The best blog advice I have ever received is...

I'm feeling a little low on blogging inspiration right now, so BritMums Prompt of the Week was something of a godsend for me today. It's not that I have nothing to say, you understand; just that I have nothing I want to commit to the ether and - essentially - have it rattle around in cyberspace for eternity. Because, even if you post, and then think better of it and delete what you've written from your blog, it will always be out there - somewhere.

Having said that, thinking before you hit publish is not the best blogging advice I have ever received. It's not bad advice, you understand - (my personal approach is that if I'm writing something I think may be controversial I write it, save it, and re-read it the next day to see if it still holds true and if I am happy for it to be 'out there' for ever, then I publish it), but it's not the best advice I've ever read or been given on blogging.

No, the best bit of advice that I've ever been given about blogging is that the you shouldn't over-think. (Which, now I consider it, completely contradicts the paragraph above this but what the hell, it's my blog, if I want to be contrary I will). And by 'over-think' I mean, spend time fretting about writing the funniest post, the most popular post, the one that will get the most mentions on twitter, the most comments, the highest number of hits, the most links. If you start to worry about doing all of those things you are - or at least, I am - lost. You will lose your identity and spend all your time floundering around for the next hot issue to blog about, and will be at risk of losing any originality or individuality you have.

Sure, you should - or again, I do - ensure that when you post something, you are proud of it, if not in sentiment then at least of the way that you write it. But you shouldn't sit there in front of your keyboard worrying that what you write might not be good enough, might not be entertaining enough, and get yourself all tangled up in knots about that. That way lies bloggers block.

Which leads me onto the next snippet of the best advice I ever received, which is - to borrow a well-known advertising slogan - just do it. (Feel free to add expletive as required). What you need to do - if you want to be a blogger who enjoys what they're spending their time doing - is just write. Even when you think you have nothing to say, just log into your blog, click on 'new post' and write. You'll be amazed by how easily the words flow if you can just find that first sentence - even if it's nonsense.

And then, the third part of the best piece of advice I ever received about blogging. Say what you want to - and then stop.

So I will.

Silent Sunday

And in other news...

...I've just had an email asking me if I am interested in buying accessories for my washing machine.

Excuse me? Accessories for my washing machine? Before I clicked on the link (for yes, I am that mug), I spent a happy few seconds imagining what they might be. Perhaps a jaunty little hat for those trips to the farmer's market? A natty pair of leather gloves for those chilly days, now that autumn is here? Or maybe an autumnally coloured scarf, for wear whilst out mushrooming in the forest?

No, of course, don't be potty, PM. Let's get real.

Perhaps, then, the term 'accessories' when matched with 'washing machine' could refer to some swanky go-faster stripes, colour-coordinated to match the granite work surface in your kitchen. For obviously, no washing machine that would need something as grand as an accessory could possibly be seen anywhere without a slab of granite or corian close to hand. Or actually, maybe the granite or corian IS the accessory, and this is the manufacturer's way of branching out into a new market-place? Or, perhaps it refers to some washing machine bling; a cheeky little swarovski crystal tattoo around the base of the door? (Don't laugh - I actually think Sub-zero have already done this with a fridge).

But no. 'Washing machine accessories' actually means 'detergent'. And, if you're going to push the boat out, it can also mean 'descaler'. Who knew?

Oh yes, and my older son just asked me if, when he's 12, I will let him watch that well-known movie 'Pirate Caravan'. I said yes, naturally. Well, a film about pirates on holiday in a 4 berth caravan, perhaps on the west coast of France, squabbling about who's turn it is to empty the waste container, who ate the last weetabix for breakfast, and who's responsible for their getting lost and ending up at a nuclear power station instead of at the unspoilt beach within easy reach of a local vineyard - what's not to like?

Seasonal changes; Autumn in Moscow (Part 1)

So, it's Autumn in Moscow. I know this for a number of reasons, the first of which is that it's tipping with rain outside and only 15degC. Mind you, this on it's own is not conclusive proof because I remember similar conditions 2 years ago in August when we visited with the Boys to convince them that this would be a wonderful place to live...

So supporting evidence is needed, and I present that as follows;

The mushroomers are out in force. Russians go crazy for mushrooms, it seems, and on any trip out of the city at this time of year you will pass a number of home-made stalls on the edge of the road with (usually) babushka's perching on upturned plastic crates, behind a plastic sheet on the ground covered with interesting looking fungi. I'm not a great mushroom lover myself (can't really be doing with the texture, I'm afraid), but Muscovites will happily load their car up with their family, some charcoal, some shashlik and some beer and trek out to the forest to make a day of their foraging expedition for nature's bounty. I'ld quite like to try it, actually - the trip out, that is - just as long as I don't have to eat the results.

The supermarkets are full of empty jars and lids. This is not only for the home-prepared stewed fruit, jams and vegetables from the garden at the family dacha which are brought back into the city in triumph, crammed into the back of the car, as the weather turns colder. The jars are also used to store the mushrooms mentioned above, which are often preserved salted. Note: if you are not keen on mushroom's texture in the first place it ranks somewhere in the 7th circle of culinary hell when you are presented proudly with a dish of salted mushrooms prepared to an old family recipe by your host, and which you really feel you must try or cause offence.

*shudders theatrically*

The traffic gets significantly worse. This morning it was an 8-lane day as I joined the highway. 8 lanes where 3 are marked, that is. Gosh, I just can't wait for the first snow in a few weeks time when no-one has their winter tyres on yet and things get even jollier...

The new parents at the school start to lose the 'rabbit in the headlights' look that they had in the first few weeks of term when they would arrive to drop their children off, having battled the traffic all the way across town** and made the mistake of thinking that they were driving in an environment where 'normal' traffic rules apply. They don't. Luckily it only takes 4 weeks to get used to that, and in any case most of these expats rarely sit behind the wheel of a car, letting their driver take the strain...

And finally, I know it is Autumn because I have already seen Russian children dressed up in snowpants and hats. In September. At 15 degC. I mean, I know it pays to be prepared, but...

** This is invariably the result of allowing their working partner / working partner's HR department to choose their accommodation on an earlier - solo - visit to Moscow, when proximity to the office was ranked more highly than proximity to the children's school. Which is all very well until you realise that whilst one member of the family only has a ten minute commute, everyone else is sitting in the car for around 3 hours a day...

Spreading the love - one jam at a time

I've blogged before about driving in Moscow. So far, so good on that one, but I know I'm just on borrowed time before the first accident / stoppage by the traffic police / running out of petrol in heavy traffic situation.

I'm trying to be optimistic, however, which is why - (oh no, I hear you thinking, she's not going to... is she?) - I'm going to suggest you take a look at what I've posted over at my other blog at The Moscow Times (yes, Expat Mum, I only ruddy am...) where I've been waxing lyrical about spreading the love on the highways of the city, and about how it might - just might - be starting to pay off...

Help wanted...

I should be proof-reading, tidying up, checking what we're going to have for dinner tonight, or editing photographs, but I'm not. This post has been metaphorically burning a hole in my pocket since Friday, and until I write it I can't properly focus on anything else.

This is Sergey*.

I met him and his mother when I was at a riding centre for the disabled in Moscow. He has, amongst other things; cerebral palsy, bilateral spastic diplegia, and a very rare chromosomal disease. It's the last that is the real problem and as a result of it, he's slowly fading away. There seems to be no help available to him here in Russia, and his mother is desperate. Desperate enough to approach a complete stranger with no medical knowledge or expertise, who doesn't even speak the same language, to ask if there is any way I could help. She wasn't looking for money (specifically), but instead for any information she can find on where to turn for assistance in treating Sergey's condition outside Russia.

Since I had a Russian friend me with me, we were able to exchange email addresses and she has sent me a translation of his medical diagnosis.

Now. I know that there are millions upon millions of children out there who need help. I know that Sergey is just one amongst them, and that they should all have a shot. I'm told by others who are more experienced than I am at dealing with charities that it's possible to tie yourself up in knots over one child, when in fact you should keep the bigger picture in mind.

I know all that.

But I've met this little boy, and his mother. I've seen first-hand his condition and smiled with him as he was helped to ride a pony and undergo therapy which - whilst it can't cure his condition - can at least ease some of the symptoms. And I can't forget the quiet desperation in his mother's voice as she repeated for what must be the thousandth time the details of his diagnosis to yet another complete stranger who might - somehow - be able to help.

So I'm trying, via friends in the medical profession back home, to see if there is anyone I can put her in touch with, and since I have this blog, I'm trying here too.

Please, if you know of anyone who may have contacts in the area of treating chromosomal diseases, ask them to get in touch with me via the email listed on the 'contact me' page of this blog and once I've checked out their credentials I will forward them Sergey's translated diagnosis and put them in touch with his mother.

Thanks for reading.

*Not his real name

Sign Away Meningitis

Meningitis Awareness Week starts in the UK tomorrow.

The Meningitis Research Foundation is calling on the British government to pursue the widest and earliest possible implementation of vaccines to prevent the diseases of meningitis and septicaemia. You can help; take a couple of minutes to watch this video if you can, or just click here to go straight through and sign the petition.

Thankyou.