Normally, I dont post twice a day, BUT, this will be short and sweet. I am sitting in a chair in the side yard of the cottage reading the American Spectator (big shock there). I hear a heavily accented hello. Two Russian women, one of whom speaks a little English tells me that they are lost. It is broad daylight. They are renting a house on Glendon Rd. Returning from the beach, they walked the entire length of Glendon Rd. but didnt recognize the house. It is owned by a man named Vladimir. She is certain that I know Vladimir. Vladimir Putin? She sees no humor in my response. They dont have a phone. I offer mine. They dont have a number or last name. I have no good answer. House to house, knocking on the doors and asking if anyone knows Vladimir or where his house is. Off they head back toward the beach, chairs and towels in tow.
Posted on: Wed, 03 Sep 2014 20:11:52 +0000
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