Showing posts with label Snow. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Snow. Show all posts

Wednesday, 18 February 2015

The Photo Gallery 218: Colour

Even on a winter's day, with no leaves on the trees, I was surrounded by colour when I went out skiing on this beautiful Moscow morning...

















This post is part of The Gallery over at Tara's Sticky Fingers blog.


Sticky Fingers Photo Gallery

Thursday, 5 December 2013

On the 5th Day of Advent...

... this was my walk home after dropping the Boys at school.
















And, most likely, it will look almost identical when I walk them home after picking them up this afternoon...

Monday, 1 April 2013

Poo-lympics. You heard it here first

Boy #2 has found a Union Jack flag left over from our trip to London during last summer's Olympic festivities, and is rushing around the house reliving last Augusts' past glories.

We are still stuck in the tail-end of Winter here (no, Russians, I am not listening to your bleats that we have reached spring.  Is there snow on the ground?  Yes.  About a foot of it? Yes.  Was there a blizzard this morning?  Yes.  Well then.  I rest my case...), but in spite of that Boy #2 is currently obsessed with the summer Olympics.  So you find me in the middle of a conversation about when the next Olympics will be, where they are happening RIGHT NOW (repeated assurances that they only happen once every 4 years for about 2 weeks are falling on deaf ears, since he believes that if there is an Olympic torch somewhere, well then that means there must be an Olympic Games, right?  RIGHT, MAMA?), and how we are going to get there. So he can wave his flag, obviously.

The news that we have over 3 years to wait - and that when they do happen, they won't be in London - was not welcome, I have to tell you. It was, if anything, greeted with outrage. The Olympics - not in London!  What kind of craziness is this?

Boy #1, whilst very much able to understand the 4 year hiatus between Games, has decided to jump on board and is now lobbying for a torch shaped like a parrot in honour of the Brazil connection.  He knows very well that to make such suggestions is simply adding fuel to the flames of Boy 's current pet topic, but is merciless in this matter, to the extent that he is now suggesting various toilet-humour themed additions to the sports we can expect to see in Rio 2016.

So here I am, stranded in Narnia, waiting for spring, desperately trying not to laugh too loudly at my older son's outrageous suggestions for poo-related olympic sports, and ducking as my younger son waves a Union Jack in my face.

I shouldn't think life gets much more glamorous than this, does it?



Wednesday, 20 February 2013

Things you never know about blogging...

... until you've been doing it for longer than is perhaps wise.

#1 Your Significant Others will read your posts - and perhaps, just to wind you up, quote them back to you at inopportune moments. I give you Exhibit A, Your Honour.

The Potski Family are on holiday this week, skiing.  Halfway through what was quite a stressful morning of flat light, steep icy slopes, horizontal snow, and zero ski ability on my part due to not being able to see where the hell I was going, and wondering why on earth I had ever thought strapping two boards to my feet and pointing them downhill was a good idea, Husband said "You have snow on your moustache."  Longer term readers of this blog might recognise this as a direct quote from a blog post I wrote a couple of years back, about a similar incident.  

So there I was, stranded on a mountain-side, wondering how on earth I was going to get down it, and now - on top of all those insignifcant 'will I ever make it back to my children alive' worries I was dealing with - also wondering if a) the moustache/snow issue was in the fact the case, b) he was simply referring to my 2 year old blog post in an attempt to lighten the mood take my mind off the situation (in which case, why couldn't he just tell me a joke, for chrissake?) or c) both things were in fact true.

I suspect c). 

Wednesday, 23 January 2013

The Photo Gallery; Adventure

This post is for Tara's Photo Gallery, and this week's prompt is 'Adventure'.  Click here for links to the other entries.

If you've visited The Potty Diaries before, you may know that I'm currently living in Moscow, Russia.  Life here can be seen as taxing, exhausting, and insular, if you're not careful.  It's easy to reach the stage where you close yourself off from the constant assault of 'Foreign' on your senses, choosing to stay home, venture out only when the cupboards are bare, and live from the beginning of one school term to the end of the next, buoyed up only by the prospect of leaving for your next trip 'home' the instant the school bell rings.

People do that, here.  For years sometimes.

Or, you can simply treat each day as an adventure.  Even when all you're doing is making a trip to the supermarket.




















I've been wanting to take this particular photo for a while now.  Any ex or current Moscow residents reading this blog will probably recognise this spot; it's on the main road from Sheremetyevo Airport - for a long time, the only international airport for the city - into Moscow.  The soldier shown is in memorial of the soldiers of the 2nd World War (there is a female version on the opposite side of the road), and it's an iconic representation to many Muscovites of the pride they have in the sacrifice Russia's people made in fighting back the tide of Nazism.

To me, he and his female compatriot simply symbolise Moscow, and on a personal level - Adventure*.

* Because let me tell you, it felt pretty adventurous lowering the window in -15degC so I could take the photo whilst negotiating heavy traffic...



Thursday, 29 November 2012

It's snow joke...

It's snowing.  As in, properly snowing.  This is unusual so early in the season; normally we don't see a fall this heavy until around Christmas and possibly not until January, but this year it appears Dyed Moroz (Father Frost) has come early and gone more than a little overboard with his white special effects.

At this moment in time we've gone past this morning's annoying little crystals which swirled around stinging cheeks, and moved onto the pretty, fluffy type of flake that falls picturesquely from the sky before joining zillions of others on the ground.

It looks very picture-postcard like, a good preparation for the festive season.  I should find my camera and get busy.  But you know what?

I am not impressed.

On the one hand I want to wrap up warm and never go out again, and on the other - I want to wrap up warm and never go out again.  Oh, OK.  I'll get over my temporary mood (which may, I'll concede, be more than slightly hormonal), and no doubt by next week I will have unearthed my cross country skis, re-mastered the Moscow Shuffle*, and rediscovered my usual state of very British awe at how Russia's climate refuses to be ignored, but in the meantime I am somewhat melancholy over the fact that I may not see grass again until next  Spring.

Which is - in case you're interested and before you mock my dramatics - due sometime around mid-April.

To cap it all, I will need to pick the boys up from school on foot this evening because the snow ploughs are not keeping up with the weather and the roads are not really safe to drive on, so will no doubt end up pulling the pair of them up the hill on the sledge behind me. (This was quite good fun when we arrived here 3 years ago and they were 4 & 6, but a little more challenging now they're 6 and 9).  On the plus side, however, I'm sure that by that time my inner Mummy Pollyanna will have resurfaced and I'll be making the best of it for their sakes,

It will probably sound something like this:  "What do you mean, it's cold and it's wet?  Come on!  It's snowing!  It's beautiful!"

Yes.  That should do it.

PM squares her shoulders and sets off into the blizzard** on the school run.


*the art of walking on icy uncleared pavements / sidewalks without going head over heels.
** 'Blizzard' may be a slight exaggeration, for effect...

Wednesday, 28 March 2012

The Gallery; Extreme Close-Up

This post is for Wk 96 of Tara's Gallery, and the prompt is 'Extreme Close-ups'. Click here to see all the other entries.

It's nearly April, and I know those people back in the UK reading this are currently basking in sunshine (I read a tweet this morning reminding people to put on suncream, for goodness' sake), but here? Not exactly...

So I thought this photograph was appropriate. And yes, you may remember it featuring on The Potty Diaries a couple of years back but I can assure you, it could just as easily have been taken the day before yesterday...



Friday, 17 February 2012

Parenting Challenge #987; getting the kids in the fresh air when baby, it's cold outside...

Sponsored post



Having foolishly wished for snow to lift the interminable greyness towards the end of last year, I am now rather regretting my foolhardiness in longing for the white stuff. Obviously, there are things about it I like, but there are also plenty that I’m not so keen on. Dirty slush, for one. Nincompoop drivers, for another. And the fact that it becomes even more difficult than usual to get my sons to play outside.



Don’t get me wrong; at school they have outdoor playtimes no matter WHAT the weather, but by the time they get home and even at the weekends, their interest in playing outside seems to have waned a little. Oh, who am I kidding? They’re not that interested even at the best of times, but now - when the snow lies thick on the ground - rounding them up, into their snow kit, and out of the back door for some healthy outside time is like herding cats.



I can’t blame my sons mind you; snow is cold, and it can be wet, and living in Moscow we do get a little bored of it, but they can’t spend the whole of January, February and March skulking inside. I’ve been casting about for ways to get them out of the house then, so when I was contacted by Tiger Sheds with some suggestions of outside games to play at this time year, I welcomed the additional input.



All of the games Tiger Sheds suggested are old favourites but I have to admit, not necessarily ones I would have thought about reminding the boys of in cold weather. There was ‘Red Rover’ (where children form two opposing lines, link arms, and shout for a child from the opposite team to try and break through their line), ‘What’s the time, Mr Wolf?’, (also known as ‘Grandmother’s Footsteps’), and ‘Stuck in the Mud’ (like tag but for two teams, and where a tagged child has to stand on the spot until a fellow team member slides between their legs to release them back into the game) which for some reason seems like it would be even more fun played in a foot of snow than it would normally.



The other tip Tiger Sheds have is to make hot chocolate and to take it out to the garden shed so the children have somewhere sheltered to drink it. Now, you may scoff at this as being a way of bringing their product – garden sheds – into the frame but it has one major advantage; it does avoid the problem of getting children to break off their outside play to come inside for a warming drink with all the accompanying removal of clothes that ensues. Have you ever done this and then tried to persuade them to put all their now cold and damp outdoor gear on again to go back outside for some more fresh air and fun?



With tv, ds’s and a warm bedroom with endless den-building possibilities calling, any sensible parent knows that just isn’t going to happen...

Wednesday, 11 January 2012

The Gallery; Week 86

This post is for Tara's Gallery; click here to see all the other entries...

Tara's prompt for this week was 'phone photo'. So here's one of mine, taken on my Nokia N8-00 (thank you again, lovely people at Nokia) this morning, not far from our house.

Altogether now; 'walking in a winter-wonderland...'




Wednesday, 10 March 2010

Somewhere between 30 and 50...














- or countless, depending on how you look at it. And no, I'm not talking about my age; I'm participating in Tara's Gallery again.

I took this photo on Sunday, mainly because I've been amazed by the size of the snowflakes here. Having grown up in the UK the only snowflakes I normally see are wet and soppy just-about-to-melt affairs. In Russia, however, sometimes they're so large you can actually see their shape with the naked eye, so I thought I'ld photograh a few to record that.

Tuesday, 22 December 2009

Christmas snapshots

Snapshot *1

My parents are at the table, enjoying a post-dinner glass of wine.  Dad looks across at Mum as he opens the second bottle of the evening, and says:

"I think, when one of us dies, I'm going to have to give up drinking..."


Snapshot *2

I've spent the morning in and out of the snow with the Boys.  We have thrown snow-balls (well, not snow 'balls' per-se - since the snow is very un-Britishly too powdery and dry for that - more handfuls of the stuff scraped off the top of the garden table or up off the grass and which, to be honest, are far more effective than snow-balls at properly soaking your opponents), got freezing hands and noses, and generally revelled in the unexpected white pre-Christmas.  We are, frankly, snowed-up to the max.

After defrosting ourselves and drinking a warming cup of hot chocolate, I kit the Boys up again, ready to make a trip to the shops.  We walk to the door.  I open it, revealing the snowy scene outside again.  Boy *2, standing behind me, gasps.

Me:  "What is it, Boy *2?"

Boy *2:  "SNOW!!!"