Summary

Boy, oh boy, if I could convince myself that trimming the Christmas tree and ringing in the new year were really like this in Saint Petersburg, I'd pack my bags, sell the farm, and get a one-way ticket to paradise. Short of that, I guess, there's always this visual reminder to tempt my irresolution... but its images bob about in my fancy like a tree-full of forbidden fruits, every one of them shiny and voluptuous!

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