The boys have been cooped up for the last week or so with a bout of the dreaded GRIPA. Although technically the word GRIPA translates as THE FLU, the implications of the word certainly don't translate over very well. In Latvia, the GRIPA is a terrible, terrible thing. If you get it, you have to obsess about where you could have possibly contracted it, notify everyone you have ever been in contact with, and if your children catch it, the underlying implication from those around you, is that you are A BAD MOTHER - oh, and don't even DREAM of sending your kid back to school/kindergarten until they have stopped coughing. Completely. We don't even want to hear them clear their throat.
Now obviously, flu complications can be dangerous no matter where in the world you are from, but back in Oz I seem to remember "getting the flu" as a fairly common occurrence that was accompanied by a week at home, a bit of panadol, fluids and lots of daytime tv. No stigma attached :)
Anyhow, after having over a week of the plague ravage our household, we finally went out to the park for the first time yesterday. It was uncharacteristically sunny and warm, around zero degrees, which is the perfect temp for sticky snow, good for making snowballs and snowmen. Best part was a huge mountain of snow about 3 metres high which has been created by bulldozing all the snow off the footpaths and into one spot. The boys have loved these snow mountains from when they were very little, climbing to the top and pretending the mountains were castles, or pirate ships, with icy steep downhill slides for quick getaways. Yesterday, of course, the hill gave a perfect vantage point for the boys to attack their poor, defenseless parents with as many snowballs and ice chunks as possible.
If you look closely you can see I am about to be sconned on the back of the head
Vicious little darlings
Jem fights back
Another tradition we have during the winter solstice is our Latvian halloween, or ķekatas, which I described some time ago in 
All of the month of preparing for and celebrating the winter solstice is rounded off with New Years Eve - which for me is always a slight let down. I mean, I enjoy the parties, but after such a long and intense festive season, I've run out of puff. This year we celebrated at our friends' place at Jurmala and counted down to 2011 with sparklers at the (very snowy and frozen) beach. Revellers up and down the coast let off fire works and we watched a host of glittery explosions by the Baltic sea. 
