Если я Был Переплетен На Необитаемом острове...

OR:

 If I Were Stranded On A Desert Island...

These are the things I simply could not live without.  

I am giving the Desert Island a bit more than a nod due to the down right nasty  inclement weather we are experiencing today.  I walked out of the house this morning, put my  (luckily flat-soled, UGGS shod)  foot down on the pavement, and was instantly  skating.

The world was clad in an inch of solid ice. The other foot had not caught up and remained outstretched behind me.  After a perfectly executed triple selcow I crashed into the hood of my car.  On the other side of the driveway.   Ever so slightly downhill from the steps I had left mere moments ago.  While rain dripped off the hood of my  parka, I tried to do the  Inch-Back-Up-The-Ice  dance. You know the one. Under no circumstances attempt to remove either one of your feet -  no matter how much trust you have in them as individuals -   from Mother Earth, or your back end will be the victim of gravity, and with such velocity you will be regretting lifting that darn foot for days. 

A few hours little while later, after safely negotiating the traverse, I was sitting in the living room watching the news, when my peripheral vision caught a swift movement outside the window.  It was another HUMAN VS. ICE battle. 

Evidently what had caught my eye was a person -   must have trusted a foot without looking beneath it - who had done a butt-plant-slide   (awarding a 10 for speed, as I did not witness the slide itself)  across the sidewalk, over the little grassy meridian, and was stopped about two feet into the street, where the road treatment the night before had actually worked.   

I grabbed my coffee and raced out to the front porch.  You just knew this was going to be great! a difficult return to the steps.   After nearly a half an hour of struggling to get up, the woman gave up, remained on her hands and knees, and did a combo of inching forward-sliding back until she was near her front steps. I feel justified (since I had indeed just suffered the same fate) in confessing I was in silent hysterics.  Instead of skating she was doing the balance beam.  My eyes teared up and I needed a Kleenex.  Just when I thought the show was over the woman's husband emerged from the house, carefully edged his way to the corner of the porch, and said to his wife, who was within inches of her goal, still on all fours, " We're born naked and hungry, and then it gets worse."    

Thought I'd die, I was wheezing, I slumped in my lawn chair doubled over waiting for her less than cataclysmic reply,   "Shut-Up and throw me a rope Einstein." 

Simply precious.  I imagine someone else had a great guffaw at my admittedly more graceful adventure as well, at least I hope so, an escapade like that is a terrible thing to waste, ahem....

Hence today's Desert Island Dream.  

CALGON Take Me Away,   Please?

Well, apparently my computer is not totally repaired.  It does not want to read my SD card therefore my list will have to suffice.

Things I need for my grass hut...

My glasses, with gradient lenses.

My reading glasses, due to unfortunately reaching that 'certain age.'

Because someday I fully intend to set foot on Russian soil, the most horrific, tragic, yet beautiful love story through letters to each other,

A Lifelong Passion, Nicholas & Alexandra - Their Own Story  Letters edited by Andrei Maylunas and Sergei Mironenko

 

Spanning the past two hundred years of Russian history, Echoes Of A Native Land by Sergi Schemann

 

 And because every time I read these I discover something new about my own mind,

The Griffin and Sabine series by Nick Bantock

Hippolyte's Island  by Barbara Hodgson

In case I discover something, I will need to know that those who have gone before have not laid eyes on whatever it is, aside from never tiring of this book,  The Origin of The Species by Charles Darwin.

My solar electronic device charger with every adaptor known to man, for the new E-Reader my kids are going halves on and buying me for Christmas ( with an extra large storage card, yippeee!). 

 But I don't know that...   No, I wasn't eaves-dropping.  I will be a mother my entire life, much to my chagrin, even though my 'kids' are grown.  It still gives me the chills when I hear whispering.  In fact it makes me downright nervous.  Especially when I know they are conspiring talking to each other.  I merely made popcorn.  In the kitchen.  Just outside my son's bedroom door.  After he told me he was calling his sister and asked me not to bother him, just before he shut his door.    It was then he began to whisper.

Oh, and a case of the Russian red wine introduced to me by friends associated with the AMERICAN FRIENDS OF RUSSIAN GEORGIA charitable organization. And one wineglass.

To quote Naven,   "And that's all I need!"