ukrainian by blood

Filling holes

March 02, 2022 :: 8:00 PM

I think I’ve learned all possible variations of the word fuck…

I’ve been relatively quiet about the effect the war is having on me, personally.

A couple comments here and there, a lot of reposts of things that make me proud to be a Ukrainian, but not the soul-searching self important crap I post here.

Here’s the thing though - that fucking book, “Losing Your Parents, Finding Yourself”, continues to come back to haunt me.

(You know, the book I set fire to, that published bits from my mother’s will. Yeah, that one.)

So, about a decade ago, I decided to research my roots.

My father’s side is relatively simple. Maine, Maine, Maine, Maine, Maine, Connecticut. There’s nothing fun there to research.

My mother’s side, however? JACK-FUCKING-POT.

Being Ukrainian was sort of this odd… thing? I was a Ukrainian, but I couldn’t find it on a map, I didn’t grow up speaking the language, and I had very little access to the culture because my mother wanted nothing to do with it.

Then, of course, everyone started dying and I lost contact with the ones that were still alive.

So, there I am. Completely alone in the world. (We’re not counting my husband, nor his family. Not that it matters, I’m not close to his family anyway.) Knowing something is missing, but not knowing what.

Learning what it means to be from Ukraine, remembering the good memories and filling in the blanks with the social / cultural stuff I didn’t know… it was something.

I went full Ravenclaw. I out Hermione Granger’d Hermione. I jumped in and there was no looking back.

I started educating myself on Ukrainian history. I started taking Ukrainian lessons. I went to Suzi-Q. I went to Toronto. I hired a company to do the genealogical research for me. Then, I had them arrange a trip to Lviv and my grandparents’ village.

I had an identity again. A sense of purpose.

I felt like I belonged to a family again…

Even if I was born in the United States, I am the first generation that was born in the States. (My grandparents were born in Ukraine, my mother in Germany thanks to the Nazis…)

And just as all the pieces were starting to come together, just as I was getting ready to plan a return trip to Ukraine, this happened.

How very first world, yeah? Oh, no, that pesky Putin ruined my vacation plans…

But there’s more to it than a missed vacation.

A lot more.

I don’t know how to process this.

My shrink is going to have a field day with this next week…

Слава Україні! Героям слава!

February 27, 2022 :: 10:22 AM

Are toddlers even capable of understanding safe, sane, and consensual?

From one of my 18+ Sims groups.

While I have a number of mods, one that is 50 shades of… 18+... is definitely not one of them.

I definitely have nothing against the lifestyle, but it’s nothing I want to bring into my Sims’ lives. Growing weed in the backyard is more my style. *grin*

All I can say is, somebody has a sense of humour.


- - - - - - - - - -

It’s Racery time and I have not been motivated to run in any way shape or form. Part of it is that I get stuck in my head and lately that’s not a very safe place.

I did cap yesterday. Four and a half hours at a leisurely 18mm pace. An hour on the treadmill is hard. Four and a fucking half hours is INSANE.

I want to cap again, but I don’t want to do it all in one go, so at about noon, I’ll hop on the treadmill and go for 7.5 miles. Then, at some point before Quidditchcast, I want to get in another 7.5 miles. I want to steal a shout out in the worst way today. I need the atta girl so badly.


- - - - - - - - - -

So, Putin did start a war with Ukraine.

I’m not surprised; he waited until the European countries and the States were at their weakest.

Nobody wants to get too involved, because he’s so unhinged. They’re afraid to bring themselves into the firing line.

Sanctions are useless. Meetings are useless. He’s not going to break. He won’t give an inch until he either destroys Ukraine or takes it over.

As I discovered several years ago, there are people in my grandparents’ village with my grandmother’s maiden name. Two names that appeared on the genealogical report I had someone do. I’m not convinced they’re really my grandmother’s family but, somewhere along the line, we must share the same DNA. They survived WW2. They got to watch Ukraine become a free country. If they’re still alive, they’re reliving the most terrifying time of their lives.

I went through all the Ukrainian tutors I had tried and most of them live in or around Kyiv. There’s one near Odesa. (Yes. That’s the correct spelling. The other version is Russian.)

Then, there’s the guy who was our assigned tour guide / interpreter during our trip to Lviv. Super worried about him, even though Lviv is currently out of the line of fire.

I’m watching from the sidelines, safe and sound in my middle class suburban home in the southern US, and I’m terrified for them. Fuck, the Kyiv Post was reporting this morning that they attacked a children’s’ cancer center. FUCKING CHILDREN DYING OF CANCER can’t even catch a break. They didn’t need to bring children into this. Not like that.

Seriously, fuck Putin.


Ukraine’s glory has not yet died, nor her freedom,
Upon us, my young brothers, fate shall yet smile.
Our enemies will perish, like dew in the morning sun,
And we too shall rule, brothers, in our own land.

Souls and bodies we’ll lay down, all for our freedom,
And we will show that we, brothers, are of the Cossack nation!

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