Oh, the weather outside's delightful.

It's so bizarre outside that I just have to write about it.

For the third day in a row, I'm looking out the window to a cloudless, bright blue sky.  Across the room, Jack has the window open because the sunbeam he's sitting in has gotten too warm.  This is a miracle.  It's January 8th.  We went running today in short sleeves.  In the park, kids are playing on the swings and running across the grass, discarding mittens in their joy.  Our clothes are drying on the balcony outside (though they do freeze solid at night, so it's not the most efficient process).  But still.  For January in Romania, this is pretty great.

Granted, inside our north-facing apartment, it's cold enough to see our breath and send us scurrying under blankets well before bedtime.  And to be fair, the warmth of the days doesn't linger -- as soon as the sun sets at night, the temperatures plummet in this mountain valley.  But the skies are crystal clear, and without any big cities within a few hours' drive, there's no light pollution.  The stars wink down from their navy velvet blanket, and it's beautiful.  The city Christmas lights shimmer and glow, blue icicles and white snowflakes suspended over the main street for the entire length of Lupeni.  (By the way, Christmas lights here are wild.  Prolific and many-colored.  And usually sort-of disco-style, flashing and blinking erratically in a wild frenzy of Christmas cheer.  I'll try to take a picture.)

Our friend Adi warned us that his grandma has seen this before: unusually balmy days mid-winter, followed by a startling morning when you wake up with snow past the windowsills.  This fall, people were predicting a harsh and miserable winter.  (Romania has its fair share of those -- only two years ago, there was a blizzard so bad in central Romania that people died and whole villages were practically buried in snow.)  But for now, I'm thankful that it's warm.  I do miss the snow (see the previous post) -- but I admit that I'm growing to appreciate this alternative.  And now, even if the winter gets harsh and snow eventually comes and lasts 'til May, it won't feel nearly as long.