11 January 1914

A sunny day, but so cold, it makes my teeth hurt. Just as we finished our morning lessons, Papa came out of his study, where he had been working since breakfast, and announced that we must go ice skating. My sisters and I dressed in our warmest woolen skirts and thick stockings and fur jackets and ran outside with Papa. Alexei couldn’t go, but he waved to us from his window on the second floor in the south wing of the palace.

We ran to the lake in the middle of the imperial park, where the servants built a roaring fire near the warming hut. As soon as we’d strapped on our skates, Papa got us playing crack-the-whip. I challenged Mashka to a race and won. I couldn’t beat Tatiana, because she’s the tallest and her legs longest, but when I grow more I’ll beat her with no trouble.

Papa stopped us often to make sure our noses were not getting frostbitten. “Keep moving! Keep moving, my dears!” he called out, but we didn’t need this advice, because to stand still in such weather is to freeze solid as an ice statue.

Later Mashka asked if I remembered the time I made a snowball with a rock inside and threw it at her, and it knocked her almost unconscious.

That was wicked of her to mention it. Of course I remember! Olga Alexandrovna, Papa’s younger sister, scolded me that day until I cried. Papa never scolds me, and Mama hardly ever. It’s only Aunt Olga who does. Yet she’s my godmother, and I love her best, after Mama and Papa! But nobody in this dratted family will let me forget that stupid snowball.