Happy Halloween

Specialists in 5-minute costumes

We pulled these together at the last, but luckily our little vampiress really knows how to get her creep on; she snagged an award for scariest costume (her heart's greatest desire) at the American Halloween shindig we attended.

An explanation is due...

self portrait #1

self portrait #2

self portrait #3

Although I will date this entry in October, apologies (from February) for the four-month hiatus. We've had ongoing technical difficulties that finally resolved themselves yesterday with the arrival of! A new laptop! Life is good.

The Village, part 3

A few odds and ends from a nearly perfect day.

 

The locals (1)

The locals (2)

Rotten apple throwing (1)

 Rotten apple throwing (2)

Temptation

Indulgence

Regret

Labor

 Completion

Contentment

The Village, part 2

Georgians can be incredibly resourceful. They seem to roll with the ebb and flow of supply and demand by making due with what they can when it's available. Case in point: village houses. I didn't see a single house in the village that was constructed of uniform materials. And from what I've seen of the rest of the country, this village is no exception.

DT personally rebuilt this house from the ground up--just added the pitched roof last year. He'd love more than anything to have a month free to spend finishing it off. I thought the lean-to shed was classic, but he can't wait to knock it down.

The acred property was littered with fallen fruit, awaiting harvest.

We wasted no time getting to work.

The girls were in heaven...

...tree climbing heaven.

It was a gorgeous fall day,

cool and sunny,

and the work was social and enjoyable,

with something for everyone.

DT's son gave this tree a vigorous shake and the apples came tumbling down.

We filled at least a dozen bags.

The Village, part 1

Before the Bolshevik Revolution more than half of Georgians still lived in villages, essentially living off the land; but under Communism the smaller less economically viable villages were systematically snuffed out and new industries were developed resulting in a massive migration into the cities. Whereas in America almost everyone you meet is originally from somewhere else, in Tbilisi everyone you meet hails from a village.

The traditions surrounding village culture are strong; on major holidays families return to their home villages where they visit the graves of their kindred dead and stay at the local family-owned property. We were invited on one such pilgrimage in honor of a buried father's birthday.

Sweeping countryside vista as seen from cemetery.

Tradition dictates a table be set up for a graveside feast. DT actually built a permanent table for just such a purpose.

A supra spread: potato pieroshki, choti bread, roasted eggplants wrapped with walnut paste, tomato cucumber salad, Russian-style potato salad, Georgian cheese, and ground beef patties, with (what else?) Georgian mineral water.

Little guy loves the peirogis.

Hosts for the day.

Little guy paid his respects to DT's father.

Beeswax candles honor the dead.

Boiled chesnuts to crack open. Yum.

After the feast we leisurely made our way to the cars and on to DT's village house.

The problem with sisters, part 2

A National Treasure

We finally had the privilege of attending a dance performance by the Georgian National Ballet Sukhishvili. They don't appear to have a regular schedule of concerts, so when they perform, carpe diem! In one thrilling evening I got a better glimpse into the core of Georgian national identity, history, and pride than I've witnessed in nearly a year of life here.

There are zillions of clips to be found online, but here's a sampling of their work.