If you ever run out of the stuff. . .let me know. . .Susan, my friend in Nara, sends me all kinds of that stuff. . .

We had roast pork with 5-pepper enchilada sauce, baked sweet potatoes and pineapple bread pudding with turbinado sugar caramelized on top. . .I was going to blog to the table, but I was busy playing with the pictures, doing laundry and domestic stuff so we can take in hazmat training this weekend.

Congratulations on home ownership. . .

As the DJ used to bellow into his microphone:

Who's in da house?

The answer tonight is "Mastandrea is in the house." Tonight's report from Cuyahoga County has it that a deed has been filed with the town making Cookie and Mojo co-stewards of a four-bedroom workshop on a tree-lined street in Berea.

Tonight I was doing some computer stuff, so eating was a secondary concern. As I loaded software to my erratic tablet computer, I tossed some rice into the cooker and when it was ready I got out the furikake and some ginger sauce and whatever else I could find in the fridge.

Ah, rice and furikake... Reminds me of college... Come to think of it, this jar may have been in my cabinet since college.

Played with Ellexa's picture. . .cropped it, fixed the red eye and gave the picture a soft cloud background

Did it over. . .like this one even better. . .

I too must say: wow. Bazzukajoe's latest photo attachment intrigues me. Didn't Frylock recently attend a costume party dressed as that thrill ride?

Come to think of it, I think Ree went to that same party, also dressed as a thrill ride.

Oh i forgot something....
Aunt phyllis do you know this ride?
It was at the fair.......

I was wondering why we didnt recreate this photo. We were all together.

WOW. Is an excellent word to describe a truly great week. I had quite a time eating, talking drinking and eating again. I have hours of driving cd's to keep road rage at bay on the drives home. Thanks Joe. It was great to finally get back in touch. My memory of the last times you were in new york were fuzzy at best. I now have memories that you have made clear. And I am very happy and impressed that Joe and Ellie made this journey. Thank you. I hope we have not damged you both beyond recovery. Especially Orlando. I was not too worried as i know Joe has an extensive background in disaster management. We missed alane and the men very much. John discussed the men extensively with Ellexa in closed door conferencing. It appeared to be successful. She has finally started laughing. Now its more fun when she acknowledges you are actting like an ass to get her attention. Well, Ellexa has been steadily increasing the amount of accesories she will utilize each day. Her purse contains her pacifier.

I am amazed and glad to finally see connecticut has made it to the blog. Thank you Aunt Phyllis for coming on a whim to check out the squirt. She has been quite fun. Like a new toy. She is a little tiring but i think i was too as i recall. You do remember babysitting me
and steve? well maybe just me.

Ill post some more pics soon...

Planting one's feet and being stubborn? Now where else have I seen that trait...?

Nope. Must be an Akita-only thing.

This picture is for Ree. . .my hair was long. . .I cut it really short for the trip.

Forgive me for not posting sooner, but I am still drop-dead exhausted. I do, however, want to add my heart-felt thanks to those of Joe's. It was a wonderful experience that I will never forget. I will cherish this family forever for their loving kindness. I will repeat what I said to Joe frequently, "How did I get to be a princess?" Thanks again for the royal treatment. I have never had family before this and now I know what I (we) have been missing.

Please convey my thanks, too, to the non-bloggers, Vinny and Marie, Jessica and Ellexa (she is a beautiful girl and I hope she grows up computer-savvy), Marlena and John, and to the "extended family": Phyllis & Ada, Bobby & family, Phyllis & Joe & Janine, & Steve and Nick, Kelly & Brianna, and Uncle Vinny. My apologies to anyone I have forgotten.

I want to thank you all for the pictures, too, especially Maria Rose for not only taking pictures but printing them out and sharing them. You are a very special lady, Ree, and I am honored to know you. Please feel free to send more pictures at anytime to our Yahoo accounts. We are thrilled to have them and plan on building a family album.

I will be happy to edit photos to the best of my ability anytime any of you request it.

Thank you, Alane, for sharing John with us. I sincerely hope that the next time we get together, we have the pleasure of your and the boys' company.

I am overwhelmed and I still get tears in my eyes when I think of the week. . .if I hadn't just experienced it, I wouldn't have believed it to be possible to cram that much fun, love and laughter into such a small period of time.

The pizza crust is on the blog and the dough for the four large pizzas was eight times the amount as posted. Also, I used barley malt extract instead of sugar since I now have a source for it at the organic grocery store that opened in Omaha. Thank you, too, Steve, for the sauce and meatballs that made the pizza . . .without your help, it would not have been the same!

And Tarka, of course, thanks Steve for the tender loving care. She doesn't, however, apologize for planting her feet and being stubborn. It's an Akita trait.

At the risk of sounding like another blogger here, "Wow."

What a week. Thanks to everyone at Spumoni South for the invitation and remarkable hospitality. Although we've already seen some fantastic photos they only scratch the surface of what can only be called an amazing visit. Or maybe it was more of a three-day hug. Thanks again to everyone for the fun, for catching up, and special thanks to The Big Kahuna and Marie for catalyzing and hosting our gathering.

It was great meeting new family members and catching up with others not seen in up to over a dozen years. Walking in the Atlantic surf was even better than I had anticipated while sitting at that tiki bar in Cocoa Beach last July. The Universal Theme Park was more fun than I could have imained, no doubt due to sharing the expreience with nearly two dozen family members. My first visit to a Hard Rock Cafe will, most likely, be my best ever.

Phyllis sent me a couple of table photos that I haven't seen posted here, so I'll post them and beg forgiveness at the same time.














I feel recharged after catching up with everyone despite the long drive back. The Wonderdog ate her first Milk Bone in over a week last night, although I'm not sure why she wouldn't eat them on the road. We've slept most of the time since we got home.

Great museum photos, Alane! We're sorry you missed this trip. Hopefully all is well in eastern Ohio.

Cookie, on the other hand, is always in the midst of building a contraption of some sort. Even when what he's really doing is stacking his toys in elaborate piles: he will stand back and announce to everyone that it's some kind of candy-making machine or something. So it's not that surprising to hear from Alane that he wanted his picture taken next to the big yellow engine.

Did he try to add any new parts? Perhaps convert it into a robot?

I have often noticed how dinner-table conversation among Mastandreas inevitably turns to talk of poop. It's almost as if the natural progression of our thought process mirrors the cycle of digestion.

And so it is hardly surprising to see a picture of Mojo at the Cleveland Science Museum taking a happy stroll down the alimentary canal. Alane will have to provide the details -- I suspect he's at the stomach. He's got miles to go before he sleeps!

Too bad there isn't a picture of him making it to the end. I would title that photo: The Real Jojo-Berry.

I just don't feel right washing my ass with this stuff. And Bazzukajoe knew that would be the case when he gave the bottle to me.

Okay, I did almost bite into my arm at one point...

Is it possible to bring a cup of coffee into the shower? Maybe in a travel mug?

As for the trip... Yes, now that I am fed I can share the tales. We ate. We laughed. We talked... loudly and all at once. People came from all over -- from Connecticut, Nebraska, and Brooklyn we swarmed into the sunshine. And there were quiet moments: I had some quality time with Ellexa, a chance to tell her all about her cousins Cookie and Mojo. She gurgled, drooled and farted -- and that's how I know she understood every word. The Big Kahuna was in top form this week -- I could barely keep up with the pace that he and Marie kept.

This morning I washed using some of the shower gels that Bazzukajoe gave me: Cinnamon Buns and Coconut Frosting, both of which smelled way too much like candy to feel comfortable in a lather (much like the chocolate syrup he had in the shower at Spumoni South -- I pretended to make a banana split).

Anyway, I'm still exhausted, but in a satisfied that-was-fun sort of way. I'm going to sleep now. And if Frylock doesn't post to the blog by Sunday, I'm going back to Florida to give him the much-needed bitch-slap (or maybe just to force-feed him the leftover anchovies -- wow, I need a drink of water right now).

Wow, I just went a little crazy. Got back from Stew Leonard's with some much-needed grocery-stuff and the first thing I did was get my really really heavy dutch oven hot on the stovetop. Into it went Italian sausage. Then a handful of garlic cloves smashed with the broadside of a knife. As the broccoli rabe rinsed under the tap I sliced a tomato, cut big hunks of ciabatta bread, and opened a small jar of anchovies. I poured olive oil over all of it. I uncorked the trebbiano and poured some over the sausages, then filled a glass. When the sausage was browned the greens went in along with another big splash of wine and olive oil. I opened a can of white beans and poured it in. As it simmered I ate bread with tomato and anchovie, sipping wine, thinking: "This is working out well." I dished out some of my creation. Now things were really working.

So now I'm kicking back, blogging and IM-chatting with Bazzukajoe.

I need to restock on olive oil.

I have returned. It was sunny and in the 80s when I left for the airport; here it is winter. There are many tales to tell. I haven't eaten that much food in a while. And Steve saved my ritualistic ass, showing up at the eleventh hour with a key lime pie from Kosters. I'm not sure where to start with it all, so I won't -- at least not tonight.

Maybe Steve will provide the first volley?

BTW, air travel is still blowjhinski. TSA makes nothing safer, it just makes things more annoying.

That may or may not be the line. If it were the line it would still be intact. Broadway Joe, regrettably, wasn't there. Joe Sr. was there with numerous current and former Fatones. What a blast on top of a wonderful day of attractions and a marvelous family dinner. For the record, I never had an Appletini before and it was actually far too tasty.

Thanks for the suggestion, you can't get a more classic form of payment. Ellie and I are indebted for your caring for Tarka, especialy since she is still 'under the weather' from the trip, the flea and tick lotion or both.

I couldn't resist calling the castle this morning and relaying The Great Prognosticator's comments. Hopefully Vito will visit again.

I'm looking forward to dinner tonight and taking a new version of a claasic photo at the Big Kahuna's request. I can't thank everyone enough for the wonderful experiences we've had.

Was there a line in the song "Fishheads" that went " you never see Joemaha in a gay bar in Orlando sipping appletinis with Broadway Joe and Dr. Sfingi...."? Or is my memory just playing tricks on me? I know I can ask Cookie and Mojo and they can answer if for me.

John speaks the truth, I had an amazing time watching over Tarka the Wonderdog yesterday. I'm wondering if she responds to me because she can sense I like dogs....or she believes I'm a special needs patient in need of therapy. Well she got the therapy part right.....okay she probably got the special needs part right as well. I havent told the Big Kahuna that I get overtime pay for anything over eight hours when I babysit dogs...5:30am-2:30am, would be 8 hours straight and 13 hours overtime. Lucky for him, I accept all three of the major forms of payment: ravioli, broccoli rabe, and eggplant.

I understand that Joe Fatone Sr. is now moonlighting as a Vegas statistician after accurately predicting the odds of Uncle Vito being in Florida....using a mosquito and a barrell instead of a scientific calculator.

I also wanted to reference Saturday's post in which my cousin John publicly announced that I live a deranged life. My response is this: it would be less shocking and ironic if Al Sharpton accused me of having a silly haircut. Must I really mention the gorilla suit in Amsterdam?

Returning now from O-town. We're on the Florida Turnpike, halfway to Jupiter. Spent the day with the Fatones. Steve is watching the dog.

This morning I washed in chocolate.

As much as I like to tell myself that I was not scarred by my childhood, I am occasionally reminded that I did reach the threshold of self-awareness during the 1970s. And that's why I had to cringe as I walked through the Staples in Yonkers today where the speakers were blaring You Don't Have to Be a Star, Baby by Marilyn McCoo and Billy Davis Jr.

The silver-lining? Yet another song-memory association, hardlinked in my synapses from some 30 years. It was Christmas Day and we were all at Big Vin's. That song came on (either the radio or Vin's reel-to-reel -- it's a coin-toss which). Vinny sang: "You don't have to be a--" and he pointed to the top of his Christmas tree "--star, baby..." Since that day, I think that scene replayed in my mind every single time I heard that song.

And now that I check the clock I have to wonder: has the eagle landed?

Got an IM from Frylock earlier when I was on my way out to do some chores. It said:

I told Vin I'm naming my first kid mostaccioli, regardless if it's boy or girl

Sensible? Perhaps. I spoke to him a few minutes ago and he was trying to find the right combination of fake-moustache and Hawaiian shirt to make him look like Magnum P.I.

The man leads a totally deranged life.

I also talked to Alane who told me how she took Da Chimpz to see monster trucks yet again. The boys were very excited because they got to walk up to Gravedigger. I'll remind Alane that Blogger does have a feature for posting photos with one's text. Hint.

And when I listen to the Untouchables singing Freak in the Street I think of cooking bacon and eggs in our campus apartment at 2 a.m. when we were supposed to be doing our homework. We made Guido cook.

And now that I think of that apartment, and its kitchen, I think of Madness' One Step Beyond and the stuffed calamari that Guido and Mike cooked with the music blaring and we all got so excited we tilted the sofa onto its side and slid it into the kitchen.

And when I listen to the Violent Femmes I think of being on the beach at Hilton Head in the spring of 1985.

This could go on and on...

This will trigger a 10-year-old Shawn Colvin pop tune in the heads of two, maybe three, people on the entire face of the earth:

Vinny came home
to the bagels...

Steve knows what we're singing here. So does Simms. And they remember where we all went that day. And what we ate when we got back.

Song-memory association. Hmmm. Interesting. I preface this by saying these are not allsongs I enjoy hearing, I simply have memeories attached to them (I aim this particularly at Mambo #5, that song hurts)

"I Got My Mind Set On You" By George Harrison. Back in the Christmas of 1987, we heard this seven hundred times while driving the 24 hours to Florida in a powder blue 1979 Chevy Impala Station Wagon. If I hear it I picture us humming along while laying down in the rear section of that car.

"Oh What A Night" by the Four Seasons. At the Communion of Joe Gagalia's daughter Valentina, the whole party stopped so that a man could grab the mike and give an unforgettable performance...that man's name was Cousin Jimmy. Who's cousin he was is still a mystery but what I do know is everytime I hear the song I picture him up there and I say out loud "Hey its Cousin Jimmy!"

"At The Hop" by some 50s group. We all know when I hear this I picture Joe Fatone Sr.'s sitting in his patio singing "when your ass gets kinda itchy you can stop scratch your pishy at the Hop" ....and its funny every time. The mans a genius.

"Lady Marmalade"by Missy Elliot, Mya, Pink and Christina. My mother singing karaoke at a bar joined by her sister Phyllis and the girls and laughing so hard she peed herself...live on stage. Even Ozzie Osbourne was never so bold.

"Mambo #5" by Lou Bega. This of course is the trip I made with Bazzuka Joe and Steve Fatone to Club Safari a few years back and watched a shmuck jump on stage in a zuit suit and ridiculously try to dance and act out the lyrics. he came up short on all counts...in particular when Lou Bega shouts "The TRUMPET!!", except this genius would act out playing the trombone. Right beside this guy on stage was awhite-haired octogenarian degenerate on pcp who was molesting a pair of college girls.....to the music. It was a troubling night.

Sitting on the train this morning I decided I wanted to listen to some "newer" music, so I put on some Lo Fidelity All Stars. I was grooving to How to Operate with a Blown Mind when I realized this stuff isn't all that new... It was seven years ago that I bought the CD. And that was a little depressing.

I still dig the music -- I remember listening to it while trolling the streets of Amsterdam with my maniacal co-workers back in 1999. In fact, when I listen to the CD I always think of that wacky, wacky trip.

Funny how music gets associated with distinct memories.

Gamecube Update: Last week we got two more controllers, enabling us to play Smash Brothers as a family! It was a riot, figuratively as well as literally. Other times, its was me against Da Chimpz (they'd team up against me) or the three of us against the computer (with the computer as the fourth character, and Cookie playing with that character's difficulty setting). It was great fun.

Some interesting mail this evening... Some belated Valentines Day cards, one from Alane and one from the boys. The latter included a "#1 Dad" sticker that I must wear to the office tomorrow.

There was also an official-looking envelope from the New York courts: a juror questionnaire. Great. These people tried to yank me into service a few years ago -- at exactly the same time the feds were hauling me down to Foley Square for jury duty with them. Over the years, I've done time with both state and fed, and I can confidently say that both experiences suck mightily. A guy I worked with told me about a friend of his who got called into lengthy service. He was so annoyed by the whole thing that he got an apartment across the Hudson River -- changing his court jurisdiction, disqualifying himself. When I was stuck on endless, mindless grand jury duty, that Hoboken guy was my hero.

Well, soon enough I will be happily outside the New York jursidiction.

Call it a Fiat 128 and people think, "ah, small, old-europe rally car." Call it a Yugo, and people start telling malicious jokes. As if the Americans are building anything better these days.

Still, I wish I had thought to convert mine to a wood-burning engine back in the day when mine was running the roads (and I mean back in the day -- I think it's been over 10 years since I junked that thing). That car rocked: it always started, it performed surprisingly well in city traffic, it fit into any parking space, and no one was ever tried to steal it.

Well, I made it. Actually been in for over and hour. I had expected my trip to be a bit more Iditarod-like. As it turns out, once I escaped the snow-squalls of Ohio, it was a clear shot through Pennsylvania (well, a little schizo, with periods of sunshine punctuated with passing clouds of blowing snow).

Bottom line: dry pavement al the way into New Jersey. Only as I got closer to the eastern end of the Garden State did I see fresh snow and wet roads. And it wasn't until I got off I-87 in Westchester that I saw a road completely covered with snow -- Central Avenue, which is no surprise, given the street-care acumen of Yonkers (just ask Guido).

Anyway, there are huge piles of snow outside, and it sounds like Metro North is going to be wacked-out tomorrow. I just took some junk food out of the oven, so I'm going to settle down in front of Euronews and bed down for the night.

It's quiet here without the boys.

That's funny, I don't remember playing air-guitar with the giant icicle...

Da Chimpz insisted on going outside last evening, even though it was very Yukon-like out there. We made toys out of the huge icicles that have been forming on the eaves -- the one in the picture was the biggest I was able to take down.

Oh, and peep the ride: that little thing next to Mojo is the new family chariot. The Jeep (also pictured) now falls to utility-infielder status and will be making the long trek back to Tuckahoe... maybe today... or maybe tomorrow when that Nor'easter is finally done with us.

It's snowing outside right now -- just a few inches, reports Alane as she brings in the Plain Dealer just now from the driveway. I'm about to check the Weather Channel to get the NYC scoop. What's the chance our favorite weather reporter is standing outside Carnegie Deli, holding a microphone in one hand and his pastrami in the other? Or would he walk a few blocks to Rock Center and share meteorological ecstasies with that fat bastard from another network?

If I was there right now, there'd be a snowball with his name on it. A yellow one.

And speaking of snow, it looks like there will be a ton of it on the ground when I get back to New York tomorrow evening. I better get a set of sled-skids for the Jeep -- getting through the hills of PA might get a little winter-olympic-like.

Yesterday I took the boys to see Alane at her office. There were conflicting conclusions as to whose office they like better, mine or hers. Alane had given them each a box of jawbreakers, and that tainted the jury-pool. But they did remember that my office "has a lot of toys" so it was at best a split decision. We got there on the local rapid transit system which shares much of it's right-of-way with some busy freight lines -- the boys never saw so many freight trains at once. They were glued to the glass. There aren't many tunnels to speak of, so there's plenty to see. And as we rolled into our station I couldn't help but notice how they've built up the downtown -- with warehouses converted to apartments, modern office buildings, and the giant monstrosity of a football staduim perched beside the lakefront.

ANd the wind coming off the water? Friggin' cold.

The weather patterns of Northeast Ohio fascinate me -- with the air coming off the lake (usually toward the east) there can be some rather dramatic and strangely localized snowfalls. Even Wednesday's little snow-dump barely registered on the east side of the county, or so we heard. Normally the snow belt (for the lake effect snow) is a little north and a little east of where we are. Thank heavens. I went jogging Thursday afternoon across the semi-frozen wasteland of streets and often thought I was going to slip and fall onto my ass. Fortunately, I remained upright.

Now, as for the road construction patterns of the NYC metropolitan area... that fascinates me too. And not in a good way. I remember in the old days I used to drive on the Long Island Expressway fairly often and they had just installed the overhead signs that could flash inaccurate messages about upcoming detours or lane closures. On quiet weekend mornings it would read: "Normal traffic conditions ahead." I often wondered to myself what that meant. Normal? For the L.I.E? Does that mean "Prepare to stop"? Experience showed that the meaning was more or less random.

I'm sure I'll enjoy lots of road construction excitement on the lonely drive back to Tuckahoe this weekend. I shall take note of my pleasure and bring tales of my adventures back to the blog (the only honorable thing to do).

Is "around here" Ohio? In Nebraska we would have welcomed the snow. . .very dry and very cold and windy here. . .the winter wheat crop is probably suffering and spring will definitely be a challenge for farmers if we don't get more moisture in the ground. . .a friend in Elyria, Oh, sent me pictures of the snow storm. She was in weather-shock as the storm hit one day after she returned from her two-week trip to Louisiana. . .Florida is sounding really nice to me. . .I am not sure I will ever want to go home from there as I dislike living in Nebraska in any season (they have two: winter and road construction)

This week I said to myself, "It sure snows a lot around here." And then I thought, Bazzukajoe might respond by saying: "Ooh... We don't that that problem around here." And Joe-maha would probably say, "You have no idea." And then I thought, "What would Vito say?"

BTW, Alane printed Bazzukajoe's father-daughter photo and has it framed over her desk at work. It's only a matter of time before someone looks at it closely and asks, "What are they wearing?"

So John Paul cried because he wasn't going to school today. Sounds like Ree. We used to try to get her to stay home from school all the time but she never would. If she was really sick and she HAD to stay home she was a nightmare. she spent the entire day yapping about all the stuff she was mising and had to make up. We always made fun of her. Strange children. If my mom said stay home today ...........are you kidding. i went to back to bed.

So i hear good news. John and Joe will make a pilgrimage. Thats awesome. Maybe we can hit the driving range.......NO BATTING CAGES. I will be waiting.

I have decided that Nextel is posiibly the worst phone system i have ever had. i will put up with it till my contract is up but then that phone is getting tossed. Ithink i may give it to john so he can lay it on the train tracks for its rightful departure from this world

Cookie is going to miss school today -- he woke up with a loud, hoarse cough that just sounds terrible. It was scheduled as half a day anyhow, so he won't miss much. We have teacher conferences in the afternoon, so we look forward to finding out just what kind of evil geniuses these boys are when they're in the classroom. They sure do like school, which is good (Cookie cried when Alane told him he couldn't go in today).

At Cookie's urging, I tried my hand at Monkey Ball last night on the Gamecube. The screen he wanted me to clear for him was infuriatingly difficult. I eventually made it through (but almost threw the game controller out the window).

This victory has strengthened the soul of Asteroth!

I know I'm no sports expert, but in today's browser travels I did see a fair amount of chatter confirming what I thought I was seeing during last night's game. In other words, if I had watched the second half I only would have seen more of the same penalty nonsense. I'm not saying the game was rigged -- it really didn't matter to me who won. I just wanted to see outcomes that made sense. Wanna make the game more accessible to novices like me? Let 'em play. Holding? Roughness? Low tackle? Pass interference? Gimme a break -- people get more aggressive piling out of the train each morning. Watching the first half of that game was a total waste of my time; skipping the rest was a true gift to myself.

I just put the boys to bed, reading to them a series of Shel Silverstein poems. I probably won't watch much more of the game -- sat through the first half and saw ref calls on two pivotal plays that this layman just didn't understand. Screw it... I don't watch enough football to care very much. Just a few weeks until spring training. I'll get to watch Mets games on cable when they're playing Atlanta (pretty much all the time) or Chicago (different division, so not as much).

And of course, there's always the Indians to cheer for.

I'm sleepy. Didn't get good rest last night. Stayed up to watch Life Aquatic, another in a series of Bill Murray head-scratchers. It was mildly amusing. Very mildly amusing. It's very rare that I take the time to sit through a feature length film. Now I remember why.

EVDO rocks. I'm sitting here in the waiting area of gate C12 at LGA hooked to the Internet on my ancient IBM 600x and life is good. I couldn't bum a ride to the airport this morning so I took the MNR to GCT and then got a bus. I could've saved $10 by getting off the train at 125th Street and taking the M60, but I had a very heavy suitcase -- and besides, I wanted to stop at Zaros and get black-and-white cookies for Da Chimpz.

I think we waited at this gate a few summers ago when we flew to Denver -- I remember camping out at the corner of this waiting area, sitting on the window ledge, watching the planes take off and land. I also remember taking Mojo kicking and screamin down the jetway when it was time to board.

That kid has some attitude.

Maybe I'll pull a Mojo when it's time for me to board in a half hour... Just for old times sake. THen i can blog the results...

That post probably had a lot to do with food because the best family get-togethers are often when we break bread together, share wine and fellowship. We couldn't ask for more at the table, now could we?

Gotta recommend the new Rammstein album, Rosenrot. Been playing that for myself the last few times out jogging -- that stuff really gets you moving. ("Like charging into Poland," Julio suggested; "Or like fleeing from Bastogne," I offered in return.)

Has Merle played the song Moskau for herself and Jenia? It's from their previous release Riese Riese.

Raz dva tri!

Wow. I have to learn how to post to the correct blog. That message had nothing to do with food.

Or did it?