In which Rolanni reminisces

Nineteen years ago yesterday we woke up in the chilly little tourist cabin in Skowhegan, Maine that was to be our home for two weeks while we scrambled to replace the apartment and the job that we thought were in place before we left Baltimore. I dressed in jeans, knee-highs, work boots, my warmest flannel shirt, and a heavy sweater, pulled on my so-called winter jacket and stepped outside to a glittering wonderland.

The grass, the drive, the trees, the cottages opposite, were all dusted with snow.

Before we left Baltimore, I had insisted on packing all my cold-weather clothes where I could get at them easily, to Steve's very large delight, so I called him out to vindicate myself as a person of foresight and reason, and then we went to breakfast at the nearby Burger King.

Yesterday, as I walked up the hill from the parking lot to the library, wearing a pair of spring-weight corduroys, and a light shirt with the sleeves already rolled up, I reflected on the changes nineteen years have brought.

...to be continued...

The Royal Cats of Russia

The Hermitage Museum in St Petersburg, Russia, is famous as the palace of Empress Catherine the Great.

The greatness of its cats is the less well-known side of its astonishing story.

They have been here since the 18th Century. Fed up with rodents running through the palace, Empress Elizabeth sent out a decree that the best ratters in Russia should be sent to St Petersburg. The first to respond are thought to have come from the city of Kazan - then apparently famous for the rat-catching skills of its cats.

The rest of the story is here