I have a first out-of-town guest who is not a family member! Lena came to visit me from Ann Arbor, and it feels like in the old days, only it is easier now to get to all city attractions. She arrived Friday afternoon, and I started work early in the morning so that I could be done for the day by 3 PM.
After a brief tour of my new place, we headed to the Loop. We went to the Art Institute and saw Obama Portraits and Bisa Butler exhibits; then we went to the Millennium Park for the Classic Broadway concert, and then we strolled the night Riverwalk, and we even had time to have a late-night tea on my balcony!
When I opened my apartment door and stepped into the kitchen, I could tell right away that it is warm. The past several days were incredibly hot, and each time I stepped inside my apartment, I felt the coolness. Toda, however, I could tell that the temperature in the apartment is the same as outside.
I had a thousand thoughts right away. I thought: I just told a number of people that the severe weather didn’t damage anything in my apartment! And that I didn’t have a power outage. And that I thought I wouldn’t need to replace an air conditioner before spring. And which repair service should I call?
I was already counting my losses of time and money when I felt that it is starting to cool down. I checked the thermostat – the temperature was indeed coming down!
It was only then that I realized that today was the first day in two weeks that I came home before the time the air conditioner thinks I should be home and starts to cool the apartment!
I immediately remembered what my neighbor said the other day. I asked him where he was – I haven’t seen him for the whole week. He replied with the question: where have you being for the whole week?
I was working!
See – that’s what I mean: you should be at home more!
Last time Boris was here, he talked me into using the bike’s luggage rack. Before that’ I was a little bit sceptical about my abilities to keep the balance/ Also, I didn’t realize how much stuff you can carry on your bike this way. Now, I am shopping at Devon Market, and at once a week the Glenwood Street Market.
And I am planningt to use my bike for shopping as soon long as possible (not sure how winter will look like)
Today is the third day in a row with an excessive heat warning. For the past two days, the heat was accompanied by severe thunderstorms. Yesterday, I went to Siskel Center to watch While Sheikh – the first movie of Fellini’s centennial retrospective.
There was no rain forecasted for yesterday, except for some possibility later in the evening, and since the event was indoors, I thought I would be fine.
There was no rain all day, but when the movie was over, and I was about to exit, I saw that people are crowded by the exit – the rain outside was heavy! I thought I am lucky that the entrance to the Red Line is right in front of the Siskel Center doors and promptly ran there, thinking that I got it light. Well…
Inside the station, I heard the announcement that the traffic on both the Red Line and the Brown Line is stopped because there are trees on the tracks in both cases! I thought of getting out and calling Uber. But then I thought that it is raining like crazy, and many people will be calling Uber, so I might have to wait long, and that it will cost at least fifty bucks under the circumstances. So I waited, listening to announcements and hoping for some positive news.
Forty minutes later, I gave up and left the station to call Uber. And I was right – I was picked up by the second driver (the first canceled), and yes, it cost my 50+ bucks. but at least the rain almost stopped :).
The only reason I call this recipe “Finnish” is because it originally came from my friend from Helsinki. I loved and bake it regularly. Last Saturday, it was the first time I baked it after moving to my new place.
Like all other recipes, it came out perfectly in the gas stove. Also, it was the first time ever I tried to bake it in the bundt cake pan, and not just an bundt cake pan, but the one with the waves. I was not sure whether it will come out well, or it will stick to the form, but it ended up being miraculously good.
I baked two cheesecakes: one with dried fruit, and another one with fresh berries (blueberries, raspberries and blackberries). They tasted differently, b ut both were delicious! (Past tense – both gone :))
Some time ago, I had a conversation about supporting diversity in academia. A person I was talking with asked me what concrete and specific actions would help increase diversity and give opportunities to individuals who can’t succeed in the academic world otherwise. For a while, I was thinking about a good answer. But the more I thought, the more I felt I need to answer another question first.
The question is,whydo we need diversity and inclusion? Many people genuinely believe that diversity and inclusion are buzz words, that it is “fashionable” to talk about diversity, or even worse, that this concept is invented by democrats, or lefts, or communists, or anybody else who corrupts our youth in the universities – you name it.
But the truth is that we all – we as a society, we as a country, we as humanity – all need to foster diversity.
For a couple of weeks, I was reading five different books simultaneously, and this week, I finished two of them. The first one was The Warsaw Orphan by Kelly Rimmer.
The last chapters of the novel were the most unexpected, and most touching to me. While I read enough literature and memoirs of people who survived the Holocaust and the Warsaw Uprising, the part I never understood was how the same people came to terms with the Soviet occupation and feel Poland being their country even under the Communist regime. I tried to understand it when I visited Poland, the country of my ancestors, in the late 80s and 90s. I read this novel as a story of the souls crippled by the horrors of the war, about healing, and rebuilding their lives in the less than ideal circumstances.
Just a week ago, I wrote about the live concerts, how much I missed them, and how I can’t get enough of them now. But today’s concert stands out even among this season’s excellent programs. Today, Augustin Haidelich performed Sibelius Violin Concerto, and I do not have proper words to describe my emotions. I didn’t hear of this concert before, and it carried me away from the very first sound. I was so beautiful; I was barely holding tears after ten minutes of the performance.
The music was becoming more and more beautiful with every note. I felt as if my heart is going to explode. I didn’t know that Sibelius dreamed of becoming a violin virtuoso but lacked the necessary motor skills. In the performance program notes, they cited one of the music critics:
Here is one of the ew concertos that speak Sibelius’s dearest wish to become a great virtuoso Every time this music is performed, the audience hears a love letter written to the violinist Sibelius was never able to become.
I felt it more like an orgy than a love letter, but I can wholeheartedly agree with the level of emotions :).
There was a standing ovation at the end of this piece, and Haidelich went for the encore.
I found multiple recordings of this concerto online.
Some time ago, one of my friends mentioned “a season of watermelons.” My first reaction was, “Is there really such a thing as a season of watermelons? Aren’t they always available? And then I remembered! During my childhood, the season of watermelons was a thing.
Previously, I mentioned the concept of “deficit” in the Soviet Union: anything, which was not available in the stores at any given moment. Anything you had to “look for,” “procure,” “get”. Which meant – most of the things.
Watermelons were grown in the Southern part of Russia, mainly in the delta of the Volga River, in the Astrakhan region. They were ready to be harvested in August-September, and that was the watermelon season. It was impossible to buy a watermelon anytime outside this timeframe.
Watermelons were not sold in the stores. Here and there, on the streets, “watermelon cages” emerged. Inside these cages, watermelons laid on the ground. Customers stayed in long lines, as in any other case of “deficit.” When your turn comes, you are allowed inside the watermelon cage, and you can walk around and pick a watermelon or two, and bring them to the scales, then pay for them and take them home.
Although my mom says that Baba Ania was not allowed to show up in our apartment on Galernaya Street, I remember that she was sometimes visiting. And one of these times was the day of the Watermelon story.
I don’t even remember staying in the line that day; most likely, we were fortunate, and the line was not that long. What I remember is that we were carrying it home, or rather Baba Ania carried it, and I was gingerly skipping alongside her. And the next thing I remember – a watermelon on the asphalt. It was ripe. It was red inside. But at least half of it was broken into small pieces.
I do not remember how Baba Ania managed to collect most of these parts. But I remember sitting in our giant kitchen, while the broken watermelon is sitting in the middle of a table in front of me. Baba Ania put some broken pieces on the saucer, and I was eating them with a spoon – a deficit should not be wasted!
***
Once again, there is a huge gap in the line of photos. Here are several pictures all taken one afternoon at Alexandrovskiy Park. and at the nearby Dvortsovaya Embankment. I can’t imagine what would be a specific reason for taking pictures on that day. No relation to the story, except for it’s September, a watermelon season. Most likely, about a year later than the Watermelon Story.
Hettie's Reflections 