Family Christmas

Yesterday was Christmas Eve, the day of the main Christmas celebrations in Finland. The weather outside was frightful, not at all for any snow or snowfall, but for the pouring rain. This year, we can only dream of a white Christmas in the midst of all the grayness outside. We had no delightful fire either, not in our fireplace anyway, for our fireplace is not in any cozy kind of a room, but downstairs in this passthrough area.

What we did have, was candles, good food and family. And a cinnamon stick, some cloves and raisins slowly brewing in a little chocolote fondue pot, spreading around a touch of Christmas smells. This time of the year, our day here is less than six hours long anyway, so apart from taking the dog out, you couldn’t really even notice the miserable weather. Or, well, I guess you could, but it was quite easy to forget, with all the warmth inside the house.

During the week before Christmas, the girls had baked and decorated some gingerbread cookies and a small gingerbread house. Those, and some Christmas chocolates and marmalades and those candles, made up for most of our Christmas decorations this year. My husband and I even felt a bit creative on Sunday and hung up the cookies on the wall, in a Christmas tree pattern, and a bell pattern.

Our daughters, who otherwise we spending this week with their other parents, came around noon or early afternoon yesterday, to spend the Christmas Eve here together with us. The Christmas that may well be the last for my mom, what with her advanced lung cancer, unless the chemo treatments strating early next year slay the cancer significantly. So we were all here. Me and my husband, our three daughters, my sister and her husband and little daughter, my mom and of course our newest family member the dog too.

We had our kind of traditional Finnish Christmas, picking out the parts we like and adding to it. We had the first course with smoked salmon, salted salmon, salmon eggs (you see a pattern here?), boiled potatoes, mushroom salad and such. We had the main course with a tiny ham, half of a smoked turkey, the sides of baked potato and rutabaga casseroles and peas, pomegranate seeds and such. And we had the coffee table with three different sorts of cakes and chocolates and gingerbread and all.

We took it easy. Doing things bit by bit in no hurry, the table was set by the time my mom came with my sister’s family at around three in the afternoon. And by the time the oldest of daughters came home from walking the dog, all wet and miserable, the first course was served. After that, taking a break to clean up the first course, have a sample of my husband’s home brewed stout beer (not me though, I dislike beer heavily!), we sat down for the equaly delicious main course.

With our bellies full, we let the kids out of their anxiety and carried the piles of presents to the living room. Wth the new dog who is still only learning to behave, we did not venture a Christmas tree this year, nor even dare leave the presents piled up anywhere in sight, but had them hidden in my mom’s room until it was time to pass them out to their receivers.

Obviously the girls had been real good all year long, me not so much (though I did get the white winter coat I’ve been wanting all autumn, but I sort of propagated that myself 😉 ). At least if you believe in Santa and the elves and all that bs about being nice, not naughty. I don’t really. I mean I don’t exploit such things as naughty or nice children. I discipline them and correct their behaviour if it’s not good. But none of that unnecessary shaming in this house. We are all worthy, even if sometimes our behaviour may not be good like it should.

So, anyway. All the girls, from the smallest to the biggest one, got a quite sensible pile of gifts. Things that they had wished for, nice things they needed. Like some shirts, sweaters, PS3 games, One Direction stuff… And the oldest daughter we deemed old enought to get the proper Nikon Coolpix camera she had dreamed of. She is a very good photographer too! And I’ve got to say now I’m a bit jealous of the camera. It’s way better than mine 😉

My sister left with her family in the early evening, to put the littlest one to sleep. Our girls went downstairs to the TV room to watch the One Direction movie This Is Us. My mom went to take a nap. It was only me, my man and our dog sitting in our combined dining and living room, listening to some music after cleaning up the kitchen. We went for a walk with the dog, enjoying the fresh air as it was not raining anymore, and saying hi to other dogs and their walkers we met on our way.

Today the girls went back to their other parents again. The house is quiet again after a good 24 hours (minus the night hours 😉 ) full of the happy sounds of the girls. Me, my husband, the dog and my mom. They’ll be back on Friday, or at least the oldest and youngest will; the middle one is spending some time at her grandma’s and will join us when coming back from there. I like the peace and quiet, but at the same time I miss them too.

The youngest of them gave me a chocolate lollipop for Christmas, together with this wooden heart where she had written Marry Christmas, Mom (in Finnish). The lollipop said “I love you”. I just ate it. I love you too, baby! I love all of my girls! It was a lovely Christmas Eve with family ❤

 

All bogged down

Out for another hike. My husband has been out and about in our neighborhood quite a lot lately, and visiting some other places too a couple times, like hiking in Karkali, Lohja, last week on day when I was visiting a customer at Lohja. After that he started to look for a nice place not too far away, to go both hiking and camping for the night, and came up with the Torronsuo National Park, most of which is bog (Torronsuo = the bog of Torro).

Friday after I was home from work, we went to the stores to get me a proper sleeping bag as I only had one that was good for indoor usage; it’s been so long since I last went camping, that I was actually using my dad’s down sleeping bag back then… We were also looking for a waterproof jacket for me, but in the end, I decided to borrow one of my husband’s, as big as it was for me.

Back at home we started to pack our stuff into our backpacks. We gathered our clothes and knives and water bottles, a small first aid kit, dry snacks, rubber boots – it was said that if you go off duckboards ankle-high hiking boots won’t be high enough – and I even dug out my compass. We attached the sleeping mattresses and sleeping bags to the backpacks, making everything as ready as possible for the next morning.

There was no alarm going off in the morning, but we were awake by 8:30 and padded downstairs for a cappucino, some bacon and eggs and a shower. I made us some rye sandwiches and my husband packed a couple packages of sausages in his backpack and we were good to go with our 15-18kg backpacks. Maybe a bit of an overkill, but we had no idea what we really needed and what not.

We started out towards Forssa, not exactly certain where we were supposed to go, so we had two initial stops in mind. #1 an Alko in Forssa (original plan was to get a bottle of wine for the evening by the fireplace, but settled on a couple of ciders after all), #2 the Häme Visitor Center for some maps and other info on the National Park.

First thing we noticed as we approached Forssa was a Citymarket. Quite certain we’d find an Alko (the government owned liqour store, the only one allowed to sell wine, booze and such) there, we cruised to the parking lot and got out of the car. And true enough, there it was, the Alko. But first we took a turn in the Citymarket, where I found myself that waterproof jacket, one that I actually liked, that is.

With my new jacket and the ciders added to the other stuff in the trunk of our car, we turned our wheels toward the general direction of the Visitor Center. Not knowing exactly where it was, I was googling for an address and accidentally found the Siri-copy on my Lumia: press the window button down for a few secs and a “talk to me” app launches. So I tried “Search for Häme Visitor Center” and got “Search for Turkey Hampton”.

As soon I managed to stop laughing, I returned to Google and found the place and navigated us there. After inspecting the maps on the walls of the archway to the center that was some 300 meters down a walk path, we decided we had enough info to continue straight to the Kiljamo parking lot and take off hiking there. We still had no clue as to where the cabin was that we intended to stay for the night in, but figured it would reveal itself eventually.

Sticking to that plan, we first climbed the Kiljamo bird watch tower and then headed down the forest trail on to the duckboards and accross the bog. Beautiful colors! A symphony of different shades of red, white, green and yellow. Cotton grass and cranberries were all over the moss, some lingonberries could be found here and there, but cloudberry season is already over. Marsh tea made the air thick, mingling to the other scents of the bog.

We came to the edge of the bog, entering the forest on the far side of the National Park. Half a kilometer of footpaths took us to an old granite mining site. Another half a kilometer and we were out of the forest on a dirt road behind the Park area. We turned right, wondering where we should actually be going and where the h*ck was that cabin we were supposed to find. A few hundred meters later we saw the sign of the “Ilves reitti” – the Lynx path – point us back to the forest.

We followed the path in and out of the forest, on and off of the duckboards. After an especially tough uphill we sat down for a little break, still wondering if we’d even find that cabin at all. We had a tent in the car as a backup plan, so it wasn’t that big of a deal, but it was a matter of curiosity, if nothing else, since we’d read that it was somewhere there!

Just a couple hundred meters after our break we finally stumbled upon that lean two we had been sort of looking for. There were a couple of girls in their early twenties just finishing their picnic, and they pointed us to the cabin, which was just around the bend from the lean two with the fire place. We were going to leave our backpacks there and go back to the bog without them, when we noticed that people were actually driving their cars up the to lean two!

While we were grilling our sausages at the fireplace we decided to go get our car back to the cabin. I hitched a ride from a family who’d pulled up to the lean two right as we were getting settled at the cabin. They took me to Kiljamo, and I drove our car back to the cabin. We locked our stuff into the car, thinking that it would’ve been good if we’d understood to drive the car there in the first place, but we couldn’t know.

We took off the way we’d come, through the forests and back to the bog as the sun was slowly making its way down towards the horizon. The evening was cooling down quite a lot and the scents of the bog were changing as the temperature dipped. Whenever the sun shone through the clouds, the colors of the bog grew even brighter and more intense. An awesome sight toghether with the intriguing smells!

Making sure we were out of the forest before sundown at 20:30, we headed back to the log cabin and lean two and made a fire again in the fire pit. Sitting there by the fire, with the evening getting darker, we were sipping our ciders and talking about what a peculiar thing that bog is. Ancient, and more than ten meters deep. You could easily dispose of a cow there and nobody would ever find it. And who knows what kind of swamp monster lives underneath of all that moss?

As the darkness fell and the air got cool, I pulled my husband’s army poncho liner – a wonderfully warm lightweight blanket – around me and lay down and fell asleep right there on the hard wood floor of the lean two. I was exhausted from the day!

When the fire was out, my man woke me up and we walked the short distance to the cabin, wondering about the absolute quiet of the place. We hadn’t seen or heard any birds all day. There were practically no mosquitoes around. The only living thing we’d seen apart from other hikers & their dogs was a frog when coming back from the bog earlier. We were truly a lone duo in the wilderness (with a road winding right up to the cabin ;D ).

We spread our mattresses and sleeping bags and settled for the night. I fell asleep immediately, but woke up a few hours later, feeling quite claustrophobic, tangled up in my sleeping bag with the hood down to my face, in pitch black darkness. Fighting away the beginnings of a panic attack, I loosened the sleeping bag hood and tried to make myself comfortable (on the hard wood, with minimal softness from the mattress) and against my anticipation, fell back asleep as soon as I was done adjusting the bag.

In the morning I pretty much remembered why I hadn’t been camping in ages. Every part of my body hurt from the uncomfortable sleep on the wooden platform. My man had already ventured out the the early morning and was back from his little walk at 8:30 when I finally decided to open my eyes and sit up. I was sitting there trying to convince myself to get out of the warmth of the sleeping bag – it really had kept me warm – for a good fifteen minutes before finally getting on some day clothes and climbing out of the cabin into the dreary drizzly morning.

In the evening we had planned on doing a full hike around the bog, following the Ilves reitti, but the weather made us think twice and revise our plans. First off, we drove to Forssa in search of a cappucino. A little bit too much to hope, I grant you, in a place like Forssa, at least on a Sunday morning. Nothing was open yet at 9:30. Finally we found a gas station with a little cafe, that was actually open.

So we parked the car next to some other one and stepped inside. A tablefull of local 60+ guys turned their eyes on us. We walked to inspect the coffee situation and decided on hot chocolate over the regular coffee. I felt like a guy ordering milk at a bar, with the eyes of the patrons boring into my back as I pushed the button of the hot chocolate machine. Good thing I had my “you don’t mess around with slim” -man with me 😉

With our hot chocolates, we drove back to Kiljamo, parked the car and hiked to the bog again. First thing I noticed was that it had a different smell again, after the rainy night. We had some drizzle every now and then, but the overall weather wasn’t too bad. But a couple kilometers down the duckboards, when the dark storm clouds were rolling in towards us, we turned around and returned to the car and headed back home.

Our startpoint (Kiljamo) at the P sign, the cabin and lean two in the blue circle
Our startpoint (Kiljamo) at the P sign, the cabin and lean two in the blue circle

 

Commuting

Now that I have been living right by a bus stop and working first near and then in the city center for something like seven or eight months, I have started to feel like a true commuter, taking the same bus to work each morning, taking the same bus back home every day after work. Unless I drive to a customer. Or stay at home, working remotely, which I like to do once or twice a week.

So, anyway, I’m riding that same bus to work almost every morning.

After my morning routines, I pull on my shoes and my jacket and acknowledge my “que bus” – the slower route bus that drives past three minutes before mine comes to the stop – roaming by, nobody usually getting on it, well, because it’s slower and not many people are headed to the suburbs between us and the city center and its outskirts.

I get out of the door, kiss my boyfriend goodbye on the porch where he steps out to have a smoke, and sometimes linger there talking with him while waiting the bus if the other regular commuters happen to be on the bus stop already, so I can be sure there’s somebody signaling the bus to stop.

If I walk to the stop before the bus comes, there’s some slight nods and muttered good mornings, sometimes some pleasantries like “looks like its gonna be a beautiful day” or “this snow really ought to melt already” or “the forecast promised nicer weather for tomorrow”. I mean, who says Finns don’t do small talk?

Okay, I admit that mostly there’s barely that nod. Mostly it’s just an awkward gaze of recognition, like a “aha, you’re here again today too”, right before averting eyes again. Sometimes there’s a true Finnish “don’t come too close, I want my private space!” thing going on, but that usually happens only at odd hours. The commuters are mostly past that, accepting the silent company of each other.

So, mostly. But there’s always some chatter going on. Young adults or late teens who used to go to school together. Neighbors who have been neighbors for decades. And the occasional strange person (me, me!) who simply starts to talk with the other person for no good reason. Just because something worth sharing (at least in my own mind) pops to my head and I need to say it out loud.

In my more extroverted phase in life, that was even quite common. Nowadays I, too, mostly prefer to keep to myself. But I did happen to open my mouth last autumn while standing on the bus stop with this lady who lives somewhere between our stop and the previous one, and we have been changing at least good mornings and maybe some little chatting about nothing special every now and then while traveling to work.

Other than that, I bury my nose in my iPad or phone during the twenty minute bus trip. In the mornings I read tech news from Flipboard and Hesari (the local daily news) with Chrome and Facebook with Safari. In the afternoon, on my way back, it’s my book on Kindle. I used to read news and books on my phone, but then decided that I can just as well use my phone as the internet hub and use the more convenient iPad.

The afternoon bus has a more varied set of people. Quite rarely do I see any of the morning commuters in that bus. But a couple times I have bumped into a friend of mine when I have broken my routine (ahem, there’s a nice bar right across the street from our office…) and taken a different bus home.

I have sort of grown to enjoy the leisurely bus rides, when I can read and leave the driving to others. Except that in the afternoon (even when skipping the bar, like most days 😉 ) the air in the bus is more often than not so stale that I feel nauseous half of the ride home.

This commuting brigs a certain routine to my days, as I need to be sticking to a bus schedule. And that’s not entirely a bad thing, especially considering my tendency to stretch my mornings as late as I possibly can 😉

 

Sweet spring sun

After the long dark and cold winter time, when the rain has melted most of the snow and the sun comes out, warming the world sweetly, the people of these northern hemispheres get out of their little holes and onto their yards, out to the sun, and the world seems to be alive again. After two springs in an appartment building, we have truly been enjoying our own yard with this coming of the sping.

For a while there, I was afraid the snow would never melt, and the temperatures would never rise to tolerable levels again. But of course, I was wrong. Spring comes always. Sometimes earlier, sometimes later, but it comes. It’s not warm enough just yet to have breakfast on the terrace, even though it gets the early sun, partly. But by noon, for the second cup of espresso, the terrace already has warmed sufficiently. Sufficiently to have the backdoon open for several hours, just like all the neighbors have too.

Yesterday we started hauling our summer stuff out of the storage. Those chairs and little garden tables and deck chairs. Half of our terrace was still buried under a huge pile of snow, where all the snow from the drive way had been dumped to all winter long. But there was enough snow-free space there for a couple of those chairs and a table.

The girls scurried out to the yard too to play ball and run around and whatnot. They spotted the water hose and wanted to wash our cars, so that they did! The driveway wasn’t exactly in the sun, and the water was cold, but it didn’t seem to bother the girls. They were having fun! And I was bathing my face in the sun while my boyfriend was potting some herbs there on the yard. Birds were chirping and crocuses were blooming. Perfect!

The one thing we still miss here, is a grill, a barbeque. We both had one in our “previous life”, but none anymore. It’s on our near-future shopping list. We went to the store yesterday and got a bit carried away by the spring, getting some mushrooms and sausages to grill, even though we don’t yet have that grill. We have an old disposable picnic grill, and thought we could just use that one. It wouldn’t burn properly at all, so we ended up cooking the stuff inside. Besides, it was already too cold again to be eating outside anyway.

Today I decided that the mountain of snow simply had to go from our veranda. So I dug in with my shovel and shoveled away like that giant from that story where he says he can move a mountain but he can’t. I guess I don’t have that faith that moves mountains either, so I had to go about it with my shoulder muscles. But I did it! Freed almost the whole veranda. A 40cm deep pile on maybe four square meters. My muscles are sore now!

We also finally got our storage organized, and after that, I was beat! The girls went out to the park to play with the girls next door. They have an amazing amount of energy! They came home screaming hungry, we made some chicken salad, and two of them went back outside. First they planted some dill and chives in our big pots, then they played some football. And whined when at 20:30 I told them it was time to come inside to get ready for bed.

This has truly been a wonderful spring weekend! The first real spring days. With the sun in my face, the girls’ happy voices sounding like music to my ears, I watched my boyfriend – and as of rather recently, my fiancé – potting our thyme, and remembered how he was once playing with words, asking me if I’d be his “partner in thyme” when we were cooking. I can so very easily see him as my partner in time, or thyme 😉 Life is good 🙂

 

What’s on your mind?

The day doesn’t really start well when you wake up with a headache, urgent need to use the toilet and a single thought: “where the h*ll is my car key?” Next thing you discover is that it’s still/again minus-f*cking-twenty outside, in mid-March! Pardon my French. Pardon my morning-crank.

The sun is out, the birds are chirping despite the freezing weather, I’ve had my cappucino and a hot shower. The snow near blinds me when I look out through the window and it’s cold in the house too. There’s good and bad (and ugly) in this day just like in every other day. Facebook asked me what’s on my mind. A lot’s on my mind. I don’t like writing short stories for status updates, so I left the field empty and started this blog entry instead.

So, about that car key? (category: bad)

Starting with that haunting thought. Yesterday my boyfriend discovered my second car key was not where it was supposed to be. Either either one us has misplaced it or the kids have used it (not for driving, obviously) and misplaced it, but pretty much with 100% certainty it’s somewhere in this house. But the question remains: where?

Ah, that headache (category: bad)

It has been my loyal companion for quite some time now. It’s partly due to the dryness of the air and partly to the tightness of my neck/shoulder muscles.

My boyfriend thinks it quite funny when I say I’m allergic to “pakkanen” – freezing temperatures – but truly, I am. It dries mys skin so that I need to apply a bottle of lotion every day and two when I take a shower. It dries my nose so that I sneeze all the time. It dries my head so that I feel mummyfied inside – and that part causes the headache.

As for the neck and shoulder muscles, I should just start dancing again. But, there’s so many buts that everybody’s butt will hurt before I’m through so I’ll just make it short and say that yes, I have excuses more and less valid ones, and it’s me suffering the consequenses. “People want what they want”, Michael Dean from Beautiful Ruins by Jess Walter (an intriguing book, by the way), concluded, so I just nuke my wheat pillow twice a day and make do with that on my shoulders, keeping the house smelling like fresh bread.

Beautiful Ruins (category: good)

A book I finished last night. Jess Walter seems to somehow remake himself in each of his books, but the trademark that remains is telling two stories (at least two) simultaneously. Entangling a contemporary story with that of an old one, a memoire of someone whose life intersects with the contemporary main character of the book. The strands are woven together quite ingeniously into a tapestry.

Another trademark is that usually there is no one person you could especially like in the book. There is something amiss with all of them. But then you come to think that that’s the way it is in real life too. You like peole and yet everyone has their quirks and traits that are annoying. And then again, in this book too, I sort of grew to like Pasquale and Dee, and Claire with her curly red hair reminding me of myself in more ways than just those red curls.

But the book was also exhausting. Exhaustingly intense and written in a language that puts you out of breath. As an introvert person I need peace and quiet, and usually I enjoy reading a book in my peace and quiet. But this book, it exhausted me many times like a crowd of people would. It’s fun for a while but then you need a break.

All in all and anyway, it was an intriguing book, beautifully woven, with the bottom line being like mine: “it’s just life, nothing more, nothing less”.

The spring “fashion” (category: ugly)

I went clothes shopping with my daughters a few weeks ago and my nearly-ten-ager got a pair of neon pink pants from a rack where the selection was neon orange, green, purple, and whatnot. The pink ones for a ten years old are kinda cool even. But I tried to look for something nice for myself too and was faced by pretty much this scene (sorry, in Finnish, but I believe the pictures speak for themselves…), so in the end my wallet was happier than I was.

I mean, even the eighties wasn’t as bad as that! Ah ok, maybe it was. My brain just fed me this image of Bogart co (no, I will NOT litter my blog with the actual picture), forever burned on my retina. Instant pain in the back of my eyes. To think that I used to have that poster on my wall back in the eighties…

My Lumia (category: bad)

The other night I discovered that the screen of my one year old Lumia is almost completely detatched from the frame. So ok, I have dropped the phone a few times, arguing otherwise would be like my dear near-teenager telling me she didn’t visit my closet, while wearing one of my teeshirts (I mean, how stupid do teenagers think their parents are?). So I need to take my Lumia to the Mobile Spa. I hope they give me a nice phone to use while waiting for my own. Our own spear ones are kinda old…

Other random stuff (categories: good; bad; ugly; *shrug*)

Oh, I guess I could ramble on about all sorts of things. Like the sun that has been coming and going today (good) before and after the snowfall (bad), all that snow still covering our world (bad), the Pope (*shrug*), North Korea (bad), all sorts of local and less local news (*shrug*), tabloid headlines (ugly), our new bathroom door (good). Such stuff. Coffee table conversation more than blog material. Sufficient to say, life is, people are and I’m happy to be sitting in my nice home, with my boyfriend (who got a new charger for his MacBook yesterday – good) feeling surprisingly good inspite of the morning and whatever else.

So that’s what’s on my mind today.

nosummer[Oldie but goldie. Seems more accurate every year…]