Posted in 2018, tagged apartment hunting, my Irish neighbor Logan, my precious home, New York on September 22, 2018| Leave a Comment »
В уездном городе N было так много парикмахерских заведений и бюро похоронных процессий, что, казалось, жители города рождаются лишь затем, чтобы побриться, остричься, освежить голову вежеталем и сразу же умереть.
Витрина бизнеса по декорации банкетов
Общий вид на этот город
Posted in 2018, tagged 9/11, in memoriam, my precious home on September 16, 2018| Leave a Comment »
Remember the beautiful old magnolia tree, one of the reaso
ns I chose this apartment when looking for a new home? This one; it delighted me every spring for five years…except the last.
There wasn’t a single flower, nor a single leaf, and the owner decided to cut it down. One weekend
in August, which I spent at a friend’s mountain house in PA, the deed was done. He was
probably right to do it – the tree was most likely dead and dry – but I still feel a loss. That hole in the sky, empty air where once that was a mass, distorted proportions of everything.
September is a month of losses.
Posted in 2018, tagged life's trifles, my precious home on September 9, 2018| Leave a Comment »
Have you noticed that potted geranium emanates fragrance from its leaves, not its flowers?
Posted in 2018, tagged domestic duties, my precious home on July 17, 2018| 5 Comments »
Разумеется, как только я помыла окна, немедленно началась гроза – гром и молнии, ветер хлещет струями по стеклам, кондишены дребезжат и практически полу-апокалипсис
А ведь я и прогноз не забыла посмотреть, и даже планы наметила на-после-обеда, пройтись в багетную, заказать рамки для картинок. Одна – оттиск гравюры, привезённой из прошлогоднего отпуска: чесночный натюр, сербский художник, куплено в Словении. Вторая – собственный, выкопаный из закромов рисунок углем: надо же, и я когда-то могла!
Ну вот, теперь сижу-тоскую…варенье, что ли, сварить? Клубника с ревенем?
Posted in 2018, tagged my precious home, seasons on July 7, 2018| Leave a Comment »
Posted in 2018, tagged anglosphere, expat conquista, in transit, limousine liberals, my precious home, racism, worldwide plague on May 3, 2018| Leave a Comment »
[from some corner-of-the-eye TV snippet] – that sometime around 1960 Whites comprised 88% of US population. In 1990 the figure was 80%. In 2010 – 72%.
Projected for 2060 – 47%.
The woman who came up with that last figure, delivered her piece with visible delight. I thought: “how do you call a White counterpart to an Uncle Tom?”
And “if I wanted to live in a Third World country, I might have saved myself all that trouble and just stayed in miserable Russia”.
Posted in 2018, tagged food, in transit, life is stranger than..., my precious home, New York on April 27, 2018| 2 Comments »
Just saw a rather unusual cat walking thru backyards of three rowhouses. Fat, compact, with squarish head and bushy striped tail. Very relaxed, not like normal urban cats – as if it knows no danger. Ran to take my cell from the charger for a snapshot, but the cat disappeared thru a crooked plank in a white picket fence…Am I still dreaming?
I sit high, I see far
