the end of Ukraine, anyway. Down to the mouth of the Danube River. And when we got back to our cozy little apt up here in the sort of north, we made a wee discovery.
First of all, we got into town really early. I mean really. (Because our city is in the middle and all trains are on their way to some end city a few hours, at least, down the road. And they want to be there at 6 am. Ugh.) And the night train had been HOT. As in SoHotICan'tSleep Hot. There was one 2hour stretch that I never noticed the time. (This is paybacks for never having had kids and losing sleep getting up with fussy babies. Nights on trains. So that I know what it's like. I feel your pain, I do. And do you know what? You cannot sit up in a rocking chair and cuddle the hot train and enjoy the smell of the top of its head while you're not sleeping.)
Anyway- so when we got back to the apt, we crawled straight into bed for a few more hours. Like 3 or 4.
And then I rolled out to the kitchen in search of cereal and coffee. And noticed the fridge light didn't come on.
And further more, the milk is...whoa- Very Sour. And Completely Warm. Oh dear.
And so's everything else. Everything. Everything is basically room temperature. Sure enough- it's off and has been for a while.
Long story somewhat shorter.
The fridge was plugged into a power strip with an auto shutoff in the event of a major power surge. There had apparently been just such a surge while we were away. That feature on the power strip likely saved the fridge. (Because of the ongoing crisis with Russia there is a bit of a problem with power supply just now- some days, the power is shut off for a few hours during peak usage time so that the commercial centers and hospitals near us have what they need. When it's turned on again, there are some pretty big surges.) However, you have to manually flip a switch to get juice back into the cord. Heh. And that takes a person. Present. Which there wasn't.
So, we talked to the landlord and he found and brought over a little surge protector that you set to a max output. If it tops that, it shuts off until the output drops below that level and stays there for 90 seconds or some such thing.

Here it is. See it? It and the fridge are Very Happy together.

See that number? 229? 
heh
We have 220 volt outlets here, theoretically. Our landlord tried it at his house (in a village on the outskirts of town) and said Set it to trip at 235 and you'll be fine. 
Thanks, We said.
We did.
And our fridge never stayed on for more than about 5 min at a time. This'll never work, We said.
Call the landlord back who consults his fellow electrical engineers at work.
Oh yes, in town it's quite high, They said. Set it at 250, They said.
We did.
The fridge runs and is happy. And that little gadget often registers outputs of around 245.
I'm telling you- Don't Put a Fork in Our Outlets. You Will Be SORRY!

And furthermore, I now understand why people unplug their washers every time they're finished with the laundry. I do, too.... now. And I also no longer leave my laptop plugged in when I'm not using it. 

Today I rode the bus with a Hapsburg jaw. And wondered what the chances were that it actually was one.... our just that kind of a jaw.
Ask your Uncle Google. ;-)

brave new world

More than a month since the last post. Things got really dicey really fast right then and just took my breath away. And it's just been hard to get the 'umph' to write. There have been some very encouraging days in there but also lots of very uncertain days. Ukraine is in brand new territory, feeling her way through. As has been echoed from everyone from the new government on down, We never even thought to prepare a defense of some kind against Russia; we never could have imagined that we'd need one. 

But need it they do. And prepare it they have...or are. 

The army began mobilizing about 3 weeks ago. One of the things the last pres did (the one who was impeached) was to nearly do away with the army (never mind that, number-wise, it's still the largest in Europe). A voluntary conscription was begun and thousands have signed up. Including many relatives and neighbors and acquaintances of my students. And some of my own acquaintances. 

And, of course, lots of military movement and training. And fund raising. 

The bright side of this? There are several, actually. 

-People need each other, they need us, we need them- we all feel it. People are listening intently and with need. And on the streets and in the stores and buses- people are nice to each other. Polite. Kind. It's been interesting to note.

-Not nearly as many drunks. In fact, since the holidays ended mid January, I've seen probably a handful. And usually there were that many a day. 

And that brings me to this: Purpose.

One day, my friend and I were walking along the road and noticed a small dog tearing along in a straight line- Point A to Point B, that was very clear. 

There goes a dog with a purpose, One of us said.

Zoom- another, larger dog goes tearing along hot on the heels of the first dog.

And there goes his purpose, The other one said.

And we laughed.

But we're like those dogs- We need something to focus on, to motivate us, to get us moving in a straight line. We need a purpose. Many Ukrainians have found a purpose that they didn't have. 

There is a better purpose, even, than theirs. I'm glad I have a purpose.  

Mr FixIt and Son Tales

The bathroom floor- finished! And the washer is back in its place- that's what really made us smile! (You'd smile, too, if you were running out of vital things of clothage). I thought at first Mr FixIt's son said they were going to 'seal the grout'- which really knocked me out of the ball park. But...it's just there- the grout. They didn't seal it. Oh well.

The bedroom floor yest morning. Not long after we had a slight altercation polite discussion- Someone (cough) lost the PO box key. BigAndInCharge PO Lady gave me a number to call to take care of that. (No, they could not do it there and No they cannot go and check the box for us. Ok.) So- we asked Mr FixIt and his son to please refrain from using the saw for just a little bit while we made the all-important phone call. In the middle of the call, all other sound was suddenly drowned out by...the saw. I ran in there and asked them to PLEASE wait just 1 min. Their response? Tell her to go out into the corridor (the stairwell of the building). My eyes rolled so hard they nearly got stuck pointing some direction other than forward.

The floor at 4 pm last night when Mr FixIt left. 

In other remodel/FixIt news

-I pointed out that the shower head no longer fits into the wall-mounted holder. I yanked it last week (cough again) and did something dreadful to the inside liner and had to replace it...and the new one- didn't fit. The end was too fat. I pointed all that out. Could you please figure out something here? I asked. And he did. He (cough yet again) took it off and put it back on right side up. Oh. I mean. WhoKnew?
-We've started the big clean up. Big. As in- Mr FixIt cut the first of the tile for the bathroom in the bathroom with the door wide open. If you want to see how far that powdery dust can launch itself in about 10 seconds...well- come on over. Inside cupboards (whose doors were closed at the time). All pipes Everywhere. The door at the foot of my bed that goes out to the balcony. All the potted plants (they're getting showers in the tub.) Not to mention our tooth brushes (shudder- don't worry, we took care of those straight away). It. Is. Everywhere. Sigh.
-Yesterday AM we were having quiet time, getting ready for the day when Mr FixIt's son zooms over to their stash of materials right outside the door to my room (the middle of which is a large panel of glass with a frosted flower design in it- Yes, it's poorly designed)- the door is ajar (because it won't stay shut- no doorknob, you know)- He looks in through the glass, sees N by her bed contemplating what clothes to wear- thankfully she was still in her pj's (Yes, they got here early yest)- and says Hello!- all bright and cheerful. N looks stunned and says to me- It's like living at the train station. And I did what I should have done 3 months ago and put a throw over the glass. No one's looking in anymore.***
-This morning, N was reading her Bible on her bed and Mr FixIt comes charging into the room (without knocking) to inspect where the new doorknob will go. She's once again in shock. (I was in the kitchen eating this time.) Just what planet are these clowns from anyway? Mr FixIt and Son? We Are So Over You.  (They both left about 5 min later and haven't come back.)

***I feel like explaining this one a bit more. We got home very late Sun night- after 11 by the time we got in... and that's not in bed that's just in the door...we'd had a BIG day. Mon's are the one day we have to try to recover from the previous normally-very-big-and-long days. I woke up quite early with a migraine. A bad one. And was still trying to get to the point where I could move without the risk of throwing up. N was getting sick (she's flat out sick and in bed now). Mr FixIt has been arriving somewhere between 9 and 10 am. So his arrival not long after 8 yesterday caught us completely off guard and unprepared.  

From where I sit

Gorgeous hoar frost this morning. It's been warming up and is supposed to be above freezing during the day for the next week or so. Can't say that I mind all that much. :)

Closer to the window. I loved looking out this window early last week when the snow was fresh and unspoiled. There's that poem about life being like a field of newly (driven?) snow- be careful how you tread it for every step will show. There's a lot to be said for learning from our mistakes (and how sad if we don't)... but what about learning from others' mistakes? And what about asking and seeking and knocking until we find, receive and are opened to? And sometimes we have a fresh snowfall that covers it all up and lets us 'start again'. Life truly is special.

This must have fallen from a floor above us. Someone must have a clothes line off their balcony/out their window. I don't know- I think I'd go claim it if it were mine! It's been there for days and looks more lonely and forlorn with each passing day! ;)

• The remodeling is progressing. Mr Renovator Man has taken to opening the window (again) and smoking 'out' it...only, as he sheepishly said today 'It doesn't always work out'... No, it doesn't. We're not nagging him about it- he knows we don't like it but does it anyway...so what to do? I can't figure out why anyone would want a newly redone room to have the lingering odor of cigarette smoke in it from the very start...
• We've been battling ants (little tiny ones. Tiny and hardy.) for nearly a year now. Ugh. K first noticed them last spring- she thought she'd brought them home in a box of cereal; I've come to the conclusion that they have a whole metropolis with suburbs and outlying areas in the walls of our building. We found a smallish anthill (not kidding) on our top cupboard shelf underneath the stash of disposable dinnerware- that was enough to give us the heebie-jeebies, I'm telling you. After that, we've waged a serious war- homemade ant poison and vigilantly checking the kitchen. Often. We lost 2 house plants to them- they must have moved into the pots and eaten the roots??? We found one ant highway that led to a crack under the windowsill and provided them with plenty of doctored food in that vicinity. Sigh. Did you see that thing that was going around the web earlier? About pouring molten aluminum on an anthill and seeing cool things? (Google 'anthill art')- that just always made me feel slightly sick, actually. I mean- ants outside in their anthill doing ant things. Why do you have to kill them for the sake of seeing something cool? But these ants? The ones in our kitchen. Grrr. If I could have reached their main colony, I'd have gladly taken it down. We are slowly winning the war. Months after putting out the first poison. (Wouldn't you like to come visit us? :) )

ahhh

Just checking in!
Today
- I realized I've lost the PO box key. Hmmm. Possibly when we get this renovation done and N's stuff moved back into her room it will show up??? One can certainly hope.
- I read about my aunt and uncle's trip via AmTrak to New York. Their train was only 10 1/2 hours late leaving IN. No kidding. They spent the whole night on one of those Very Cold Nights waiting for that train, running to nearby gas stations for food and restroom facilities. This is enough to completely blow the mind of the locals here. My aunt came to the conclusion that you never leave for a train trip without 1) food or 2) books. (This is something I abide by in the land where they're nearly always on time...same goes for bus trips. You. Just. Never. Know.)
- Mr Renovation Man has finished the new plaster work in the nearly new room. And I noticed that the light switch has been moved down to about waist height. Our landlady (the real one, not her mom--who's the one footing the bill for the renovation, remember?) has a 1st grade son. The new wall paper is blue. I have come to the rather astute conclusion that we will soon be looking for a new place to live. This renovation is not for us. They will also not be doing more while we live here. (I'll get back to you in a few months' time to let you know about the accuracy of that prediction!)
-Popcorn is superbly splendid. Especially the kind that you pop on the stove top. In fact, let's not even include the microwave stuff under the heading 'popcorn'. After being wintered in for over a week in a village in the western part of the country, N's face was one big grin when we had popcorn for supper!
-N also loves corn bread. It's a give and take kind of thing! I love love love 'Zeleniy Borsch' (I've never had it with parsnips but it would be worth a try! One nice addition is some Polish-type sausage; also cilantro. pix here)- which I never had before the fall of 2000; I have also developed an affection for savory buckwheat, boiled (like rice, for instance) and served as a side dish.

I used to wonder about the steps in an escalator. The world is full of magic to children! 

Shall we call this a February Challenge?

Someone else in blogland is committed to blogging each day of February. I haven't exactly decided to do the same but I have been remembering how much I used to love to just babble here a bit and how long it's been since I did much of that on a regular basis. And maybe that's not a bad thing.

February here is 2 1/2 days old and so far has been gloriously sunny. Today is 21F, bright blue sky and beautiful. I've not been outside yet...but it's on the agenda. For one thing, there was the phone call last night on the train. First there was the sms about UAH 40 having been put on my phone acct. And then the umpteen missed phone calls from an unfamiliar number. And then the one I actually answered (it was my smart phone which I seldom use as an actual phone- it's my mobile internet, actually- so don't ever have the volume on). This unfamiliar unknown person on the other end was begging me to return the uah 40 she'd accidentally sent to my number instead of her own. It's easy to do. We have these iBoxes everywhere (I just googled that- And I have no idea why we call them iBox! It's just a freestanding machine where you can punch in your phone number and then feed it money and your acct is recharged; you can recharge a lot of other accts, too but the phone is the only one I'm interested in). So if you accidentally switch a couple numbers or enter a wrong digit and that number exists- Bingo! You've given someone else a present! So, I need to go out and put uah40 on her acct...since it turns out doing it through the phone company involves passports and other rig-a-marole.
For another thing there's the nearly empty fridge out there.

When my little sis was in middle school, she was (for how long? Don't know.) the arm wrestling champion. I can only imagine all the boys were thrilled. 

 That Peanuts reminded me of this one. An old one featured on here before (back in 2008). Yup. That bro-in-law was just about to get creamed by his wife's sis. Who is one tough chick! ;)

The new room is progressing. There was just a tremendous crash followed by happy humming and scurrying feet and more sounds of drywall being mudded so apparently there were no casualties. Mr Man also sings while he works. He's about 2 inches tall, weighs about an ounce, looks like he's about a hundred and moves in fast darting motions. I can only assume it was a short trip to the floor. 

Aaannnnnddddddddddddd February!

The renovation is still going strong. Day 2 (yesterday) revealed that, although the landlady (well, her mom really. Wanna know something? The actual for-real landlady uhhh doesn't know about this little new room. Yup. I had a call the other day from Anya- the lady who originally rented this place to us. Unbeknownst to us at the time, the apt is in her adult dau's name. All our business was with Anya until a certain point last year when the dau stepped in and said- I'm the owner you know. Your dealings will be with me now. I think she thought her mom was too soft with us. heh. teehee. I wonder why. So anyway- Anya calls- Uhhh You're meeting with my dau later today? Yes, I say. Uhhh. Well. Do you mind not telling her about that work we're going to be doing on that room at the apt? She uhhhh doesn't know about it. She uhhhh doesn't think we have enough money for it right now. I thought for a minute. And then said Well I can just keep quiet about it. I had no intention of lying about it but I also couldn't see why it should even come up since Darling Dau had no reason to suspect, apparently. And sure enough, not a word was said. If I hadn't had so many frustrations with Darling Dau, I would feel a bit sorry for her but... so anyway- back to the proverbial ranch. Day 2 revealed that, although the landlady's MOM said they were going to redo the walls, it is, in fact, the whole room that's getting a new do. There is laminate flooring in that collection up there. And the walls and ceiling will be drywall. And Mr Renovator Man is one hard working dude. He works from 9 am to 6 or 7 pm with no breaks for anything- food, drink, toilet, nothing. He goes outside (ahem) about twice in that stretch for a smoke. And. That. Is. It. After a previous experience* with some handymen-types here, that is impressive, to say the least.  

So yeah- it's February and real winter has finally set in. It's so cold and windy that I had to put a sleeping bag on the windowsill in my room to keep the plants from freezing. And I'm wearing everything I can get on and still move. And I'm just in the apartment. Looking through the window at the few people out there trying to navigate cured me of the urge to go anywhere.

So- babble much? I guess.

*Little T and I once were called by a frantic (sort of) male from our little team- Get over here as fast as you can. These clowns who are supposed to be doing the painting aren't working fast enough. We need to use this place for GUESTS next week and they're slow as molasses. So off we went. To paint. And sure enough, there were 2 handymen. Painting. Sort of. Reality was they took a 20 min smoking and tea break once an hour. I kid you not. We worked circles around them and they laughed at us. What do you want to get this done for so fast, they asked. There'll just be more to do after that. One of our team said to me He doesn't want to hurry up because he's out of the house and away from his wife while he's here. Well haha. We gotter done, thanks. And they got fired. 

Knocking on Closed Doors

or at least on one. One morning, someone phoned me on my old number- the one I use for mobile internet but not actual phone calls. So, since the volume to that one is seldom actually on, I never heard it. 

So then there's a gentle knock on my door and this meek little voice- Uh Anita? (D) would like to talk to you. 

I glance at my very quiet phone- the one that's for talking on. And shrug- OK- Coming.

But the door stayed like this:

firmly shut. And no amount of persuasion or wiggling helped. I've never much liked that glass and considered breaking it...briefly (WHY do you need glass in the doors of rooms INSIDE a house? Esp if someone SLEEPS on the other side. Yes, I should cover it.) N is looking at it from the other side and says- There's no way to get ahold of the latch thing from here. (And Yes, I called D back on my real phone. Had the conversation. Told my predicament. He said- Uh, do you want me to come let you out? Well- since that would take at least 3 hours, I don't guess so. And everyone seemed relieved at THAT!)

So I find an empty bucket on the balcony and a ball of twine. (3 cheers for the genius who decided to keep at least some of the tool-y stuff (twine qualifies, in my book) on the balcony instead of in the toolbox in the closet in the hallway on the other side of that crazy door.)

Off to the window I go with my bucket.

And wait. See that little figure? :) My hero!

I lower the bucket to her, she puts this in and I haul it back up.

And lay into that door knob from my side. 

And was free at last! (Only to discover that there were screws on the other side, after all.... heh. See- I knew there should be but apparently there was a lack of clarity in that bit of communication and not everyone involved understood what those screws were all about. Oh well- that door knob was dangerous. I mean- what if I'd been alone?? See then the glass would have had a problem.)

So the next time- maybe I'll say- Sure D, come help us!
Or at least- Um, could you go get a neighbor and see if he can help? I mean the kind of neighbor that knows all about screwdrivers and door knobs. Not the kind that sometimes wears a skirt.
Sorry. But sometimes.... it's true.

No Want Kiss U!

Did I ever tell you this story? The story about the little 3 year old boy who was cornered by a Big Older (WellNotThatOld) Lady? He was trapped in a corner as Big Older (WellNotThatOld) Lady closed in. Big Older (WellNotThatOld) Lady said- Come here I want to give you a kiss! Little Boy shrinks further into his corner and, in complete desperation shouts- I have a RUNNY NOSE!!
And No- he did not get kissed.
At least not that time.
And like little boys seem to do, he grew and grew and grew. I just looked him up on Facebook... he's in college. Oh my. And I remember him from when he was 3. (And no, Big Older (WellNotThatOld) Lady is not/was not me!) ;)

I needed this pic after wading through Google's new Terms of Service.  I don't pretend to even begin to understand most stuff about the web. And I know that it's nearly impossible, really, to make things completely private or to delete them once they're created and posted. But I'm not kidding- You'd better make sure your Google profile is where you want it. Those folks scare me more than Facebook. They seem even more intent than Facebook on making everything public UNLESS you specifically specify otherwise. (I keep both accounts because- Well, I do need to be in touch with people. And both sometimes work better than regular email for some people...especially people who change their email address more often than.... Than what? Than Ukrainian roads need potholes fixed? Than you sing in the shower?  Something like that. 

And while I'm at it- Be careful with what you put on your profile. Does everyone need to know what year you were born? Do they need to see your face tagged in every single picture? Does every stalker on the planet need to know your home address and telephone number? Or the names and ages of all your kids AND the school they attend? (A few years ago, Google CEO Eric Schmidt was quoted as having said: "If you have something that you don't want anyone to know, maybe you shouldn't be doing it in the first place. (this is a link, fyi)"  Of course, he's right. Duh. We need to be honest, upright, moral, etc etc etc. We need to be that for our own conscience's sake. We should all be concerned about THAT first and foremost NOT because of what Google or Facebook or LinkedIn or whatever will share with the public or government. BUT there are other reasons for guarding privacy fiercely. Identity theft. Stalkers. It's a long list, and does include the government and what exactly they'll do with your web search data- but you can fight about THAT one somewhere else. The point is- We Need To Be Careful. Because I doubt that Google or Facebook care about more than their own earning reports or bank accounts. They don't really care about your privacy. At. All.)
Just saying.

In other random news:

• In spite of being dead tired and wanting only to go to bed, I took a shower last night AND washed my hair (does every stalker on the planet need- or want- to know that?!?)- And this is a Big Deal why? Because there is no water anywhere in the city today (and tomorrow, we hear)- the twice annual cleaning of the water pipes has begun. Natalya went to the train station to buy tickets today and did find out that the bathroom there has water. But the hospitals don't; the university doesn't; we certainly don't. 
• Have you ever seen Orc Children? You know- Tolkien's little monsters. We had 2 hours on the train recently with some kids (age 0, maturity wise) who'd been for a tour of Western Europe. After watching them on the platform and hearing how they talked with their adult chaperones- I'm pretty sure they're Orc Children. I have Tolkien's Lord of the Rings as an audio book and some of them sounded exactly like the Orcs of Mordor. And were about as refined and polite and nice, too. I'm going to persist in my belief that not all kids that age are like that. Please please tell me I'm right. I mean- there are some MYP's I read about often who surely are NOT like that. (I guess someone knows what that's all about.) 
• Early fall was cold and unfriendly. No heat. Freezing temps outside. Much need for camel hair duvets. The past 2 weeks have been gorgeous. Warm. (And full heat in the apt- go figure). Gorgeous foliage. I'm sure it won't last. But it's been great! 

I'll leave you with a pic for evidence! :)

And no- that isn't my car. Not even close. I'd want a Hummer anyway, for the roads we cover. Uff.

Recent stuff on the net and things from my Google Reader starred list. (And when did I begin to use Reader? Well- I'm not quite sure but the first starred item is from April 18, 2007. Uh yeah- the digital closet needed cleaning.)
Chernobyl 27 years later The disaster itself happened April 26, 1986.

Cab drivers meet all kinds. And there are all kinds of cabbies. Here's a great story by a great cabbie from a Sept 2008 post I'd saved.

How about some double-mint stuffed Oreo cookies?

Or how about Reese's Overload (for sure) cake?

Along the food line but not so sweet this time- English Muffin bread. Is there any bread quite as yummy as an English Muffin? I think not. 

Alzheimer's prevention? Little Anecdote #1: My friend and cohort Lillian used to try to beat me to the crossword (and here's the thing- she was a lot older than me and I'd let her have first crack, usually). Do crosswords, she'd say. Prevent Alzheimer's. In 2000, I left the US and didn't see her again until the fall of 2005. By which time she no longer knew me and often didn't know what she'd just done. I've wondered since if she knew back in '97 that something was up. That there were things going missing. I still enjoy the crossword. Now if we only knew if Angry Birds or Words With Friends are good for keeping your mind active. The second one maybe. hmmm

Abandoned mansions from around the world. The first one's from Ukraine...which is basically why the article made it into this post (but stuff like this always catches my eye. There's the mansion down in Kentucky, visible from a major highway. The story, as I remember it: Rich Man builds it for his wife. Wife divorces him. Rich Man loses everything and isn't able to finish the 'house'. When I saw it, someone had fenced it and was pasturing cattle on the grounds. Right up to the house. Which truly was magnificent. That pic often comes to mind. How sad we humans can be sometimes.). Ukraine has quite a lot of old fortresses/castles/the likes. Unfortunately, the country has no idea, for the most part, of how to capitalize on this potential wealth of tourist dollars.

"A satirist is a man who discovers unpleasant things about himself and then says them about other people." (Peter McArthur- whoever he is) 

and this remodeled saying: "Give a man a fish, and you'll feed him for a day. Teach a man to fish, and he'll buy a funny hat. Talk to a hungry man about fish, and you're a consultant." (Scott Adams this time)

And another- from Mark Twain: "If you tell the truth you don't have to remember anything."

One way to figure out what to set the alarm for (this came in a newsletter):
The Best Part of Waking Up...

... Is Sleepyti.me, a Site That Maximizes Restfulness

We all wish for a little more shut-eye, but the truth is sleeping longer isn’t always better. Let us explain using Sleepyti.me, a barebones website that calculates the optimal time for you to go to bed or wake up depending on your current sleep schedule. But first, a quick science lesson. Sleep is broken up into 90-minute cycles, and it is much easier to wake up at the end of a cycle than in the middle of one. Hence, shortening your beauty sleep to accommodate this cycle actually leaves you feeling more rested. That’s where Sleepyti.me comes in. Tell it when you need to wake up, and it tells you when to fall asleep, counting backward in 90-minute increments. Skeptical? We were too. But in our tests it worked. Sleepyti.me can also work in reverse, helping you set your alarm if you are going to bed right now. In which case, you should probably get off the computer.

Last night

Yesterday was a busy day for us...in the afternoon. So, in spite of the fact that I had my cousins' bib numbers and had wanted to keep track of them as they ran the Boston Marathon, I really couldn't. By the time I could check on them via the Marathon's site, they were long done. They both did very well, finishing 1114 and 1632 (out of 23,336 who started, 17,580 who finished- honestly- I have rather a lot of runners on my mom's side of the family- (thankfully, it didn't infect me) and they are good and I knew it but I didn't know they were that good). They're both just barely in their 30's with families- little kids, one has a newborn- so I'm just really glad they are fast, that they are distance runners up to the race. Really glad.
Because by the time the finish line exploded, literally, they were on their way back to the Midwest and their homes with their families still intact.
A family friend was also running. And she's good and I've known it for a long time. She started the race about an hour after my cousins did. So when I finally got to my computer last night, I looked her up on the marathon site and found her. A little pink avatar running towards the city of Boston. Nearly there, actually. I did other stuff. Got ready for bed and thought- Wonder where A is now? I'll just check once more before shutting down for the night. And she was so close. Another 20 min, I thought, and she'll be there! Done! Who wants to go to bed now? I'm gonna watch her cross the line...or at least watch her avatar do that. So I read some other stuff and came back to the site every few minutes. And she was moving along. Had picked up her pace again and was at the Apple Store on the map*. What looked like about 2 1/2 blocks from the line. And then she just stayed there. And a thought flitted through my head- I hope nothing happened, hope she didn't get knocked over or something like that.
20 min later, she was still there. So I hopped onto facebook (love it or hate it, f/b last night was the meeting place, in the end, for all of us wanting to know just where and how A was). Of course, it took no more than a few seconds to realize that, in fact, 'something' had happened.
And from across the ocean, my blood pressure and heart-rate just went right up.
I read what was available online (not a lot) and waited. There was no more thought of going to bed. Should I have not checked once more? I don't know. Truly. But this family goes way back with our family. We were friends as kids; our parents were friends. We did Thanksgiving together- not every year but several times. She and Mom are 2 days apart in age. She came to see me just before I left the States, spent a night with us. We all reconnected. She's more than just an acquaintance, in the end, and knowing that she was in that group of as-yet-unaccounted-for people... I'll admit it- I was afraid for her, for her kids, her grandkids. I was wide awake and waiting, waiting, waiting. 
I didn't go to bed. I couldn't. Not then. There was a group of people commenting on f/b posts, trying to find her. The sister of the lady who, with her husband, was at the line waiting for her was 'there', too.
It took hours. I'm not just sure how long, 2 hours anyway, before there was, finally, a peep (on f/b) from her. And it was longer before the people looking for her finally got to her and before her kids were finally able to talk to her. And in the end, her danger was probably more from the toll the race takes on your body and then not being able to take care of those physical needs in a timely way than of actual proximity to the bombs.
From over here, I was impressed with how quickly there were websites up and running to track down people- both runners and spectators. But it's a chilling feeling to go on one of those sites and find a post for your friend made by her son but no news yet.

And really- I cannot comprehend the kind of person who could actually place bombs like that. We are in touch with humanity all the time; we see, maybe more than some, the saddest, the most discouraging things. And yet, this kind of thing- it is monstrous and incomprehensible. Regardless of how you feel about religion, about faith, about those kinds of things- the world really is full of people who couldn't do this kind of thing. But unfortunately, there are a few who apparently can. One article I read today called them cowards. And I would have to agree.

And I'm so glad that, in spite of being on track to finish her fastest marathon yet, she wasn't just a little faster this time.

*Zooming closer, I don't think she was actually quite there yet but that's what it looked like.

be nice

I've completely left off reading blogs, for the most part, except in spurts. And I'm not exactly sure why. It's not that the people who write them have become any less dear or important. 

And I notice that it corresponds to a serious decline in my own blogging. 

Tonight, though, I've been catching up...again... 

And found this on another blog: Be nice to everyone.  You never know what will happen in the years to come.  That little kid could some day be a spouse to one of your children.  He could have the open home you go to each week.  He could be the one that takes you from the nursing home to g.m.  You just never know!

That nice little life lesson brought back something from a few years back. (Have I told this story here already? Who knows? I'm going to make a fantastic old person- I'm already re-telling everything. By the time I'm 80, everyone will know all my stories- just go ahead and start numbering them now so you'll have a head-start...)

My T friend and I get a call one day. 

-Tanya's going to be in your town on (day) next week and she'd like to meet up with you.

-Do we know her? In fact- I know we don't know her. I don't know her.

-She knows you.

-How? She can't. I don't know her.

-Well she does and she'd like to see you.

-Ok. 

So Tanya has our number, we've got hers. 

The day arrives and we arrange to meet Tanya at a statue downtown. 

And we get there and are positive- We have never seen this girl nor do we know her. So what is going on?

So we ask. And she says- Well (2 weeks ago, let's say), I was in town and took the (4pm let's say) bus back north to my town and you were on it. I sat beside (my T friend, I think) and she slept all the way there and you (as in me) sat across from us and did crossword puzzles all the way (which was so spot on, it had to be true). 

And- LP was my English teacher a few years ago and I knew when I saw you that you were her friends.

Which dropped my jaw. Because, in fact, everything she said was true. LP was/is a very dear friend. 

And we had a very nice time with Tanya. And she stayed on our radar for quite a few years. But isn't there just now. I haven't heard from her lately. And I wonder what's happened to her. 

After we said good-bye that day, my T friend said- Thank goodness we weren't picking fights with the other passengers that day!! ;-)

But it truly is amazing how small the world sometimes is. And when you see people again. And when they see you again. And who they end up being. 

Here's to being nice.

And to behaving! :)

Just when you need it

I love to be in touch with people- always have. I wasn't always so aware of it, though. But one time, a friend said to me- I wish I could be a people person like you.
Which literally took my breath away. Because I'm shy by nature (at least I feel shy) and people can intimidate me fairly easily. But I also find people easy to love. And easy to be fascinated by.
Recently, I had a couple weeks in Estonia, waiting on a visa. A good friend's (Friend A) parents are there. And another friend's parents have a small studio apartment just down the road from the first couple. (The studio is often empty as it serves as a stop off place for many people, including the owners.) So, the sound of the studio apt sounded appealing and luxurious and 'ahhh- like a nice soak in a sea-salt-with-essential-oils-bath'. But it was already booked. And Friend A tells me that, truly, I'd be more than welcome to stay in his parent's guest room.
So, I book myself in there. And they were kind and gracious in their welcome. They met my flight. Took me home, fed me, tucked me in for the night, told me to sleep as much as I could (I was trying to sleep off a virus, actually).
And really, in spite of the fact that the studio apt really had sounded inviting (I like alone time sometimes) I was also looking forward to being with the other folks. Partly because their child is my good friend, of course, but also partly because, I realized, I really do love to be with people. I do.
And I find that rather amazing. Because I still think of myself as fairly shy and easily intimidated.

Anyway- here's the thing. Those 2 weeks with that couple- it was better than a 'nice soak in a sea-salt-with-essential-oils-bath'. We talked about anything and everything. We covered the funny, the sad, the serious, the painful, the happy, the encouraging. And I think I needed that more than I knew.
I wish you all the 'nice soak in a sea-salt-with-essential-oils-bath' when you need it! And I've noticed that I always get one when I most need it...whether I knew I needed it or not.

xo

What's Up?

Just in case you've been wondering what I've been up to the past few days. Cheshire-cat-grin
Turns out walking like a penguin (remember?) doesn't always work... oops (I trembled and shuddered and then giggled at those penguins.)

Oh my. The first time, ever, to have any kind of cheesecake in Europe with an actual honest-to-goodness graham cracker type crust. And hands down the best cheesecake I've had outside the US...at least in recent memory. Oh. My. Goodness. Gracious. Sugar. Free. (Not). Life.

My new secret don't-tell-anyone friend. Yikes.

Took a walk along the seashore this morning. Saw a ferry coming in but it was sort of not moving at all... I thought. So I left. 

Looked back about 3 min later and it had really snuck up on me! I wish I'd stayed put.

We also listened to the final of the Estonian English Speakers' Union public speaking contest for high schoolers in grades 11 and 12. The winner and runner-up will go to London later this spring. All 6 were excellent and had much better English-both comprehension and speaking- than my university English translation students back in Ukr. Oh Dear. The audience got to choose a 'peoples choice' winner and runner-up. The boy I voted for wasn't the most polished and his delivery actually lacked quite a bit, in comparison with at least 3 of the other 5. But, he spoke from personal experience about the power of forgiveness and how it will improve your life. Many of the others covered grandiose topics (like activism and getting involved in making the world a better place by helping the Syrian refugees). There was a time in my life when I was quite passionate about things and could have written and given (if not as well) one of those speeches. I feel now, though, that those things really are beyond our reach, are too often misused and will never make a dent, really. We can effect small (and sometimes big) changes in our own sphere, though and I was quite impressed with a teenager actually understanding that. And apparently the judges liked him, too, as he was the runner-up!

And furthermore, I don't really trust public speakers or speeches much anymore. The power of speech is artfully used to produce desired effects from a specific target audience. And always has been, I suppose. I really don't trust that kind of powerful speaking...

New Friends and Old

I was all checked-in and roaming around the back side of the airport...or the front side if you consider that all the plate glass windows are on that side. Small terminal, 1 place to get coffee, no place to get sandwiches, 1 place to get expensive drinking water but 3 places to get perfume, alcohol, tobacco and chocolates- and I see this little dude. With whom I fell in love back in Germany about 11 years ago. Oh my... and it's still yummy. My ear drums needed it on the flight, I can tell you. My poor virus affected underwater eardrums.




And then I was roaming a grocery store in Tallinn, Estonia, just to see what I could see. And I found this guy. Oh my. Almond and white chocolate granola bar. Take it from me, It is SOOO worth the calories!










I'm not sure this qualifies as a friend as I'm not all that fond of them, actually. But I was roaming another grocery store tonight when I realized I was looking at very familiar packaging. It put a grin on my face and made me feel sort of warm and fuzzy inside. Jelly candies from Roshen. Which is a Ukrainian confectionery. The best in the country as far as I'm concerned. And here they're selling it in Estonia! Mind you, Roshen chocolate is really where it's at. That stuff is so good, you'll never want Hershey's again if you get the chance to eat Roshen. Or at least that's what I think! ;)

ramble on

I have a bad habit of rolling through my day and thinking out mini blog posts (or emails or letters to friends, for that matter) and then never doing anything more than that.
So here's one from Dec.

- Do you know what a 'Фура' (Fura) is? It's a semi. Ever ridden in one? Probably some of you have. I hadn't- in spite of the fact that I know quite a few people who drive a big rig.
Hadn't. See, that's all in the past. Early Dec.
I was on my own, with a schedule. A regular round of visits and mtgs and buses and trains and such. And lots of bad weather. But that's a 'nother story. And I had a Fri night engagement in town 'L' and a train at midnight:40 in town 'Kh', an hour from town 'L'. No biggie, I think. L is on the main highway, lots and lots of traffic and lots of buses.
Can't buy a bus ticket, though, for anything after 7.30 pm. Odd.
No biggie. L is on the main highway, lots and lots of traffic and lots of buses.
Kids walk out to the road with me shortly after 8. We chat. We watch traffic (which is mostly 'фура's- huh). And we start to freeze. So I send the kids off home.
And wait.
And chat with a smattering of other people waiting. One woman informs me she's been there over an hour with nary a bus gone by.
huh
And we wait.
And freeze.
And wait.
And I'm wondering just how do I get down to Kh with no buses and nearly no cars.
One nice middle-aged man, the woman and I agree that if there's no bus by 10, we'll get a taxi from across the street at the bus station and split the cost.
And we do our best to flag down someone, anyone.
And Woman flags a trucker at (no kidding) 9.58.
And grabs me and hauls me up into the cab with her. And off we go.
Well- even in the dark, it's a great vantage point! I listen to Woman and Trucker talking. Woman is determined to share her entire life history. We make 'uh-huh' noises at appropriate times. And I begin to realize that she...uh...has no class at all. None. Zip.
But Trucker is a genuinely nice ordinary family-type of guy.
He doesn't, however, drop us off in town...as I'd oh-so-naively thought he would. Oh no. Trucks take by-passes. I didn't even know Kh HAD a by-pass. It does. It goes on forever and ever and ever.
2 km ON THE OTHER SIDE of Kh at 11PM, he dumps us off on a traffic circle. Sigh.
The ride cost a cough drop...he had a sore throat. :)
So now all we have to do is hitch a ride back INTO town...
It's foggy. And sure enough still cold.
We wait and wait and flag and wait.
(And find out later that it's illegal to stop on a traffic circle...no wonder the cops kept circling that one. For about 15 min. Creeps. No, they didn't stop to try to help us...just kept waiting for someone to stop and pick us up...which no one was dumb enough to do.)
The cops leave and about 2 min later a car stops. Woman tears off to talk to them and I grab the bags. And we nearly collide as I approach and she backs up fast. And says- I'm not sure we want to ride with them. And I think- If SHE doesn't want to, I sure don't want to.
And we wait another 5 min or so. A car stops- 2 guys and a woman. Going to the train station. Yay! We pile in and sail off into the foggy night.
They took about $2.50 for safe passage to the train station.

And that is the story of my ride in a фура. Which I enjoyed. But likely won't repeat.