A Matter of Choice

You see these war-crazed Russians in news segments, and it all feels far away. But then you see a family member, especially one with a huge resemblance to your child, engaging in these war-loving activities, and it’s really creepy.

The grandma refuses to acknowledge Klara’s existence in any way, yet Klara looks like a mirror image of her. It’s incomprehensible to me that a woman would reject a son and an only grandchild in order to sing bloodthirsty propaganda songs. Instead of finding joy in the continuation of life, she chooses to celebrate violent death.

Sweet Old Lady

N discovered today that his mother in Russia joined a choir. She wears a military uniform and sings wartime songs. He’s not showing me the videos, so I can only guess at the nature of the songs. You have to pay to participate in the choir, and N’s sister fears that mom will hand over everything she’s got and end up homeless.

Yes, that’s Russian people for you. They don’t expect to get paid to do propaganda work. They go broke paying for the privilege.

I prepared a very nice pre-Memorial Day Weekend celebration today, and I’m hoping that might distract N a bit. But yes, it’s heavy stuff.

Not that it’s a competition, but whenever my mom does some cuckoo bananas stuff, N’s ups the ante and does something much more out there.