27 February 2022
On October 7 of this past year, 2021, I placed an online order for two sweaters, described by this knitter in Kharkiv, Ukraine as: “very warm, oversize mohair and cashmere.” This shop proudly proclaimed on its digital storefront that these products are hand-made in Ukraine by Ukrainian woman, not by Chinese workers.
The sweaters arrived 2 weeks later — no supply chain problem there!
They are of such marvelous and sumptuous quality and color that I promptly ordered one more sweater in the same style. This one is in a grey melange shade; the parcel arrived on 1 December. I wore it for a Christmas holiday outing.
Come mid-December, I decided to splurge and to use my special coupon from this enterprising woman to purchase two short-sleeved angora beauties in pastel colors, along with an oversized cashmere sweater in a shade called Milky. I also took note, with joyous delight, that this online business had added quite a few styles and different items, in anticipation of spring and summer sales. I spotted a fun raffia hat and immediately placed that piece of merchandise into my digital cart.
Wardrobe basics, especially sweaters of natural fibers, are next-to-impossible, if not impossible to find in my homeland, the USA, at any price and not made by a Commie-country. I was quite excited to have discovered hand-knitted garments for sale that are investments for the wardrobe of any woman in love with fine classic fashion.
That somewhat large online order was shipped on 16 December. I received a cryptic note from Svetlana that said she hopes it’s going to reach me in time, and best wishes . . .
The merchandise arrived at my door on 2 February. Daring fate and whatever sleazy corruption those Powers-that-Be were up to, I contacted this woman in Kharkiv, Ukraine and purchased, at discount, one last angora short-sleeved sweater, in Color 7. The parcel left her shop on 22 February, and it’s made it all the way to Kyiv. Svetlana sent me once more the much-less cryptic note of her wishes that this mailed item reaches me in time.
I cannot tell you what is Shade 7 of that sweater because, initially, on 24 February this online shop informed me that it was taking a brief break. I guess to take up arms against the Russian invaders.
Svetlana has since closed down her shop in Kharkiv.
In spite of the obscene inaccurate views of the “news” reports emanating from the faux-news of the USA, I, and perhaps many others, have a fairly firm fix on the mess that the Democrats and the Uniparty have made of international relations — during at least 30 years. The only relations the corrupt U.S. politicians know is illicit, in the form of big-bucks graft from Burisma. And from whatever other globalist companies got rolled by the U.S. State Department during those crappy Obama years.
I guess those millions of deceived American voters who want their votes back from Romney, they are, in a roundabout way, getting them back. Pierre defecto looks as if he hasn’t slept in 3 weeks, or just about the length of time during which my digital purchase met its likely demise in Kyiv.
The cowards of the country known as the United States can run, but they cannot hide.
It is my staunch belief that there aren’t many cowards in Ukraine. Their cowards might be like the American cowards:
the corrupt politicians and officials who feed off of disastrous crises that they had a greedy hand in fecklessly creating, in order to scarf up even more millions of dollars from the so-called “humanitarian aid” that those public parasites insist must be given to the victim-country. Of course, Congress lines up at that trough. In reality, Congress is a trough — of blood-money.
In a just world, those soul-less creatures would be hung in the public square. In our world, they give speeches and get paid quite well for them. Their hell, however, awaits them. They can neither run nor hide from that everlasting and bottomless fire. American politicians ape caring, and shed those crocodile tears, all while bombs from the fake Czar genocide-massacre the valiant in Ukraine.
The weasels of War, Inc. are beyond redemption. The people of America are not. We are in the process of cleaning up the obscene corruption at home, so that it does not infiltrate foreign lands even further.
During the past seven years, I’ve purchased from artisans in online shops located in Ukraine (or, as I’ve always called this fiercely proud nation, The Ukraine) many extraordinarily beautiful pieces of art. All of those amazingly hard-working and talented individuals lived in Kharkiv.
I also purchased accessories from a young woman in Odessa. Over the course of several years, I got to know her, through email conversations. We shared events in our lives; family celebrations; patriotic celebrations; thoughts of artistic women, married with children, living a day-to-day life.
One day in late August, she sent a message to me, apologizing for a late response to her somewhat late mailing of an ornate hairpiece that I thereafter used for a promo pic for my poetry volume, Confession. She too wrote poetry, and I was able to encourage, and hopefully advise her on how to balance creativity with the every-day life of raising children.
She was always like a mother-bird, worrying about the shipments of her creations to me. On that day, she and her family had been busily celebrating Independence Day. As an American, I was curious as to what her Independence Day commemorated. Quite bluntly, she stated: “Freedom from Russia.”
I then learned that Ukrainians resolutely form their own nation, with their own culture, their own language, and a deeply rooted patriotism that I can only wish the people of my nation would display, every day.
She and I agreed that love is poetry, and that such emotion is not always expressed in words.
The words of her heroic leader, and President, are akin to that poetry of love that this man holds for his nation. He’s gifted with charisma and courage. His words will echo long after the vapid vomitus of syllables of the non-President of America have faded into the obscurity that every traitor deserves.
The pull-quote, the Bartlett Familiar Quotation of all-time was boldly uttered by President Volodymyr Zelenskyy:
“The fight is here; I need ammunition, not a ride.”
That terse and true response was aimed at the doddering Marionette Mumbles, the so-called leader of the erstwhile U.S. Government. The U.S. State Department is as craven and corrupt as any 3rd-rate nation on earth.
I do not at all mind taking inspiration from a supposed foreigner. Those gutsy words are just about all that we Patriots in America can stomach online in terms of straightforward public pronouncements from elected officials. I’ll take any brave words from people in foreign lands, the countries whose very existence the elites in the USA, as well as the EU, played a large lucrative hand in messing up. And those verbal sounds of valor come on the heels of the honking heroic truckers in the Freedom Convoy of 2022.
In case anyone, anywhere, needs some words of humble courage, and savvy but honest, resolute and dignified capitalism, all filled with love of country, this woman named Svetlana, located, somewhere, in Ukraine, speaks, as of 25 February 2022, for millions of her fiercely proud patriots:
is suffering Russian invasion, our home city is under constant shelling. We’re praying and asking you to
stand for Ukraine our lives and our safety. We’re calm and fight for our freedom and democracy. Unfortunately we’ve lost all the yarns and
half-made items in our warehouse, back in my home city. All the orders that were placed will be made
once any opportunity appears. If any of
you are willing to cancel your orders, I’ll accept your decision.”
The patriots of America stand for, and with, Ukraine. The corrupt puppets in our government and the propagandist media have not a leg to stand on, no matter who paid for it with the bribe-money that is now, along with those greedy grabby hands, covered with the blood of heroes in Ukraine.
I stand with Svetlana and The Ghost of Kyiv.
Update 22 March 2022
I am calling this one The Miracle Sweater from Svetlana.
This fluffy angora-cashmere was mailed to me on 22 February, two days before the Ukraine nation was militarily invaded by the foreign nation of Russia. UkrPoshta got this parcel to me in California, in record time.
This shop is still taking a short break. This Ukrainian mother is among how many millions who are quite literally fighting for the future of their children?
Yesterday, I opened my little dresser drawer and saw the two other short-sleeved beauties that I purchased from this artisan. I am unable to wear them; in time, I shall do so, when I feel less sorrowed by this hideous state of international affairs.
God knows when to send miracles, especially the unexpected ones.