A distinguished guest

We hosted an adorable fuzzy houseguest a couple of weeks ago. His adventures are being chronicled here.

The dog was gone!

Just back from a great week visiting my folks in Toronto. Am totally jet lagged and am having a hard time adjusting back to a normal schedule and to a dogless house. (D is in on vacation in NL visiting M's parents until this weekend.)

In tribute to D I'm posting this horrendous, hilarious video: The dog was gone!

Miscommunication with a capital "M"

This morning I hosted a breakfast at my house for a few friends. About 10 minutes before everyone was to arrive I got a call from the school: could I please come pick up B? He had fallen badly and hurt his elbow and couldn't feel anything in his hand!

Luckily a friend had come early and took over the preparations so that I could go pick up B. When I got to school the teacher came to the door looking grave:

"We don't know what happened! He didn't fall or anything! Just suddenly he had a burning sensation in his hand and shooting pains in his arm! It's very strange!"

B was pale, but I was relieved to see that he was carrying his schoolbag and his jacket with his injured arm. When we got to the car I asked him what had happened. Apparently he'd bumped his funnybone on the corner of his desk. Seems kind of strange that it was still hurting 1/2 hour later, but I decided to take him back home and wait for an hour to see what our next step should be.

2ml of ibuprofen and about 4 waffles later his condition was much improved. Enough so that I took him back to school so that he could attend his class' Carnaval party.

Drove down through a blizzard to pick the kids up after school and S came to the car with a worried expression on his face:

"Mom, I can't find B! And I ran into K and he said that B cut his foot open in class and had to leave early!"

I was still trying to process this alarming information when B came running up to the car with a big smile on his face.

B! What happened to your foot?!

What?! My foot? I don't know, but guess what! I just won 2nd place in a joke-telling contest!

Первая любовъ

I don't know what's going on with me. Last week I picked up that Russian book and it opened a door in my head and I'm tormented and thirsty for more.

Russian was my first language love. There have been other languages since then; languages which I have appreciated, respected, some of which I've gotten to know intimately, but none will ever hold a candle to that initial spark and then all-consuming passion that I felt for Russian.

We spent several tumultuous years together-- sometimes we got along, sometimes we didn't. In the end our paths diverged and I came to the painful realization that Russian just didn't fit into my life anymore. I moved on as was necessary, but have always thought back wistfully on the days when it all flowed so easily and I was still blissfully intimate with this rich, poetic language.

Since last week I've been haunted. I don't even know what purpose it would serve, but I need to, I MUST rekindle some kind of relationship, even if it's just for old times' sake. I've been reading everything I can get my hands on. Listening to the radio, watching videos, ordering music.

In my head it's pure chaos. I've never been good at switching between languages, and now that the floodgates are opening everything is sloshing together and I am rendered completely incomprehensible in any language. At some point the dust has got to settle, but for now I'm holed up at home, muttering to myself and feeling the ache of nostalgia and lovesickness for my first great language love...