Herrings with beetroot capaccio baked potato and red onion

My dear friend Shelly put me onto Silver cream for burns and abrasions. Imagine our surprise when we spotted some in a Moscow pharmacy when she was visiting a few weeks ago.

Shelly went home fully stocked (you can’t get it in Australia for some reason) but before you all go rushing out to buy some, PLEASE read the below email I sent this afternoon….

Shell,

This is urgent!

I went to the pharmacy a few days ago and bought some of that Silver product you found when you were here. I bought it for dad; he has terrible gout at the moment as well as blisters on his feet, so we picked up a tube of Voltarin as well as some of your silver creme, only when I got it home I discovered it wasn’t creme; it was a spray.

I hadn’t got around to asking Maya to read the instructions till today; I just figured that spraying it on his foot every night would work the same way as rubbing in a creme. In any case, he’s kept both products next to his bed and religiously used them every night in a valiant effort to make good for the energetic walks I’ve been leading them on around Moscow.

Today I finally got around to asking Maya to help me decipher the instructions. I caught her when she was having coffee this afternoon and showed her the box.

She mentioned that she’d noticed it next to dad’s bed and looked a bit embarrassed. I explained that she shouldn’t worry about going into mum and dad’s room; they were very open and relaxed people—very typical Australians . She smiled, cautiously trying to look reassured.

I went on to explain that dad had gout, and needed the spray to help him feel better. She looked confused…”G-out?” she mimicked in English. “yes G-O-U-T” I said. “Shto eta?” (what’s that) she said. I was late for a hairdressers appointment, so I didn’t have time to reach for the dictionary. Instead I stuck out my leg— straight, and then made a kind of full cheeked blowing-up face with expanding arm movements “Kagda eta orchin bolshaya—ya zniesh?” (it’s when it’s very BIG—you know?)” I said pointing down to my extended rigid leg.

At this point she looked even more embarrassed. I quickly went on to explain that I’d bought the spray for him a few days ago to use with his Voltarin. I went on to say that I thought it was a creme; to rub in( I demonstrated this by making a rubbing action with my hand, accompanied with a sympathetic facial expression). I then went on to say that it turned out to be a spray; not a creme, but hey— it seemed to be working just the same, I just didn’t want him to overdose.

She was now looking at me with a combination of disgust and shock. I was getting nowhere fast, so I reached for the dictionary at the same time as I grabbed my handbag; simultaneously preparing to walk out the door and hoping for a quick fix. “Here” I said, quickly pointing to the word ‘blister’—” y evo est MANOGA vot eta”(He’s got LOTS of these) `’tak” (so), “On” (he) sprays (I don’t know this verb, so I made a “spich”, “spich” sound to demonstrate) every night.

My question to her was; how many times per day should he spray it on to get results?

“Ya niznayo” (I don’t know) she said, guiding her finger down the instructions. She explained (I’ll spare you the Russian) “you should use it both before and after sex”—that was all she could see.

“SEX”!!!!!!!!!!!! I said “Before AND after —SEX”?!!!!!! “NO!”. I gasped; dropping my handbag and running for the book shelf. ”He sprays it on the soles of his feet (I demonstrated, kicking of my shoes and franticly making “Spitch” “Spitch” sounds as I furiously bent my pointer finger up and down towards the sole of my foot, hopping on one leg). “Net Sara,” she said. “Not on his feet— on his…. she discreetly demonstrated a between the legs spray action with sound effects, “tam” (there).

To cut a long story short, it turns out that your silver spray is a form of topical Viagra that is intended to “increase sexual performance and pleasure whilst protecting against the effects of…let’s just say, friction”!!

Jesus lady! Have you used it yet?

I can’t believe Maya has spent the last few days looking at it sitting next to dad’s bed thinking he was some kind of geriatric nymphomaniac!

It took me so long to explain (using 2 dictionaries to ensure everything was hunky-dory) that he (and for that matter mum) was in fact not a sex crazed lunatic.

I hope the boys haven’t had any grazes since you got home?

xx SS