North of the Arctic Circle

The sun is shining from behind one of the many scattered clouds in the arctic sky above. I am sitting on the log railing of the porch of our little rental cabin. Dogs are wiped out from all the car rides and hikes and the current heat so instead of roaming around or chasing each other in the yard, they are just sacked out on the deck next to me, except for getting a tad riled up by the occasional passing boat.

When we packed out bags and dogs and foods into the car last Sunday, the weather was far from being nice. Not exactly bad down in Helsinki, but getting worse as we advanced towards the northern parts of Finland. Maybe a hundred kilometers from Oulu it got downright stormy. We were going to stop at Vaskikello to admire the nice bells and have some dinner, but as it went, we ate in the car and waited for the worst to pass.

The evening at Kempele was nice and almost like sunny. No more rain, let alone storm. We crashed for the night in a crappy yet tidy motel that accepted our dogs too and continued our journey in the morning after a meager breakfast at the neighboring gas station.

Just like the previous day, the storm front was long and narrow and exactly above E75, following its course. We got some rains before arriving at Rovaniemi, but there while the dogs and I were waiting for Husband to do some shopping at the Prisma there (the last big supermarket on the way up north), a thunderstorm hit the area. Meggie was in sheer terror, panting and trembling for the whole time.

As we continued our drive north past the Arctic Circle line, towards Sodankylä (and the last Lidl on our way), the weather started to clear up ever so slightly, with a faint promise of sun instead of rain. It was cloudy and cool at Luosto where we made a little excursion out of our route, just to walk a bit, but at least we remained dry.

Our cabin here at Vuotso is a really nice one, small but compact and cozy. The dogs are a bit nervous in it, not really feeling at home, but managing. Like little babies. Need to be watched over while they’re eating and such. Plus, they need to be lifted up to the sleeping quarters because of the steep stairs they can’t manage on their own. That right there is a nightmare for Timmy who does not like to be lifted at all in the first place.

On the first evening here I made some guacamole, entrecôte souvlaki and skewers of onion, peppers and tomato. We popped a bottle of bubbly and later on a bottle of red wine as Husband set out to grill the skewers and souvlaki in the fire pit. Our vacation had started.

Our first day here dawned cloudy and cool. We slept in, made breakfast ever so leisurely – warming up karelian pies in the oven and brewing some espresso on the Bialetti – and set out to Ivalo to scout out our surroundings a bit. I went to the local S-market there and discovered an actual coffee shop there.

I ordered two regular cappucinos to go and was astounded to get the smallest cappucinos I’ve ever seen anywhere, for pretty much the same price as a regular proper size cappucino is at home, down south. The coffee was good, mind you, the one that we ended up sharing with Husband after I spilled the other one all over the trunk of our car. Heavily overpriced though.

On our way back to the cabin we got off the main road in Saariselkä and drove to the top of Kaunispää. It’s a tourist trap, but since we’re not exactly gonna hike up any of those mountains, er, fells, I figured it would be cool to at least drive up one then. There’s a rather big souvenir shop up there and I got some gifts for the teens and found the most beautiful amethyst ring that I’ve been dreaming of since. Just not in our budget right now.

Yesterday we woke up relatively early and after the breakfast we packed some lunch in a backpack and started our day trip up north to Inari and then on towards the western border for a small hike in the beautiful scenery of Kevo natural park. We did a short pitstop in Ivalo and a longer one in Inari where we took turns in scouring the inventory of the shop there. Husband found a nice new knife for himself, I a lovely silver “Lapland Risku” necklace for myself.

Up there in Inari there is a little water plane airport with a sightseeing plane just waiting for customers. I was walking around with the dogs for some time while waiting for Husband to pick his knife, thinking that if we didn’t have our dogs with us, I’d have been interested in going for a sightseeing flight. It is a bit restrictive to travel with dogs.

Once we got to the Sulaoja parking lot the sun was hot on a mostly clear sky. We changed our sandals to trekking shoes and set off on the trail. I have been hiking there once before, when I was fourteen years old and went on a 4-5 day hike with my dad and godfather. Kevo, even the southernmost parts of it, was as awesome as I remembered.

Hiking further into the natural park you would find an amazing ravine (nothing like the Grand Canyon of course, but our Finnish smaller scale similar kind of place) and about two days hike into the area there is Finland’s biggest (I think) waterfall. Again, not exactly the Niagara falls, but worth seeing anyway. I remember camping quite close to the waterfall, watching the midnight sun and thinking that life up there is pretty awesome.

Yesterday we did not venture further than approximately one kilometer into the park, walking a trail of two kilometers total. We didn’t see the best of the ravine, just a hint of one. Obviously, no waterfall either. We did however pass the biggest natural spring in the country. The spring is underwater, at the bottom of a pond that lets out into a brooke, and the water on the surface is like jade, with a really peculiar hue. The spring I had not seen before.

Today we didn’t drive far, only about forty kilometers north to Laanila where we walked approximately one kilometer to an abandoned gold mine – to be exact, it was in action for only two years in 1902-04 and no gold was ever found there – to look aroud a bit, and then back to the car. We had lunch picnic by a little brooke next to the info parking area and I walked in the stream a bit to get some photos.

Last night, or even the one before, the skies were clear and there would’ve been a chance to see the midnight sun again. Last night I was asleep at that time, the night before I did actually venture outside around midnight after finishing my book and before going to sleep, but our cabin is in a spot where the sun goes behind a pine forest around ten, so no midnight sun here for us.

On the second evening here we warmed up the sauna and enjoyed some “löyly” and chilling on the deck while munching on fennel and lamb sausages grilled on the rocks, in the sauna. Yesterday evening, after returning from Kevo, we grilled a ranch entrecôte in the fire pit and had some red wine and mozzarella salad with it.

Traveling with dogs, you can’t exactly pick and choose a restaurant and eat out every evening, but I believe we’re eating better than we would in any restaurant anyway. The only thing missing is some fresh reindeer meat. We’ve seen plenty of them walking around, on the road, in the wilderness, but it’s not slaughter time now and there’s only frozen meat in the stores.

Now the firepit is blazing again with a bonfire happily dancingw, producing coals for us to grill some blue cheese burgers to go with guacamole. Two full days left of this Lapland vacation. I could easily be happy here for a longer time. Vuotso is the perfect location, this cabin is secluded from the tourist zones and just the nicest little cabin. Yes, I would very well like it here for a couple weeks longer.

[More Lapland pics in Flickr]

Impressions

Just a fancy title for a post of this and thats. Impressions is the title of my art diary, a notebook I use for just random drawings and paintings, the impressions that I’d rather illustrate than describe in writing (though, most commonly I do both). Impressions is also the hashtag I decided to use for the drawings or paintings I publish on my Artzy Bunny Facebook page, when they are originally from my Impressions art diary.

The first thing Facebook showed me this morning was a picture of me and my Honda Civic 7 years ago. At the time of purchase it was three years old, had 18000km on the odo and was the first car I’d ever owned myself. Still, four years ago I traded it for a new Honda Insight, automatic transmission (which was the only real enhancement, if you don’t count the stereo supporting USB stick). I still miss my Civic. It was a damned nice car, the sports model having enough power, the smallish car being agile enough, the ride smooth and easy, a car matching my temperament perfectly. Some day, I will be driving a Civic again. Don’t get me wrong, our Mercedes is nice. It’s just so huge!

I woke up this morning with a bit of a headache. We had a nice sauna last night and even though I did drink almost a liter of sparkly water (with a bit of grapefruit juice in it) while in sauna, I guess I didn’t rehydrate myself properly afterwards or something. I have been without alcohol (and sugar and white/fast carbs) for a month now and generally haven’t had any headaches during that time. I’ve been feeling fabulous, even my spirits have lifted, and I’ve slowly but surely started to lose these extra kilos I had gained during the past year or two. Life has been a bit hard since my mom died two years ago, and even more so after my grandma died last August.

It’s almost mid June and the weather has gone from summery May to a cold and rainy June. Kind of normal, though. I just hope we’ll get a proper July this year, not a stromy cold one like last year. We’re in the June birthday zone now. A few days ago my mom would’ve turned 63. Today, my beloved hometown Helsinki is celebrating it’s 466th birthday with the traditional Helsinki Day. Tomorrow is my turn, and after that a bunch of my ex-relatives ave their birthdays. At the end of June my older niece is turning four.

Yesterday I was having an artsy day. After doing the one garden job I had planned for the day – planting the black currant bush my dad gave my younger daughter for ending elementary school – I took out my water colors and paint brushes and painted a picture of that little bush in my Impressions notebook, then moved on to paint a starfish card, then went out to the yard with our acrylic colors and brushes and I painted a pheasant. Later in the evening, while warming up our sauna, I decided to try out the oil pastels and drew a colorful fish card. I felt relaxed and somehow satisfied.

Painting and drawing does that to me. I don’t have the patience to color these mindfullness coloring books, someone else’s drawings with little details. They couldn’t interest me less. I need to create myself, even if I’m no Monet. I need to experiment and try out things and learn on my own. Even the idea of taking some drawing lessons agitates me. To me, the whole process of letting it flow from within, even if the result is not technically as good as it could be with some studying, is the most important thing. Just like in writing, too. Since school, I haven’t studied writing and I don’t want to.

Another thing about this cool time of early summer is the ticks. About a month ago we applied this tick repellent liniment on the dogs. Most apparently it has now worn off. They do say it only lasts for four weeks. Last night I tried to slap and kill the little insect that was tickling my arm – I mean, between tiny flying things and aphids, it’s not that uncommon to have something crawling on your arm around here (we may live in Helsinki, but we live in a suburb with nice yards and patches of forest – almost like countryside). Usually these little crawlers are easily killed but not this one. Nope. And I understood the reason, when I picked it up and looked at it. A damned tick! And then I picked another one from the back of the other dog. Nearly freaked out enough not to sleep.

I did though, sleep that is. For almost 12 hours I slept quite solidly. Would’ve slept even longer if it wasn’t for my husband who decided there around eleven that it was time to wake up and smell the coffee (obviously, waiting for me to get up and fix the cappucinos, since somehow mysteriously it has become my job).

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Overwhelmed by dreams

To dream is good, they say. I have a dream. A dream of having a house on Tinos, facing the Aegean Sea. A house with a nice veranda and a garden. I would sit on the veranda, sipping a freddo cappucino or a gin&tonic, sometimes reading, sometimes writing. Sometimes I’d tend to the garden with my husband. The deep blue Aegean glistening in the sun, my skin parched by the sun, the salt and the wind. Like one of the tomatoes being sun dried in our garden.

To dream is good, they say. They’re supposed to keep you alive, push you forward into achieving them. Yet, whenever I let myself acknowledge my persisting dream, it seems to crush me underneath of it. It overwhelms me. Is it too big? Is there such a thing as a dream too big? It’s too unprobable. Some day, we’ll get out of the city, buy a house in the middle of nowhere. Maybe some day we’ll buy a house somewhere in the coasts of Finland. That’s a more realistic dream and goal. That’s a dream that doesn’t weigh heavily on me.

Finnish countryside is beautiful in its own simplistic (to my eyes) way. Finnish coastal areas and archipelago even more so with the bare rugged bedrock and crooked pine trees. The sea, the Baltic sea, is barely a sea – it’s shallow and gray and low on salt – but still it IS a sea. It’s the sea I grew up by, the sea that saw my tears and heard my cries when I used to haunt the shores as a troubled teen, the semi-salty wind blowing in my face, tousling my hair. I used to love that sea and that wind. It was before I met the Aegean and the meltemi.

My backup dream is to get a nice house with a nice big yard next to the sea somewhere there on the southwest coast of Finland. A place with its own shoreline, a place where I could feel the salty wind and watch the unruly sea from our own veranda. Not a bad way to live, that either. If it wasn’t for the cold. These Finnish winters with barely a hope of any kind of summer are killing me slowly but surely. Four out of five Finnish summers are so cold that I feel betrayed when autumn comes.

I told my husband this morning, when I was feeling the longing to the sun so keenly that it brought tears to my eyes, that the best thing would be to have both, one day. The remote house somewhere there by the Gulf of Finland and a summer house there on Tinos. Tinos is not exactly a warm and fuzzy place in the winter time either, what with the fierce storms and all. But then again, if we would be able to spend half of the year – the better half at that – on Tinos, what does it really matter where we suffer the long cold months of winter? It’s the same snow and ice and cold everywhere around here. No real pleasure in a frozen sea, now is there?

While there are quite pretty (old, I like the old architechture, the 1800’s style best) houses in Finland too, I absolutely love the Mediterranean architechture, and the Cycladean architechture especially. I love the old villages and towns, with narrow passages between white washed houses with cobalt blue window panes and the occasional blue roof. With bougeainvilleas and oleanders blooming. Still, it is the solitary solace of a lone house on a cliff I am looking for. A house overlooking the sea, within walking distance of a beach. Nothing extravagant. Just a simple house with a simple patio.

Maybe one day my dream – a dream I know my husband shares – will come true. Just maybe. I keep on dreaming, though mostly I need to push the dream aside, away from my conciousness, bury it in some dark nook just to survive. Otherwise it overwhlems me to tears, crushes me down in despair, wanting. Wanting so bad that it hurts, but not being able to do anything about it. Not now, anyway. Maybe some day. Maybe.

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God, how I miss that place where the wind blows, setting my soul free!

2015 goods and bads – hyvät ja pahat

Yritin, mutten osaa enkä kykene. Aina olen jonkinlaisen katsauksen menneeseen vuoteen tehnyt. Tämä viime vuosi, mahtuuhan siihen monta hyvää hetkeä, mutta nyt pääni täyttää vain yksi ajatus: tämä oli se vuosi jolloin isoäitini kuoli. Ehkä se jo yksinään kertoo, kuinka paljon hän minulle merkitsi, merkitsee vielä kuoltuaankin. Jos nyt jotain muutakin koitan vuodesta muistaa, niin esikoisen protujuhla ja omat nelikymppiset, nuo parit bileet kesällä. Ja se viimeinen päiväni isoäitini kanssa landella kahden. Mersun kuntoon laitto ja katsastus. Erinäisistä syistä vaikea viime talvi. Isoäidin hautajaiset syyskuussa ja kummitädin isän hautajaiset marraskuussa. Loputon ikävä.

I tried, but I can’t. I’ve always done some sort of recap of the past year at this point of the year. This past year, there’s plenty of good moments, but still, right now the one thing occupying my mind is this: this was the year when grandma died. Maybe that alone tells the tale of how important she was to me, still is even dead. Trying to remember something else about this year, first things that pop to my mind are my oldest daughter’s “protujuhla” party and my own 40th birthday party. And that last day at our summerplace, just my grandma and me. Fixing our Mercedes. Last winter that was difficult for several reasons. The funerals of my grandma and my godmother’s father. The never-ending pain of missing my grandma.

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Tatuoinnit, Berliinin reissu, kivat ulkoilut… Annan nyt kuitenkin periksi. Ehkä ensi vuonna taas. Toivottavasti se on hyvä vuosi, vaihteeksi.

Tattoos, trip to Berlin, fun outings… Anyway, I give up. Maybe again next year. Hope it’s a good one, for a change.

I have a dream

I have a dream. And I know how stupid it sounds when I talk about it and then give all the millions of excuses for not pursuing it for real.

I have a dream. I want to write a book or two or maybe even more. Not just any books, but books about my grandmother’s journey from Carelia, from Vyborg, to Helsinki as a refugee of the second World War. Books about the carefree childhood, the teen years in Vyborg, the summers at the country home in Huumola, the voyage from Vyborg to Vaasa to Helsinki. Not the usual memoirs, but novels. With a storyline that brings the whole life there alive to the reader.

I have a dream. I want to write abook about my husband’s adventures in the States some years ago. In the same manner. I already started that one while he was gone there, but never continued when he came back home. Then again, I don’t even know if I’d like to publish that one while he’s still alive.

I have a dream. I want to write a book about my own teen years of growing up, struggling in my relationship with my dad. And mom, in retrospect, in ways I didn’t understand back then. I didn’t really understand much back then. It has all started to dawn on me after my mother’s death. I want to write a story about the girl who’s me, but not me. I don’t want to write faithful-to-the truth narratives. I want to write stories based on the true stories.

I want to write. I want to write something that matters. I want to write something that is more than just a blog post that has 10 readers. More than just a novella or short story lost and forgotten in the masses of stories in the Internet. I want to write books that people will want to read. Books that they might benefit from in a way or another. Books that have the potential to change, if not the world, the world of a reader or few.

I have a dream and my fever is rising. I want to pursue it.

I need time. I need time to write, I need time to do the research I suck at. I want to get my facts right in the books, even if they are fiction. I suck at research. It’s a wonder I ever managed to finish my Master’s Thesis. I have no patience for research. Still, I need to do it. I need time. I need the feeling that I’m not in a hurry, that there’s no rush, that I have all the time in my life. That I can use up hours for research and then write another day.

I have a dream I cannot realize while working all days and taking care of kids and dogs in the evening, being with my husband. I love my family. They are my inspiration, my meaning for living.They keep my feet on the ground and my emotions roiling and my self strongly attached to *life*.

I have a dream of having a little house by the seaside, with a little veranda overlooking the sea. I would sit there on the veranda, with my research books, with my laptop. I would read, I would write. I would gaze at the sea for inspiration. At times it would be stormy, at other times still and glistening in the bright sun.

I have a dream and I want to try my wings. I wish I could. I hope I live to see the day when I can. I hope I live to be able to fulfill my dream. To dream is good, right?