Mea culpa

A while ago, I blogged about Hillary Clinton’s inability to say the new Russian president's name. To avoid being a hypocrite, I think I'm duty-bound to tell this story.

One of the guys who comes to our Friday night small group works at the U.S. Embassy. When President Bush is in town next week, he will speak at a very early morning reception for the embassy workers. (They have to get there at 6 a.m.!) Zhenya is very excited about the opportunity, and wants to arrive as early as possible to get a good seat.

I was asking Zhenya what else Bush is doing on this trip, and he said that Bush also plans to visit Romania, Croatia and Russia, to meet with the president.

Now, a Russian language lesson: Medvedev means "of the bears." It's the "ev" at the end that makes it "of the bears," and not just "a bear."

So, as you may have guessed, I unfortunately replied to Zhenya, "Oh, will he be meeting with Putin, or with a bear?" Zhenya nicely replied, "Maybe both."

Please tell me I'm not the only one

Talbot's two-week session here is under way, which means this is our busiest time of the semester. Last week, we had two guests in from Talbot West — Dr. Dirks, dean of Talbot, and Mike Brady, who works tirelessly to administrate the program from the California side. They were such wonderful and thoughtful guests! For example, Mike showed up to every meal with a new present for Dietrich. We really enjoyed our time with them ... but ...

While I love to welcome guests into our home, I think it makes me a little crazy. I get so, so nervous that I will accidentally food poison someone. Nearly every time we have guests, I ask Eric to smell SOMETHING to make sure it hasn't gone bad. On a normal day, I very rarely do this, but put another place-setting on the table, and all food becomes suspect.

This time was particularly bad. I made a huge pot of potato cream soup, but I let the bacon thaw on the radiator for two hours, so I got nervous about the bacon. I did a little research and determined that YES, the bacon certainly COULD have a hidden, non-smelly, non-slimy bacterial explosion that wouldn't be killed by vigorous boiling. So, I pulled chili out of the freezer instead.

Later in the week, I bought a rotisserie chicken, intending to make chicken pot pie. I stripped off the meat and put it in the fridge, only to freak out 30 minutes later when I opened the fridge and decided it smelled "too strongly" of chicken. We ran out, got another chicken, and enjoyed a yummy pot pie. I left the first chicken in the fridge. Curiously, by the next day, it smelled normal. Perhaps it un-spoiled?

I know the rule is supposed to be "when in doubt, throw it out," but when we have guests, I'm in a constant state of doubt! Am I alone in this? Any advice from you seasoned hostesses?

Don't feed the animals

I'm glad I'm not an animal at the Kyiv Zoo. Check out the yummy stuff they aren't allowed to eat:







No bread, cookies or ice cream? What's the point of existing? The funny/sad thing is that, despite the explicit ban on bread, people show up with whole bags of rolls to throw to the bison. I've never seen anyone toss in a cone, though.

American traditions

I'm a baseball fan, but I'm also a bit of a softie when it comes to public humiliation. So, when a pitcher has given up six runs in the first, there are no outs and the bases are still loaded, it breaks my heart to watch him struggle. "Yank him," I think. "Put him out of his misery."

That's basically how I felt watching the Ohio Clinton-Obama debate on YouTube today. I'm sure Clinton is a smart woman, but I winced over and over as she misspoke, made humorless attempts at humor, whined about how the moderators were treating her, and failed to produce the name of the next Russian president. I pitied her, and I really doubt that Hilary Clinton wants my pity.

From a billboard on our street for a men's magazine

Ego: It's the masculine way of life.

Take it to the bank

This morning, I went to the bank to pay our bills. The 20th is the due date for most bills, so usually I encounter long, long lines. But today, I walked in to the bank just after it opened at 9 a.m., and no one was working at the bill-paying counter. I went outside to wait for Eric, who was around the corner picking up our Internet bill from the Internet company.

A few people walked into the bank so, worried about the line I thought was forming, I went in, too. Still no one was at the counter, but I walked up to it anyway.

After a few moments, the bank teller appeared and said, "I don't have any change, so you can only pay if you have exact change."

Well, I was about 80 cents off, but I thought that was a small price to pay to avoid the line I would have faced later in the day, so I told her to go ahead. After a few minutes, Eric came in with the other bill, and after she added that one in, we were able to rustle up enough small bills between the two of us to overpay by only 10 cents. What a deal!

A message for Aunt Jit

(He drew the squiggles himself.)