An American Babushka in Moscow:  The Tai Chi Babushki: How I was taught I wasn’t a Communist

It is late spring in Moscow, and the day is exquisite.  I sit on my balcony and drink my coffee and watch  a mischievous breeze run through the trees.  It brushes against them, makes them bob and sway like off balance dancers.    When it scuttles away, the branches slide back into the sun, hold still, and the space we share[Read More...]
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