week nineteen

No matter what the train track configuaration, one thing remains constant. Standing on the train station are Lexi, Mama and Kristina. Just waiting. Together.

week eighteen

I realize this challenge is meant to be all pictures and no story...but I feel compelled to share the story behind each one instead of letting them speak for themselves. Control freak? Poor photographer? Logophile? Trying to prove that a picture = 1000 words? Dunno.

This is what is parked right outside my window--and has been for most of the day.

This morning, Lexi was up at 6 (no surprise) and I wasn't even dozing at 6:30, so we got up, had some yogurt, and went grocery shopping.

When we came back, it was rainy and miserable, and I really didn't want to haul groceries for blocks. (Our street is the staging area for the big trucks for Victory Day and so no parking is allowed. All cars will be towed.) Since Victory Day is tomorrow, I asked the militsia standing across the street if I could park here today. Da, koneshna moshna. Yes, of course you may.

I asked our concierge. Of course! Move the car tomorrow, but today it is fine.

We went home, put our pajamas back on, and settled in to watch a new Peppa dvd. Then, just as a familiar noise was entering my subconscious, my mobile rang. I dashed to the window and saw the car behind me being towed! I threw on jeans and a poncho, answered the phone, and thanked my principal for the heads up. I dashed out, telling Lexi I was moving the car; hoping Peppa was engaging enough that she'd be okay.

The "evacuator" driver took the time to slow down, open his window, and THANK me for coming out to move my car. That was a little bit of happy. He even told me where to move my car.

The view as it wraps around the corner and heads to Palace Square.
The soldiers get out their buckets and wash their trucks as they wait.

Mia, keeping an eye on things.

And a picture I love but won't keep up long. Do you like her long, pink "ponytails"? She was happily singing about being n@k ed and skipping around following a quick bout of bedjumping.

Her jeans were wet and the obvious replacement was her dancing skirt. When she decided to be n@k ed, her shirt got stuck on its way off. She was delighted with the result. ;>

week seventeen

The soldier-boys (and the grown men, too, I suppose) have been practicing in Palace Square for Victory Day. This is so Russia to me--need to cordon off something? Use people! People seem to be as expendable today as they were when the serfs were around. (I think #4 was texting as I photographed.)

Further down the street you might be able to see more groups of soldiers assembling to march into the Square.

I find the practices amusing. The different groups must be meant to march in at specific times, perform their maneuvers in front of the important invited guests (not me), and then assemble elsewhere. But when they are practicing...oi. It's a MESS! I've never been in a dance number where so many people were, quite literally, marching to their own beats. It's cacophonous!

They do this every year with no variation...and there can't be that many new soldiers. So why is it such a mess? Will it be a mess on the day? Who knows? Not me, clearly, as I'm not invited.

week sixteen

I can't decide this week.

This one gets the sentimental vote.
I wish we could take the doorjamb with us when we eventually move.

This one cracks me up--especially considering we're in RUSSIA
where on-street parking is just as likely to be on-sidewalk parking.

The little man says, "YOU are correctly parked?"

week fifteen

Star Wars flashback! (If you even thought "Which Star Wars?" I have no idea why you read my blogs. There's only one.)

Here's my little jawa at the Vienna zoo.

It was so cold and rainy she put on my grey poncho over her raincoat...and her own grey hooded sweater. Two hoods, during lunch, at least, were better than one.

week fourteen

This is a contented girl.

She's in a cami because we had spaghetti for dinner, which is her current favorite. She's wearing a twirly skirt sent from a friend in England and boots from a friend in the US. Both of them are new to her and still a little big--but great for being a cowgirl.

On her lap is the last last, huge, piece of carrot cake from Easter.

She's enjoying the nearly-unheard-of treat of eating in the living room. She asked for a picnic and then settled herself in our monster of a couch--which is incredibly comfortable.

(My camera with no flash is always blurry despite breath-holding and bracing.)

After eating all that cake she looked at me and asked, "Is your tummy a little sick? Do you have to bleh?" I admit to laughing at her and saying that my tummy was fine. I asked if she needed to throw up and she indignantly told me, "No! I don't need to throw up!...Maybe I need to lie down." She proceeded to carefully do so and then asked, "Will you get the bowl?" When I informed her that if she was feeling like throwing up we should go to the toilet, she decided she was fine, but continued to lie down.

She scoffed at the idea that she felt bad from too much cake. Clearly, she thinks too much cake is an oxymoron.

week thirteen

Signs of mud season:

The fruit stand across the canal has re-opened. It's convenient, but not always reliable. This is where they hid moldy strawberries under my nice ones. And, I try not to think about all the pollution landing on these as they sit next to passing cars with no emission standards.


See our playground? Mud. See the naval academy behind the fence? Snow. The only reason we have mud is that snow was trucked away (for the first time since I've been here).

And, the drinking outside my window has increased tremendously. You can't park your car, open the door, and extract your six-year-old without a group of young drinkers peering in and breathing down.

The group pictured got started early. This is early afternoon. They're watching chunks of ice float past.

And, below are more pictures of the ice floating by in the canal. No, they're not the prettiest shots. Yes, I did get put out with the passersby who stared at us (as if we were in the zoo...or on tv...or were blind) in the window.

Knowing big chunks of ice in the canal is photo-worthy (from yesterday's photographing of the group above) Lexi came skittering into the kitchen shouting, "Mama! Come SEE!" Good eye, little one.



This might be ice coming down from Ladoga (I'd have to see the Neva to know for sure.). If so, that's a SURE sign that mud season is upon us.