And 1 more

This is why it's just a good thing I rather enjoy cleaning...this is a small part of the reason..these pix are...whew. I guess it's time to get to work. We are a prep crew of 3 for now: Uncle Bill, Sharon and I. Little A has been here helping B; he left today for other parts; not-so-little V comes next week. We shall try to post more pix...later.

Oh yeah- and T is the only female up at her preps- how do you like that? All I can say is, I'm glad there's 2 of us here.

Caviar and cream cheese

We found this stuff that is just about exactly like Philadelphia Cream Cheese- just not quite as sweet. It is super yummy on crackers- makes you wish you had some decent bagels to go with it... Annette, do you still make bagels? I should try the recipe...some day... The weird part is that Trude likes to build her canapes like this: cracker, cream cheese...and THEN a layer of caviar *gasp* (I can't stand the stuff). It makes her do funny things... I think you can figure out which pic is which... (The caviar is complements of TC, who knows what to do to keep things friendly- like: Oh, you proly have room for some of this for T in your bag- I know she really likes it. She & EL send Mountain Dew to me, fyi...) :)

Misc

from the last few weeks

See what Simona brought back from Romania for me?!?! Hint: it wasn't the cheesecake or the furniture with the little boy... :) Now, we're waiting for the tummy and esophagus to totally heal before indulging in so much Dew...I did have a tiny bit (literally- 2 days I had a juice glass) before leaving for preps- but the rest will keep till later. Sort of big fat reward on a hot day when you need more courage. :)

Then there was the cheesecake Anya made- she's a 1st rate cheesecake maker, by the way. Uses the farmer's cheese here and wings it...and it turns out pretty close to the stuff we know and love in the US... Here, it's doused with raspberry jam- well, T's is doused, mine is drizzled...

And the other pic? We finally got down to see Oksana and Baby Sofika- ooooo- she's a dolly. You'll have to take my word for it though, cause I got nary a pic...:( Anyway, the last pic is of her totally adorable 4 year old nephew peeking around the door at us... He has a gorgeous little sister, too- all blond curls. And lispy... The little guy warms up to you after you play tractor with him...T found that out. Friends For Life.

packing

Karla just posted her packing pic- here's mine. It still seems sort of funny to me that she's on special mtg rounds just as we start preps. Anyhooo- here's the evidence that something was about to happen. Stuff everywhere- I sort of deleted the worst pix before the sort of got posted- just couldn't do it. Not as brave as some people...but it was a real disaster, believe me. So, squeezed stuff for the next 6 weeks into a mere (I really hope that word registered...let me repeat: MERE) 3 bags and pulled out of there. Yup. The big plus: the train was (sit down, take a breath... Ready?) the train was *air conditioned*...hahaha...ahhhhh... That helps a person sleep at night... ;)

Waiting

for updates on Indiana tornado damage. No loss of life, but at least one family lost their home. Heart goes out to G and C and family.

Thurs afternoon: No more word on the storm and damage, but I did find a link for an aerial tour of the Moscow area where several families sustained losses.

Sun eve: No more word, other than the email that many have gotten- Thanks to everyone whe sent that on. Lots and lots of clean-up and rebuilding to do.

rainy day

Wed was a quiet day- saw A in the evening. T is leaving for her home visit in about 1 1/2 mo's, so she's sorting, pitching, packing and writing letters like a mad woman. I could be doing any of those things, too- but the urge didn't really grab me. Instead, I took a look around the apt. There's a better than even chance (what does that mean, anyway- sounded fitting here, at any rate) that we'll be leaving this city sometime in the next couple months, meaning there will be sorting, pitching, packing to do on a grand scale. I've been thinking about that for awhile and NOT buying up stuff in advance like usual- the freezer is nearly empty, no extra kleenex boxes around, stuff like that. Well, I took a look at the 'phone booth'- aka the hall closet which doubles as a pantry. Here it is:

There are some things here we could use up if we half tried.

If a person did a bunch of baking, *boom*, all at once, they could take stuff like cookies to preps with them instead of struggling away trying to do it there. I chose chocolate chip and Aunty B's molasses cookies (my favorites) and one other thing....

Forgot to put this on and dove in (see, that apron was my 'welcome to WI' gift from C&C K about oh 40'leven years ago (or 11) and since I'm hopelessly sentimental, I'll proly still have it when I'm 100... (or 70- not sure I want to live to be 100... that's sort of beside the point, I guess.)

So here we are. (That cup in the background? That's my Earl Grey tea- a great comfort in the absence of coffee- actually, a great comfort, period.)

From a distance- in case you wondered what the kitchen sort of looks like. Aside: in spite of what SOME people think, this is a great apt- largely because this kitchen is one of the largest, roomiest, easiest-to-work-in I've been associated with here; most kitchens are microscopic in comparison.

in the oven- the oven is... ummm... very special... not exactly the heartiest part of this kitchen...but it's an oven. It has an 'imported-from-Amer' oven thermometer in it, so you can cope with it (you may able to get them here now, who knows?)

Chocolate chip- if I have time, I'll do more, since we are so blessed with chips (all imported from AZ, I might add! Thanks, Reta! The gift that keeps on giving!)

Aunty B's molasses cookies. aside #2: if anyone reading this is in the Indy/Kokomo area and sees Aunty B in her Carmel digs, please pass this message on to her from me: I love you, I don't write to you nearly often enough, I miss you, I hope your cat is still purring loudly. Thanks for sharing this recipe with me. Sending hugs- me

And one more thing (besides lunch and supper) came out of the kitchen today.... can you guess what this is? Like, our all-time favorite...

:) yup...

I *heart* Rice Krispies (No, Reta, these are not AZ marshmallows and krispies... those are long gone! These came from Lebanon, of all places... and are destined to live a very short life... like maybe 24 hours... maybe)

update

I've had various conversations with people the past few days- and someone told me today: You need to update your blog because everybody's wondering if you're still alive.

Point well taken. Yes, in fact, I am still alive... and feeling a LOT better. 10,000 percent, approximately. Although, just getting out of Chernivtsi (that's where the dr visit happened) helped tremendously. I'm watching my diet- small meals and no coffee (avoiding spicey stuff, too) and taking my meds. And having a hard time remembering to take them, so that should be an indication, I guess, of how I feel.

An interesting note: since this happened, I've been amazed at how many people have had the same thing done. Literally every 2nd or 3rd person. And some have had it more than once. So, is this that common in the States, too? I do know that Heliobacter pylori (bacteria that causes ulcers) is a problem here because of sanitation issues (that was a BIG part of why I didn't want to have the procedure here at all- when you don't know if the instrument has even been properly cleaned, you hate to see it go down into your gut and add to the problem).

We had a really nice time with the folks up north- the whole thing was therapeutic. I have pretty deep emotional ties to that field, since we were there every weekend my first year here (there were only contacts down our way, so we went up there). I'll see if I can find a pic or 2 from the weekend.

this isn't from this weekend, but this is who we stayed with Sun night... and who we crashed in on at 3 am Sat. They're soon leaving. In fact, Laura-the-Western, in answer to your Q, they leave here this Fri... or Sat. I get so easily confused.

These next 2 are sort of far away- that was baseball in Ukr with a volleyball net in the way.

We did volleyball later; we're so athletic...it was rather hilarious. Well, the kids aren't too bad, actually. T's a good pitcher.

cheese with honey through the ear

That's what Trude said my doctor's report says.

Ever since coming here, I've had a certain terror of sometime needing to go to the doctor. This has been fueled by what I've seen when accompanying others to the doctor/visiting them in the hospital. Things I've seen: dogs and cats off the streets wandering the hallways of "nice" hospitals and clinics; patients slipping doctors money to ensure better treatment; catheters draining into used Coke bottles; poor lighting; general disrepair, questionable sanitation and lack of good equipment.

Weds, we left the bache to start a round of visits- the last before preps. That night, I had an 'incident'- really bad pain between my stomach and esophagus. Mrs Contact-lady where we were staying fed me warm tea and it subsided. (She also chatted away for about an hour while we waited for the thing to pass- and in the course of the visit informed me that it would be a lot easier for me to serve God if I were married...which I mention only because it's the first time I've heard that one and because I'm going to refer to it at the end.)

Thurs, more visits- really nice; but also another very frightening episode- pain so strong that it actually radiated out across my chest and made it hard to breathe. If I didn't have chronic stomach trouble, I probably would have panicked and thought I was having a heart attack. As it was, I was pretty scared. Called Sharon A, a nurse- they just happened to be visiting their doctor contact so she told me what to ask for at the pharmacy- and that calmed stuff down. Next am, I still have pain, esp when swallowing. We hit the road for more visits because I'm indecisive- what to do? T tracked down the # of a doctor up north whose wife and dau have been in touch for a few years and he has taken a personal interest in us. He's a big-shot in the area, which certainly doesn't hurt. His advice: the next city, get out and go see a dr there. I start a quiet panic but realize he's right. We get sent to Central Hospital, where they're all excited about having an Amer patient- I used to think we're no different than their reg patients, but I now know otherwise- I'm a wimp; they're not.

I get my own little 'Dobby-the-house-elf' to lead me around and she makes it her job to carry my 'medical records'- which are nothing more than half-sheets of paper with doctor scribbles on them. Doctor #1 actually makes me wait my turn- a good sign, in my mind- he's a good person. Dobby is a bit disappointed. Unfortunately, this means I have to stand outside the exam room and wait- which is a big room with 1 cot in the middle and about 6 or 8 chairs backed up to the walls with a stool in front of each. These are patient exam chairs- everyone is done in the same room by a team of doctors, the door's open and you can see and hear it all- which meant I got to watch some miserable pre-teen girl have something irrigated (sinuses, I reckon)- until I got smart (when I saw blood- that'll put me on the floor in no time flat) and quit watching. My turn comes- Dr #1 pokes and prods around my mouth and upper esophagus until he's satisfied that, indeed, the prob is further down- at one point he takes gauze and grabs my tongue, pulling it as hard as he could in order to see better. See, we used to do this to dogs at the vet clinic, after they'd been tranquilized, mind you- and just before we intubated them for surgery. He tells Dobby to take me to have either an x-ray or a scope done- whichever technician we can find- it's fairly "late" (2pm) and they've maybe gone home already- likely the xray doctor is who we'll find. So away we go. She nabs a doctor in the hallway (I've made up my mind that there will be no scope- I don't trust the hygiene and I want some sort of drug with mine; having sort of lived through DeAnn's upper GI procedure in Poland where they don't use anesthetic, I'm fairly certain they won't here either and I don't even want to think about that...) So, Dobby has caught me another Dr- in we go. He listens to my sad tale and reads the report from Dr #1, nods his head, hollers at his assistant to set up the machine. I get puzzled when they ask me where my towel is. Umm, I don't have one. For a full 2 min, it seems as though the whole thing will be abandoned for lack of a towel- they DO NOT HAVE a simple clean towel...not one. I remember that Trude and my backpack are in the waiting room and there's a towel in there- Dobby returns in a flash with my washcloth. Everything's happening really fast now- the assistant- who could be a linebacker for the Colts or the Pack...or both- has squirted something down my throat- which puzzles me- but here's Dobby with my wash cloth- I cuddle it- I'm just feeling really insecure by now- and they make me lie down on my side and tip my head up. I should have run. The next thing I see is Dr #2 with a long black snake looking thing and metal mouthpiece which I have to bite. Oh- and they made me put my washcloth under my mouth on the cot. Mind you, they've said nothing to me about what they're going to do, just tell me Do this, Do that...and being rather- rather what? I don't know- rather wimpy? Scared? Cowed? Whatever- I do it. And the next thing I know, I'm in the middle of an Upper GI scope procedure- and I'm truly panicking and flailing around. The Linebacker has me pinned down in such a way that I can't escape but I manage to move enough that they stop, spray more junk down my throat and go again- all of this was done in a very aggressive, very determined fashion and I'm in such a state that I can't do anything but make it worse. When it was finally over, they left and I sat on the cot with my knees under my chin, face in my hands sobbing and shaking and feeling like a complete fool and baby. I'd managed to throw up around the scope all over my washcloth and sweater. They gave me 2 min, then Linebacker said, Ok- you're fine, get up. So I did. And I had to collect my purse and washcloth and shoes and maneuver out of there and then pay the man and then follow Dobby back to the admitting room- T looks at me and I can tell I look bad by the look on her face. Dr #2 told me my esophagus was very inflamed about 20 cm down all the way to and into my upper stomach. I needed to go back to some other Dr who'd tell me what meds I needed. The admissions people had no idea who else I needed to see, no one could read Dr#2's writing; they instruct Dobby to take me back to Dr#1- who seems like an angel by now- maybe he can figure it out. After a hunt and a wait (during which I found a mirror and looked- interesting- the lower half of my face is totally broken out in what looks like hives- and in fact, it's only gotten marginally better- I said, must be either a reaction to the medicine or my total panic- T says, can't be the last or it'd always be that way- which brings a needed laugh)- here comes Dr #1- he takes me into the common Jr Dr office- and 3 of them try to figure out what the other Dr had written and to puzzle out what I should be taking as far as meds. They name one thing (Milk of Magnesia- which tastes really good to me just now- so I must have a problem- I hated that stuff as a kid) and then say Come back tomorrow for a barium xray and ultrasound and consultation. But in my mind, I'm thinking Nope, you've seen the last of me. They turn me over to Trude, we grab a cab and 20 min later are at the train station, T's bought tickets and is buying yogurt, bananas and whatever she can find. We flee. Literally. Phone Uncle D- who's been waiting to hear, by the way. So, in typical Uncle D fashion, he welcomes us to his city for as long as we need to stay. No asking Why didn't you see it through there? Just- come on up. I'm still sort of falling apart from time to time, so while T makes up our beds, she has me call everyone she can think of- all the cancelled plans people, Dima- where we'd made arrangements to stay should we miss the train, so that they won't worry anymore. And also Fred and Sally, since we'll be arriving at their apt at about 3.20 am. Well, hearing her Mom-voice (and then later F's Dad-voice) that undid me. Which brings me back to this: I don't need a husband to serve God- I just need some Moms and Dads- and that was promised and I have them- so I think I'm just fine, Thank You Very Much.

So- we've mostly calmed down again. I am well aware that part of my problem was definitely the fear I had going into it- but you know what? I seem to be hard-wired to panic...sometimes, it seems there's nothing I can do about it. Believe me, I would have preferred it otherwise- Be strong, take it like a real woman, blah blah blah...but that sort of seems out of reach for me. T said last night, Next time tell them you want that with Narcotics. (She meant to say "Narcoze"- which means anesthetic- but I think narcotics would certainly work.)

Called the big-shot doc up here this am- told him everything they'd said down south. I could hug him- he said: Unless you feel worse you don't need to see any more dr's; go get this med, take it for 10 days. What you have is no big deal, it'll pass and in 5 days' time you should be feeling a lot better. Shortly after that, Maria called- the weather's gorgeous, we're working outdoors- come spend the night with us please. So, here we are- at the grounds where the sun shines extra brightly and the kids are all home plus Tanya from down south, there's a kitten and fresh strawberries and life is great! T's recovering from taking care of me by running around barefoot outside taking pix and playing with the kitten.

Ps- not counting meds, the whole thing yest cost (ready? This is the only good thing about it): $18. Prices have sky-rocketed here the past year or so- but med care is still pretty cheap...and I can see why.

lupine

These are outside the girls' dorm where we were Thurs. They were beautiful when we were there.

Speaking of- Sveta is on her way Mon. She has some contact info. I'm sending her a pic of Maja if I can get to a digital copy. She's armed with a pic that has both me and her in it to prove that she isn't a scammer. :)

Cute kid

He was being a brat in the store but too cute not to smile at. At the cash register, he and his mom were right in front of me- he was fussing and his mom said, We'll give the nice auntie (me) our chocolate cookies. She wants them- which earned me a scowl from him. It was kind of fun to chat with him a bit then and tell him they were his but he should be good. He was all eyes and ears. Parenting is a 'It takes a village' think here, often. They'd locked their other stuff and his dump truck up in a locker which they got out as they left the store- he was ecstatic- and promptly ran off pushing it ahead of himself down the sidewalk.

On the way home I saw something I'd have liked to take a pic of but just couldn't. A woman with gray hair, bobbed and permed at the ends, no real eyebrows but painted-on ones, for sure- they started just above her nose, arched up and then swept out clear to the sides of her head...amazing. She was wearing a bridesmaid-type white dress with heels. As I drew even with her, I saw she had no teeth. She was mumbling to herself but looked exceedingly happy. She drifted off through the knee-high grass and weeds in a sort of dancey way. Now, I won't speculate just what was with her, but she was interesting. There was a group of kids that just stopped everything to watch her...I wanted to, but continued on to the apt.

Getting to know Dad

Tonight, I said to Trude: Do you know what might happen this year- soon- for the first time in 30 years? (She was busy with her own stuff at the time, I should mention.) Umm Nooo she says in what I can only describe as an "I-honestly-couldn't-care-less-right-now-either" voice. Well this year a horse might actually win the Triple Crown I say happily. Oh she says What usually wins it? This is where I realize that we're in uncharted waters here. But- Hey! I like to tell you stuff. I like to explain about the Kentucky Derby, The Belmont Stakes and The Preakness; I'd enjoy talking about 3 year old colts, about Big Brown, about Kentucky horse farms and horse baby sitters and on and on. It's a big business. It's breathtaking. I could happily chat for hours. I launch my talk-boat and look at T. And the look on her face is exactly the same one I used to give Dad when he'd get going on his latest favorite topic. An And-this-is- important-to-me-WHY? look. And I stopped. Reigned in my horses. Sighed. And thought Well it'll be just fairly cool if Big Brown pulls it off. I must be in trivia-chatter-spew mode today because we already had the Did-you-know-Kobe-Bryant-speaks-Italian? conversation today...which was big news to her.

Well, we're also talking about other stuff- important stuff. We're spending the night tonight with some acquaintances of acquaintances. First time to meet them. Interesting people.

Go Big Brown! (My dad knows who he is and who Eight Belles is; Dad knows Indy 500 trivia, too. I'm his daughter.)

laugh of the day

Last week when I was in Poland, we got to talking about funny stuff online and whatnot- I told TC I'd send her this link- and then promptly forgot. So, I'm just going to post it here. Likely a lot of you have seen it, but it's pretty cute. I'm a bit skeptical, though, that it's unscripted...they play their parts too well.

Also this one and this one came up. They've been around awhile, some have been blogged by other people; they're all funny.

Race Day!

Trude and I had a tail-gate party at the Vinnytsya train station in honor of the Indy 500. No alcohol, though. Just waiting for the train...and doing a bit of people-.watching.

End of the path

These are right by the entrance to the ''courtyard" of our apartment building.

Mario!

It's race day in IN!! I know- it's really Memorial Day. But it's race day, too! And this pic is for my little sis- Who is this, Gina? I guess I gave it away already. So, stay away from the West side of Indy today (Ps- I know where you can pitch a tent, skip mtg and go watch the race...or not- that is for Roger W who proly doesn't even read this).
Have a good day Everybody!

Hetmen, gladiators and massage

T & I just joined forces again. When she was on her way over here, she made some sort of statement about just having had half a course of back treatments and not wanting to mess up the good that had been done by hauling around my bags...which made no sense to me whatsoever. That could be because my back hurt right then and I sort of got stuck on the half-a-course-of-treatments bit and being consumed by jealousy. Maybe.
Well, enter Little T. Off we go to see Anya. Lesya's there. She's moaning about her back. I really need to go see Pan Taras, she says. (aside: Pan is the Western Ukr/Polish term of respect, sort of like Mr, for men.) I do a little digging and discover that Pan Taras lives 1 street over and does therapeutic massage. More chit chat. Anya calls the Pan...and next day, 10.30 and 11 am we have appts.
Let me just disillusion you right here and now about this massage business. You're proly imagining tea lights, soft music, muted colors and falling asleep while some magician vaguely, gently tickles your neck. HA! Pan Taras is short and squat with thick stubby (but mercifully callous-free) fingers. He religiously smokes a cigarette before each massage. He can break boards with his bare hands...piles of bricks...reinforced cement...rebar... He don't use martial arts tricks, neither. He does it all with his fingers. And he thinks my back is a pile of bricks. Yup. And he is taming that pile of bricks. He is all business.
So picture being stretched out on a cot with him gleefully, jubilantly mauling the skin and muscles of your already painful back and neck. He smells like a mixture of cig smoke and muscle cream. There's a talk show playing on the radio (my session was to the accompaniment of a host and politicians fighting- and an old grandma bawling them all out). Trude came out with her eyeballs knocking around in their sockets, tears streaming down her face and saying, Anya says he made Lesya's back bleed. (I'm thinking it's a fine time to be telling me all this now.) I'm pretty sure he was trying to move all my muscles and bones to some other spot of my back. It hurt the first day. The 2nd time I could just barely stay long enough for him to do his 30 min maul. It hurt to sit. It hurt to lay down. It hurt. T says It's like raw hamburger with a sunburn.
Then we left for the weekend...gingerly. We left gingerly. 2 hours after the massage. It really was amazing to wear a backpack, let me tell you.
Well, so far, neither of us has bruising. And, my back feels a lot better- like better than it has for days...weeks...a long time. Tomorrow, we go back for session 3. (Pan promised that session 2 was the worst, so this should get pretty much ok now, right?) Anyway, I think he does know what he's doing. Right now, I have to go make lunch. But first of all, I have to go get my back off the line where it's hanging out. Excuse me.

she's hiding in me

I just wish she'd get busy and clean. Fawkes is really getting bogged down.

the infamous tag

6 random things

-starfish officially freak me out- this is a relatively new development in my life. I never ever want to meet that bugger on the street. Never. chances are, I won't. whew.

-my room is a cosmic bank. I was wondering what the deal was. Now I know.

-I don't have hip waders. But if this rain doesn't stop soon I'm going to need some.

-Every time I think I have it rough, I find out that Sure enough, someone's got it worse. It has never been otherwise. I don't just mean these kids either. Just in general. I have an amazing life.

-There's a photographer on my Indiana photostream rss feed who calls himself 'nutterbutter'; every time every time I see one of his (her?) pix, I consider becoming a Nabisco spokesperson.

-All my electronic gadgets are named for characters from Lord of the Rings and Harry Potter. Currently Fawkes, Pippin, Pigwidgeon and Tom Bombadil are the main e-players in my life.

Technically I'm supposed to tag 6 people to do this as well- but I'm just going to say that if you read it you're tagged. Ha. And if you don't have a blog and want to post your list in the comments, that's A-OK by me.

Guess where I am?!

I am back in Ukr. Uncle D left -it up to me whether or not to just try coming back as we have been the past 2 years, since I had no problem at the border when I left. And so I did. And so here I am! Even the officials don't quite know what their laws mean... It's no wonder we don't. So, for the next 3 months, I'm good. I'm sure I'll need something more official for next time... But at least I have time to get it taken care of.

And to all of you who sent greetings to Ian: he was sitting there grinning as I got them and passed them on. He's still smiling!

road repair and slippers

Coming back to the bache the other day, this is what I saw.
There have been major holes in the driveway area approaching the building... like cars all look like they're being driven by drunks as they veer left and right trying to avoid the holes. A common 'fix' is this- someone has ripped out tile- off of a wall? off of a floor? don't know, but the chunks of cement attached to the back of the pieces of tile are sizeable. They take this tile and break it up and fill in the holes... there you go. Smooth as silk... as a sea of glass... almost.

Then, zipping through the supermarket 2 seconds from Fred and Sally's, getting trip food, I screech to a halt on my way to the cash register... Look at these slippers! I just sort of fell in love with them (and I needed new ones- mine are tattered; although NOT shedding chunks of sole yet, *cough cough*); they had my size, my color... those are my feet in 'em! And, they're cool- the soles are cork- as Trude says- when you're feet want to stink, this great natural material won't pass the stink on... or something like that... in other words, they don't make your feet stink...

howdy

The trip over here to Poland Weds night was one of the least eventful ever. There was no fine for being in 90-day violation (that's complicated to explain- some have been hit with it, some not; why? because no 2 officials seem to be enforcing the law (that none of them understand to begin with) the same way; of course, we're not trying to be in violation-but when you can't figure out what the law even means- when your embassy can't figure it out- it's hard to know if you're in violation...anyway- upshot of the matter- I had no problem whatsoever. zip. zero. none. Yay)! The only thing that happened at all: it's about 1 am, I'm dozing all alone in my compartment, door is open because we're in the middle of Polish passport control; there's a guard with a contraband-sniffing dog roaming the hall. That dog zips right into my compartment and sniffs my face- had I moved, I'd have met a wet nose...this is a bit disconcerting- big German Shepherd and all business, after all- but his handler yanked him out of there so fast he proly still has whiplash.

Our wagon was at the very end of the train- this was the view out of the back window early Thurs am. note- I really love the look of early morning... I just wish it happened at say 10 am or something.

So, Tammy and I have had a pleasant 2 days. Had the study yest eve with Fergal and the boys (Suz and Beth are home for a reunion- hope to see them tomorrow.) En route to the study, I missed a great Kodak moment. A lady about my mom's age got off of the metro pushing... a lawnmower... uh-huh- that's right. I guess she had to get it home some way; somehow you just don't expect to see lawnmowers on the metro (Lindsay, this is for you- how are you, by the way?). After the study, Fergal and the boys, T and I went to TGIFriday's for supper! Yay!!!!

Tammy and I split some sort of turtle dessert...it was completely worth the calories... yessiree. Here's a blurred shot of T's (I cropped her out of it since I'd like to remain friends for a few more days; that is her hand though). Got some really great ones of F and the boys mastering their desserts...but here again- in the interest of friendships lasting, maybe I'll refrain. Tomorrow.... well, we'll try to get some shots tomorrow!

This am, we met Eleanor at the airport. (no shots of that either... friendship, My Dear, friendship.)

And, tomorrow? Tomorrow, we should be seeing this character... ha- let friendship endure in spite of pix, right? ;) (It's a decent pic, right? so, no biggie...)










Adios!

oops

Just realized I forgot the pic for the last post. Here it is... Read below for details.

By the way

The lady made it with about 2 min to spare. And in those 2 min, she stood with her back to the train, casually chatting. She's either completely cool or crazy.

Pic is of some unlucky person's car getting towed out of a No Parking Zone in downtown Lviv. Well, just the tow-truck is visible. On the front of the truck is the word "evacuator". I just love that the Ukrn word for tow-truck is evacuator! Would you like your car evacuated? Something bad is sure to happen to it if it stays there. Come on now... don't be scared. Trust me. It'll be much safer with the other cars in the impound lot...and happier.

Odds & ends

while I wait for my train.

Spent the afternoon of Mother's Day in the company of this mother- Anya's cat. I think this is the same cat that was once briefly adopted by the girls. Trude and somebody (don't remember who) noticed signs of a mouse in the bache. They borrowed A's cat. Kitska didn't really cooperate and was taken home again. Later, they realized the "mouse" was... a RAT. I'm just glad I wasn't there.

Train for Poland leaves in 35 mins. I'm outside in the sunshine on a bench right beside the tracks. A woman arrived about 15 min ago- all in a panic . Dumped her gargantuan suitcase on another bench and began to frantically root through it. (Here's a good place to note something about a lot of people here- they can have huge bags- or small- but they're often only half full. I don't know how they manage. Really, they should be fined for wasting space. No matter where I.:, go, no matter for how long- I always manage to fill every single nook and cranny of every single bag...remember the laundry I quick did after getting my big fat NO answer yesterday? It's in the corners of my computer case.) Anyway- the woman. She left her passport at home... and she's got a ticket for Warsaw, too. Oops. Big oops. She just peeled out of here with a taxi driver. She's going to be really REALLY lucky to make the train. I'm getting heartburn for her. Not to mention the shakes.

Speaking of shakes. Have you ever had coffee made by the amazing Sally, wife-of-Fred? I did. Today. Two big mugs. Come to think of it, maybe that's why I have the shakes. It's even better than coffee made by me- where better=stronger. Sure was good, though. The best part about it? I got to drink it while Sally sat across from me drinking hers! Yes- she and Fred are fine. And it was great to see them again. Thanks, F and S!

Ok- train should be here in about 5 min. *waves good-bye*

Waiting For Alex

In the park.

And now in the Vice-rektor's office. Yesterday I met the sweetest little old man here. His name is Bob. He's a Fullbright scholar. He's from Davenport, IA. Know anyone from there?
What's up now? I'm getting the run-around, that's what's up.

update (1 pm): The answer is NO! So there. Without an official organization backing me, I cannot be associated with their university. So- I'm doing laundry, seeing Anya once more and then on my way to Poland. There is one more option from there that we'll try; since my nerves are involved and since this blog is officially my therapist and pacifier- I'll be keeping you informed, likely! There are some pluses to this: I get to see Fred and Sally tomorrow (Yay!!! see it was looking like I wouldn't see them at all during the time they were here); I get to have some time with Tammy and Eleanor next door.