Sveta Made it to the Village and that cup of coffee…

Around 10 pm last night the train pulled into the station at Saria (the big village, I spell it how it sounds to me) and Sveta my sweety got off. She brought a few bags of stuff and most important, she brought her beautiful smile. It was nice seeing that smile and now she is sleeping, most likely until noon today. She was a tired girl and needs her long village sleeping time. Nothing is better on the nerves than a cool morning and the coo coo birds singing…

I can not help it, in the village I get up between 6 or 7 am like clockwork and it is because there is so much wonderful things to see, hear and do that I definitely do not want to miss it all. Just like this example: I was sitting sipping my coffee and looking toward the sun. The day is cool and the breeze is blowing. I was thinking that this is such a treat, considering what we have had to deal with lately for weather and from out of nowhere comes this little dog running down the hill. We are not talking about a standard village dog which is a breed that is a stunted big doggy, big head and furry fluffy body, but short little stout legs. The village dog rules the roost in their village and we have one up on the top and he lives with a guy we call Drunk Monkey. This was not that dog, but an actual Chihuahua, you know the true ruler of the world, that killer of a dog about the size of a skinny small loaf of bread, yea that one the one that tells you leave his mommy alone, or he will rip your head off without a second thought…

Now I was sure that somewhere there was an owner to keep this killer on restraint and hence, since I could see no master of the demon let loose on the village, I waited inside the fence and Boza decided to sleep more as his mother is sleeping. I had to endure this little devil peeing on the tires of our car and that told me first off that this was the Alpha Male of the village. He looked around, sniffed the air and satisfied that all was safe went back up the hill to let his masters (or is he the master) know that all was secure in the village…

See, always something exciting happening in the village and if I had stayed sleeping, I would have missed the fact that a superior beast had entered our habitat as we slept last night. Things like that are important to life and limb…

Therefore, that coffee is wonderful this morning, while the cool wind blows and the trees talk to me and tell their tales of past years and talk of the times that knights rode the hills on horses of great strength and power. I hear the songs of the monks in the past who have lived at the monastery, when it was in its peak of religious furor and he birds sing of a time when peace ruled the land with a steady firm hand, instead of a calloused hand of pain and hardship…

Yes it is a beautiful morning, Boza is sleeping peacefully under the bed and Sveta is home, sleeping and dreaming. The clock I rebuilt yesterday is ticking away as congenial as can be and I have sipped two cups of coffee as I wrote this thinking’s…

Oh, you can feel the Russian soul today as it waves in the wind blowing across the land…

That is why I love Russia…

Post by Kyle Keeton
Windows to Russia…

PS: The image is just two typical village ladies as they go about their business. Just part of what makes Russia, Russia…

About the Author

Russian_Village

A survivor of six heart attacks and a brain tumor, a grumpy bear of a man, whom has declared Russia as his new and wonderful home. His wife is a true Russian Sweet Pea of a girl and she puts up with this bear of a guy and keeps him in line. Thank God for my Sweet Pea and Russia.