1. My passport
2. My ATM card
3. Not my hairbrush — I joked that the FSB (successor to the KGB) had snuck in and stolen it to get my DNA, but as I began unpacking this morning, bingo! there it was.
4. 20 lbs. of myself — I weigh less than 200 lbs. for the first time in probably a decade. Shows what climbing stairs every day and walking a lot, even on sore knees, can do for you.
5. My Oxford Beginner’s Russian-English dictionary — lost it somewhere during the frenzy of the day when I lost my passport
6. My Kastner’s Russian-English dictionary — left for Irina to make use of as she sees fit
7. My unwillingness to ask for help
8. My glasses, but Sergei says he’s found them and will send them to me when he gets back to Boston
9. My traveler’s battery-powered electric toothbrush — I got it to avoid having to figure out electricity conversion for my SonicCare. I’m not sure it did much more than hum officiously, but I’m glad I had it while I did.
About #7, I never remember you having an unwillingness to ask for help.
That’s a really interesting observation. I never hesitated to ask you or Siva or Steve for help. Not sure why, must have been that I knew how much more you guys knew than I did. But in my personal life, I always felt I had to do it all myself. Probably leftover from single motherhood.
You obviously did not leave your great wit and humorous self behind, thank goodness!
So in your opinion, Roberta, which required the most courage? Being stuck in Russia without a passport, or being a single mother?
What about the passport and ATM card. Did you recover those?
Nanette: being a single parent, by a long, long shot.
Christi: nope, they remain in Russia. Both have been replaced.
Thank you for that clarification, Roberta! In future, I shall play the “Jewish Mother” to the hilt, by telling them that in one expert’s opinion, it is easier to be stuck in RUSSIA without a PASSPORT than to have been a single mother. Perhaps they will begin to appreciate me more. (Or they will sigh in boredom as they’ve heard all of this before).
How does it go? “Don’t worry about me, I’ll just sit here. Alone. In the dark. After all I’ve done for you.”
You have it exactly. Add the daily sigh (mandatory) and you’d pass for a true Jewish Mother.