Bulgaria with Noodles

More years ago than I care to remember, I was teaching at The British School of Bucharest. In my Year 5 class was a young lady called Ottilie, although this inevitably became shortened to "Ott". In one of their English lessons, we were trying to write some extra verses for Edward Lear's The Akond of Swat , so Ottlie's abbreviated name came in very handy! Here is a photo of the young lady in question, looking rather shocked and wondering, "Who is this weird man? Please don't tell me that he is my new teacher!" The other day I was so pleased to her from Sophie. Ottlie's Mum. (Does "Mum" really deserve a capital letter? Well, Sophie certainly deserves a capital M because she was a star and helped my class a lot when we were baking lots of bread and cakes.)

Getting to school in the morning is quite a ritual. Two pairs of socks, then the second pair of trousers, lace up the boots, scarf, coat, hat and gloves. Then take it all off again at school and change into a soft pair of shoes. Yes, snow in the city is a pain and just walking along the slippery pavements can be slow and tiring. In the huge park across the road from our apartment, the snow can still be pretty and a lot of fun. Sledging is popular with the youngsters, although dads and even some mums seem to be glad of an excuse to have a go with their children.  Even when it is cold and the wind is biting, my dear Irisha still looks lovely. I am going to miss her next weekend, as she is going to Bucharest, to stay with her friend Inna for a few days. Innichka and Irisha became friends becase they always used to walk their dogs in Parcul Herastrau. And in the distance, you can just make out the looming mass of Mount Vitosha.