November 23, 2011 at 9:58 AM
"How are you? You look like you're far away." One of my friends at the coffee shop observed, with slight concern. She's right: I am. Some days, I awake as though I'm in the middle of a Russian play. (In my mind, I speak with a thick Russian accent.)
The nights are long. The days are cold. The snow gradually buries us. Yes, I would defintely think twice before assigning any student to a technical Gulag, this time of year.
From Tom Holzman
Posted on November 23, 2011 at 4:26 PM
Ouf. I cannot think of any Russian play that I would want to wake up in the middle of. What an image. At least you are better off than my father was during WWII when he was stationed in the Soviet Union for the last year of the war and spent half of a Russian winter sleeping in a tent. Have a good winter up there in "Seward's Ice Box."
Time for a little Shosty.
Or some Carmen.
Of course you feel Russian, Emily. Living in Alaska, you can see Russia from your house, can't you?
I don't envy you the northern winters. The older I get the less I like cold and dark. Your daily writing, however, has been a bit of warmth and light. Thanks.
From Mendy Smith
Posted on November 24, 2011 at 2:52 AM
I long for seasons... something other than oppressive heat. Something cold enough to kill off the mosquito swarm. At least cool enough to turn off the air conditioning once in awhile.
This entry has been archived and is no longer accepting comments.