View From the Hammock brought to you by Purple Frog

My iPad is not just a valuable and attractive item. It is a gift from my whole family. My husband, my mother, my sister, and my children and their spouses made this gift possible. What a nice and elegant piece of intellectual and material property my iPad is! It makes me think of Steve Jobs, the Apple founder, who recently died. What a genius mind! Why didn’t Steve Jobs believe in charity? Jobs didn’t leave any money for a single ministry. He left all his billions to his family. It should be something in his decision. Charity comes from the heart.

One Friday, I was on the road, driving home, when I heard the sirens. Opening the windows, I looked up to the sky. Yep! Tornado warning - I already learned that a certain green color of the sky and the silence all around highlight the possibility of it. I turned on the radio and almost dropped the wheel at the sound of the voice in my car, “If you are driving, get out of the car and find the nearest ditch. Get on the ground as low as possible, facing down, and cover your head with your hands.” I got goose bumps - what if it was the voice of God? Then, I looked around and didn’t notice a single driver leaving a car on the street and running to the road’s shoulder. The rain made me feel like Noah in his ark. What if it was another flood? We never learned from the first one.  What if God took his promise away? [Insert Figure 17 here] Nobody stops. My common sense interrupted my frustration: if I get out of the car and lie face down in the ditch, I will be dirty and look li...

I was really proud of my Easter letter. I came home with a copy, “Honey, I'm so thrilled:  I've done it all!” My secretary was sick, so I even went to the post office and mailed the letters. My husband read the letter without showing any emotions. “You didn’t send this yet, did you?” “Of course, I did!” “Well, this is how it sounds, ‘Easter isn’t only about Bonnies humping around . ’” “Exactly!” I listened to my writing one more time and was proud of myself even more. It sounded really strong and original. “Honey, do you know what humping is?” “Of course, I do! This is when rabbits jump – they hump.” “Ah, I see. Did you mean, ‘hopping’?” “Oh, my! So what is ‘humping’?” 500 letters were already mailed, and I prayed that all those people never really read those Easter letters anyway. Especially the three old ladies in the church named Bonnie.

I found myself in the retail business after serving a church for many years. Can't resist the temptation to compare the church and the retail worlds! In two short months, I saw plenty of contrasts: a Middle-Eastern woman, who hides her face behind a veil, and a transgender guy, who fearlessly displays his/her new breasts to the public. I was told that money doesn't have gender. Dollars are still dol lars. Gays, lesbians, blacks, greens, immigrants... Does it really matter? The world of retail is more accepting, more encouraging, and more sincere than the church world. How refreshing to be appreciated after being pointed at my accent for way too long. As for me, I still have my accent but, if in the church I was criticized for having it, in the world of retail, I am praised for it. I'm told that people are curious of someone who is different from them. In the church, Christians look down at those who are different. Today, I was told that I have an accent. Here we are again...

“You are so smelyi !” I wanted my husband to know that I am  proud of him. “Excuse me, why I am smelly?” Scott sniffed under his left shoulder, then under his right armpit making the funniest wrinkled grimace, “You think I am smelly?” “Did I say you were smelly?” “Yes, you did. Am I?” Oh, goodness. The international conflict was coming. “No, you are not smelly!” “Yeah, maybe I am. I am stinky because I just held the cat…” Scott managed to catch our asocial cat and placed him into the carrier. The cat’s fur odor was still fresh.  "Love, S-M-E-L-Y-I in Russian means brave, courages, not stinky. Can you trust me?" My husband moved the sofa and it seemed like the right moment to thank my husband for his effort, “Honey, ty takoi silny !” “Silly?!”  Scott paused in amusement. “Not ‘silly,’ SILNY ! It means ‘strong’ in Russian!” My Mother was already laughing at us, getting the meaning out of the Russian words, and of our frustrated faces. “Oh...

Have you ever noticed that your dryer eats your socks? To my horror, I found out that in America it doesn’t matter how many socks you buy - you never have enough of them to pair. My daughter was the first one in our family, who said, “I think the dryer eats them.” Back in school, we had a "Home Ec" class where we were to learn to mend socks, cook and sew. I learned many things, but mending socks was something that required more patience than I ever knew. One morning, I noticed a little hole on the big toe, but, shrugged my shoulders and carelessly put on my new shoes, leaving the house with a smile. Nobody will ever notice. If not for my aunt Fisa, I would have never learned the lesson. In Russia, we always take our shoes off when we enter the house. My aunt looked down first and then up straight at my face and said, “Lida, one day a young boy will take you on a date and will hold your hand, while you are balancing on the rail road rail (in Russia, it is very ...

      When I stand over the watermelon section next to other watermelon lovers at the local grocery store, trying to interpret the decision-making process behind their gestures and facial expressions, I know what they go through. I enjoy their sniffing and squeezing efforts to find the best watermelon. I smile when I see their puzzled looks. A crisp, sugary, meaty watermelon is a taste of paradise on a hot day. Yet, even after you bring it home, a watermelon remains a stranger—until it faces the knife. Here is the moment when two complete strangers finally meet: your watermelon and you. This moment is sacred; you are either a winner or a loser in front of the whole family. You do not want to hear that painfully familiar sigh behind your back—“Awww!”—caused by the sight of a greenish, “unsweetened” fruit, because what you truly anticipate is a “wow!” at the sight of scarlet insides peppered with glossy black seeds. As for me, I place the watermelon eleg...