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Typical foreigner in Russia be like
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The world has totally been divided into — decent people who are for peace vs. lunatic cannibals who support war
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Just another normal Women’s Day in Russia
I myself was that ‘lucky’ twice! Got really spooked when pulled over at first then happy & smiley😃
I myself was that ‘lucky’ twice! Got really spooked when pulled over at first then happy & smiley
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Russian Su-27 pushes back NATO’s F15 aircraft attempting to approach Tu-22M
The 🎾🎾
The 🎾🎾
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Radio Liberty & Voice of America = undeniable proof of a boomerang coming back
🙃
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For about ten years I’ve never heard otherwise
Kudos to🟩 , kudos to the colleagues, and thanks to Tucker who’s at making ‘em furious over again 🤭
Kudos to
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Farewell to my Grandmother. My Babushka. Babushka the Greatest.
06.12.1929-29.03.2025
Faina, Faya (they probably don't call girls by that name now) was born the seventh child to a peasant family in rural central Russia (early Soviet Union). She grew up in very hungry times, during the war she plowed in the fields, surviving and helping the front, watching German planes in the sky.
Babushka lost her husband very early, worked days and nights at a dairy plant and a bread factory, raised three children all by herself, each of whom got higher education in a city. My mother was her youngest and only daughter.
Granny devoted her whole life to her children and never complained about her not so prosperous life, full of hardships. Only occasionally would she recall: “life indeed was so hard...”
She also raised me, never forgetting about all four granddaughters of hers. My happiest childhood was spent with babushka in our village, during my school breaks. Often, on weekends, we would take the train to visit granny and help with household works. In the 90s, her garden was at times the only source of food for our family.
That indescribable smell of the stoves, which she would light every early morning while I was still asleep in winters, and from the fumes of which I often had a headache. Pies baked in that Russian traditional oven. Chickens in the yard. Dogs. Cleaning snow in the winter, otherwise you can't leave the yard. In the summer - the vegetable garden. It sounds nothing special, many people my age spent their 90s childhood like that. Only as an adult you do realize how much this little house of your babushka, where you spent all your holidays without smartphones or internet back then, has taught you — the joy in the little things and everything you have, love for your home, roots and motherland...
There are countless images, smells, sounds, memories in my mind, and they are all united by one very dear word to me - Babushka. They will stay with me forever. She is the epitome of my childhood that truly ended with her passing.
I am endlessly grateful to my incredible mom, who did everything, even the impossible, so that my grandmother could live such a long life. This was pure bliss.
Babushka was, is and will be my example of an incredibly strong woman with an immense heart, where she had room for all of us, her children.
As long as I am alive, your memory will live in me.
I love you forever.
06.12.1929-29.03.2025
Faina, Faya (they probably don't call girls by that name now) was born the seventh child to a peasant family in rural central Russia (early Soviet Union). She grew up in very hungry times, during the war she plowed in the fields, surviving and helping the front, watching German planes in the sky.
Babushka lost her husband very early, worked days and nights at a dairy plant and a bread factory, raised three children all by herself, each of whom got higher education in a city. My mother was her youngest and only daughter.
Granny devoted her whole life to her children and never complained about her not so prosperous life, full of hardships. Only occasionally would she recall: “life indeed was so hard...”
She also raised me, never forgetting about all four granddaughters of hers. My happiest childhood was spent with babushka in our village, during my school breaks. Often, on weekends, we would take the train to visit granny and help with household works. In the 90s, her garden was at times the only source of food for our family.
That indescribable smell of the stoves, which she would light every early morning while I was still asleep in winters, and from the fumes of which I often had a headache. Pies baked in that Russian traditional oven. Chickens in the yard. Dogs. Cleaning snow in the winter, otherwise you can't leave the yard. In the summer - the vegetable garden. It sounds nothing special, many people my age spent their 90s childhood like that. Only as an adult you do realize how much this little house of your babushka, where you spent all your holidays without smartphones or internet back then, has taught you — the joy in the little things and everything you have, love for your home, roots and motherland...
There are countless images, smells, sounds, memories in my mind, and they are all united by one very dear word to me - Babushka. They will stay with me forever. She is the epitome of my childhood that truly ended with her passing.
I am endlessly grateful to my incredible mom, who did everything, even the impossible, so that my grandmother could live such a long life. This was pure bliss.
Babushka was, is and will be my example of an incredibly strong woman with an immense heart, where she had room for all of us, her children.
As long as I am alive, your memory will live in me.
I love you forever.
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Прощание с любимой Бабушкой.
06.12.1929-29.03.2025
Фая, Фаина (таким именем сейчас, наверное, девочек совсем не называют) родилась седьмым ребенком в семье простых крестьян в деревеньке в Ивановской области. В очень голодные времена она росла, во время войны она пахала на полях, выживая и помогая фронту, порой в небе наблюдая немецкие самолеты.
Бабушка очень рано потеряла мужа, пахала на молокозаводе и хлебокомбинате, сама вырастила и воспитала троих детей, каждый из которых стали очень достойными людьми. А моя мама была её младшей и единственной дочкой.
Всю жизнь бабушка посвятила детям и никогда не жаловалась на не самую благополучную, полную лишений, жизнь. Лишь изредка она вспоминала: «а ведь жизнь-то какая тяжелая была…»
Она же воспитала и меня, никогда не забывая обо всех своих четырёх внучках. Самое счастливое моё детство проходило у бабушки в деревне, на каникулах. Часто и на выходных мы садились на поезд и ехали к ней, в любимый дом моего детства, помогая по хозяйству. Ведь порой в непростые времена 90-х её огородик только и кормил нас.
Этот непередаваемый запах печи, которую она затапливала каждое раннее утро пока я ещё спала, и от угара которой у меня часто болела голова. Пирожки из печи. Курочки на дворе. Собаки. Уборка снега зимой, иначе просто не выйти из двора. Летом - огород. Вот вроде ничего особенного, ведь многие из моего поколения так же проводили своё детство. И только во взрослом возрасте ты осознаешь сколько всего в твою жизнь вложил этот домик с бабушкой, у которой ты проводил все каникулы, когда не было ни смартфонов, ни интернета — это простая радость мелочам и всему тому, что у тебя есть, любовь к своему дому, корням, родине…
В голове безмерное количество картинок, запахов, звуков, воспоминаний, и все они объединены одним очень родным словом - Бабушка. Они навсегда останутся со мной. Я всё ещё ребенок, дочь, но моё детство по-настоящему закончилось с её уходом.
Я благодарна своей невероятной маме, которая сделала всё, даже невозможное, чтобы бабушка прожила такую долгую жизнь. Это огромное счастье.
Бабушка была, есть и будет моим примером сильной женщины с необъятным сердцем, в которой умещалось столько любви ко всем нам, её детям.
Пока жива я, твоя память будет жить во мне.
Я бесконечно тебя люблю, бабушка.
06.12.1929-29.03.2025
Фая, Фаина (таким именем сейчас, наверное, девочек совсем не называют) родилась седьмым ребенком в семье простых крестьян в деревеньке в Ивановской области. В очень голодные времена она росла, во время войны она пахала на полях, выживая и помогая фронту, порой в небе наблюдая немецкие самолеты.
Бабушка очень рано потеряла мужа, пахала на молокозаводе и хлебокомбинате, сама вырастила и воспитала троих детей, каждый из которых стали очень достойными людьми. А моя мама была её младшей и единственной дочкой.
Всю жизнь бабушка посвятила детям и никогда не жаловалась на не самую благополучную, полную лишений, жизнь. Лишь изредка она вспоминала: «а ведь жизнь-то какая тяжелая была…»
Она же воспитала и меня, никогда не забывая обо всех своих четырёх внучках. Самое счастливое моё детство проходило у бабушки в деревне, на каникулах. Часто и на выходных мы садились на поезд и ехали к ней, в любимый дом моего детства, помогая по хозяйству. Ведь порой в непростые времена 90-х её огородик только и кормил нас.
Этот непередаваемый запах печи, которую она затапливала каждое раннее утро пока я ещё спала, и от угара которой у меня часто болела голова. Пирожки из печи. Курочки на дворе. Собаки. Уборка снега зимой, иначе просто не выйти из двора. Летом - огород. Вот вроде ничего особенного, ведь многие из моего поколения так же проводили своё детство. И только во взрослом возрасте ты осознаешь сколько всего в твою жизнь вложил этот домик с бабушкой, у которой ты проводил все каникулы, когда не было ни смартфонов, ни интернета — это простая радость мелочам и всему тому, что у тебя есть, любовь к своему дому, корням, родине…
В голове безмерное количество картинок, запахов, звуков, воспоминаний, и все они объединены одним очень родным словом - Бабушка. Они навсегда останутся со мной. Я всё ещё ребенок, дочь, но моё детство по-настоящему закончилось с её уходом.
Я благодарна своей невероятной маме, которая сделала всё, даже невозможное, чтобы бабушка прожила такую долгую жизнь. Это огромное счастье.
Бабушка была, есть и будет моим примером сильной женщины с необъятным сердцем, в которой умещалось столько любви ко всем нам, её детям.
Пока жива я, твоя память будет жить во мне.
Я бесконечно тебя люблю, бабушка.
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I’m not particularly well for obvious reasons lately. And not particularly responsible handler of this ‘channel’ — just need some time off from all the noise of this mortal coil.
In case someone might expect my seldom messages here :)
I’ll be back 🙂 I hope so & I have to 🙃 but please excuse me for the time being.
In case someone might expect my seldom messages here :)
I’ll be back 🙂 I hope so & I have to 🙃 but please excuse me for the time being.
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Христос Воскресе! ☦️💫
Christ is risen from the dead, trampling down death by death, and upon those in the tombs bestowing life!
Christ is risen from the dead, trampling down death by death, and upon those in the tombs bestowing life!
My rare visit on Red Square hence the picture🙃 👀 Moscow is abnormally hot these days — 27 C
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It is what it is 🇷🇺 😉
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According to official data, about 27.7 million Soviet citizens died in the Great Patriotic War. This is not just a number. These are millions of faces, lives, families.
🎗 If we devote just one minute of silence to each person who died — the world would be silent for 51 years. Half a century.
🎗 If each of them walked along Red Square in the Victory Parade, with a step of one person per meter — the length of the column would be 27,000 kilometers. This is longer than the equator.
🎗 And if their names were read out one by one non-stop, it would take us more than 50 years to name them all out loud.
To your children tell the story of them
that they may remember!
To children’s children tell the story of them so that also they may remember!
For all time on immortal Earth
do remember!
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The most emotional day of the year and most favorite holiday. We commemorate, celebrate, glorify, unite, cry, hooray. Very colossal day, as my American friend - who visits Russia on May 9 every year - described it.
This year this day is twice as emotional given the passing of my beloved Babushka. A month before her passing when our amazing Moscow doctors literally brought her back to life, I did remind her of another reason to stick around a little longer: the upcoming 80th anniversary of Victory Day. We usually celebrated together. This is her day as a veteran.
About a week before passing she was awarded the ‘80 years of Victory’ medal. She passed when the flowers she received along the medal were still fresh.
I will forever be proud.
🎗 🎗 🎗 🎗 🎗
🎗 🎗 🎗 🎗 🎗 🎗 🎗
🎗 🎗 🎗
This year this day is twice as emotional given the passing of my beloved Babushka. A month before her passing when our amazing Moscow doctors literally brought her back to life, I did remind her of another reason to stick around a little longer: the upcoming 80th anniversary of Victory Day. We usually celebrated together. This is her day as a veteran.
About a week before passing she was awarded the ‘80 years of Victory’ medal. She passed when the flowers she received along the medal were still fresh.
I will forever be proud.
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