Spring Is in the Air? Not Really.

It has been sunny in Moscow this week. Gorgeous, clear blue, cloudless skies.

And temperatures hovering right above freezing.

You definitely still need your winter coat, hat, and gloves.

The double doors are slowing coming down off the Metro entrances. And the smell of paint is becoming more and more evident as the City's Annual Spruce Up Process begins. Don't lean on that wall: might still be wet.

The days are already ridiculously long. It was still light at almost 9:00 last night, and the sun is up well before my alarm goes off at 6:30 a.m. Our apartment is equipped with excellent black-out curtains, and this time of year they sure come in useful. I know folks here with skylights who say no one sleeps come spring because the bedrooms never get dark enough.

Last night the twilight sky held a full moon, flat and pale as Limoges porcelain.

My downside to this is that the sun pours into our apartment making it painfully evident what a lousy housekeeper I truly am. You can write your name in the dust. Which is everywhere. And let's not even talk about my windows.

Only I could get cranky because it is sunny out. What an Eeyore.

I'm also in a mood because the children have a two-week school holiday coming up, and I can't figure out what to do. Everything seems prohibitively expensive. Believe it or not, I am cheap. And given the economic climate, some belt-tightening seems in order. I'm sure it's my imagination, but is everyone else in the world jetting off to warmer climes except me? So I'm pouting.

This afternoon, on my way home from collecting the children at school, I found a ten-ruble note on the floor in the Metro. I gave it to the legless accordion player, an older man who has been a regular among the kiosks on Tsvetnoi Bulvar the past few days. I said hello to him as I dropped the money in his box, and he smiled and looked up at me with the most beautiful pale blue eyes I have ever seen. The children, who have been squabbling of late, looked at him. "I guess things could be worse," Skittles noted.

I also found, while crossing the Garden Ring, a bundle of pussy willow branches someone must have dropped. You see people around town carrying these home, trying to infuse their apartments with a touch of spring.

Money and flowers: what more could a girl want?

Today has been rather uneventful, although Man Friday came back today to finish replacing our shower head. It looks fine to me. But he pointed out that although he got the longest hose he could find, the wall mount could allow us to raise the shower head higher. As it is, it is as high as it can go.

The Spouse is 6'6" (2 meters). Fingers crossed it is high enough for him. This is the one thing he checks when looking at rental property: can he stand in the shower without having to duck.

I'm fairly sure it will work. I'll let you know.

I got two legs. I got a touch of spring. I got a functioning shower. I ought to take a lesson from Skittles, I guess.