To Russia with ... love? and Kate's peepshow confessions!

Hi everybody! All you readers in Russia! How are ya tonight!? Feeling good? All right!
So let me just say thank you! No really, thank you!

If it wasn't for your spambots, this blog would have no readership! None. Nada. Niente. Rien. And however you say "none" in Russian. (I'm not looking it up.)

Seriously though, this is a tiny blog. Only four followers (one day we hope to have five!). Let us go. We really can't do you much good.

To my four faithful readers, it appears that spambots, originating in Russia, like this one http://domar.ru (DON'T CLICK) hijack blog traffic, for reasons they can fathom, but I can't.
Here's my Russian readership, that pale green area stretching across a big part of the upper northern hemisphere.
Who knew? So if for some reason you get anything Russian related, or with a .ru in the address, add an "n" and run. Do not click on anything. Nothing. Nada. Niente. Rien.
Capiscono?

OK. I could explain in greater detail, but, bottom line is spammers. And I'm not special, that's why spambots do the hijacking.

Onward

My peepshow tonight revealed a young man in a house up the street, playing his violin. I confess with no guilt that I love to look in my neighbors' windows (from the street, of course. My nose never, ever meets glass!)

A lot of homeowners in my neighborhood have converted open-air porches to indoor rooms and these spaces generally have lots of glass real estate. One of my favorite windows looks into a living room that has a huge piece of modern art on one wall, a silhouette of a cool sofa and nothing else visible. The painting is in colors of red and yellow-green and is striking, all the more so for flying solo in that room.

Anyway, the dog and I were wandering up the street, her nose to the ground, mine up in the air, when I heard some really lovely music.

In a home on the uphill side of the street, a young man in a blue and white sweater was practicing his violin, on one of those closed in porches.

His music was really lovely; thankfully Twist was totally absorbed in some moist, earthy scent, so I could pause to listen.

I wished for a hundred-thousandth time that I had kept up with piano, but I also was reminded of how it is really good to get out of your shell once in a while, and take the time to appreciate the passions of the other souls who occupy our earth.