The sun is gaining on us, four minutes a day right now, it's the week before lent, post, time for Malenitsa. I wish I had a picture of Mrs. Issakov at the stove with her four doll-house sized iron skillets she uses specifically for blini. Traditionally we are suppose to dress in folk costumes, sing and parade around a straw "Lady Maslenitsa," visit family and friends on specific days, (in-laws one day, god parents the next) go for Troika rides, make bonfires (tossing in the Lady Maslenitsa on the last day), eat up all the meat and dairy in the house using blini as a vehicle, and have fist fights. You can run from some of it, but you can't hide from the blini. They are serving them in the Embassy cafe.
Prost post.
twenty-something years of "what have you been up to?" 
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