March 27th, 2015
Way back in January I made an appointment with my tattoo guy to have a couple of new pieces done, and this past Wednesday was finally the day! I’m not feeling particularly wordy at the moment (you may have noticed), so I’ll let the pictures speak for themselves.
On my left forearm, a Paul Simon line, and on my right forearm, a teasel bloom:
March 15th, 2015
Last week I went down to Uppsala on Tuesday afternoon and came home on Friday evening. Because of weird scheduling, I’m due to head back down in just over an hour, less than 48 hours after I got home. I might have stayed over the weekend, but I’d already bought last week’s tickets before Monday’s seminar was on my schedule and besides, that would have had me gone for a week, which is more than I like to do if it’s not strictly necessary. Mercifully, I’m coming back home tomorrow evening, so it’s not as bad as it might be. Of course, I do have to go back on Friday, to come back the following Monday, but after that I’ll be home for ten glorious days.
I suppose it’s just as well that I get a little taste of the craziness now, because April is going to be absolute madness. I’ll have to make the trip every week, once being gone from Sunday to Friday. May, at least for the moment, looks to be more manageable. I’ll still be going every week, but only for a day or two, in most cases. After all of that, I am most definitely going to need a summer vacation.
March 8th, 2015
Long ago, in the summer of my first year in Sweden, my then-new-and-shortly-thereafter-lifelong friend, Leslie, taught me how to crochet. I’d been able since I was a child to crochet a chain, but the ability to do anything more complicated had always eluded me. Somehow, though, Leslie was able to explain things in just the right way to make me understand, and in the months following the two of us spent countless hours crocheting and sharing secrets and cementing that lifelong friendship.
Since those days I’ve nearly always had a project in progress, even if it sometimes takes me months, or even years, to see them through to a finished product. My current “big” project is an afghan for Yrsa. I had meant to make one for each of the kids when they were babies, but I think Tage’s is the only one I completed according to that timetable. I would feel quilty about Yrsa’s getting to be four without her afghan completed, but I started it only in November, after I finally finished Brynja’s, when she was nearly seven.
Alongside the afghan project, I’ve been working on a number of little projects, hats and scarves and whatnot. Lately I’ve turned to making small stuffed owls (pattern here). Initially I planned just to make one or two for myself, but it didn’t take long before the kids started putting in requests. So far I’ve yet to finish one for myself–I have a couple that are nearly done–but I have completed Yrsa’s, Tage’s and Brynja’s. Petra’s is up next, of course, as soon as she’s decided on colors.
These pictures aren’t the greatest, I know, but you get the idea. There’s more than one reason I’m not a craft blogger.
March 2nd, 2015
Here, finally, is a picture of my apartment in Uppsala. I bought and assembled this sofa on Thursday evening, and it’s feeling pretty cozy in there.
February 19th, 2015
Just now I was in the bathroom, hanging up a brand-new, mildew-free shower curtain (!), and Yrsa was rummaging through the clean laundry that awaits folding in the bathtub. After a while she triumphantly drew up a pair of my underwear, which happened to be pink.
“Is this mine?” she asked. (It was the color that made her think so. Believe me, the days of underwear so skimpy they could pass for a four-year-old’s are long behind me.)
“No,” I told her. “It’s mine.”
“Yours? What is it?”
“A pair of underwear.”
“Pink is my favorite color,” she announced, then continued happily, “Thank you for having pink underwear!”
“You’re welcome,” I replied warmly.
If nothing else, I’ve learned that when raising five kids you have to take your appreciation where you can get it.
February 16th, 2015
So I went to Uppsala last Wednesday morning and came home late Friday evening, which meant that Thursday and Friday were my first days to get up and go the office just like any member of the workforce. I have to say that, after nearly twelve years at home with kids full-time, and two years studying, it felt pretty good. It’s kind of silly to say at my age, but I felt so grown up.
As it happens, we brand-new Ph.D. students don’t have a whole lot to do at the moment, so I had plenty of time to drink coffee and chat with my colleagues and decorate my workspace, as well as to have a meeting with one of my supervisors and attend a doctoral seminar. Even though I’ve sometimes felt at loose ends, it’s good to have this time to settle in, because in just a few weeks I’m going to be taking three courses: an introduction to Ph.D. studies, classics of history, and a beginning Latin course. I’ve seen the reading lists, and there’s plenty there to keep me more than busy.
As I mentioned earlier, I also got the key to my Uppsala apartment on Wednesday and so far I’m very much in love with it. I had time to do a bit of decorating there and my mind is awhirl with ideas about how to make it my own space. I confess that I was a little sad to leave after just two days there, but my soon-to-be-increasing workload will mean that I’ll have plenty of time there in the near future. The kids are all eager to come and visit my new home away from home, of course, and I’ve already got tickets for Tage to accompany me the second week of April. I’ll probably take Lydia later in the spring, but the littler girls will have to wait until they’re old enough to occupy themselves while I’m working.
I’d post some pictures of my little sanctuary, but it appears that our server is having some issues and my pictures aren’t showing up just now. As soon as that situation is rectified, however, I’ll be sure to share!
February 8th, 2015
Last week was my first official week of work, though I was in the office only one day. I’m very fortunate that my position allows me to work from home a good deal of the time, and I’m required to be in Uppsala only for seminars, meetings, and classes. This means that some weeks I won’t be away from home at all, while some weeks I’ll be gone as many as three or four days (this seems like a good time to say, yet again, that my husband is an absolute superstar, not only tolerating, but encouraging outright this endeavor of mine).
For the two years of my master’s program, my schedule was much the same and when I stayed over in Uppsala, I took up a couple of my professors–a “couple” as in two, and also a “couple” as in they’re married to one another–on their very generous offer of an overnight room in the cellar of their apartment building. For a symbolic fee, I spent dozens of nights, at least, in that room and, while it was perfectly serviceable, with a separate entrance, a private shower in the room, and a bathroom down the hall, it wasn’t exactly homey. Because I wasn’t the only person who used the room, every time I stayed over I had to bring along bedding, towels, and all of my toiletries, as well as whatever clothing I was going to need.
At the time, it was a godsend for me, saving me literally thousands of dollars over the course of my program and giving me a little something of a home-base when I was in town. Now, however, I’ve got a real job and a real salary and I feel that not only have I imposed enough on my professors’ kindness, but I’ve also outgrown the kind of vagabond life I was leading before, so in December I started looking for an apartment. It can be notoriously difficult to find rental housing in Uppsala (really, in Sweden as a whole, particularly in university towns), and I didn’t have high hopes that I would find anything very quickly. Luck was very much on my side, though, and just a couple of weeks into my search I found the absolutely perfect place. Honestly, I can’t think of any way that it could be better. It’s a small furnished studio, with a separate entrance and its own bathroom, shower, and kitchenette, just five minutes’ walk from my office. The landlord is a professor at the university (though he’s not somebody I knew before I answered the apartment ad; coincidentally, however, I had just started reading a book he wrote), and he’s extremely nice and friendly. I signed a contract the week before last, and I get the keys on Wednesday, the next time I’m in Uppsala.
I’m so excited I can hardly stand it by the prospect of being able to settle in to my own little place when I’m away from home, and I’m practically giddy at the thought of being able to buy full-size bottles of conditioner and lotion and whatnot and just to leave them there when I come home, instead of checking a suitcase on the flight home because my beauty products don’t meet security specifications. When I feel like changing my bedding, I’ll be able just to wash it in the apartment building’s laundry room, rather than lugging it all home and back again. And if all that weren’t enough, I can brew up a pot of coffee whenever I feel like it instead of relying on convenience stores and cafés to fill my caffeine needs. That alone should save me nearly enough to pay my rent.
January 27th, 2015
No, not that kind … seriously, you guys, I am so done having babies. Or rather, the only baby on my horizon is my dissertation, which will surely keep me busy enough without another kid in the mix.
What we do have, however, is a new kitten. Last week I started playing with the idea of getting a cat for Tage, who’s been feeling sort of down lately. When I mentioned it to him, he was all for the idea, so I started scouring the classifieds for a suitable kitty. On Thursday, I wrote to a woman from the local animal rescue and she wrote back almost immediately that they had a 5½-month old black female kitten who was ready to move into a new home. After a couple of back-and-forth messages, the two of us talked on the phone and made arrangements to meet in the parking lot of a supermarket in town the following day for the hand-off.
Friday afternoon the four younger kids and I headed to Skellefteå in the bitter cold and after a quick meeting with the rescue lady, as well as a quick and hectic run through the grocery store, we returned home one cat richer.
Tage was charmed from the start, and the rest of us weren’t far behind. After trying out a couple of different names, he decided that she should be called Audrey, which I agree is a fantastic choice. So far she’s been sleeping in his room and keeping him company, but the last couple of days she’s started venturing out into the rest of the house. The other cats aren’t as thrilled as we humans are, with Gwen displaying a marked skepticism and Prins Bertil exhibiting signs of outright terror. The dogs don’t really much care one way or the other about her, but they are profoundly interested in her food, which I suppose counts for something.
January 21st, 2015
I had my yearly MRI in early December, but in all the hubbub surrounding the holidays and the excitement over my Ph.D. position, I’d all but forgotten about it until I got a letter a couple of weeks ago calling me to an appointment with the neurologist on January 19. I went down to Umeå on that date, this past Monday, and had a little check-up and got the MRI results. As usual, I was a little apprehensive beforehand but, once again, all was well.
Though the doctor told me that he “didn’t completely trust” the reading he had, as it was done by a regular radiology doctor and not an MS expert, he did report that there appeared to be no new MS activity. That makes two years with no progression, and only one new lesion and another that had increased slightly in size in the past five-and-a-half years. Not too shabby, if I do say so myself.
He did say that he’s going to have an MS doctor read the results, just to be sure, but I really don’t expect there to be anything (or if there is, for it not to be much). I know that he’d like me to be on medication, but he knows equally well that I’m not interested at the moment, so we avoided much discussion about that. The whole appointment took less than twenty minutes, which made the two-hours-each-way bus ride feel a bit excessive, but I can hardly complain about not needing to take up more of the doctor’s time.
January 17th, 2015
This last week was a busy one. Monday I took Tage back to orchestra practice after a month’s break, then Tuesday I was in Uppsala all day. Wednesday was Yrsa’s fourth birthday, as well as Olof’s and my twelfth wedding anniversary, and Thursday I was one of the helper parents at Petra’s soccer practice. Yesterday, finally, was pretty low-key with nothing particular on the schedule, and I passed much of the day binge-watching The Affair.
I hadn’t heard of the show until it won the Golden Globe for best drama last week. It’s really good, but in a deeply unsettling way. Yesterday I was feeling strange and uneasy around Olof, almost secretive and guilty, and it wasn’t until late in the evening that I realized that it was this damned show that had burrowed into my psyche. Once I made that connection and reminded myself, Hey, it’s not MY marriage that’s fucked up, everything was fine. But wow, that’s some pretty powerful and insidious stuff. I’m three episodes away from the end, and I can’t finish soon enough, if only to get it out of my head space.