Well, surprise, surprise. My windshield wipers work....

......which is my way of telling you that it actually rained today.  A bit.  More like what they call Irish mist in Ireland, but it happens so seldom here that everyone makes a fuss!!

Thanksgiving has come and gone, without incident, that is, I did not mention that I was upset at being unable to bring my friends.  It was actually a lovely evening; everyone loved my turkey (and stuffing and gravy and cranberry sauce), evidenced by the fact that they gobbled it up.  That, of course, made me happy.  I love people eating well, especially food I have cooked.  I don't know why I don't invite people over more often.  Partially, of course, its because it is not as much fun when you are alone.  David and I used to collaborate on the guest list and the menu, and although he wasn't the best of cooks, he was the best of hosts.  I have pretty much steeled myself not to miss that, but every once in a while...

Anyway, the guests were lovely, great conversation, altogether a nice evening.

And, about the only thing that happened all week, except for the usual round of activities already mentioned. More books, of course.  One, called the Sherlock Holmes Book, was actually a page turner, a precis of all the stories, with sidebars about Victorian London, the development of Holmes and Watson and all the other characters, and literary and film offshoots.  (The authors were very much taken with the most recent iteration by Bennedict Cumberbach.)  I dipped in and out of it for a while, then read it cover to cover.

And another new addition to my repertoire, Karen Bender.  I read a collection of her short stories called The New Order,   She is obviously very much troubled by the lack of civility in our new world order (as, of course, are we all), and the stories all address that in various ways.  It spoke to me.

And now, on a different tack altogether, I am reading The Court Dancer, a novel by Kyung-Sook Shin, apparently a very famous Korean author.  As always, when reading about India or Egypt of Japan or China or, now, Korea, I feel as though I were being transported to a different world.  To me, this is what reading is about.  I feel sorry for those who don't - or can't - read.  It gives me so much joy.

And - mostly - keeps loneliness from my door.

Hard to believe I have been here a month.  But, for sure man, for sure, there is no place else I would rather be.....

Happy Thanksgiving

It has been a busy week.  I went to see the encore of Marnie at the Met in HD broadcast, and, although I was perfectly prepared to hate it, I turned out to be gripped instead.  In the way of modern opera, one doesn't go out humming the tunes.  However, it was well sung, well directed and sell staged, and, as noted, I was totally gripped.  I will watch for it in Santa Fe; I would like to hear it again!

Other social outings this week included Scrabble and dinner with friends Geoff and Marvin (recently married, after many years together), and a dinner celebrating friend Chaya's 70th birthday (apparently the tradition in India, where Chaya is from, is for the celebrant to take friends out to dinner, not the other way around...) at Mama Gina's, a chi-chi Italian restaurant on El Paseo.  Good food and good company; it is a restaurant I will certainly add to my repertoire.

Aside from the usual round of classes, bridge and exercise, I went through 4 books, rejecting two (Dear Fahrenheit 451, a book about books, and Chicago, by David Mamet, both of which I had high hopes for which were rudely dashed) and liking two - French Exit (a good read, but very weird), and Clock Dance.

The best read of all was a book I bought at the library book sale for $1.  (Yes, folks, I still buy books...)  It was a (maybe the only) Graham Greene I hadn't yet read, called Doctor Fischer of Geneva, or The Bomb Party, taking on the limitless greed of rich people!  Don't read it if you are depressed about the state of the universe, but I liked it...

Thanksgiving certainly brings out the best and the worst in people.  I am invited to Geoff and Marvin's for Thanksgiving dinner.  I am bringing the turkey, stuffing, gravy and cranberry sauce (not altogether altruistically - Marvin is now a vegan, and I draw the line at tofu turkey!!!).  So when I found out yesterday that other friends were at a loss for the holiday (Jim has COPD Stage 4, just got out of the hospital, and would not have been able to breathe in San Diego where they were scheduled to go), I thought nothing about asking Geoff and Marvin if I could invite the boys.  The answer was no, the table wouldn't comfortably seat them.  I was (quietly) appalled.  Their house, their rules, of course.  But in my house, inviting folks who were at sixes and sevens would take precedence over the look of my table, any day.  I will make the turkey, I will attend, and I will (try to) keep my mouth shut.  But, frankly, I will never look at them in the same way again.

But as for you, my friends, I hope you have lots to be thankful for, and that you will all enjoy your day.

Catching up to the desert

Well, as noted, I am back to zumba, and am loving it.  (I think there is a reason I sleep better here; I get way more exercise.)  I am also back to the gym, and am back up to the full routine, half hour on the elliptical trainer, half hour on the bike, and a half hour weight training circuit.

I'm in to the second week of adult learning classes.  As mentioned, one of the courses is about getting advice, or, more formally, oracles throughout history and the present.  The instructor is a philosophy professor from whom I have taken courses before, and I love his enthusiasm and esoteric knowledge.  (The fact that he is really good looking doesn't hurt either....)  Another class continues the Russian theme; it is called 100 Years of Revolution; Russia from 1917 to the Present.  The jury is still out on this one.  This is the instructor's first course, and for starters, it is hard to understand him through the thick Russian accent.  And he is descended from Russian aristocracy, and his facts are skewed in that direction.  We'll see.  But there is no doubt about the third class; it is about Rogers and Hammerstein, given by an instructor (also familiar to me from previous classes) who worked on Broadway and the Brill building in New York, and actually know Oscar Hammerstein.  I mean, Oklahoma, South Pacific, The King and I, and on and on and on - this was the sound track of our lives, folks.

A book published earlier this year, Something Wonderful, by Todd Purdum, is the basis for the course.  I had already bought it - apparently long before this was even a glimmer in the instructor's eye - but hadn't had a chance to read it.  I am busy devouring it now, and it a great read for those of you who love Broadway!

While we are talking about reading, I am back on the library circuit, starting with the recent best-seller The Woman in the Window, by A.J. Finn.  It is pretty much a 21st century redo of Rear Window, but actually a very good - if mindless - read.  Also read in short order two more Alexander McCall Smith offerings, one in his 44 Scotland Street series (A Time of Love and Tartan), and an Isabel Dalhousie novel in the philosophy series (The Quiet Side of Passion).  I really love his books - they are so gentle, but with object lessons attached.  I rejected a Minette Walters (The Last Hours) - it just didn't grab me, and I am so over reading things just because I've started them.  I've now settled in with the new Martha Grimes mystery, The Knowledge.

The first ten days was rounded out by a visit from Debbie, my law school buddy, who divided her time between my place and Robin's, the third of the three muskateers, some entertaining (John and Jim over for brunch - not one of my more successful efforts, but the company was good), a retirement party, and, of course, lots and lots of  bridge, with different partners - and some of the old standbys, including Alex from Vancouver (who got down here a few days before I did) and Chaya - she and I are dynamite!  There has already been a tournament!  And lots more winning outcomes, which, of course, always makes me happy.

In short, I am a tired but happy camper.  And the weather is glorious, cool (okay, downright chilly) in the mornings, and high 70's by the afternoon.  I really do love it here.

I realize I haven't filled you in on the last hectic weeks before I left Vancouver for Palm Springs, but the news is too stale now.  Suffice it to say what it was a whirlwind of theater, musical events, lunches and dinners - enough to that I could almost believe I have a social life in Vancouver too.

Truth of the matter, I have landed pretty well for a dippy old broad, and feel incredibly lucky,

As promised, I won;t harass you with more postings for a little while - both you and I need a rest.  But I will get back to you.  I promise.  

Moscow, for the last time....

The ship arrives in Moscow, and I get a chance to see some stuff again, and to add some new bits....

Loved this retro ice cream cart on Sparrow Hill....

Back to the Kremlin, of course...

......and the cannon which was never shot....

...and Cathedral Square (with a cathedral on each corner....

....and our guide Violetta (yes, named after the opera).  Hugely knowledgeable about all things historic and cultural, a real treasure...

.....St. Basil's, of course.  (The favourite line of the day was the awed look, and someone saying:  I always thought they photo shopped that....)...

The infamous GUM department store is not far from the Kremlin.  This was only a small part of their small display...

This was part of a commemoration of Russia's experience in the Great Patriotic War - as World War II is known in Russia.  There are five stories, one for each year of the war, and 1,418 fountains, one for each day of the war.  There are exhibits tracing the battles, Russia's terrible losses, and the Allies eventual victory.

Free time to wander around...

...followed by dinner at the hotel, and a ballet, at a new venue called the Hall of Congresses, recently built within the Kremlin walls.  It is a huge venue - it seats 6,000 - and is called "The People's Ballet.  We saw an offering called The Scarlet Flower, a Russian take on Beauty and the Beast.  Tchaikovsky it wasn't, not really very subtle at all, but still, enjoyable.  An incredible number of well behaved children in the audience, imagine that....

We returned to the Tretyakov State Gallery, but this time with Violetta, who gave us a lot more insight into the collection.  It was created by Pavel Tretyakov, an oligarch of his day, who donated his collection to the city of Moscow.  He was the first to collect Russian art - this was in the 1860's or so.  (Prior to Peter the Great, there was only religious art in Russia....)

The streets of Moscow were closed - for a marathon, believe it or not - so we wandered back to the hotel on foot, exploring a grocery store, a Russian equivalent of a dollar store, a pharmacy, and, finally, the State History Museum.

Just enough time for a farewell dinner at the hotel and a few hours sleep before leaving for one of two international airports in Moscow for the return trip.

It was a fabulous trip.  All of the (groundless, as it turned out) anxiety which preceded it was worth it.   I hope my next bucket list item, the Galapagos, will be pretty spectacular as well - so far I am batting two for two..

Finally, I am not sure that this will work, but it is meant to be a link to a slide show sent to me by one of my companions....

.https://drive.google.com/file/d/1bcJSErJlWQuzrFIgA5L1RxzTNAoU4qky/view?usp=drive_web

If it doesn't work, you will have to make do with my meagre offerings; hope you liked them.

Tomorrow, I will bring you up to date on life in Palm Springs.  Then, I think I will take a breather, and not subject you to any more of my ramblings for a while...

On the ship

These, of course, were taken throughout the voyage, but put together so you get the idea....  this was the first lock we went through (I lost track - perhaps 7?)

...our resident piano player.  Not bad, really.....

...the first of many lectures.  This one was The History of Russia, Part I.

....this was a bell tower of a church flooded by the river....

The first town on our itinerary is Mandrogi..  It is a small tourist town now, built by one of the oligarchs on the remains of a burnt out village...

...there was a vodka museum, with, of course, a tasting room...

.....and a shish kebab lunch on shore...

Next stop along the river is Kizhi Island, a UNESCO world heritage site and one of 1,650 islands on Lake Onega.  Beautiful wooden churches, apparently a popular tourist destination...

.....Kizhi.....

The most impressive thing about these churches is that they were built without any nails or other metal ties - even the joints were made of wood....

You can see it was raining.  It was also windy and cold.  I've got to say, this is more what I thought Siberia would look like...

The next stop was the small town of Goritsy.  It was very picturesque, with a monastery and a beautiful Nunnery (Ivan the Terrible's wife was exiled here by Boris Godunov, of opera fame).  .  Unfortunately, my camera ran out of juice, and the fellow traveler who was supposed to supply me with pictures has fallen down on the job.  I'll provide them later if they ever turn up.

In between, on the ship, we had more lectures - Russian History, Part II, Russian Fairy Tales, a lecture on Putin, and (have I mentioned) Differing Attitudes towards the Middle East - America vs. Russia.

I should also mention, I guess, that during the course of the trip, I read Irving Stone's biography of Van Gogh, a collection of Conan Doyle's Sherlock Holmes stories, and the Summing Up by Somerset Maughm, an autobiography of sorts.  I had read the Van Gogh biography many years ago, but found it much more moving this time.  The Somerset Maughm was interesting, not so much a day by day recap of his life but rather his views or art and writing and life.  It has made me want to reread his books.

Other things added to my reading list.  To be read:  Putin's World; House on the Embankment; Pushkin's poems and short stories.  To be re-read: Quiet Flows the Don (and the others in the series); Bulgakov's The Master and Margarita; Turgenev; and Gorky Park.

And one movie on my list:  Moscow Doesn't Believe in Tears.  (It apparently won the Oscar for Best Foreign Film.)

The last town on the Volga part of our adventure, Ouglich.  Ivan the Terrible's youngest son Dimitry was banished here, and later found dead, presumably killed by - yes, right on one, Boris Godunov.  (Hence the False Dimitrys who haunted poor old Boris.....

..and, the Church of St. Dmitry on the Blood, on the spot where Dmitry was killed....

.....and, from here the ship takes us to Moscow, the final stop of the epic tour.  I had some thoughts that I might finish that tonight, but I'm sorry, no can do.  But the next  blog is definitely the last part of this excellent adventure...