I finish my lessons.  They were good lessons.  I am getting better at timing.  I ask the managers about one of my students – I have had another cancellation, maybe this student would like to come in for the earlier slot on Wednesday?  Good idea, they will ask.

I put my books in my bag, wrap my scarf around my neck, put on my coat, sling my bag over my shoulder and I head out.  My home is 15 minutes walk south.  I turn north.  It is cold.  Ale told me earlier today it was -7C.  It didn’t feel like -7, until the wind blew in your face, and then it felt like -20.  On the bus into the centre this morning I saw the Volga steaming.  The warm river was meeting ice-cold air and clouds of steam were rising off the surface.  It looked wild and dangerous.

I am going to the shopping centre.  I finished my curry last night, so it is time to cook again.  I have thought ahead, and some of the chicken breast in my freezer is defrosting.  It is actually being warmed up by my fridge.  If I left it outside, on the balcony, it would just stay frozen.

I realise my hat is still in my pocket.  My ears are covered by my headphones, and the music is warming my soul.  I wonder if I should put it on, that would mean taking my hands out of my pockets.  I shrug and carry on walking.

I arrive at the shopping centre.  It is comfortingly warm inside.  I head for the Okey supermarket.  I find a short children’s book for the story Snow White.  I think I can use this for translation/reading practice.  They have moved the marmalade.  I find it.  They have lots of shiny, healthy looking peppers.  I splash out on a red and a green.  They have some Mars Ice Cream in stock.  I decide to treat myself.  It feels a little soft when I squeeze the tub, but I figure it will freeze up nicely on the walk home.

I buy a new pan.  I use my big pan for everything, and have to keep washing it, it seems wasteful when I am just heating up small quantities of food.  I buy a small milk-pan sized pan.  Maybe it is a milk pan.

I head for the checkout.  I am no longer embarrassed at being unable to speak fluent Russian, the checkout assistants take us foreigners in their stride.  Just as I am nearing the front of the queue a man steps in front of me and makes an appeal.  I’ve no idea what he is saying but from the context, I assume it is “may I just quickly conduct this short transaction for some cigarettes before you begin your lengthy transaction for all those groceries?” and I nod assent.

I know the sequence.  Something something something sumka… would you like a bag?  Nyet – I show her my empty shopping bag.  She swipes my groceries through.  Something something something karta… do I have a store card?  Nyet – I show her my bank card.  I just want to pay by card.  She runs up the transaction and I insert my card.  I suddenly realise I have forgotten one of the products I specifically came here for.  Most of the other stuff I can get at the shops near me – Radezh or Magnet.  But they do not sell marmalade, they do not sell margarine and they do not sell baked beans.  I bought a new saucepan to heat up beans, and forgot the beans!

I don’t have the words.  I can’t take my shopping back through so I indicate to the checkout lady I’d like to leave it with her.  She is fine with it.  I head back into the store and find my beans.  I return to find my checkout is now the most popular one.  No worries, I am not in a rush, and I can see my bag of shopping.  The queue progresses.  An Asian looking couple have some communication difficulties with the checkout lady.  I smile, partly from empathy and partly from the pleasure of realising there are many non-Russian speakers in this city sharing my challenges on a day to day basis.

Another man steps in front of me with a chocolate bar, he is clearly in a hurry and again he makes a heartfelt plea to my better nature.  One more won’t make any difference, so I let him buy his chocolate bar.  I’ve been in Russia nearly 3 months, no-one has ever queue-jumped me before and now it happens twice in one supermarket visit!

Finally I purchase my beans and head home.  My plan was to get a trolleybus but it’s a long way across the road to the bus stop and I don’t fancy a long wait standing in the cold.  Best to keep moving.  I start heading south, towards home.  My path is blocked by a cherry-picker lorry installing a tall Christmas tree with cascading lights.  It is still a long time until Christmas, and an even longer time until Russian Christmas (on the 7th January).  I stop and watch the lights for a while, oblivious to the cold.

I walk back.  I think again whether I should put my hat on, whether I should pull my scarf over my face.  It’s cold, but it’s not biting cold or painful cold, it is just refreshing.  I just stay as I am.  It’s only 5 or 6 blocks home.  I listen to my music, I maybe sing a bit when there are no people around.  When I see other people they all have hats on.  It was minus 7 this morning, when the sun was shining, it must be minus 10 or 11 now.  I’ll check the internet live weather update when I get in (it will confirm -11C).

The cold, it’s not so bad, really.