In Russia it is said that chickens are milked, and cows carry eggs. (A mockery of those who believe ridiculous rumors.)

The Twelve Christmases in Russia…

I have just finished my twelfth Christmas in Russia…
I had Twelve Halloweens…
Twelve Thanksgivings…
Soon…
Twelve New Years…
Twelve Birthdays right after that…
Twelve Easters and so on and so on…

No not twelve days in Russia, not twelve weeks in Russia, not twelve months in Russia…

Going on twelve years in Russia….not quite twelve years officially, but I go by holidays, Svetochka tells me that I am wrong to look at it that way. I see her point from her world; Russians do not hardly acknowledge life events until they happen. But since I am American and getting old and grouchy…

I dance a jig as soon as I think of such things as time passages. Gotta dance while I still can… 😉

Looks like I will stay!

WtR

About the author

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 Russian and she puts up with this bear of a man and keeps him in line...

Thank God for my sweetie and Russia...

kKEETON