Trekhprudny Lane

I've been passing out slices of plum cake, and it turns out that Russians have a delightful custom about returning the plates: never return them empty! "Or life will be empty," one neighbor explained. (They have to take it to extremes, don't they?) Today we received seven hand-canned jars of pickled vegetables and fruit preserves and two speckled apples -- I brushed off the fact that our bicycle was just stolen from the lobby of the building and decided to enjoy a brined tomato. 

EB has been a perfect joy. Her morning dancing is feral and beautiful. She always explicates the theme first: "This is a dance about flowers" or "This is a dance about a lot of books." Been a hail of milestones lately: she drew some letters of the alphabet, is almost perfectly potty-trained, and seems to be moving beyond "why?" to more nuanced questions. She has some wonderful verbal habits, like "both their chothers" and "What did you dooed?" I miss her -- both girls -- within an hour of their going to bed, and actually have trouble completing a night's sleep, I am so eager to be with them again. Perfect timing for a golden phase, as the nanny is out of town. But more than that, it's life-sustaining -- this beautiful time will give me strength for the next rough spot. Reserves.