A blizzard has been blowing all day, drifting the snow into every street. Mountains of it have fallen. Walls and cornices and windows are covered with snow. There might not have been a town at all; the houses seemed to be standing in absurd array in the midst of snowy fields. I happened to pass the Isaac Cathedral. The snow had drifted on to pillars and steps. The pillars were so cold that it made one shudder to look at them. Men and women, muffled up, fought their way against the wind; only those who were compelled to, ventured out of doors, the rest kept within. I began to wonder suddenly what it would be like to have no home to go back to, and to be forced to remain in the streets in weather like this. It would be enough to drive one mad. What is it like in the trenches now? + 

I have no time for my diary nowadays. I bring home so much work from the office as to leave me hardly any breathing space. And my health, I am sorry to say, is anything but good; I am always tired and sleepy and cold⁠—so cold that I find it hard to keep warm in bed with my two heavy blankets. Our house is a warm one, fortunately. + 

It is nearly Christmas, and still there is no end to the war. In the squares, where in former years Christmas-trees used to be sold, soldiers are drilling. They help to make things jolly, though. You can’t help being drawn to them. I saw a curious sight in the Palace Square the other day, which amused me very much at a first glance. About fifty men were drilling there, and seen from the distance, they looked as though the sun were shining full on them. The effect was strange, for it was a dull day and the sun had not been out at all. I laughed when I came closer. Every man of them had a red beard, which gave the effect of sunlight. My silly laughter died away, however, when I came closer still, for though the beards were red, the faces were old and pale and drawn; there was no light in the eyes; dull despair was expressed in them. They were reservists, men who had families, no doubt. I learnt afterwards that men with red beards were chosen for some special regiment. + 

I am trying to earn as much as I possibly can to be able to take Sasha and the children to Finland for a few days at Christmas, if only to get away from the newspapers for a bit. It would do Sasha good to get a rest from the hospital, and I, too, am tired. The rooms seem so gloomy, as though we were going blind. We can hardly distinguish each other’s pale faces in the gloom. I am very, very tired. + 