good neighbors

I opened my front door on Sunday afternoon to figure out what sound I was vaguely hearing from next door. It was my Ukrainian neighbor, singing melancholy Russian folk songs at full voice with an impressive Russian-style baritone. It was lovely. Especially compared to my neighbor in Champaign during grad school, who liked to play Cher dance remixes at 2 in the morning. We'll soon find out how far Nadia and Vasily's neighborly tolerance and devotion to music go; I need to practice my oboe.