Its been a good weekend. I found some good music, and some bootlegged dvds in english. I also took new photos to share with you all. Ive seen some interesting things recently. Im in my kitchen, listening to the cure and guzzling Molodovan wine after a tasty spaghetti meal. It seems Russia isn't too happy with Moldova and Georgia's recent western leaning policies and in retaliation have decided to ban importation of the delicious wines that those regions produce. Its very sad as Russia is there biggest market and there isnt much coming out of poor Molodova besides wine. /Raises glass/ "Heres to you Moldova, and to you Georgia!"

Times change, and some people have trouble accepting that. This surly Babushka is protesting the fact that Russia is no longer the Soviet Union. She is holding the flag of the USSR, and her sign reads, "President Putin-Oligarch Man-Thief and Lackey of Washington." I do admire her handwriting though, this sign was painstaingly created! She snarled at me when she saw me take the picture, but I just had to. Seeing babushkas like this, walking the streets, caressing photos of Stalin, makes me more than glad I chose my own apartment over a home stay!

Seasons also change, and winter is finally, fully, leaving this slushy burg. These decaying ice plates on the surface of the once-solid Neva river are tell-tale signs of the approach of spring. If you take the time to enlarge this picture youll notice an orange, tank-like, conveyance rolling over the bridge in the background. They call that a tramvia here. I was surprised to here the word tramvia used in Russian, as my only point of reference is the graceful, gliding, tranvias of Bilbao, Spain. They were a light green, the interiors wafted the sterile smell of perfumed sanitizers and classical music drifted down upon the passengers. Russian tramvias are full of drafts that admit fierce patches of icy winter air as they chug, sludge, and rattle through the streets. I like them a lot. Its like riding in the biggest volvo ever made with 30 strangers who may or may not be drunk.

This is a poster for the cat expo I went to today. I couldnt find a cat that spoke to me with its eyes and paws that cost less than 300 dollars (6000 some odd rubles). Meagan and I are becoming known in the Russian cat circuit as the Americans (and sometimes Hungarians) seeking a Russian blue. There are many things I imagined for myself when I was a boy. Never among those things was notoriety in the elite Russian cat breeders circuit. Wonders never cease.As I mentioned in my last post, as the season truly shifts, the ice melts. Things that were long buried by the white blanket re-emerge, much to our collective dismay. Dog shit, broken bottles, baby booties, socks, gloves, frozen chunks of bile, as well as bones originating from various meats. However, the most abundant thawed treasure appears to be cigarette butts! Russians do love their smokes, and why walk to the garbage receptacle when there is a perfectly good snow bank right at your feet! This photos is the result of just such a mentality! Russia! Love it!