This is the first post of our oldest son, a translation of a book of stories from Russian author V. Dragunskiĭ entitled Денискины рассказы (Dennis’ Stories).
This story took place in Moscow. So, if you’ve been to Moscow, do you know the Kremlin? And, if you don’t know, it’s like a big group of famous buildings and gardens. It will come later in the story.

So, the main person in the story, is a boy named Dennis. He woke up in the morning and brushed his teeth and got changed as usual. Then, he went and looked at what was on the table to eat for breakfast. His mom brought him a full bowl of kasha. He said “I hate this stuff; I can’t stand it!” His mom promised him that if he ate his kasha, he would be able to go to the Kremlin. Dennis thought, “I love that place, but how can I eat this kasha? Maybe it doesn’t have enough salt.” So he put some salt and he tasted it again, but it tasted even worse than the first time. Then, he thought that it wasn’t sweet enough. So he added some sugar and he tasted it, but the kasha was even worse than it was before. Finally, he thought that everything tasted good with horseradish; so he added horseradish and stuffed all the kasha into his mouth. It tasted so gross that he went to the window, opened it, and dumped out all the kasha into the street. Just then, his mother came in and said, “You are such a good boy; you ate all of your kasha. Okay, then get on your coat and let’s go to the Kremlin.” Continue reading

In this time of the year, as the days wane more and more and darkness swallows up the light of the sun, we Christians in the northern hemisphere dream of the time of turning. The turning, or “yule” as it was called by our Saxon/Germanic ancestors, marked the time when the sun would end its long descent into the South and begin to climb north again. The Pagan Romans celebrated this as the Feast of the Invincible Sun,
First Sunday of Advent in West
I thought that since some of my subscribers might be local to Quebec, it would be good to hear in advance about an opportunity our little
Our youngest daughter is trying her hand at a report about her favorite picture book. The handwritten portion at the end is her own hand over my ghost-written letters.
Sunday, October 22/November 4, 2018
Sunday, September 17/30, 2018