And so the snow continues. That picture in my last post? Totally white-washed out of existence, because this being March, Mother Nature is playing with us a bit, the saucy minx. Friday was all Winter Wonderland, Saturday was +2degC and slush everywhere (practical shoes, people, practical shoes), whilst on Sunday it was -8 again.
Honestly. I'm guessing the big Mother must be suffering as much from PMT as I am right now, she's so changeable at the moment. The poor birds are all arriving back from their winter playgrounds and tweeting their little hearts out for about 5 minutes before they hunker down to try and conserve energy in the -11degC dawn (yesterday morning's balmy temperature).
I know, when Spring finally get's off it's backside and deigns to make a proper appearance (because I don't care what you say, Russians, THIS IS NOT SPRING!), that we will soon have forgotten the snowdrifts stacked up like mini-Everests (except with more dirt in them), and that the daily tussle over snowpants with children bored of wearing them for 5 straight months will soon be just a distant memory. I know that.
But in the meantime, it's cold, it's dirty, and I'm totally ready to see grass outside the back door again.
Time to trot out one of my totally over-used truisms about living in Russia, I think;
There is no such thing as bad weather; only bad shoes...
Honestly. I'm guessing the big Mother must be suffering as much from PMT as I am right now, she's so changeable at the moment. The poor birds are all arriving back from their winter playgrounds and tweeting their little hearts out for about 5 minutes before they hunker down to try and conserve energy in the -11degC dawn (yesterday morning's balmy temperature).
I know, when Spring finally get's off it's backside and deigns to make a proper appearance (because I don't care what you say, Russians, THIS IS NOT SPRING!), that we will soon have forgotten the snowdrifts stacked up like mini-Everests (except with more dirt in them), and that the daily tussle over snowpants with children bored of wearing them for 5 straight months will soon be just a distant memory. I know that.
But in the meantime, it's cold, it's dirty, and I'm totally ready to see grass outside the back door again.
Time to trot out one of my totally over-used truisms about living in Russia, I think;
There is no such thing as bad weather; only bad shoes...
