Acorns, trees, and not falling far....

Isn't modern technology a wonderful thing? Yesterday morning, my dad and I had a text conversation via Skype and it occurred to me that anyone who's trying to 'get' the British sense of humour might find this exchange helpful:

Dad (in answer to an email I wrote telling him I was looking at the AMAZING train journey site Seat 61 whilst considering a trip on the Trans Siberian Railway this summer): Send me the link then

Me: No sooner said than done: http://www.seat61.com/Trans-Siberian.htm

Dad: I'd heard about this site but never used it. Fantastic.... I've got a blue tit* hanging upside down from the gutter looking at me!

Me: Too - many - jokes - but I'll start with, is it still cold there then?

Dad: No, but it really is a great tit**.

Me: Speaking of birds, will e-mail a photo for you to identify some that were outside this morning... (note; My dad is a font of knowledge about such things...)

Dad: Go ahead. I'll just go and get the anorak on.

Me: Just sent them...

Dad (around 60 seconds later): Waxwing... Probably en route to Siberia after winter in W. Europe

Me: Thankyou. Did you have to look that up?

Dad: No. It's been a good year for them here in the UK. Probably because of severe weather in Scandinavia.

Me: And of course the beer's cheeper in the UK, too... (two jokes in one. I am on FIRE)

Dad: And more opportunities for tweeting.

Me: A truer word...

Dad: PS They enjoy the tits*** in the Sun as well!

Me: Thankyou very much, I'll be here all week.

Ends...

Explains a lot about me, doesn't it...

* For those outside the UK, a 'blue tit' is a type of bird/

** As is a 'great tit'

*** Here, we're not talking about birds. Not the feathered kind, at any rate.

Togetherness - apart

It's Week 46 of Tara's Gallery, and this week's theme is 'Togetherness'...

Life can be a bit shit sometimes - yes, even here, in expat heaven. Luckily, for me at least, there are compensations, like the wonderful birthday lunch that a friend hosted for me in her home yesterday where I was totally bowled over by the warmth and generosity I felt from people who in real terms I've known for only a relatively short time. It seems to me that one of the benefits of growing older is that we all become better at making worthwhile friendships. I'm not sure why that is; perhaps we take less notice of the book cover and more notice of what lies inside. Or maybe we waste less time judging and more time just enjoying each other's company.

Well, whatever it is, I have to say that it certainly makes turning thirty-fourteen a whole lot easier. Thankyou, ladies. You brighten my life.

As did a visit by my sister this weekend just passed. Growing up we had a love/hate relationship. It wasn't until I left home that we became real friends rather than simply blood relations, and now she's my best friend, the one to whom I can tell all, and the one with whom I can spend five minutes on a skype call cracking up at our attempts to mimic those cctv camera shots of a bobsleigh team going round a corner at high speed. (Well, sis was doing the hard work actually, in her husband's bright red ski-helmet with her face pressed right up close to the webcam. Lord, the things you can find funny at the end of a long day...).

Anyway, I'm not going to show you that shot, but one of the pair of us looking glamourous in the snow (ha!) as we stood in front of the massed tanks, planes, and guns of the Red Army Museum here in Moscow on Sunday. Yep, we really know how to show our visitors a good time...

Yesterday's definition of 'Idiocy'..

... is deciding, whilst making a relish for a bbq, to check that the chilli peppers you're using are not as bland as they look by touching your hand to your mouth after chopping them up.

And yesterday's definition of 'Relief' is discovering that the myth about a drink of milk helping to remove chilli-oil from your tongue does actually have some basis in fact, after all.

Whilst today's definition of 'Disbelief' is the discovery that your Husband has taken your lap-top charger away to London with him for the week. (Cue 'The Scream' face as you contemplate a week on your own with the kids in Moscow without blogging, e-mail, internet and - for fuck's sake - Skype. Apologies for the cursing by the way, but really - no access to any of the above would make any expat blogger use a few choice expletives, I promise...).

(And today's definition of 'A Reprieve - for Him' is the discovery that if you cannibalise one of his redundant lap-tops you are able to replace the missing part with no harm done. But sssh - we're not going to share that with him yet. Are we?)