twenty-something years of "what have you been up to?"

Category: moscow life

  • ambassasor’s christmas party

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    Christmas party at your Ambassador's residence in Moscow. Wow, the place is stunning. Nice enough to entertain Reagan, Nixon, Kissinger, and have Prokofiev perform. If the walls could speak, they'd be saying, keep Stefan's chocolate covered fingers off of me. We had Russian folk dancers in one ball room, a pianist in another, treats galore, Santa, the Russian version of Santa, and a coat check room the size of our apartment. It was okay.

    I'm suffering a little because I can't get my Nikon D80 to function properly. My baby! So I'm doing everything with the iPhone, which is amazing, but limiting. I'm hoping it's the Nikon's battery. Stay tuned for better pictures, someday. It's why I'm taking so long setting up picture-a-day Moscow, I need the good camera.

    I am gainfully employed! You are lookin' at the Embassy newsletter editor/designer/slave-to-the-CLO/queen.

  • red square kids

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  • bread and apples

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    Usbeki-style bread anyone? Who knew what we were living without? A five minute walk from out house is a row of kiosks, we go to one to buy fruit and veggies, and right next to it is this place selling the bread. They are about 45 cents each and are cooked in a wood-burning oven. When you buy them from the little window–you can see the woman behind Camille placing her order–they are usually too hot to hold.

    I made an apple crisp today too.

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    Just when I'd gotten rid of the last box, the contents of the coat closets from Portland arrived. Also the piano. Back to arranging and unpacking.

  • ice rink, St Basil’s, Christmas tree, Kremlin

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    Today was a hot chocolate in Red Square kind of day.

  • good excuse for eating gum drops

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    After seeing the gingerbread houses at the German Christmas Bazaar I had to make one. It was a three day process, what with the making of the parts and the drying of the royal icing, and then having to make more royal icing because I didn't make enough the first go around. Camille says she wants to learn to make royal icing so she can make a batch to just eat. At decorating time, she would rather watch the American Music Awards, oh well. Stefan and I had a good time decorating it and maybe even a better time eating gum drops. 

    Our gingerbread houses always look like a cheap Southeast Portland rental inhabited by overly cheery people.

    A few years ago we labored over a gorgeous gingerbread house in the back yard at my sister's house, (another year it was beautiful and warm in Northern California at the end of November.) After we finished we went in the house to wash our hands and the dog got up on the picnic table and ate the whole thing. 

    Now back to my regularly scheduled program of unpacking the studio/office room.

  • dreamy

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    Sound it out, the big word on the cover of the Bolshoy Ballet's program, move your lips to each Russian letter: Giselle. Also, it's not black nail polish, it's very dark red. The older I get, the more my hands look like my dad's. Oh well.

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    At the theater, before the performance, have a glass of Russian champagne.

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    Small theater at the Big Theater.

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    The ghosts of the second act of Giselle. I'd never cried at a ballet before…it was otherworldly. Must go buy more ballet tickets.

  • domashnia robata ruskie | russian homework

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    Between, Dina, Camille and Stefan, Stefan's is winning the Learning Russian race by a mile.

  • a weekend to remember

    Aside from the already described encounters at the grocery store and mall, Dina and I stayed up super late Friday night looking up guitar music on the internet, playing guitar and drinking wine. We laughed and laughed, and were surprised that when we went to bed it was 2:00 in the morning.

    On Saturday morning, I walked to the farmer's market, a billboard showed the temperature at -3 degrees celcius. We had invited one of my doctors and his wife and kids over for Sunday brunch. Dina made Milla's current scones and pumpkin muffins served with fruit salad and Russian tea.

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    That night, was the Marine Corps ball (233 yrs. old). Dina wore a beautiful strapless dress with high heeled shoes and pearls. So pretty. For a moment, I felt like I was giving her away and then I realized she's mine for keeps. The food was delicious and the alcohol was free! The Ambassador gave a great speech. He compared the navy to an SUV: stylish yet rugged. Well dressed and utilitarian. The air force he compared to a Corvette: sexy and fast. Able to get around quickly. The army is like a 4X4 pick-up truck: can get just about anywhere and drop a load. But the Marines; well, they're of a different caliber all together. They are like a Harley-Davidson. Drop down on you like thunder and gone before you know it. And then we danced.

    Yesterday we recovered from the Ball. In the evening, Dina and I went to the Bolshoi Ballet to see Giselle. Again she looked perfectly styled in her black dress and shawl. We sat on the wing of the orchestra section. The ballet was by far the best of any we had ever seen. Every set was dreamy. The dancing was superb and the unison and choreography was flawless. 

    Today is another work day. But tomorrow is a Russian holiday,woo-hoo.

  • red blooded american

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    I've had a few emails from people wanting to know about the Russian reaction to the elections. So I wandered over to the embassy to find someone to speak for their entire country. Natalia showed Stefan his anemic blood under the microscope–apparently his blood cells are shaped liked hot-dogs and coke bottles–I wonder why? I asked her what she thought of the American elections. "Obama won," is the official comment.

  • first november

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    The building next door. I told you you'd see it a lot. 

    We went for a walk this evening to a the fancier-than-France bakery Moscow Mom introduced us to, oo la la. We bought ham and cheese pizza slices, bread with raisins, two baguettes and croissants for the morning. Stefan rode his bike.

    Stefan and Camille have POUNDS of candy from Halloween–Stefan had everything for a perfect cowboy costume, but wanted to wear his last year's tiger costume topped by a witch's hat. He said he was a Tee Witch. A very Ramona-the-Pest kind of costume with a high "huh?" factor. Camille reprised last year's pirate look.

    Now the election. Deep breath. To get it to a mail box in time, my ballot was patriotically escorted home by a Marine.

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