We watched Captain America and drank some wine. I realized that this was a pretty rare New Year's Eve, as it was the first since Dec. 31, 2006, that I was not pregnant or nursing. So yay for that.
After the movie was over (a very lame 10:30 p.m.), we went to bed. Except then the fireworks started. And continued. And continued. I think I finally dozed off around 2 a.m., only to be awakened several more times by fireworks. I looked out the window a couple times, and saw them. Once was exactly at midnight. I woke Jeremy up and wished him a Happy New Year. He mumbled and rolled over. I heard my last firework at 5:13 a.m. Russians really like fireworks. They also really like New Year's Eve.
We went to church on New Year's Day. Predictably, it was very empty. I would say the congregation was about one-third the size it usually is.
After naps, we drove out to a winter festival where they had advertised a 9-meter-high replica of the Kremlin. Except it was 35 degrees and the guard told us nothing was going on because it was too warm. So we decided to go play in the park by Novodevichy Convent. We had a great time. I pulled Z around on the sled while Natasha slid down the hill with Jeremy. We ran into a gaggle of Japanese tourists who crowded around Z and took pictures of "the Russian baby." Joke's on them. I saw a dog wearing a Louis Vuitton coat, and a woman sculpting the most beautiful snow-girl I've ever seen. Later, a very drunk Ded Moroz gave Natasha a keychain. Unfortunately, Jeremy had the camera so I have no photographic evidence.
We left as dusk set in, and I got the camera back in time to take this photo of the convent:
We weren't ready to go home, and decided to take advantage of the traffic-free roads to drive to Red Square. It was hopping.