small assistance

snow on the ground this morning. walking from the flat (via the slippery-as-snot, especially in rain—or, now, snow—tiled expanse) to the bus stop, it's as though i've never seen any of it before. then the scene resolves itself, and i halfway wish that i didn't know where i was going.

a collective glee at NB. met toothless wonders, Luka and Sofija, at the gate, Sofija (as usual) hugging me and saying "the wind blew snow in my face!" Vesna agreed that we could go outside for 15 minutes before lunch, which brought down the house. (this was after the Monday rituals of Sharing the Favourite Toys, followed by Telling About the Weekends, in which i was called upon to regale; unfortunately found myself all bent out of shape because this was the one weekend during which i did nothing worth mention, but i managed to check my bad attitude, swiftly adopting the Narrative Falsehoods in Srpski (for the purposes of conversation practise) persona that i love so dearly.)) everyone, except for Sara (she who gives new meaning to the word "dawdle," despite the scene i cannot rid from my mind of her, this morning, leaping 2 feet in the air, repeatedly, while clutching at the pants she was trying to pull onto herself after Ognen had, by holding onto Sara's ankles, fairly tugged off), was ready to go in about 3 seconds, even given the obstacles: new and cumbersome clothing, several broken zippers, and dense quarters around the cubbies (most kids seem to be getting better, so the head count is usually high these days). outside, a great pile of chopped wood (for the stove that we've been using every day since the temperature dropped), needing to be stacked against our fence, awaited the eager minions. had i detailed this precise scene in "My Idea of an Excellent Recess: On Children as Labourers" during an interview for my position, would i still be taking part in it now...?

moved straight from NB into the final segment of what has been an ongoing ordeal: locating a vacuum cleaner bag for the machine that we found in the closet here and, as such, is both heavy as a stone and from its Age. through many personal visits and phone calls, i have been led all over the city on the quest, only to end up, this afternoon, in a little office down by the "chinese market". apparently, this is where the plans for such things are dreamt up—or, at least, where back issues of spare parts are kept. i would like to say, however, that the word for "vacuum cleaner" (usisivač) sounds strangely like the one for "do you wish to exit the bus?" in any case, i have my object and the possibilities (at least those that involve vacuuming to my chilly heart's content) are endless.

other news of import: as a member of the British Council (funds for dues courtesy of: MCC "project expenses"), i shall never again want for reading material. i will have my Piaget and cronies to supplement the course i'm taking (for lots and lots of credit). and there will be BBC high and low dramas in DVD variety. many of them.

already i can tell that, with so many of my deepest fears allayed, i'll be sleeping better, too—but if my inability continues, then at least i'll have 700 further distractions (thinking of one in particular: the loudest, cleanest) in whose company to pass the howling-winded night.