So what can we bring you when we come back for the boys?
I was talking with a neat couple from southern California who were in Rostov for an adoption visit. I had helped them a bit and they wanted to show appreciation.
What do I want from the US?
Listen carefully dearly beloved, those are the golden words, the absolutely most beautiful words to the ears of any expatriate. And the answer was easy. Really, really easy.
I want file folders. I need file folders. Throw in a PayDay candy bar and a magazine or two – People, Good Housekeeping, something light - right off the rack and that would do me a world of good. Especially the PayDay.
That was mid-January.
Neat Couple returned last week to get their boys and invited me to Hotel Rostov to get the goodies. Two packages of file folders and indeed, they are beau-ti-ful!
And then there was the candy. We need to talk about the candy. First, there was not one Payday in the bunch. Not to worry though. There were packages of Butterfingers, Babe Ruths, Junior Mints, 100 Grand, Reese’s peanut butter something new-fangled, Twix. Oh yum. Yummy, yum yum.
Decisions, decisions. What to do with all that candy. In the interest of health and safety, I decided to sample one of each for quality assurance. Hard to know how high altitudes and crossing of time zones might affect the goods. Fortunately – or unfortunately depending upon ones perspective – the quality was excellent. So far, so good.
Then I buckled down to work on my long-overdue newsletter, a project which brings me considerable strain and trauma. Not to mention mental anguish. It really is one of the hardest things I do. During all that I realized what comfort the Butterfingers would bring. And they were calling to me from the other end of the house. I could hear them through the plastic bags and the cabinet in which I had hidden them. It was that loud, truly. Just three of those little Butterfingers couldn’t hurt all that much. . .
Well, things went downhill from there. By the time evening came, I was in a sugar-induced stupor. Let’s make that a self-inflicted, sugar-induced stupor (SiSiS) and I needed help.
I called for intervention.
Hello? My name is Eileen. I’m a sugaraholic and I need help.
I’ll be right there.
The voice belonged to Andrey, the neighbor kid downstairs. He knew exactly what to do with all that candy. He and his buddies would handle chocolate faster than you can say sugar diabetes.
That wasn’t the first time Andrey and his family have helped me out. Thank goodness for neighbors, eh?
Hold on, hold on. Do I hear my name? It’s those pesky file folders, feeling abandoned. Oh do they smell fresh and crisp. Paper, a cellulose product, a source of roughage perhaps? Just a tiny little nibble surely couldn’t hurt anything. What a concept – fat-free file folders! (FF- FF)
Neat Couple probably will never understand how much I got into the care package they brought. Yep, absolutely devoured it.
This is my office. See how much I trust you ~ with all this information? But surely you agree that file folders would be useful to organize all this.
These are photos are of my office exactly as it is, not one little thing done to makie it tidier for this little photo shoot. As embarrassing as it is though, it's more attractive than the extra kilogram that has shown up on my bathroom scale since then.
Surely I'm not alone in this. What particular food that you have learned to stay away from? Other than Russian caviar, of course. ;)