and then a re-bath after he finished rolling in dirt.
For Thoup Thursday, I made some borsht. Cabbage? Beets? Why would any child eat this soup?
The whole thing is very scary for me because I have never tasted borsht, let alone say or spell it. It involves beets, I could lose you there. Reading on, you will find things like potato, sausage and carrots. Some tasty friends to hold your hand and help you along.
I’m sickish today with dusty, vine harvest air and decided to start my hot sauce.
No better companion for hot sauce making than Vladimir Vysotsky. I haven’t heard this album in so long. Brent must have bought this beauty. I don’t even remember why. I was looking through the i-thing to find a Yes album to sit through.
Failing that, this ‘V’ listing spoke to me. I was looking for a Yes album because we were watching a “ prog rock “ documentary. Back in the day of the late nineties, when I first heard the phrase “ prog rock “ I thought the man said “ Prague Rock. “ Prog Rock is not for a girl, but a boy. I wasn’t familiar with the genre. I didn’t have the proper chromosome combo to appreciate the music.
And so I make the borsht because the kids arrive soon. Other than knowing how to search for his name, I don’t know much about Vladimir Vysotsky ( or is it Vissotski? ). He reminds me of the Belgian Jacques Brel or the American Tom Waits or Madeline Kahn in Blazing Saddles.
Here he is with Le Vol Arrête:
Il est nécessaire que je pratique le français. Ça marché quand j’ais le temps. Le temps à l’écriture et email. Mais, quand je parle avec des gens, je dit le bizarre. Je dit, ” vous coupez vos chevaux! Très mignon! ” Je dit, ” oui, oui, des brownies noirs. ” Quand il veut des brownies aux noix. Noir …. Noix same sound.
Si je pratique.
Le bus. Le bus reste là pour la prochaine journée d’école
Le pneu est sur la terre
Stop et alors où irons-nous?
Chargeurs pour les vaches. Minotor est un bon nom pour un groupe de musique ou un personnage de jeu en ligne.
Ma soeur porte baguettes dans un panier de mamie bonne.
that is my granny cart and I love it. google translate says, ” c’est ma grand-mère panier et je l’aime. ‘
While chatting with our new neighbours, there was a “moo.” A “moo” a little too close to home. It wasn’t the new neighbours, it was our naughty cows taking a field trip. They are supposed to be in Nebraska. I won’t mention names, but, some farmer left the gate open to the oat field. And off they went.
They had a sip out of the lake under the tree. They did some munching and then calmly ( they were calm ) walked back to Nebraska. They have all day to munch Nebraska down before moving on.
And Lumi shows off his very special bicoloured tongue.
The herd is munching their way through Nebraska. They moved to my favorite part of the farm today. When Brent moves them from upper Nebraska to lower Nebraska, they sometimes run around a bit. It is all so exciting with the hills and trees. Also, they can hide. There is some lovely stuff growing in the dip there where brown meets green. When the whole herd is munching in the dip, they seem to be nowhere. They hide. They play cache cache. Don’t blame it on the sunshine. Don’t blame it on the moonlight. Don’t blame it on the good times. Blame it on the lucerne, woo.