Bunnies! Aww, I love to watch bunnies!

7.10.20237.10.2023 MarilkaLeave a comment

I now have two rabbit tattoos. I once mentioned to my tattoo artist that I’m a rabbit-person, when admiring a little rabbit ornament on her shelf. While she was inking March Hare to my calf, she asked: “So what is it then with you and rabbits?” Yeah, what is it with me and rabbits?

My first tattoo ever, taken in June, 2002

[From 2002-2020 my tattoo count increased bit by bit from 1 to 8. During the past 3 years I’ve gotten 10 more, added a bit to one older one, and in two weeks will have one more inked, last one for now. Yeah, things kinda escalated in the autumn of 2020…]

So, let’s see. Me and rabbits. Those soft and furry long-eared creatures with a quivery nose and big front teeth. Even though I have dogs, terriers, and am very much a terrier person (oh, I’m really just an animal person, I love animals and will bond with any animals I encounter as much as possible), I was a rabbit person first (despite growing up with a terrier) and will be a rabbit person forever.

I think the very initial rabbit fancy started when I learned as a kid that I was born in the Chinese year of the Rabbit. That would supposedly make me gentle and loving, creative, compassionate and sensitive, stubborn and hot-headed. And while I can totally see myself here, I DON’T see all of my same year born peers there So, you know 🤷‍♀️ Still, I was born in the year of the rabbit. In my mind, it made a rabbit, of sorts.

Still, the actual infatuation came via real living bunnies. We got our first rabbit when I was 9 years old, thanks to my sister’s persistancy. I loved her, our “Pupu” (really, our imaginative name for her was simply “Bunny”, in Finnish), she was my dear sweet friend. I took care of her to her quite untimely death; she was sick for the last few months of her less than 3-year-old life. I mourned for years. And I started collecting rabbits. In any and every form. Little ornaments, cards, everyday items with rabbit patterns, you name it. Rabbits became my obsession.

Pupu
(or Vanha Pupu, Old Bunny, as we started to refer to her after getting the next ones)
Pupu was a huge “country rabbit”, “maatiaiskani”, as the farmer we got her from put it. She was a pure white albino, with red eyes and all, as an adult the size of a cat. Looking at the Wikipedia rabbit breed page, I note that she quite resembled the Blanc de Bouscat, but the farmer knew nothing of this. Not that any of us cared. She was our sweet bunny, breeds be damned.

Pupu lived in our kitchen, where she had her cage with food and hay and water, but was allowed to run free; in the night time and while alone at home restricted to the kitchen, in the daytime when there were people at home she had free reign of the entire apartment. In the evenings, she liked to snuggle with me in bed, until my lights out, when mom took her to the kitchen. I would whisper my secrets to her, and take solace in her soft neck fur when feeling agitated, which was often. Neurodivergent (though never even heard the term back then), teased in school, my life was not all happy happy joy joy growing up.

Even though Sis was the one who wanted it and whose wish was granted, it was me who was appointed to cage cleaning duty, and poop collecting duty, and later on poop cleaning duty, when she was sick and her stomach was permanently loose. I was a bit grumbly about this, but 1) I did understand that my 4yo sister was too young, and 2) in the end, I very rarely minded it for real, because she was my best friend.

Pupu came to us as a “small” kit, in quotations because even then she was already the size of a “regular house bunny adult”, if that is a thing; I believe everyone can sort of understand the concept. Maybe. Anyway, as said, she grew up to be huge, and being a female, she also grew a huge bag under her chin, a dewlap. She was an active family member, liked to be where the peeps were, was social and snuggly and most certainly very bonding.

One of Pupu’s favorite activities was to “organize” our dry laundry, which our ND family simply dumped on the sofa from the drier to await the moment when mom either was in the mood to sort them out or (more likely) ordered me to take care of the pile. Either way, the pile of clothes often stayed on the sofa for days, bunny “sorting” it in her leisure, which obviously resulted in all our clothes having little holes from the rabbit teeth. When she died, I revered those holes; they were a long-lasting memory of my bunny.

In February of 1987 mom took me to Japan to visit the family of my best (human) friend; they lived in Tokyo for a year or so at the time. We were away a mere week, or 10 days, but while we were gone, Pupu refused to eat. She missed us, the two family members who were her main caretakers and feeders. This resulted in her getting sick. Dad took her to the vet, but for some odd quirk of luck and life, the vet misweighed her, giving her too small of a dose of the antibiotics.

So, instead of getting better, she developed an ear infection, which caused balance issues, which broke her heels, which got infected and despite everything we/the vet tried during the following months, the infection spread to her organs and we had to put her to sleep. She wasn’t quite 3 years old yet. I cired for years. Seriously. And promised myself never to get animals again, never to get attached again. I’m both glad and sorry not to have kept that promise, but losing my furry babies has never gotten any easier and I dread the moment our dogs start dying..

Pupu, 1984-1987

Some 5 or so years later, when I was 17, my dear sister hit again and smuggled two baby bunnies home from my godmother’s “bunny farm” (she got a mini bunny and a floppy eared bunny and they were supposed to be of the same sex, but oops, they weren’t and next thing she knew, she had 80 bunnies in the barn of her parents’ old manor in the countryside) and I was sold again. My Jeri was a bit of a bull terrier of a rabbit, really, and in no time at all I was fully bonded with him. People often forget or don’t realize it, but dogs really aren’t the only animals with personalities and ability to bond with people. Cats do too. Rabbits do too. Rats do too. And so forth. And me and Jeri, we were bonded.

Unfortunatly Jeri needed to be returned to the farm only two years later when I got married. I couldn’t take him with me (when the marriage was unraveling 14-15 years later, this was quite high on my list of resentments, for I did want to take Jeri; he forbid), and he couldn’t stay with mom and Sara due to him terrorising the house and fighting with Sara’s Jami, even after being neutered. So Jeri went back to live at the bunny farm and my heart was broken. I believe his was too, at first, from what I heard, but fortunately for them, bunnies have a shorter memory than us humans.

Jeri lived quite happily for two more years there on the farm with a bunch of other bunnies, though not 80 or so anymore at that point; closer to 10 or 20 retirees. In the end he died of heartbreak, after his best pal ran off and probably got eaten by a fox. Jeri mourned and stopped eating, withered away, at not quite four years of age.

Jeri and Jami
(Jeri: Jercy, Jercyrotta, Jercyrat, Jerry Cotton, Tamiilikamiina / Jami: Jamsi, Jasmine, James Bond)

Jercy and Jamsi (because that is what we mostly called them, instead of their “official” names – as official as a bunny’s name gets i.e. what read in the vet’s papers) were tiny baby boys when they were smuggled to our home. Small enough to fit on the palm of my hand (one at a time). Jamsi was fully white, Jercy gray as a kit, but turned brown when he grew up. Both were of moderate size, maybe 4kg at most.

I originally wanted to have the white one, Jamsi, for the memory of Vanha Pupu, but Sis was adamant: she looted the bunnies, she gets to choose, the white one is hers. I had been taught to be the older and the wiser so yes, I gave up (my normal strategy with Sis was to first want the thing I didn’t want, so when she wanted it, I could gallantly give it up and actually get what I really wanted, but in this case, my emotions ran hot and took over). In the end, I was happy having Jercy. I would’ve loved Jamsi just the same, but Jercy’s nature matched mine better.

Jamsi grew up timid and calm, probably mostly due to being partly blind. His eyes turned a peculiar violet when he grew up and according to the vet, he was most probably quite bad-sighted, if not blind. What the ailment was exactly, we never knew or I don’t remember, but with it (and maybe just the way he was born), he was the sweetest gentlest little creature, and lived a good full bunny life with my sister.

Jamsi died a few months before Jercy, in the spring when Jercy died in early summer. Sis had to make the tough decision to put her sweet boy to sleep when he fell quite severely ill. The summer before that he was still very much alive though, but gave me a bad scare. Sis and mom were both away for a couple of weeks, so I took care of Jamsi, visiting him on my way to work at Linnanmäki amusement park where I had my summer job. While I was in charge, he got the sniffles, and I needed to take him to the vet, and was scared shitless that he would die in my care! Those sniffles didn’t kill him thoug; instead, to my utter relief, turned out quite harmless.

Jercy, on the other hand, was quite different. He was a fierce alpha male, who started fighting for dominance with Jamsi, as luck would have it, while Sis and I were at my then boyfriend’s family cottage for our autumn break. Up to that point the boys had shared a cage, but after Jercy beat up poor Jamsi quite badly, they were separated: Jamsi to Sis’ room, Jercy to the combo of our small kitchen and my adjacent small bedroom. Needless to say, they never roamed the house free, but were allowed free roam of their respective territories.

Jercy spent the nights in the kitchen because I was a light sleeper even in my teens and Jercy was night-active as bunnies are wont to be. I the daytime, while I was at school, he had both rooms to himself. When Sis came from school, usually before me, she was faced with the task of shooing Jercy to my room, behind a closed door, while she got a snack, for my tiny warrior-bunny attacked Sis (who permanently smelled like Jamsi) as soon as she stepped into the kitchen. Sis came up with all sorts of tactics that included e.g. my tall rubber boots, and usually succeeded in this dangerous quest.

Usually. However, it wasn’t an unusual occurence either, that Sis would call our mom at work: “Mom, come save me! I’m in the living room, held hostage by Jeri!”. If Jercy managed to slip out of the kitchen, Sis ran to the living room and closed the door behind her, after snatching the phone with her; the phone table was right next to the living room door, on the other side, though.

And my rubber boots, then. I still have the same pair of the tall Kontio-boots I had back then (since I was 14yo; back then Nokia still made proper quality rubber boots). Those boots of mine are the last remaining physical memory I have of Jercy. All the hoodies and tees he chewed have long been disposed of, but my rubber boots will probably last until I die. And bear the mark of Jercy: he once managed to bite through them, so I patched them with my bicycle patch kit and while I never would’ve guessed, that patch-work still holds as strong as ever, just like the boots.

With me, Jercy was a loving and devoted baby boy, much like Ace-mah-bully-boy is now. When I came home from school, he hopped happily around my ankles, nearly tripping me many-a-day. If I was away for the evening, I could be sure to find a protest pee in my bed (despite my best attempts at building walls to prevent this; he always found a way to get over them).

If I spent multiple evenings in a row with my friends, away doing whatever, third or fourth evening at the latest, I would find Jercy hiding under my desk drawers, refusing to come out no matter what. This always broke my heart, so I was constantly torn between having my “own life” and spending time at home with my baby-bunny. Needless to say, Jercy always came around and forgave me. Next day it was all forgotten and my lettuce offering gone from the floor, munched away in the dark of the night.

The only time I ever got hit by my “killer-rabbit” (as my classmates dubbed Jercy after the incident) myself, was this one time I was sitting on our sofa next to mom, Jercy calmly in my arms, and Sis had the audacity to approach! She came to tell us something, I guess, stepping one step too close for Jercy’s liking. Jeri went nuts, struggled to get out of my arms, but I held on tight. So he bit the closest thing he could, which just so happened to be my cheek. Unlike the bite scars I have on my hands from both Meggie and Timmy (quite similar situations of confusion and fight-whatever-comes-close), Jercy’s bite didn’t leave a mark on my cheek. Goes without saying, I would’ve carried the scar proudly.

Jercy, 1992-1996 / Jamsi 1992-1996

Jeri & Jami on a piano stool the day they came

So, my career with bunnies ended with this second heartbreak of taking Jercy back to the barn where he was born (though to be honest, I had another heartbreak and mourning time when I learned of his death, despite the distance and not having seen him for a long time).

Nonetheless, or maybe even more so because, I still collect rabbits. I don’t have my card collection anymore, nor do I have all of the little proceline etc. rabbits that I used to have, but rabbits are all around our house and I stil try to find a new rabbit item from each trip, as my own little souvenir. I have bunny mugs, bunny plates, bunny figurines (of all sorts of materials), bunny lamps, bunny hooks, bunny pictures on the walls, bunny “statues”, bunny soft toys… you name it. Kids always laughed when their friends came to visit and were like: “Hmm, your mom seems to like rabbits”. Yeah, no kiddin’, right

Be it due to Chinese horoscope (krhm, not) or those two way too brief times of having a bunny in my life, I have always identified with rabbits in general. They’re quirky, bouncy (ah, ADHD), loving, intelligent, alert, even fierce. Rabbits are my totem animal. Or one of them anyway, the initial one. That’s why my artowrk page is Artzy Bunny. That’s why I paint and draw rabbits so much, always have. That’s why my first tattoo was a rabbit and my “We’re all mad here” tattoo is March Hare, not Chesire Cat. I am rabbit.

So, that’s the deal with me and rabbits.

P.S. The title of this post is a Snoopy quote. Back when I was a teen I had this desktop cover mat of solid color (boring!), so I decorated it with all sorts of pics and whatnots. One of the things there (the only one I remember, actually), was this comic strip cut from a daily paper, where Snoopy had gone missing and Chuck finally found him at the mall, looking at bunnies through the window of a pet shop. Snoopy had the bubble explaining his absence: “Pupuja! Ooh, minusta on ihanaa katsella pupuja!” – “Bunnies! Aww, I love to watch bunnies!”. I have tried and failed, multiple times over the years, to find this strip on the Internet. Not found. Total Internet fail.

My body, my positive

1.10.20231.10.2023 Marilka1 Comment

I have no before and after pics. Or rather, I have no real before pic, because I shied away from the camera – except for face only selfies or photos where I’m bundled up in winter gear like an eskimo – for the most part when I was overweight. A couple of on-the-way pics are available, but for the before pic, the one from September of 2020 will have to do (I don’t know exactly, but I think last autumn I even had 6-8kg more than in the autumn of 2020). So here, before – getting there – there (or so, for I’d still like to go down 1 more kilo, but it’s a very inconsequential kilo, really, just the last bit of flab to be rid of).

I have now ~~lost~~ gotten rid of thirty-fucking-five kilos in these past 10 months. 35kg. That’s damn near 80lbs (77,2) for you non-metric peeps on the other side of the Atlantic. And I feel good. My overall health is good. My liver values are not hovering on the border anymore, my energy levels are back to my “normal”, I feel like myself again. Sure, there’s a bunch of mental shit bundled into the equation of me, too, but getting some of that resolved was the key to getting my body back in shape too.

I’m all for body positivity. I mean, the most important thing is to be able accept yourself, to embrace your body as yours and be healthy. Needless to say, while I maintained my style (though changing things to hide the fat as well as possible), I was not positive about my obese torso, nor will I ever be, or even aspire to be, My body, my positivity. I decide when and in what shape my body is good. Isn’t that what body positivity is all about?

Sometimes it feels like it means that you shouldn’t strive to do anything about your body because you’re good as you are. But it’s not always true! However, it IS up to each person to decide. To love yourself, to love your body, is to want what’s best for it. And for me, it’s keeping my weight and my size here where I am again. Where I was for a decade, until shit hit the fan in our lives and stuff got out of hand, and for some years, I lacked the mental capacity to do anything about my weight gain. All I could do was to accept that it was happening and mourn the slim me until it was time to turn around again.

I was never a skinny kid, nor a skinny teen, nor will I ever be a skinny adult. I wasn’t overweight either, just average, with natural muscle. But when you’re not a skinny kid/teen, you’re automatically fat. Because kids are idiots. Some of them grow out of it, some don’t. So anyway, I was called fat my entire school life. I guess it was the easiest hate-word those idiots around me could come up with, for a bit strange neurodivergent not-skinny kid in their midst.

So I started to think myself fat. And became ashamed of my perfectly normal size body. At twelve, I stopped eating pasta and pancakes and white bread to lose some weight. Interestingly intuitive for a 12yo, since (fast) carbs are my worst enemy, as I came to understand as an adult. I did lose some, but not a whole lot. Not that I needed to, and I guess I had sense enough to understand that I never would be skinny like the others and didn’t need to be.

It is true, that I gain weight super-easy – I call my genes the survivor genes, because my body tries to hold on to every calory I eat. Those damned carbs are the bane of my existance, because they pretty much suffocate my ability to understand when I’m hungry, or when I’ve had enough, and so I just keep on eating too much to feel full and my portions get bigger and bigger and my sugar addiction ramps up and… It just slips. Thus, it’s better for me to keep away from medium to high glycemic index foods, which is what I really mean when I say carbs.

Just a few links for you, to understand what I’m talking about:

What Is the Glycaemic Index (GI)?
Glycemic Index Chart for Common Foods
In Finnish: Hyvinvointia ruuasta eli mitä syö ihminen joka ei syö perunaa, pastaa, puuroa…

For weightloss, there’s multiple factors and it’s not so simple – medications and medical conditions included – nor is there one way that suits all. To me, it’s always been more intuition than science; I found the science behind my “system” only after I was already there.

My weight-loss system put simply: I don’t eat carbs (see above), my daily intake of calories is less than I use (I have never really counted calories, so it’s purely instinct), and I only eat once or twice a day. Because in the end, I’m really not even hungry more often than that. I don’t really force anything – though the beginning is a rather slow and decisive process to ramp down from the carbs and overeating – I simply guide myself to what I know is healthy for me, and then start listening to my body again when the carbs aren’t there to lie to me anymore. And the thing is, when I get those carbs out of my system, I really don’t crave them anymore. In fact, they don’t taste good to me anymore, even.

Upkeep? More of the same except I eat a bit more. Still not more than I need in general, but obviously not less either. Carby stuff can be eaten sometimes, just not on a regular basis. Though, that’s the case even now. I have no forbidden foods, I eat what I want. It’s just that I’ve molded my want to what my body wants in order to stay healthy. If it makes sense. Point being that weight loss or weight upkeep has never been a struggle for me. Not when I’ve been ready for it. When I wasn’t, it didn’t happen. And as much as I’d like to swear that I won’t ever gain weight again, there’s no guarantee.

Getting back to being happy with one’s body. I can easily promise I will never be happy being overweight. To me it represents the slippery slope to major obesity, to health issues that are just incredulous, to something I can never let myself slide into. So even when I do gain some, even a lot, there will always come the point of turning back before I’m too far gone. I watched my mom eat herself to death, even though in the end that’s not what she died of. To me, obesity is the ultimate form of unhappiness with one’s self and there is nothing positive – body or otherwise – to me about it.

So what’s my point? Be happy in your body. If you’re not, do something about it. If you can’t do without help, ask for it, be it medical or some other form of help. What works for me, may or may not work for you, we are all different. I’m lucky that my husband is actually similar in this weight loss/control as me (as well as tastes in food), which makes it easy for us to help each other, while also easy for us to slip and slide together.

Top: September 2022. Bottom: September 2023

As an end note of sorts. The one cool thing about this getting back to slim after years of weight gain is that I (well, we, both of us really) got to renew my wardrobe practically entirely. Maybe 10% (not counting shoes) of my current wardrobe is old – some dresses even from my former slim years – but everything else is new. Expensive? Sure. Rewarding? Oh, hell yeah 😂 I’m loving it! I love to be back to the size I, in my mind, should be and feel best in.

Summer as it’s supposed to be

31.7.202331.7.2023 MarilkaLeave a comment

Which really has not been the case much this summer. We had a nice little heatwave in June, but the entire July has been a jacket-July. Cloudy, rainy, windy, cold. I’ve never worn jeans in the summer as much as this July. Nor have a worn my summer dresses as little as this July.

So the moments of summer as it’s supposed to be are gems to be beheld. Like yesterday. It wasn’t really hot or anything, but a gentle 23-25C, with the sun out and only some wisps of clouds in the sky. I donned my long light semi-sleeve dress with an open back and slipped my feet into some sandals, and left my jackets home, as we packed ourselves into the car for a little roadtrip.

As usual, our roadtrip took us west along the coastline. It could’ve been a day for Hanko or Tammisaari, even, but we had other plans for the late afternoon and evening. So we drove down to Inkoo. An ant’s spit of a place in size, it has a church, an S-market (grocery store) pharmacy, a couple of artisan shops 💜that were surprisingly closed yesterday, a museum house area, and a nice harbor with some restaurants and a dog-friendly coffee shop.

For reasons (of limited daylight, mostly) we have twice visited Inkoo in late autumn/early winter. Wanting to go somewhere, but not enough daylight to go too far. This was our first visit during the summer, when there’s actually some life in the town, thanks to all the boats venturing into the pictureque harbor.

With the sun high in the sky we parked next to the Café Wilhelmsdahl and selected a table with half shade, half sun – shade for H, sun for me. Cappucinos for us, water for the dogs, and a lunch of smoked salmon pie and carrot cake. Oh, right, doggos didn’t get any of the pie and cake, but they did get some meaty stick snacks.

I love the atmosphere, the ambiance, of Café Wilhemsdahl be it winter or summer, whether we sit inside or out on the terrace. There is something serene and warm about it. The personnel is friendly and kind, they like the furry four-legged visitors instead of merely tolerating them, the coffee is good, same with everything I’ve ever eaten there. It’s cosy and homey. The café alone is worth the visit, in my opinion!

Once we’d finished our lunch, we took a walk around the harbor. How different it is in the summer when boats are docked, others come and go, there’s people milling about, instead of ice and snow! The only disappointment was the closed artisan shops, well at least the Kiurunpesä curiosity shop next to Wilhelmsdahl was closed. So we just hopped back in our car and drove home.

Sun was still high and the sky still blue as we got home around three. H went to prepare the grill while I prepared a couple of chickens for the rotisserie before changing into some bikinis and settling into my terrace chair to read in the sun.

I had a good hour or so of direct sun left in my hanging egg chair before the sun disappeared behind some tall trees at the edge of our yard. Even then, the air didn’t turn cold, so I was comfortable in my chair as H tended to the grill with the chickens roasting on their skewer. “This is what summer is supposed to be like”, I noted to H.

Finally, when the chickens were done, I pulled on a short mid-sleeve dress over my bikinis and helped with the doors as H brought the grilled goodness inside. The chickens were crispy and emanating such a delicious smell that I literally started salivating and decided to leave the chair covering to a later point in time, when my belly is full of chicken.

Needless to say, I suppose, that I forgot the chair. We ate. We took dogs out. I read some more in the library. We took the dogs out again and retired to the bedroom. I read some more, until I fell asleep. So then, this morning, everything was soaked. Of all the times to forget to cover the chair, I obviously selected the time when it then proceeded to rain cats and dogs all night long or something.

Not that it matters too much that the chair pillows are wet (and drying on the heated floor in the bathroom). It’s not like today would be a day to sit outside reading anyway. It’s not raining anymore, but it’s cloudy with all of 18 degrees C. It’s back to jacket-July, for one more day anyway. Then it’s jacket-August.

While the rest of the world roasts, we here have had a cold airmass all summer long. We’re so close to the North Pole, that while the hot air has been enmassing elsewhere, it’s pulled the cold on top of us from the North. Or something. This summer makes me sing. “I was cheated by you, and I think you know when!” And yet, “just one look and I forget everything!” when the sun is out for one day.

Despite the weather, however, the summer’s been quite good. Good times with family, little sailing cruises of Schooner Kathrina in Helsinki archipelago, birthday parties, reading and resting and taking it easy. My vacation is half done, half to go still. The weather I cannot influence, but everything else in my summer I can 🌞

More photos of this summer in Flickr

Remppa juttu

21.4.202322.4.2023 MarilkaLeave a comment

Aamulla oli voimakas tarve lähteä vähän pakoon, Siinä hieroskellessani unihiekkoja silmistäni kahvimuki kourassa, pohdiskelin, että tuumaisin TGIF, jos en tietäisi koko viikonlopun olevan täynnä ihmisiä ja toimintaa ihan täällä omassa kodissani. Normaalin perjantaiväsymyksen lisäksi päällä on remppaväsymys.

Istuskelen studiossani (kotitoimistoni), tyhjä McDonaldsin diet coke (miksi ne laittaa sokeritonta vaikkei sitä pyydä?) -muki pöydän kulmalla, koirat sohvalla päikkärikoomassa. Lattialla on jotain sähköremppaan liittyvää sälää pusseissa ja laatikoissa; siirsin ne eilen illalla siihen sängyltäni, jotta pääsin nukkumaan. Tässä olen istua kyhjöttänyt vartin yli kahdeksasta saakka, lounaankin sain tuotuna tähän pöydälle. Ei siinä sinänsä mitään, niin minä istuisin muutenkin, koska työ. Nyt vietän lounastaukoani, (klo 13:16); itse lounaan söin yhden statuspalaverin aikana jo pari tuntia sitten.

Niin, meillä on siis tänään täällä sähkäri, kuudetta päivää putkeen vissiinkin, ja neljän hengen siivousryhmä aloittamassa koko viikonlopun urakkaansa. Rehellisesti sanoen olen tyytyväinen olooni täällä luolassani koirien kanssa. Kävin tuossa teetä keittämässä ja talo täynnä väkeä ja kaikki hujan hajan hieman ahdisti. Tai hieman enemmän.

Sähkäri saa toivon mukaan urakkansa jo loppuun tänään, sitten on vihdoin koko huushollin sähköt uusittu ja kunnossa. Sähköremppa vol 2. Eikun 3. Ensimmäinen hoiteli vain keittiön sähköt, toinen melkein koko loppulukaalin, tämä kolmas nyt viimeistelee sitten loput työt ja poistaa väliaikaiset ratkaisut. Minä en tällä hetkellä osaa edes hallita puolia meidän valaistuksista uusien kytkimien ja kytkentöjen ja Shelly-kontrollereiden vuoksi, mutta ehkä se tästä, viimeistään kun puoliso saa ne laitettua Applen Home:een. Mutta ovikello soi nyt kännykkäsovelluksessani.

Tänään ei sen sijaan ole remppamies tekemässä hommia, toisin kuin lähes joka päivä viimeisten 10 viikon aikana. Siksi meillä on nyt tuo siivousryhmä: remppa vol N alkaa olla lopuillaan (muutama pikkuhomma vielä ensi viikolla, ja vähän puuseppätöitä sen jälkeen, mittatilattua kaappia ja työpöytiä), joten on aika tehdä täällä vaihteeksi kunnon remppasiivous. Betonipölyt pois ja silleen, ennen kuin alkaa ikkunremppa (à la taloyhtiö), ja remppa vol Next (kesällä).

Niin jotta, mitä täällä sitten on tapahtunut näiden viime viikkojen aikana?

Sauna

Aloitetaan siitä. Nimittäin viime kesänähän meillä tehtiin massiivinen kylpyhuoneremppa. Se vähän niinkuin eskaloitui pintarempasta revitään-kaikki-pois-ja-rakennetaan-uusiksi -rempaksi about siinä vaiheessa kun vanhojen laattojen ja laastin purun myötä seinät alkoivat murentua. Siinä sitten purettiin seinä jos toinen, kunnes koko kylppärissä ei ollut ainuttakaan seinää jäljällä, ei edes kylppärin ja työhuoneeni välissä. Ei minulla ennen ollut yhteistä seinää kylppärin kanssa, mutta päätettiin siinä sitten samalla poistaa tarpeeton varastohuone välistä ja suurentaa sekä kylppäriä että työhuonettani.

Nyt meillä on upea koti-spa, joskin näihin viime viikkoihin saakka muutama “pieni” juttu sen ympäriltä on ollut vähän kesken. Kuten sauna.

Sauna ei suinkaan ollut ensimmäine asia, joka tässä remppapläjäyksessä thetiin, mutta tärkeä! Ja tällä viikolla sähkäri on laittanut sinne sähköt, joten kunhan joskus saadaan vielä lasiseinä ja -ovi siihen, pääsee ihailun sijasta ihan löylyihinkin. Niitä lasiovia ja -seiniä puuttuu täältä vähän muualtakin: suihkutilasta, kylppärin oviaukosta, ja yläkerran pikkuvessan oviaukosta. Niitä pitäisi tilailla. Mieluiten pian.

Studio eli työhuoneeni

Tähän työnhuoneeseeni tehtiin remppa vol 1 muutama kuukausi poikani muutettua omaan kotiinsa syksyllä 2019. Tai siis remppa tehtiin keväällä 2020. Tapetit revittiin, seinät maalattiin, lattiaan laitettiin parketti ja listat. Ihan pro työ se ei ollut ja muutama pieni juttu kuten ikkunalauta jäi silloin keskenkin. Sitten viime kesänä huone sai tosiaan uuden seinän, joka odotti panelointia (ja lattiapala parkettia).

Kun remppamies yhdessä puolison kanssa sitten alkoi suunnitella tämän huoneen töitä, suunnitelmat jälleen hieman paisuivat. Miehet purkivat vähän lisää seinää, mistä tuli itse asiassa vielä pikkuisen lisää tilaa huoneeseen, ja sitten seinä paneloitiin, parkettia lisättiin ja vähän vanhaa työtä paikattiin, ja laitettiin uudet lattialistat, joiden sisällä sähköt kulkee siististi (eli itse asiassa tässä huoneessa tehtiin myös sähköremppa vol 2). Yksi seinäluiska on kivilaattaa, ja ikkunalauta on siististi laatoitettu. Samalla tänne tehtiin osin laskettu katto, jossa on led-spottivalot ja koneellinen ilmanpoisto (korvausilma tulee ulkoa, en minä vakuumissa ole).

Uuden tilan (ja kaapin) innoittamana järjestelin huonetta vähän uusiksi ja tästä tuli oikein valoista ja tilava työhuone. Enää puuttuu mittatilaustyönä tehty kulmatyöpöytä, mutta sekin on prosessissa.

Siinä nyt poistuneessa varastohuoneessa (se oli joskus vaatehuone isovanhempieni aikaan ja alkuun meilläkin, sittemmin se toimi varastona) oli talon sähkökeskus, joten ihan kokonaan sitä ei voinut poistaa kuitenkaan. Tilalle jätettiin pieni “tekninen huone”, tai pikemminkin tekninen komero, jossa on sähköpääkeskus (yläkerrassa on alikeskus) ja nettikamat. Siis modeemi ja switch ja liuta lan-rasioita, joiden kautta piuhat menee ympäri taloa. Minulla on langallinen netti työhuoneessani, muuten piuhat lähinnä kulkevat noihin wifi-tukiasemiin ja ovikelloon. Kaappi toimii jatkossa myös (tuolta kaapin takaa kurkistavan) imurin kotipesänä.

Lasketut katot

Laskettuja kattoja on paitsi kylppärissä ja työhuoneessani, myös alakerran aulassa. Johdot ja putket kulkee nätisti siellä (ja uusien seinien ja lattialistojen sisällä) niin että ainakaan ihan kaikkialla ei enää ole sitä rumaa pinta-asennusta niille. Niihin on kaikkiin upotettu himmennettäviä led-valoja.

No se yläkerran pikkuvessa

Joka ei vieläkään ole vessa ensinkään. Tai siis oli toki viime elokuuhun saakka. Nyt siellä on sentään taas valmius, kun siellä on pintaremppa tehty ja ovenkarmit kunnossa, mutta jos ja kun sinnekin haluamme seinävessan, tarvitaan vähän lisää työtä ennen kuin se ja lavuaari ovat paikallaan ja toiminnassa.

Listoja, ovenkarmeja ja kynnyksiä

Silloin kylppärirempan loppuvaiheilla, kun kylpyamme tuotiin sisään, piti irrottaa yksi ovenkarmi, että amme mahtuu. Se(kään) ei ollutkaan ihan helppo operaatio, joten lopulta miehet leikkasivat siitä vain palan pois. Ovea ei puoleen vuoteen saanut lukkoon. Ei tosin saa vieläkään, sillä nyt siinä ei ole ovea ollenkaan (vaan suihkuverho, odottamassa lasiovea). Uusi karmi siinä sentään on!

Samalla sitten uusittiin kylppärin ovea ympäröivät listat – lattia- ja ovilistat – sillä muuten se näytti hölmöltä: ainoa tammikarmi kun kaikki muut oli valkoisia.

Yläkerrassa keittiöstä puuttui kynnys, sellaisen remppamies teki. Ja sitten siinä eteisessä kävi vähän samoin kuin ala-aulassa: WC:n karmit ovat tammea, joten keittiön oven listat uusitaan sitten tammisiksi myös. Se on vielä vähän kesken.

Niin joo, ja uusittiinhan me tuo aulan lattia alkuvuodesta itse

Takaisin tähän hetkeen

Koirat alkavat mennä pitkin seiniä täällä. Alkaa olla aika lähteä niiden kanssa ulos. Mies on vielä ties missä kaupoissa hakemassa puuttuvia siivoustarvikkeita sun muuta, siivoojat ovat poistuneet, samoin sähkäri. Olen siis ihan keskenäni kodissa, joka ainakin osittain on jo putipuhdas. Makkari on vissiin siivottu, kun siellä on lakanatkin vaihdettu. Keittiössä oli vielä ainakin jokin aika sitten kaaos, mutta kaikki oli pesty. Huomenna tämä ralli jatkuu, mutta tänään voisi vaikka mennä kylpyyn.

Portaikon eilen asennettu uusi valaisin (jonka kaukosäädintä en saanut yhdistettyä). Ja siivoustarvikkeita…

Koiraa on karvoihin katsominen

27.2.2023 MarilkaLeave a comment

Latu ylittää kävelytien. Isä ja nuori lapsi, jota isä selvästi opettaa hiihtämään, lähestyvät ylitystä samaan aikaan kun minä kahden koirani kanssa lähestyn kohtaa. Hiihtäjät pysähtyvät keskelle kävelytietä, tuijottelevat kaukaisuuteen. Pysähdyn koirineni muutaman metrin päähän – he pelkäävät sauvoja. Isä huomaa meidät ja ottaa suksillaan askeleen, kaksi kohti reunaa, latua, sukset vielä reippaasti yli kävelytien puolenvälin. Lapsi huomaa meidät ja hiihtää siihen isänsä viereen.
Huokaisen ja otan koirien hihnat tiukalle, ohitan hiihtäjät toista reunaa hipoen, miettien miksei isä opeta lapselleen, ettei siihen keskelle sovi jäädä kävelytietä tukkimaan. Ainiin, kun ei isä ymmärtänyt sitä itsekään.
Muistetaan huomioida muutkin liikkujat, vaikka olisikin sukset jalassa!

Kirjoitin näin Facebookin kaupunginosaryhmään ja ihan odotetusti sain niskaani kommenttiryöpyn alkaen siitä, että olisi pitänyt avata oma suuni päättyen siihen, ettei olisi ainakaan Facebookkiin kaiken kansan nähtäväksi pitänyt tällaista mennä kirjoittamaan. Ilmeisesti on liikaa odottaa, että kanssakulkijat tuolla ymmärtäisivät olla tukkimatta kulkureittejä, pysähtelemättä haaveilemaan keskelle risteyksiä.

Ai miksen sanonut mitään? No kas kun sellainen pieni juttu kuin sosiaalinen ahdistuneisuus/sosiaalisten tilanteiden pelko piti suuni kiinni (kyllä, minulla on siitä ihan diagnoosi, vaikkei sitä aina huomaakaan, sillä työrooli peittää sen alleen).

Oli kuka oli väärässä oikeassa teki hölmösti ei tehnyt hölmösti, ei sillä tässä kohdin väliä. Eräs kommentinkommentti siellä kirvoitti mieleni miettimään tätä ja monta muutakin tilannetta. “Mutta kun ne koirat pelkää sauvoja!!!” Niin, niin pelkää. Mutta tietääköhön kommentoija ollenkaan, mitä se tarkoittaa, että koira pelkää? Se tarkoittaa sitä, että se saattaa käyttäytyä agressiivisesti ja jos ohitan hiihtäjät siitä heidän suksiensa päältä, on todennäköistä, että toinen tai molemmat alkavat räkyttää tai murista ja jopa hihnoissaa syöksähdellä kohti hiihtäjiä. Ja sitten saan kuulla, että minulla on agressiiviset huonosti käyttäytyvät koirat. Juu, välillä ne ovat, erinäisistä syistä.

Jäin tätä pohtimaan ja sitä, miten paljon puhutaan nykyään koirien inhimillistämisestä. Siis siitä, että koirille annetaan ihmisten piirteitä, tunteita, jne. ja unohdetaan, että ne ovat eläimiä. Omasta kokemuksestani käsin väitän, että kovin harva koiranomistaja (niitä Fluffien omistajia lukuunottamatta) näin tekee. Se, että koira on perheenjäsen, karvavauva, jonka tunnetiloja ja käytöstä omistajat – koiravanhemmat – tulkitsevat ehkä vähän ihmismäisesti, mutta koiransa tuntien, ei vielä tee inhimillistämisestä vahingollista. Harva “koiravanhempi”, ainakaan vastuullinen sellainen, silti unohtaa koiransa olevan eläin, jolla on eläimen vaistot. Päinvastoin. Siksi koiria koulutetaan. Siksi ne kulkevat kontrolloituina.

Valtaosa huomautuksista, jotka suustani tuolla ulkona kulkiessani saan (ja nekin hetket kun EN saa), ei ole tarkoitettu suojelemaan koirieni tunteita vaan suojelemaan koiriani itseltään, ihmisiä koiriltani. Kun kehotan lasta olemaan heilumatta keppinsä kanssa koiran läheisyydessä, kun kehotan meidät takaa päin koiraa hipoen ohittanutta olemaan tekemättä niin toiste, kun pyydän hiihtäjiä siirtymään sivuun kävelytien keskeltä (tai toivon heidän itse ymmärtävän antaa tilaa), kun odotan että äidillä on lapsi hallinnassa ennen kuin ohitamme, kun pyydän Fluffyn omistajaa ohittamaan meidät, jotta mekin voimme jatkaa matkaa, se on kaikki riskien hallintaa.

Kokemukseni mukaan pahimpia koirien inhimillistäjiä ovat ne, joilla ei koiraa olekaan. Oletetaan, että koska koira elää ihmisen kanssase myös käyttäytyy kuin ihminen. Väistää nätisti tien sivuun, ei säikähdä syöksähtävää lasta, ymmärtää sellaisia asioita kuin mekastavat lapset tai heiluvat sauvat tai ihoa hipovat takaa tulevat ohittajat. Vielä pahempia ovat koirien esineellistäjät, jotka olettavat, että koiraa voi lähestyä miten vaan, koska “sehän on vaan koira”.

Aikoinaan ollessani lukioikäinen, meillä oli kaksi kania. Minun Jeri ja siskoni Jami, suunnilleen samanikäisiä poikia kumpainenkin. Ensimmäiset kuukaudet sujuivat hyvin, mutta sitten ne alkoivat tapella. Jeri oli noista kahdesta vahvempi ja terveempi, ja olisi varmaan Jamin tappanut, jos olisi saanut tilaisuuden. Kanit erotettiin. Erään kerran Jeri, joka kanssani oli ihan sylivauva, oli sylissäni, kun siskoni tuli vähän liian lähelle. Jeri yritti hyökätä, mutta onnistuikin vain tarttumaan minua poskesta. Toisen kerran sisko yritti usuttaa Jeriä huoneeseeni, jotta pääsi itse keittiöön tekemään välipalaa. Jeri puri siskon jalassa olleeseen kumisaappaaseen reiän.

Eläimet – niin koirat, kissat, kanit kuin muutkin – ovat eläimiä eläinten vaistoin. Koulutettukin koira voi purra pelästyessään tai kipua kokiessaan; eläinlääkäritkin tarjoavat kuonokoppaa, jos pitää tehdä koiralle toimenpide tämän ollessa hereillä. Ihmisten ei koskaan pidä olettaa, että koira EI voisi purra. Omistajalla on vastuu pitää koiran ympäristö sellaisena, että kimmokkeita ei tule tai ne ainakin minimoidaan, ja koira on kontrollissa. Omistajalla on vastuu suojella koiraansa ihmisiten ajattelemattomuudelta ja ihmisiä koiran vaistoon pohjautuvalta käytökseltä.

Välillä tuntuu vaan olevan liikaa vaadittu, että muut ihmiset tekisivät oman osuutensa ja esimerkiksi huolehtisivat siitä, että heidät pääsee ohittamaan, vaikka he jossain seisoskelisivatkin. Tietenkin sama koskee myös koirien kanssa kulkevia. Ainiin, ja pyäräilijät voisivat hiljentää vauhtiaan ja muistaa soittaa sitä kelloa riittävän ajoissa sen sijaan että yrittävät viuhahtaa ohi tai jarrutavat selän takana. Meinaan vaan, että koirat pitää saada kunnolla sivuun ja hallintaan – sillä vain hetki sitten ei missään ollut ketään, joten hihnat saattavat olla löysemmällä, mikä aiheuttaa taas yhden vaaratilanteen.

Niin sitä minä vaan, että kun sanon koireini pelkäävän sauvoja, en inhimillistä koiraani. Sen sijaan se, joka vähättelee tuota lauselmaa, tekee niin ajatellessaan sen olevan sama kuin että pieni lapsi pelkää sauvoja. Ei se siis kovin vakavaa voi olla, koiran omistaja siinä taas lässyttää, voi hellantuuteli sentään.

Sitä minä vaan, jotta jos me kaikki vaivauduttaisiin vähän enemmän katsomaan asioita myös muiden silmin, olisi kaikkien helpompi kulkea. Kun näet minun vetävän koirani hihnan tiukalle, älä anna omasi lähestyä. Minäkin osaltani huolehdin siitä, että sinulla on riittävästi tilaa ohittaa ja toivon samaa sinulta, oli sinulla koiria mukanasi tai ei.