ISBN 1-55337-796-6 Mixed Beasts. Verses by Kenyon Cox (1856-1919) illustrated by the modern Canadian artist Wallace Edwards. Highly recommended for all parents with the particular sense of absurdity. Your child will learn a lot about The Bumblebeaver, Pelicantelope, Octopussycat etc.. I wonder if the title of one of the Bond movies had to remind the spectators of their childhood? ;) What would the specialists say? So, The Peanuthatch comes from the same delirious collection, so this word and its Russian very cultural :) translation have became another nick of Claudiuccia ("Aque" derives from "wuzique", which derives from "popolzen'" - the Russian for "nuthatch").



I have returned to my in-car lessons. "John" (he's as John as I am Zeinab) likes to drive on Lime Ridge (a city district, actually the canyon over the city), I still need his help driving down the hill. :(



Before the New Year thought of learning Swahili. Just for fun, to be able to overhear :) somebody's conversation in this language or understand a song. Recently my boss was talking about a tutor of Italian for me, my boss will pay for the lessons. Most recently :) baten'ka D.R. has provoked me to take an exam to become a UN Chinese translator. :tease4: I'm very grateful to him :hi2: and completely agree with the idea of "tickling the nerves". This should be a thrilling experience, huh? I'll have lots of stories to tell. So now I have to write a composition on "why it is important to save the world, bananas and, perhaps, pygmies as well". The problems are only about my Italian and Swahili. :)

Our news and our comments continued from my previous posts here. :)



For the second week Klavka goes to a playhouse (childcare) at a synagogue by the side of her public school. The synagogue is a kind of a "newest one", it is simply called "temple". We were not even asked about our religion or ethnicity - just pay them and bring your child. And they'll teach him/her about Martin Luther King and "what happens when you mix vinegar and baking soda?" (this week - next week it will be Tu'Bshvat - Birthday of trees :thnk: and "can a balloon make a whisper sound louder?" :kto: ).

Well, I don't know what I expect from the school more - Klavka's IQ as high as they swear they'll make it or just safety. Or both. Shangdi baoyou. This world is such a "cozy" place. Sure, Baobeir tried to convince me that the "difference" between pygmies and other people was a slip of a tongue. However, read Paul Salopek's article about DRC, esp. cannibalism accusations (National Geographic on Africa, September 2005).



I have to go now. Next time I'll explain you why the peanuthatch :)

We were stuck in a narrow hall. We needed a small talk. I started talking about the September issue of National Geographic (special on Africa) and asked how did the landscape had looked around the place my client used to live "back there".

- Nobody lives in the jungle. The Pygmies live there, but people don't live there.

On Sunday morning I left for St. Vladimir at 10. I attended the end of the service and went downstairs to the hall where we had had that St. Nicholas concert. There were some treats for everybody, I took mine and hid with them in a quiet corner, but the principal discovered me and asked to be closer to her and other carolers. The same lady that was shy about her student's varenyky looked at my embroidered blouse - I think many of you have seen it, the embroidery is black and gray and is not too gaudy.

- You are our little Ukrainian girl! (Україночка ти наша!)

- Yeah. One third of my integral personality is dominant today.

No comments followed. I was not fascinated with my own wit - there was no wit. I had just thought about that "multiple identity" and the identity gave an apt answer as if somebody was talking on my behalf.

We separated into groups, and I was in a car of a cardiosurgeon Orysia and her 7 years-old son Maxym. They took me and a teenage girl Nastya. We had chosen the area to the West from the church and into our West village. The others went to Burlington, Ancaster and in the other directions. Each group had a folder with addresses, an envelope to put donations in (they were for the school) and a booklet to write receipts about the money received.

At the first address there was an old lady in a night gown - almost deaf. We spoke to her daughter, the daughter shouted to her mother and the mother refused to accept us because she had no cash. Orysia thanked and turned back. I felt sorry. Why couldn't we just say that we we'd carol for free, just shout the carols for the senile lady's joy?! However I didn't want to start the trip quarreling about the "mission purpose" and telling that the songs=blessings are first and the money is the second or the hundredth issue here. I soon discovered that Orysia was Catholic so that was her goodwill to go fundraising for her son's school on the 8th of January, which is not the Christmas time for her. The other thing was that the old lady was living there for years and, though very old and hardly responsible for herself, she knew what she wanted. That was not me who would impose my values and ethics in this society. "The caroling opens the eyes on how the people live," said Orysia and drove to the South:

- I used to live here doing my internship at the General Hospital. XXXX street was known for the prostitution. Now it has mostly moved to Barton street. Well, when I rented an apartment on XXXX street, everything was quiet.

- Uhu, I see why they've built shelters on XXXX street.

Then there were all kinds of houses: Martha Stewart splendor with a touch of the traditional Ukrainian art almost lost in that glittering luxury or adapted for that style; there were houses of new immigrants equipped from dollar stores. The last place we visited was an old gentleman's neat and quite poor house a few blocks from our

place. On the walls there were color photos of Kiev seem to be cut out of a good quality magazine of my childhood, not later. The photos were in the frames under glass. He asked us about our last names, and we told him, I was not afraid to tell my last name in front of these people. He repeated mine for a few times, and I was waiting to hear everything from "I remember his arrival at the institute in 1947" to any curse like "I regret not to send him into the jail", but finally he said that he didn't remember. While we went from the solemn "Eternal God" to jingling "Both Earth and Heaven, Both Earth and Heaven..." he was reaching for a ten dollar note. He handled it to us with respect.

After visiting almost 20 houses the kids were "hyper" and after leaving that house they started fighting for the car keys. The old gentleman was looking at us from the door. "The gentleman is looking at you, but you are fooling around," - Orysia pretended to scold the kids knowing that the old gentleman was just happy to see those movements and foolery.

It was 4:30. I had a migraine and thanked refusing to accept Orysia and the kids at our place. Not because it looks more like those dollar-store houses. I was just too tired and wanted to see if Klavka had not tortured Baobeir to death. Luckily, my family was safe and sound. Perhaps the Christmas spirit helped.

Though, the most important thing I ask this spirit for is Klavka's integrity and flexibility. She will face even more social dangers and contradictions than I do.

To be continued.

Мастер и Маргарита. Современное прочтение некоторых фраз



(в трамвае) Граждане, обилечиваемся, обилечиваемся...

С котами нельзя! Котам нельзя! Понаехало тут, Москва не резиновая, в Бобруйск, животное!

**

Сегодня на Патриарших я встретил Аццкого Сотону.

**

Мастер, вот ваш роман, в целости и сохранности. Написано талантливо, автор жжот. Вот, выпейте-ка вина.



О боги! Как страшно жить! Йаду мне, йаду!

**

Пилат:

- Знаешь ли ты, Иешуа Га-Ноцри еще какие-нибудь языки?

Иешуа:

- Албанский, Ваша честь



Пилат:

- Знаешь ли ты, Иешуа Га-Ноцри еще какие-нибудь языки?

Иешуа:

- C++, php, perl...

A nice try of a popular Russian director to make a movie on such a complex novel. At least the movie became an event, and people were attracted to the modern classics. We also downloaded a short documentary about the novel. Diakon (clerk) Kuraev from the Russian Orthodox Church questioned if Margarita was an embodiment of the purity and beauty, quoting the early manusсriрts where "Margarita saw a glass vase. She touched it, and its stem has turned into a golden phallus. Margarita was giggling trying to drive the phallus away" - well, my translation for "drive away" is approximate, originally it was отплевываясь от фаллоса - which I'd awkwardly explain as "spitting on it to draw it away". And, Kuraev said, "Could an embodiment of a pure beauty wave her hands on a phallus?! Can you imagine Natasha Rostova spitting on a phallus to drive it away?!"

I was really puzzled. So, please vote, guys (to do it mark your answer and press the grey button :) )! Please answer this question:

Можете ли вы представить Наташу Ростову, отплевывающуюся от фаллоса?

Вопрос: Can you imagine Natasha Rostova spitting on a phallus to drive it away?!
1. Yes 
1  (100%)
2. No 
0  (0%)
3. Let me think 
0  (0%)
Всего:   1
Всего проголосовало: 1
Happy Holidays, guys (to whom it may concern :) )! :new2: Hope your New Year wishes, decisions and all that stuff have already started to come true!

We celebrated New Year at home. I had never used vinegars in cuisine, so I even was thinking of "recycling" that little bottle - to give it as a present to somebody else, that's it. But then I thought that this was not fair, since the present was for Me! :nap: And I was right. Aged Modena vinegar! That's "something", I must admit! :love:

Our neighbours were not noisy that night. All "Hurray!" and cracks of petards lasted for a few minutes after the midnight. Then there was silence. Klavka went to bed at her usual time and didn't hear even that.

Unfortunately, we were - and still are - a bit sick and didn't want to invite Klavka's classmate X and her mother L from the 8th floor for that evening. When in good health we sometimes go to their place. L has 11 years experience as a physician, but here she studies again to get licensed. Her husband is a post-doc at Maida, they stay here for more than a year. X makes the same mistakes as Klavka. First she says something quite sophisticated in Chinese, then "interprets that" into English - and says something too much far from the original. Klavka, in her turn, was asking for a roast beef meaning... strawberry juice. I have to contact Early Words. :confused:

Dec. 26, early afternoon. "Ardene" - or "Arlene" - a shop of cheap jewelry and accessories. Someone mentions that there are not so many people in a shop. A young saleslady with a weary and bitter expression (she looks like a mother of three whose eldest has just declared moving to her boyfriend): People don't believe in Boxing day!...

An article about a foreplay, a quote from a "reader": "That woman brought a peach and a knife. She removed a stone and put the peach on me. I used to have these peach-jobs for a few months and that was so cool!" Yeah, a cold and sticky fruit must be a cool item for a prelude! Buy our peaches!

If I guy at the Italian pastry shop could understand my giggles when I asked for a peach-shaped sweets. If he could, that would be the best thing about those sweets - that was not what I'd expect from the Italian pastry.

At St. Vladimir, I work with three teenagers and then I have a half an hour to spend with the preschool group. There are three teachers, e.g. 1 adult for every 3 kids. Once Klavka and I had found a wasp's nest and I brought it and a piece of honeycomb (from the farmer's market :) ) to the kids to compare: "Look, this is honeycomb, it's yellow, almost golden, it's heavy, it has a nice flavour. And now, look, this stuff is so light, empty, it has such a dull grey color. Guess, who could build such a nest?"

One of the teachers looks like "I'm smart because I guess right!" and says:

- A drone has built it?

- A wasp.

This person has a diploma of a veterinarian.

06:54

Tamagochi

In a changing room a lady over 40 digs in a locker, some of her belongings around her. I notice a small gadget on a bench: a kind of a beeper or Tamagochi. Well, a gadget is not a gun or a piece of foil with some strange white powder - no need to worry. I go ahead with my stuff while she picks the gadget up and presses some buttons. She turns to me and explains:

- My daughter and I compete whose Tamagochi will live longer. I've lost two, and her creature is still alive.

I turn to her:

- How old is your daughter? - I smile (and think: 7? 9? 12?!)

- 21.

- Uh... yeah... that's interesting.

- She's newly married and she wants to know if she can trust her baby to me. If I may be a reliable grandmother...

Baobeir suggested that the lady had mocked at me. I told him that I had shown no interest in her business. "Well, this way I would not be surprised if a phychologist has suggested them to do that. And for a big money."

with "aboriginal crafts"! :-D

http://mignews.com.ua/articles/189067.html

Qin'aide Chmo xuedi:

Zhu ni yiqie shunli, xinli kuaile!

Sorry for forgetting your Birthday! :(

I must confess that I'm not a vixen. I can't complain about the quality of the donor ;) , but something goes wrong even in his presence. Yesterday at the school there was a Holiday concert. One 6 years-old girl was late, kids were sitting on the stage so dense that she could not take steps to get to her place and I lifted her helping to get to the stage right from the hall. The poor thing has asthma and is overweighted. Well, I thought of myself as simply a younger person, so I should be fit to help her bent granny - but I should not do that. I was to the doctor today, and it looks like my old troubles come back to me. I was moving freely for almost 4 years, I was fit and forgot those stupid restrictions: weights, running, jumping! I try to calm down thinking of all other things that could affect that really bloody test and that I used to live for 13 years with restrictions for weights and like, and those years were still bright and interesting times. What am I weeping about? Could I be depressive? I don't want to tell that to Luo the Elder - I'm afraid to upset him. And don't want to lie to him.

Hope the Holidays will bring me some relief.

Well... Yesterday it was not so bad. We had a lenten (with fish) lunch. My students gave me my teacher's ration of brandy chocolates, balsamic vinegar, maple syrup, olives stuffed with dried tomatoes, cherries in Belgian dark chocolate and a few tea bags. Even the price tags were removed. Cool, isn't it? ;)

18:02

Hai huozhe!

Dear all,

I'm still alive, though the dull pain in my face didn't pass yet (two days on antibiotics left - I'm desperate! And this is after a flu shot!), I work for the Agency and for our Big Hairy Hand in Toronto, translating some documents into French. On Sunday we have a concert at the church. On Monday I work, I don't know, if I find time for the gym, finally. And I'm not sure that I'm fit for it.



A few days ago we were to the X-mas party thrown by the police of the Steel City. The invited were mostly the people in need. The music was nice, the food was scary (though Baobeir asks me to calm down: "That's not because they don't respect drifters and refugees - that's because they themselves eat such a crap!") The biggest impressions were 1) the teenage girls from a modern dance school performing something about vacations in Rio - their bellies looked like they all had already had two to four children; 2) N (over 30, from Kenya, with the body of a Venus of Paleolith) dancing to the same music - imagine an enormous baloon floating on a string over the crowd, but the baloon that can move with a grace and precision to the every note. I preferred to look in the corner where N was dancing and thinking of my gym...



Love you all, guys!

07:39

Baobeir was asked: "Is your wife much younger than you?" And guess what was his answer?! "Not so much." :nunu: :D He makes excuses that he has never thought of me as somebody much younger and didn't see that "social significance" of dating or being married to a kind of Nabokov's hero. (Lucky I am, to be truthful!)

Baobeir's department had thrown a party at Pepper Jack Cafe. Nice seafood pasta and real pizza. Pepper Jack Cafe is known for its live jazz, but today it was rented specially for the department without any saxophones. :) Klavka got her presents - a pack of dollar store board games, though chosen with the taste and wit.

Everything would be so nice. But my sinuses... Tomorrow I'll start the antibiotics. I was trying my best to avoid that... :(