Monthly Archive: January 2005

The moon is a dusty thumbprint in a clear blue sky, and the winter sun is blazing down low, making sharp shadows and sparking off every surface. A sugar-coating of snow was sifted down upon the ground during the night, it sparkles in the sunlight. A pair of swans in the pond, one standing, one afloat, he bends his neck down and touches her gently with his beak. They are so white in the blue and shining pond. Quiet day of AWC work, laundry, grocery shopping. My family arrived home at 7 p.m. and all is right in my world...

This morning when I went out to the car, there were cabochon ice diamonds all over the windshield. I had to scrape them off so I could see to drive, but oh! how I wanted to string them on a silver chain and wear them. Because it wasn’t overcast I could see how light it was already at 7:45 a.m. That’s the thing about the gradual light increase. It sneaks up on us here in Sweden because it’s so cloudy and rainy all the time in the winter that we don’t KNOW there are changes going on up there behind...

How cool is this?! I just got my new business cards for work and when I went to put a small stash of them in my purse, I found THREE gift certificates in the inside pocket that I had completely forgotten about! 1000 kronor to spend on books and 400 on JEWELRY! WOOT! I smell a shopping spree! Karin called last night from the cabin while I was at choir practice and the message on the answering machine went something like this, only much much faster and more high-pitched: Mama! Mama! Mama?? MAMA!! Martin, you have to come here! Mama...

I suspect most people, when they’re busy, find that time flies. They lose all track of time and suddenly it’s 5 p.m. and the bell is ringing, “time to go home!” This morning at work, where I was completely immersed in a huge, busy, fun, long list of projects and things to do and tasks to complete and jobs to handle, enough to have lasted what felt like several days I checked my watch, sure that I had missed lunch time and it was the middle of the afternoon, only to find it was ONLY 10:40 A.M. That is SO...

It occurs to me that this looks like a meme, but really it’s just me trying to jumpstart a journal entry. Things I’ve Never Done That I’m Proud of: smoked a cigarette, worn beer goggles, driven recklessly Things I Wouldn’t Do Even If You Paid Me: bungee-jump, eat snails, be unfaithful to my husband Things I’ve Done But Wouldn’t Do Again: given birth, lied about something important, approached an unfamiliar dog Things I Would Do in a Heartbeat: play Euchre, help a friend in need, hide candy from the children Things I Would Do Right Now If I Could Find...

Really, people, stop putting links to great blogs and great writers and great artists on your journals and your websites, and don’t let any of those cool people with the great sites write comments on your posts anymore with a clickable link to said great site, because honestly, HOW MANY FREAKING BLOGS CAN I KEEP UP WITH, ALREADY?!

I loved living alone. There was something so satisfying about having my own space, my own things around me, everything just how I wanted it. I’ve only lived alone once and for a rather short time, in Chicago. It was between 1993 and 1995, 2 years before I met Anders and during the point when I was fed up with boyfriends and the whole dating scene. After having had roommates continually from 1982 when I started college until then, I figured it was a good time to try living alone. I didn’t know it would create a need in me...

Anders and the kids are leaving extremely early tomorrow for their annual father-kid ski trip up north in the mountains of Sweden. They’re picking up Anders’ best friend Mats, along with his son Viktor, on the way and they’ll be gone for 8 days. It’s going to be SO QUIET around these parts. What will I do without Karin jumping up and down on my head, wrestling me to the ground, giving me backrubs and telling me I’m the best? What will I do without Martin reading me terrible jokes from his new 2001 Jokes & Riddles book that my...

Sometimes, when I don’t know what to write about, I just start typing and the words flow, at least to a certain extent, often with stops and starts and deletes and re-writes, but at least I end up with a journal entry. Sometimes, when I don’t know what to write about I think back over the day and remember something amusing that happened or something funny someone said, or something beautiful that I saw and that is enough to get me started. Sometimes, especially when I’m not feeling well, nothing works, and I’m left staring at the screen, thinking, “I...

I feel a bit at loose ends, which is really stupid, because honestly, I had enough upheaval in my life just 5 months ago and god knows that was stressful enough and I certainly don’t want to have that ulcer-inducing time back. It’s not that I want to take on any new projects or uproot myself or anything, so why the restless feeling? Is it my military brat blood wooshing back and forth marking the fact that I’m past the halfway point for moving on? Since we usually moved every 3 years when I was growing up we adjusted to...