One minute sunshine next minute snow

I had an it-could-only-happen-to-me moment today as I was walking home at lunchtime. The streets are covered in sludgy snow (so it's snowing but it's turning instantly to sludge) and a very nice bloke in a car drenched me in said sludgy snow when he drove past me very fast. At least the Russian people who were nearby learnt some new English words: very bad words, which may come in handy if they are ever visiting England and they want to abuse the locals.

The thermals are back on and so are the snowboots... I feel uncomfortable again. There may be grumpy blogs ahead. I'm back to feeling like I'm walking through Dickensian London, before the days of good drainage. What's the Siberian equivalent of Dickensian London? Well that's where I'm living. It was funny though, when I popped in to the shop to see my friend Mel C, she wasn't there so I asked the Babushka behind the counter (who looked like Kate Bush but her career isn't quite over enough for her to be living here) 'kto Mel C Pischalsta?' She explained that Mel C had been caught stealing pilmeni and as a result has been sent to excile in some far off Siberian town. I never really liked her anyway. Maybe she can entertain the other prisoners with accapella versions of old Spice Girls hits. Let's hope so.