The prima balalaika was plucked at the apex of the triangle--they pluck the larger ones and the domra farther down on the body. I asked if anybody ever bowed the balalaika--the apex looked narrow enough that you could do it despite the instrument's flat string layout--but apparently nobody does.
I took it very slow coming back in the van--windy (*)sleet and snow over sleet, and no snowplows in sight. This morning everything was re-cased in sleet, and we had to be at church early for rehearsals--traveling slowly again.(**) I don't know that this is a day of rest, but it is in many ways a slow day.
We've light snow all this day, and supposedly into tonight too.
The track of the worst of the storm missed us. Maybe that's where all the snowplows went.
(* )A disconsolate-looking robin has stayed as close to our house as it dares, flitting only far enough to put a little distance between us and then circling back. (I saw no nest.)
(**) I am His and He is Mine (1876) has the rather clunky line "Heav’n and earth may fade and flee, Firstborn light in gloom decline". That's a clumsy but not inapt way of describing the red-shifting of the Universe's first light.