Everything’s Coming Up Josey Read Online Free PDF Page B

table and a little thrill of fear and hope rushes through me. Russia. I want to imagine European bistros and excursions to ancient sites, but suddenly all I see is ice.
    Snow.
    Siberia.
    Gulag.
    Maybe I should do some checking first. Thankfully the Java Cup has their pinky on the pulse of the needs of the local tourist and offers free Internet service with a cup of java.
    I log on and Google: Bible church, Moscow.
    My first choice nets me a congregation in Moscow, Idaho. So Grams was right. Interesting stuff, but I click the next link.
    Did you know that there is also a Moscow, Pennsylvania? I can’t wait to trump Gramma on that one.
    Third time’s a charm—www.moscowbiblechurch.com.
    I wait while my browser finds it, tapping my fingers on the wooden table. I sip my chai—it’s not bad—and watch the pictures load.
    Children reading Bibles. A man being baptized. Men and women sitting at desks. They look eager, clean. There are no bedraggled rags or barbed wire fences. Or snow.
    I search Moscow, Russia, and the screen lists over 1,000 pages. Top of the list is the embassy. I like that word. It sounds so espionage, even dangerous. “Hey, let’s check in at the embassy,” or “Is the embassy having a ball tonight?” Yes, I like embassy.
    I scroll down to Weather Underground.
    Twenty-one degrees? In June? My heart just went into hiding. No wait. That’s Celsius. Okay, this is better. 70 degrees with a low of 62. That I can deal with.
    Just for fun, I enter average temperatures for January. Ew. Eighteen below. That’s painful. But again, Celsius. A comparison in reality lists that as 0 degrees. Still not a heat wave, but then again, I’m currently living in Gull Lake, the ice fishing capital of Minnesota.
    Things are looking up.
    I skip over the Moscow Times and go right to Moscow Insiders Guide.
    Jackpot!
    The welcome page tells me that I am not only lucky, but should feel happy and confident about my trip to Moscow. I like upbeat webmasters. The page loads and the choices look promising—culture, entertainment, shopping…
    Click.
    Art galleries. I guess I wasn’t expecting a shopping trip to Fifth Avenue, but a Saks would be nice.
    How about culture?
    Now this is more like it.
    Museums, underground palaces of the Metro, the Golden Ring tour.
    Okay, anyone else have chills? I click on the tour. It’s a listing of cities, ancient cities. “Museums under the open sky” with 12th century Russian architecture. They have exotic names like Yaroslav, Rostov, Suzdal and Palekh. I say the last one out loud and it sounds like I’m spitting. I kind of like it and say it again.
    Benny over at the cappuccino machine glances at me and I click on Palekh.
    It has, among other relics, a monastery with white towers and gold cupolas, and a prince buried in a convent. (Kinda makes me wonder what he’s doing there—what kind of prince was he, exactly?)
    I go back to the home page and click on entertainment.
    Tour of Moscow. Okay, I’m game.
    I tour the Arbat, where the poet Pushkin lived, check out the grandeur of the Bolshoi theater, and linger long in Red Square, enraptured with St. Basil’s cathedral.
    What about…food?
    Restaurants, click.
    Score! Chose by type of establishment or cuisine. Cafés, pubs (I’ve never been in one of those, but don’t they sound cute?), night eateries and delivery. On the other scroll bar are cuisines from India, China, Taiwan, Thailand, Greece, Italy, America and something called Caucasian. That trips me up and I click on it. It takes me more than a few seconds to realize that this is specialty food from the Caucasus mountains. Not some sort of pre-civil-rights-era club. Phew.
    Mutton pie sounds…well, maybe I’ll stick to American for the first couple weeks/months/centuries.
    I go back and click on cafés. Oooh, I like this picture. Umbrella tables, plants, people laughing.
    I could be