Trekhprudny Lane

Sick (sinuses). Have not felt sunlight on my skin or seen it come through a window for two full months. Trying to put together a trip in January (at various points in recent days, "decided" on Cyprus, Turkey, Thailand, Maldives, France, Germany, Switzerland, the Italian Alps, a farm stay in Scotland, and the Canaries). Now it looks like all we'll be able to afford is a farm stay in Latvia. That could be lovely, or it could be... well, a backwater corner of a former Soviet republic in January. 

I've wanted to write about the many hands that reach down and help EB and Lula as we move around the city, up and down staircases and escalators and on and off trains -- steadying them, hoisting them up, a hundred anonymous helpers with expressionless faces who rarely acknowledge thanks and just disappear back into the moving crowd. Something about children here that is sacred.