The Lord's Prayer: As Sung by a Child

Presenting little Zoei Tah, 2 years, 8 months. Her rendition of The Lord's Prayer is simply extraordinary.

Holey, holey, holey: The Care and Feeding of Moths

A wonderful church in the Dallas area stores my 50-some boxes of material possessions in a spare classroom. They keep the door locked and one person has the only key. My treasures have been secure there for nearly a decade now. Or so I thought. But the one thing we overlooked was posting a sign in English, Spanish and Russian: Moths, Keep Out!

Recently I was in Dallas and sorting through my boxes of treasures. And what a surprise awaited me from those pesky little critters. Behold this beautiful wool skirt, lined even. Besides that, moths found my stash of Pendleton wool. But at least they confined their feasting to the top few layers of that fabric before they moved on to greener. . . garments.

Moths mystify me. How do they manage to get into a locked classroom in the first place. How do they sift through boxes of books, photos and cookware and keep searching until they find fabrics. And, connoisseurs of fiber they are, how do they sort through the cottons, the silks and acrylics, saving their appetite for the wool. Those little rascals.

Should come as no surprise though. Jesus himself said, Lay not up for yourselves treasures upon earth, where moth and rust doth corrupt, and where thieves break through and steal. But lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust doth corrupt, and where thieves do not break through nor steal. For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also. (Matthew 6: 19-21)

On the plus side, this holey skirt is one fine visual aid for the fleeting nature of things: material things. Especially when that material is wool.

And how about You, dear blog reader. Have you had insects chew up something of yours? How do you store woolens?

Welcome to Matroshka Doll Class

A person obsessed with matroshka dolls would be called what - a matroshka-phile? You know those wooden nesting dolls, the most popular souvenir of Russia. Well, I bring back several of them each trip I make to the US and right now, being stateside as I am, (Greetings from Beautiful OHIO, by the way!), I've got Russian souvenirs on the brain. Matroshkas, in particular. Say, care to join me for a behind-the-scenes look at matroshka painting?

First stop, friend Julia's studio in Rostov-on-Don, Russia. Julia's matroshkas are magnificent, in a league of their own.



Say, let's try our hand at matroshka painting. Here we can join a class already in progress.



Back to dear friend Julia, cranking out another set of matroshkas.




How about you? If you were painting a set of matroshkas, on what theme would you paint them?

Shopping Adventures at Moscow's Sheremetevo-2 Airport

A couple of weeks ago, perhaps a lifetime ago, after our overnight train arrived Moscow, after the taxi ride from the station to the airport, I found myself thinking about you, dear blog readers. Yes, you and you. . . and YOU. I was thinking what sights might be of interest to you at Moscow's Sheremetevo-2, the international airport. Care to come along?


So here's the outside view of the main terminal. That's the best I could do with that scene. See, my luggage was sitting there by the entrance, unattended. And some man, clad in a red jacket, was loitering a bit too close to my stuff, so I had to make it snappy.

Inside the airport was a different story: We're not supposed to photograph in airports, you know. But being one to push the limits from time to time (who, me?), I did ask the security officer if per chance I could capture for you the big digital schedule board. It's huge and when it's updated every few minutes, things flutter and whirl and it makes the sound of a thousand pigeons startled into flight. How to explain that board in English? Well anyway he said, Sorry, no photos. Actually he said Nyet. Because for one thing he speaks in Russian. And for another thing, that's every official's favorite word. And you think I'm kidding, don't you. Nyet, nyet, a hundred times nyet.

But after the joys of check-in and passport control, fine gift shops await the departing passengers. Allow me to confess right here in this public form that I have yet to request permission to photograph in those gift shops. I just whip out the camera and start shooting. Quietly of course. But so far, no one has deemed that much of a security threat.

Here's some insider information: The best-kept secret of that airport is the gift shop up on second floor. It's like a whole secret world up there. The selection is astounding, as are the prices. They would be comparable to other airport shops but the stuff there is so totally Russian. The choices are almost overwhelming so I decided to narrow the focus.


Let's concentrate on matroshka dolls today, shall we? Ma-TROSH-ka dolls, the wooden nesting dolls, are the most popular souvenir of Russia. The dolls above are the prettiest. Matroshkas like these often portray characters from Russian folk tales. See the price, 1,800-some rubles. Let's see, 23.5 rubles to the dollar earlier this month. You do the math. . . without a calculator, I'd say it's well over $10. Well over.

Recognize any of these Santas? There's Santa Bush, Santa Clinton, another Santa Bush, Santa Reagan and Santa Carter painted on matroshka dolls. Imagine if you will, what a popular item this must be. Surely every visitor hopes to snatch up such a masterpiece.

Perhaps I could mention here that the Russian word, саркасм is translated sarcasm in English. It's a cognate lifted from one language into another and pronounced nearly identically in the two languages. But I digress - how did I get off onto all that? Oh yes, I mentioned the popularity of this souvenir item. Surely I wasn't being sarcastic. (Or was I?)


World leaders on matroshka, anyone? Perhaps you'd like a set of German leaders? Or would you prefer the U.S. presidents in something other than Santa attire? For the hard-to-please, there's the Castro matroshka. Just imagine what a keepsake that will be someday soon. There's probably Prince Charles and the whole royal family around here somewhere too. Why, I've even seen the Texas A&M football team painted on matroshkas. Or maybe it was the UT Longhorns. Who knows? And who cares? Well, apparently somebody, somewhere does.

These are the simple matroshkas of all. I once saw a matroshka of this sort in a Russian family's home. And that, dear blog reader, was the only time I have ever seen a matroshka doll in a national's home. It's mostly a tourist thing, best I can see. But that one little doll looked like a surviver of the years Stalin. Those were rough years, as you would know. Not only for matroshkas.


Now here's the big mama. Figure she'll set you back a couple hundred dollars. The big question, how many dolls does she hold? Oddly enough, I didn't manage to get that information. I'd guess. . .well, 16. Or maybe 32. Hard to say. Oopsie daisy, somebody needs to get this young lady's top and bottom aligned. We can't have her there in front of the entire world with her design skewed up, can we? Nyet, nyet, a thousand times nyet.

Say, do you happen to own some matroshkas? Please tell us all about your matroshkas. We're dying to hear!

Life in 50 Boxes

Last week I visited my boxes. My life pre-Russia fits into 50-some boxes which are stored at in a Dallas-area church building. This wonderful little church so kindly guards my earthly possessions in a spare classroom. And this means so much to me. But when I came home, I like to go through and remind myself about the things I own. Not bragging or anything you understand. And the stash continues to shrink because I keep getting rid of stuff. Care to have a look?

So here are the boxes, looking toward the northwest corner of the room. And there in the foreground is the corner of my sewing machine which I found at an estate sale and refinished myself. So that's in my furniture collection, plus a little freezer and a rocking chair. Now that I think about it, I'll bet somebody could use that freezer. Per chance, could you?


Just between the two of us here, the last time I wore size 14 was back in 1993. Decided my size 14 days are history and that these clothes need to be in someone else's closet. Lots of fairly good stuff there, some of it rather dear to my heart, some I had made myself, all that was back when I taught clothing, textiles and fashion merchandising at a university. Back when I knew how to thread a sewing machine. Goodbye dear clothes.

And then there's the shoes. These shoes have been boxed up since 1998 when I packed up my stuff. Shoes like this won't work in Russia, not for me anyway. They're best for standing around, walking from a car into a building and teaching in all day. But not for walking a mile on crumbly sidewalks and such as we have in Russia. Besides that, seems that walking affects shoe size. Because these size 10-M just don't cut it anymore. Goodbye dear shoes. You belong in someone else's closet.


Oh what precious little suitcases. This Samsonite luggage was a graduation from high school gift from Mom and Dad back in 1970, back when LBJ was president, as I recall. Or maybe Nixon. Anyway, amazing where this luggage has been: In 1971, I packed up most all my clothes in these two suitcases and flew off to Texas to studay. After that, they held all my clothes as I moved to Sydney, Australia in 1976. I hold on to these for sentimental reasons so at least for now, they're not going into anybody else's closet.

Speaking of graduations. What's an expatriate to do with her fancy diplomas? Well mine are stored in a box. Amazing that I forked over $100 to have each diploma matted and framed. And they so beautifully graced my office wall once upon a time.

I'll admit, I do feel a twinge of some emotion when I happen upon these prizes of mine that are now stored boxes. And then my academic regalia is in there somewhere too along with the thesis and dissertation. But I remind myself that these trappings merely represent the ways in which I learned, the ways I grew and the ways in which I was s-t-r-e-t-c-h-e-d in graduate school. And those lessons remain in my heart and in my mind. Except that I've forgotten how to do standard deviations and stuff from statistics. On the other hand, I do know a thing or two about Russian verbs. Kinda similar, they are.

So there we have it, life in a few boxes. Another time we'll talk about the care and feeding of moths. And I've learned a thing or two about that, too.

And how about you? Ever put most of your stuff in storage? Ever go through and declutter your stuff? Did you find it freeing?