old russian music throws me into unbearable fits of nostalgia. i haven't lived through any of these songs... but something tears at me regardless; something deep, deep in the throat

جان جان جان از همه جهان
می کشد دلم پر به سوی تو

i just love this.. heard it for the first time this morning

so, so touched by everyone's warm wishes--and leaky, as always, from your various kindnesses

i was asked recently if the fact that i'm driving makes me a "grown up"..but i'm such a child today, giddy with attention--and cake--that i rather suspect this will not be the case for a long time yet

i guess it ought to be commemorated: the (rather depressing) fact that i drove on my own for the first time in my life the day before my 30th birthday

این کیه که با من همنفسه...

what else to say, my love
thank you for a wonderful six years together

how terrible that ino reader refuses to display my corrections to embarrassing mistakes...

It was a lovely place--beautiful, serene, and French--and we had a wonderful, peaceful time, eating under the sky and roasting potato on the fire.

But on the way there, almost everything that could go wrong, did: traffic; road work; confusion and separation in Ottawa and the loss of 40 min trying to find each other; a bathroom emergency; complete lack of visibility due to heavy, heavy rain; crazy locals driving at full speed despite the literal barrage of water; evening; thick cloud cover; a road closure--and the subsequent confusion of our GPS.

Here, it would be best to recount in detail and to explain that we were trying to find our way in rural Quebec, at dusk, with zero cell reception. While the GPS shouted at us to turn around, we came across two young ladies walking along a dirt path. In a surreal personification of Canada, one of the ladies spoke perfect English, one spoke perfect French, both were extremely polite, but neither was helpful. The first appeared to be an exchange student, and the second may or may not have been a local. I was directed, in both languages, to a nearby farm, where we came across two men using a small tractor. I hopped out of the car:

- excusez moi, vous parlez anglais?
- non [smiles, hesitation, and knowing glances]  

And, in my pièce de résistance, a sudden surge of high school French that I can only attribute to extreme desperation:
   
- nous sommes perdus!
- ah, aha

... After that, I resorted to single words:

- adresse [pointing], cellulaire [head shaking], téléphone? [more pointing--inside]

... And from them, something like:

- oui, pas de ... tower; allez [pointing down the road]; tournez à gauche ... signe stop
 
Then suddenly, as if sent by god, Charles appeared--Charles who knew English and who knew exactly what to do. The GPS found his route and we thought we were safe. We even found our chemin. But this road, being newly-developed, being rural, and being basically a dirt path, was unlit, un-mapped, and quite terrifying in the dark. We were twice confused by our electronic friend: first, we were told that we had reached our destination about 2km before we had actually reached it; second, we were told that we were 300m away and then, suddenly, 1km. We physically popped out of the car to shine a flashlight on every cottage until we found our own.

I've learned from this experience that I'm a bit of a tyrant when it comes to extended road trips: no music until we're on a highway for at least 40km; no leaving later than 7:30am; no more than two stops for gas/washroom/food; no long stops; no delays. I have become a slightly toned-down version of my father--and I'm not ashamed.

Here are a few pictures of the surroundings and of our two excursions:

Cottage

Quebec City

Ottawa

Yasha, whom i've known almost my whole life.. the kindest, sweetest man who loved to pickle mushrooms.. who always called me инночка.. who was so much Lena's other half

i will remember you as before: in health, in the kitchen, singing with my parents

זיכרונו לברכה
may your memory be blessed
rest in peace, at last

عشق من
happiest (sunday's) birthday

i've been trying, for days, to think of something to say, but nothing feels adequate
your mom is here.. i should be thanking her.. i should be thanking kaave..

but, most of all, i should be thanking you simply for your continued presence in my life.

warmest, happiest, birthday thoughts and wishes

that's it.. i have to stop this.
it's time to start reading again

my current obsessions can be summarized in terms of recent Google searches:

... why is my basil dying?
... what's wrong with my roses?
... why are the leaves of my tomato plant dry/yellow/wilted?

and, the ominous:

... who is eating my tomatoes?

...now that i've revived the basil, the mint has taken a turn for the worse. we had a thriving little industry, in fact, until yesterday, when god-knows-what happened and it all dried up. i didn't think it was possible to kill mint, but i've done it somehow...

i dreamt of a man who seduced women--under false pretenses, and possibly for money. i didn't mind sleeping with him, once i told him to drop the act

... also, of a creature that appeared suddenly, in the dead of winter, to take people away. a bunch of us (who lived in the forest) tried to find a way out of this, but it was unavoidable--we couldn't predict its arrival. i thought we might be safe inside, but you and i felt its presence in what appeared to be a museum. i thought, for a moment, that we might be wrong; that maybe there is nothing to fear...

I'm pleased to be able to speak with/understand my mother-in-law to some moderate extent--I've become quite adept at asking if she would like tea. But the sorry state of my Persian, after all these years, is really quite embarrassing.....she should have come sooner

i'm deaf and blind to news from any other part of the world--including my own neighbourhood, it seems

no fewer than five fire trucks passed our house at around 3am and i didn't even think to check this morning until one of my co-workers asked: Hey, wasn't that huge fire in your neck of the woods?

i don't know what's going on anywhere else; i don't want to know.. i don't have room for any more tragedy

...With 700 dead and most of them civilians, I simply cannot understand the lack of outrage. Even one child is too many and all we see are moronic, hesitant steps towards something resembling stronger language. An Israeli official who doesn't even deserve to be named put forward some garbage about "restraint" recently, which surely, surely, deserved an incredulous howl of response.

My disgust and horror with all this will take many pages of grief and anguish to explain. I will pause here and just take a moment to acknowledge The Guardian's Peter Beaumont, who is witnessing the carnage first-hand and whose voice has been so prominent this week; and the Israeli human rights group B'Tselem, whose importance as within-group opposition cannot not be understated.

god knows i'm not a supporter of putin but i don't think it's fair to pin the blame for the tragedy of flight MH17 on russia just yet. there has been a lot of finger-pointing (from everyone, russians included) during this complicated situation--all in the absence of real evidence one way or the other. all we know for certain is that the airplane went down over donetsk and, obviously, this only points to the rebels without being conclusive proof of russian involvement. i'm hoping that impartial international observers can put this to rest and i'd like to see a full investigation before any further diplomatic steps are taken. (on the subject of "evidence," i've been ignoring all "recorded conversations" released to the media because both sides seem to be issuing competing recordings within hours or days of each other.)

i will repeat what i've been saying all along: the rebels have behaved suspiciously in denying access to the crash site, contaminating the scene, deleting twitter posts that claim to have downed a plane in the vicinity around the same time (mom, dad, is this being reported on vremya?), etc. and putin--if he really wanted to assert innocence and so on--should have demonstrated goodwill and condolence, if nothing else, by making an immediate public appeal to the rebels, who clearly look to russia for guidance (whether or not they are financed/armed by the latter is irrelevant in the matter of statements).

but none of this is conclusive proof of anything and kerry has been somehow irresponsible in his accusations.

aside: there is an informative article here about what the russian media are saying. (mom, dad, a challenge: find me dissenting voices in major russian papers. i'm going to point out that western media did report the results of a preliminary investigation, which noted that there does not appear to be evidence of russian involvement)

دون دون خوشگل

in the language of your birth,
С днём рожденья

happiest birthday, our little philosopher

جانم،
تولدت مبارک
much love
and many apologies

those putting the blame solely on hamas make the assumption that israel has no choice but to respond to rocket attacks in exactly the way that it's doing--obviously, obviously this is not the case. wake up, people; this is the worst "solution" imaginable.

My productivity this week is less than zero. I've made a conscious effort to stay away from the news on two pressing occasions; other than that, I'm not sure what to say...I haven't done anything at all