Gosh, it's grey in Moscow...

April 25th, 2014.  Anzac Day wreath laying at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier outside the Kremlin, Moscow

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?

The Gallery: April

This post is for The Gallery on Sticky Fingers. Click here to see all the other fabulous entries...

So, the prompt for this week's gallery is 'April'. Oh, how I would love to show you photographs of Union Jacks flying and street parties a-plenty. Sadly, I was in Moscow last week (and seldom have I felt further away from home), so I don't have any shots like that use. Instead, here are 3 photographs showing the beginning, middle, and end of April - Moscow styley.

It's Spring? Pull the other one...

Glancing out of our window yesterday, I saw three waxwings sheltering crossly in a tree.

The cold wind ruffled their feathers as they glowered out at the sleet, and if I could speak Waxwing I know exactly what they would have said to me; "For this we flew 1500 miles looking for Spring?"

Today, they've gone.

And frankly? I don't blame them.

(All of which is a roundabout way of saying that if I have to read one more tweet about how warm it is back in the UK right now...)

Come on Spring; the camera and I are waiting...

We still have snow here in Moscow. It's decreasing, melting gradually away, but there's still plenty lying on the ground, and snow storms most days.

It's nearly April. As an English person used to temperate climates, that's bloody depressing, let me tell you.

Last year we were lucky; the winter, whilst much colder than the one we've just had, was brighter. Sure, we had days on end of -20degC and below, but the sun shone, the sky was blue, and the dazzling light reflecting off the snow took some of the edge off. Yes, it was freezing, but beautiful and exhilerating. This year, we've had fewer days like that. Milder temperatures, certainly, but somehow I prefer -20degC with blinding sunshine to grey drabness at -8degC. It's still minus when all's said and done, after all.

Spring 2010, when it arrived (at the beginning of April) was astounding, however. I've never seen such an explosion of life. My parents visited me during the second week of May and couldn't believe how in only their 8 day visit everything in the garden exploded. And don't get me started on the birds; from a veritable wasteland of wild-life at the end of March, with only a couple of squirrels and a few grey-hooded crows, our compound transformed into what sounded like a tropical paradise in only 2 - 3 weeks.

So in an attempt to maintain my sense of optimism against the snowstorms ('Spring will come, it will!'), I've decided to use the blog to make a record of the forthcoming transformation. Every Thursday morning (or thereabouts), around 9.00am, I'm going to take a photograph of the flower bed in front of our house. Well, I say 'flower bed'; it's more greenery than flowers, but you get the point. And actually, right now, it's not even greenery; just a heap of snow with one brave fern struggling through it.

Then I'm going to post it here. Just to show myself - and anyone else who's interested - how far we've come by the time June rolls around. Let me know if you're interested in joining in with photos of your own Spring-time transformation and perhaps McLinky might come out to join the fun, too...

Here it is, then. The front flower bed chez Potty, 9.10am, Thursday 31st March 2011. Roll on Spring; I sure am ready for you to make an appearance...

When winter just won't quit...

The Russians say it's Spring here right now. Admittedly, it is above freezing for much of the time, and Mother Nature was doing her best to clear away the snow, but it seems she's taken the day off today (or Winter has come back from it's short break, who knows?) because this is what's outside my window:

(Note; the reason the trees look blurry is because they are obscured by the heavy snow falling. In March, for goodness' sake).

Oh well. At least it means that this link, to my latest offering over at In the Powder Room where I debate the rights and wrongs of wearing a helmet on the slopes (and shrug my shoulders at the resultant hair disaster) isn't quite so out of place...

The Gallery: Pride (and Spring)

I didn't take this photo.

A 6 year old child in Boy #1's class did. Sure, I've messed about with the colour and contrast etc, but essentially, this is the photograph that they meant to take. It's one of a number that were taken for something I've already mentioned here; the Silent Auction. For those who didn't read that post, it's an event where staff and parents at the Boys' school are given the chance to bid for baskets containing collections of goodies (but not, it has to be said, my Green & Black's chocolate), or for art projects completed by their children's class.

Being a devotee of the printed photograph album, I suggested to Boy #1's class teacher that this year we create one of those, made up of photographs taken by the children. Each child was lent a digital camera for around 30 minutes, and one of the other parents and I escorted small groups around the school whilst they snapped away to their heart's content. We then edited each child's submission down to the best 3 or 4 each, and I messed around on photoshop to crop them and make the colours pop.

The photograph above is one of the results.

I am so proud of their efforts; it was amazing to me how beautiful some of the photographs that resulted are. I would love to share them all with you to illustrate that, although obviously I can't do that, so those sledges will have to do.

And, because I'm incapable of letting an opportunity past to showcase my own photographs, I thought I would show you this one - which I did actually take - as well. The word that this brings to mind, for me, is Spring, which is finally making an appearance in Moscow.

I know using ice to illustrate Spring seems unlikely but, believe me, snow on the roof has to actually melt to make icicles like these...

This post is for Wk 48 of Tara's Gallery; click here to see all the other fantastic submissions.

The Gallery #7: 'Ugly', and The Mads

This week's prompt for Tara's Gallery is 'Ugly'. I racked my brains when I read that; what to photograph? Normally it's examples of beauty - or our interpretation of what is beautiful - that we bother to record. So if I go back through my files I can show you photographs of sunsets over idyllic beaches, of children playing in the mountains, and the sun rising over Glastonbury Plain, but ugliness? Not something I usually want to remember.

I've seen plenty of it, mind you. Just looking around me in Moscow there is the dirt, the crumbling tower blocks, the fumes from the traffic, the beaten up old cars, the expressions on the faces of the people fighting to squeeze onto the metro in rush hour (although, understandably, a lot more people are taking taxis right now...), and the rubbish thrown onto the side of the road.

But all that would be too obvious - and too cheap a shot. So instead, here is a pile of melting snow outside our front door. Definitely not pretty (despite the late afternoon sun glinting off the ice), and I suppose it could even be called ugly. Except, after a whole winter dealing with the white stuff, this sight marks the beginning of Spring - so whilst it is ugly, it's also a very welcome sight indeed...

And whilst I've got your attention, I would just like to indulge in little bit of shameless self promotion and point out 'The Mads' logo on the right hand side of the screen. For those of you who haven't come across this yet, it's the collective name for a series of blog awards to be presented to nominted Mum and Dad bloggers, and I'm delighted to have been nominated for a couple of them;

Mad Blogger of the Year

Best Mad Blog Writer.

Any support would be much appreciated. (It appears that I left both my Natural Modesty towel and my Shrinking Violet hat back in London when we moved...)

This is NOT a photo blog...

... but apparantly, this - according to the birds and the locals - is what passes for early Spring in Moscow.

Hmmm...

(And I know it's Spring because Dawn at Little Green Fingers said so...)

Small Triumphs

This morning, driving to the supermarket, I was listening to the radio, and in amongst the mix of Russian techno, Russian hip-hop and British and American 80's pop, the weather came on. Today's high will be +2 degC, and the low will be -4 degC.

This is significant for two reasons; firstly, the temperature is above freezing (in fact it's raining, something I've not seen here since we arrived). So the Russians and the birds might actually be right - Spring is finally here.

And the second reason?

The weather announcement was in Russian.

And I understood it.

You've come a long way, baby...*

*And apologies if that sounds smug but I need to mark positive progress somehow!