Uglich, Uglich, Uglich. It doesn't mean Ugly, but I can't now remember what it does mean.

By now (Thurs) I am pretty much cathedral'ed out, and the thought of another day bouncing in and out of a bus and in and out of a cathedral and a home tour of an honest-to-goodness (as far as the cruise company and the local principality want us to believe) Russian home just didn't appeal. But I kept it all inside (I know! I hear your gasps of shock) and put on my little transmitter set and trooped out to the bus like a good Girl Scout.

And another "thank goodness I did" moment. The home visit was quite lovely, and a humbling experience. The couple, Mikhail and Ilena, were so gracious and had clearly gone to trouble to treat us as honored guests. Their age was hard to guess (he was missing a third of his teeth and was weathered and grayed and she was plump and dyed blonde). When asked, they admitted to 50 (Mikhail) and 45 (Ilena). They just celebrated their 28th wedding anniversary - my guess she was a pregnant 17 when they married as their elder son is 28 and the younger 23. Regardless, life before and after Communism has worn on them and perhaps they are more resemble our grandparents and great-grandparents at that age than did/do our parents and us.

Anyhoo, they had pulled three tables into their living room, laid with several clothes. Our seating was the long sectional couch and probably every chair in the home to accommodate twelve guests.

We began with vodka which Mikhail had distilled himself and, although I downed it in one swig, I did not ask for seconds. I was among the sturdy few who finished their shots.

Ilena served freshly-made sweet buns filled with raspberry jam, most likely some of her own stock. Pickled cucumber and cheese slices, as well as brown bread complete our repast. After we noshed, the samovar was tapped, so to speak, and we finished it off with tea.

They bought the property in 1995, and spent the next 15 years building it themselves by hand. While the house was being constructed, they lived in an apartment which they sold once they could move into the home. With the money they made from the sale of the apartment, they made a sizable down payment on an apartment in Yarslavl for their elder son and his wife and three-year-old son.

She works in a shop and he is a guard at a factory which 'makes' quail. I gathered that this place raises quails either for the eggs or to sell as coveys (I only say the latter because my father bought a covey back in the 70s to stock the farm for quail hunting but they either all died, abandoned the farm or were poached because he saw very little profit from that effort.)

Amazing what people will do, in reference again to Mikhail and Ilena.

They also had a sizable garden plot, where they grow almost all their own produce, and they also raise chickens, pigs and bees. Unfortunately, when Mr. Swine popped over the gate in their pig sty he was so quick and it was so dark that my pictures are crap, but I'll post them anyway. Russian and American pigs oink in the same language.

In honor of my dear friend Rich, I report the following info on St. Dmitri on the Blood.

Uglich was the city where the young czar Dmitri lived with his mother. His uncle, Boris Godenov, wanted to rule so he had Dmitri killed at the age of eight, two of his servants slicing the throat of the small boy.

Boris claimed that Dmitri was playing in the garden with several young friends, was taken with an epileptic fit and fell on a knife slicing his neck open, twice.

A priest was walking in the garden and, upon witnessing the assassination, ran to the bell tower and rang the alarm. The townspeople were outraged, and rose up in arms, killing 12 of Boris' servants.

Boris was duly outraged, and wrecked vengeance on Uglich. Twelve citizens were killed, in retaliation, much other devastation was visited upon the town - can't remember details - and the bell that had been rung was pulled from the tower to be punished. One 'ear' was broken off, the tongue (tip of the bell) was also destroyed and it was flogged twelve times. The final indignity was that it was thrown in the river.

Not sure of the date, but the bell was eventually retrieved a couple hundred years later and is now installed in a place of honor in the Church of St. Dmitri on the Blood, which was built on the spot of his martyrdom. (Little Dmitri, who was never able to rule while alive, was canonized and now reigns among the saints.) Our local guide rang the bell, and it still has such a beautiful sound. I wish I could have captured it, but I didn't pay my ruble fee to be allowed to photograph in the chapel as I had no idea that the bell would be part of the experience.

Coming out of St. Dmitri, we were greeted by Czarina Marina, aka Alla one of our tour guides. Pictures are included (at some point). There was a stand there full of costumes where one could pay 200 rubles and take pictures. Kind of along the lines of the Old West pix one can take in Nashville and (I'm guessing) Dollywood or Gatlinburg. I couldn't pass up the chance to be a real czarina (Martooni's forever) so Mama humored me as I donned the mantle, if only for five minutes.

There was also a men's a cappella choir in another church, and I got some great-sounding videos of their performance. Part church music, part folk, they sounded amazing. They record in the chapel of St. Dmitri, so it's a wonder to think how acoustically perfect these people could make their churches hundreds of years ago. I was tempted to buy a CD of their folk music, but thought better of it. I photographed their marquee so if I really need a shot of it when I'm stateside, perhaps they'll pop up on Amazon.

I finally got a picture of a statue of Lenin, as many of these were torn down when the Soviet Union collapsed in the early 90s.

I also made a quick dash to the Autobahnk, got more rubles, and then ran to catch up with Mama before she made it back to the ship. While we had been bussed off the pier, we walked back to the ship and had to run the gauntlet of souvenir tables full of all the same crap. It reminded me of Disney World (again) where one can not get out of an attraction without exiting thru the gift shop.

As we had 15 minutes to get the five minutes to the ship, I did more kamikaze haggling and got a deck of cards and another matryoshka set, both at less than asking price. Feeling proud of myself, I could check another thing off my list (bargaining in Russia).

And that's what I have to say about Uglich.