Black ice and other blessings

Here's a thing. Did you know that it doesn't need to be above 0 degC to rain? And did you know that when that rain hits the ground (in less than 0degC) it will turn immediately to ice and coat everything on the ground in a thin coat of invisible glass?

I mean, I thought I KNEW black ice, from London. I thought I was able to deal with it. But apparently in Moscow it can - at only a couple of millimeter's thick - give enough glide for boots able to deal with the thickest of slippery snow to slip and slide like nobody's business.

It's not elegant, let me tell you.

But it is great if you're pulling a wooden sledge with a tired and fractious 4 year old on it, trying to make school pick-up on time after a much-delayed departure due to having had to chase said child around the house because he doesn't want to venture out into the raw cold to collect his brother. The relief when you realise that you don't have to decant him from the sledge because you're hitting what you think is a patch of bare, snowless track, but which is in fact covered with a sledge-friendly patch of black ice, saving you at least 2 minutes on your yomp to the school gate, is significant.

Of such small triumphs is my life currently composed. And I'll take them - and be grateful - thankyou very much.