Monday, May 31, 2021

thank you, darling buds of may, and welcome pretty june


May and early June is certainly the prettiest time of the year in Sweden. And May 2021 and nature did not disappoint in that aspect. It has been a beautiful lush time.

And an emotional rollercoaster. I’m exhausted. Despite all this green beauty I’m exhausted from stress, worry and disappointment. That can be true alongside the appreciation of beauty and pretty little moments.

I’m not sure where to begin, and as usual I struggle to keep things short, but let’s try that.

I was involved in a quite exciting job process, early this month, for a position that (on paper) looked pretty perfect. First interview went great, second interview not so much. It was just awkward and the quality of the digital interview (connection) was poor. I found the questions weird and irrelevant. Or maybe I wasn’t hip enough. Who knows, didn’t get it and my motto is onwards and upwards, I can’t spend time dwelling on setbacks like that. But disappointing outcome nevertheless.

The way I lost Pelle has also haunted me all month. It was so unnecessary and heartbreaking. As sweet as the six ladies left are, he was a very important piece of my kitty family puzzle. And I’m devastated we didn’t get to say a proper goodbye. Still a dark cloud above my head.

The Covid19 vaccination roll out in Sweden suddenly went quicker than expected. And I was in the age group that could book an appointment a couple of weeks ago in Stockholm. Yay! However, as it turned out, the places where you could get the shots are few and far apart, many of us without a car need to travel by public transport. Something which we’ve been deterred from doing all year. And masks aren’t mandatory.

When I asked the health center, where I’m listed, when they expect to start vaccinate us in Phase 4 who are not in a risk group I was very rudely met and told they will never do that. Everyone needs to get vaccinated at one of the designated vaccination centers. 

Which technically isn’t true. Some health centers do offer their listed patient the vaccination. But this is the center that never got back to me on those blood tests result I took in early April... so I guess they’re overall not very professional.

First I was devastated by the prospect of not being able to get vaccinated because there were no options within walking distance, and no, not everyone have access to a car. Then I decided to brave it and try to book a spot at a center in Stockholm, just at a commuter train station. 

Easier said than done, since the slots went very quickly. But suddenly one appeared, in the middle of the night, a noon appointment on a Sunday. Which should be a time with less people around.

I’ve been incredibly stressed all week about the train ride. 1 year and 3 months ago it was just a normal *everyday* thing. Now it feels like a hotbed of bugs and virus. Have dlrpt poorly all week.

But it went fine. Mask on, trying to keep away from people, even if social distancing is not a thing for Stockholmers apparently. 

I had looked forward to seeing a glimpse of Stockholm and normalcy again. But interesting enough I felt very little once there. Bought proper sourdough bread, got the shot, had a decent soy latte. And lunch at a cafe (very few people), bought peonies, returned home.

A proper adventure in the time of Corona.

Three weeks from now, when the nurse said the vaccine will offer protection from serious Covid, I’ll take a short train ride to a favourite cafe/bakery, get som vegan pastry, fika and bread to take home. Then go inte suburban hiding for the following three weeks before the second shot.

I was also impressed by the vaccination process, calm environment, no queues, quick and professional, tea, coffee and water available when you sit down for a 15 minutes rest afterwards. We are so incredibly priveleged. And I teared up thinking of the countries still being ravaged by the virus, where neither medical care nor vaccine is easy accessible. It’s truly heartbreaking. I feel spoilt. And Western world guilt.

My left arm turned sore last night and I’ve been tired and listless all day. No ticking of the list I had planned but having a very slow day.

Last week we had a couple of days with very intensive rain. On that first day I got a delivery with one of the Tradera finds I was very excited about, a preloved green raincoat from Marimekko. It turned out to be just as amazing as I had hoped. I’m glad I didn’t let those lousy product images deter me from buying it. 

That I did my research and found how the anorak looked like new. As I was the only one bidding for it, I guess I was the only one who could be bother doing the research. I’m so happy that I finally, after years of searching for a perfect raincoat, found one that met my standards and liking. It may not be red or pink, my first choices, but it’s green (in every sense) and from my favourite brand, Marimekko. And it has four (4!) pockets.

A few hours on that heavy rain day of green anorak arrival my roof began to leak again. Now dripping from the ceiling in the living room this time. I have just lived in hope (and fear) that it wouldn’t happen again like in 2018, before I got the money to being able to pay for a full new roofing.

But apparently now is the time for another patch and repair. I got the number for a local carpenter I really hope will have the time and will to be able to help. And that he won’t cost an arm and a leg. Please keep all your internetz fingers crossed for that.

I’m having a few online meetings for small and limited (but interesting) gigs, lined up. But I’m still simultaneously searching for that dream job that makes my heart sing. Haven’t finished the Career Stories Method book yet, have been too stressed to concentrate on making the most of its resources. But I will, once I hopefully have been able to cut the anxiety levels a bit.

Little mum stumbled and feel pretty badly, over a speed bump outside my house. For no real reason at all, but suddenly she laid there with a bleeding face. People stopped to help, I wasn’t able to get her up myself, and we got her home those few metres to my front door. She looked awful, but luckily she managed to hurt nothing more seriously than her nose and getting extensive bruises in her face.

And as luck would have it she had an annual check-up at the doctor the following morning, and they sent her along to the hospital’s emergency room for a proper check-up with x-rays. She had a small broken bone in her nose, but otherwise everything looked alright. That too has been adding to the stress of lately of course.

In the little bright side, I’ve been selling quite a few pieces of clothing on Tradera in May too. Slow start but it has definitely been picking up. A rather slow way of cleansing the wardrobes, but nevertheless, a cleansing. And it’s nice to know the pieces will fill a purpose in someone else’s wardrobe and bring joy to a new wearer. 

I’m also happy to say that I am now the owner of every Maria Lang book published, but for the one and only short stories collection. Some have been real bargains, some more expensive. And then there’s always the shipping fees, when you can’t find several books at the same seller those fees add to the cost in a seriously annoying way, but there you are in the time of corona, with no access to thrift stores or second hand bookshops.

My stressed, anxious, sad and bewildered May brain have probably missed something tell-worthy from the month that was, but I think this will suffice for now. 

Perhaps June will be a month of more short posts and more photos?

Thank you, beautiful May, your emotional rollercoaster monthhas been a tear inducing eye opener and lesson learner. 

Welcome, June, can you please please just be kind, soothing and joyous, I desperately need that. Pretty please with mouth watering delicious vegan cream pastry on top? 



Saturday, May 01, 2021

welcome may, farewell april 2021

The last week’s unexpected and devastating loss of Pelle aside (not that that itself will ever be a thing to look aside or past of course), I think April was a rather good month overall.

One year and one month living with a pandemic later. In a terribly restricted small world, without new impressions and real life interaction with old and new people. And with that the feeling of a constantly shrinking, shrivelling brain due to that lack of growth and possibilities. That too aside. April was good.

Little Mum got her second Covid shot. 

Phase 4, of which I and most of us not in risk groups belong to, were suppose to get the opportunity in mid May. Definitely too good to be true I thought, and right I was, it won’t be happening until September as things look now. 

So anticipating another lost summer alas, confined to the limits of these suburbs just like last year. Walking, reading, weekly vegan thai take away, vegan fika once a week, library visits and grocery shopping, waiting ad finitum and repeat. 

The weather has been your typical capricious April weather - rather cold and windy, but quite a lot of sun. Snow occasionally, and hail, a bit of rain but yes mostly sun but crispy air. 

May/June is when nature in Sweden truly wakes up and usually show its green, lush and benevolent face. I’m looking forward to visiting the cherry blossom trees soon, that were planted here last year. Crocuses, scillas, Easter lilies have been and left, now is the time of pussyfoot, wood anemones, hepatica and cowslips.

April 2021 was also the month I discovered the satisfaction of doing great second hand bargains via Tradera (the Swedish ebay of sorts). I’m not sure I wrote about an amazing Marimekko vintage blouse I missed out on there in March? Because I was an amateur bidder and underestimated the competition. But no more. I’m a pretty fab pro bidder now, and I’ve won 90% of the bidding done. Strategy is everything.

Most things have been in great, or brand new even, condition. The only thing I wasn’t impressed by was a buy from the second hand resale site Sellpy (I have no idea why they sell via Tradera since they have their own site, but they’re doing a swell job blocking small, private sellers. The quality, of well-known brands, isn’t very good, often dirty and overpriced. So once bought from them, never again).

I’m only looking at Marimekko stuff and Maria Lang books (building my collection after re-discovering her books in my bookshelf last summer, remember?) basically. Oh, and I got a heap of old/new miniature cake tins the other day, been meaning to have a go of those recipes from Veganska bakboken. But no such tins in this house, until soon now, hooray. 

My selling on Tradera hasn’t gone so well, so far though. I firmly believe you can make a bargain without paying offensively low prices. Thus I’m not setting my starting prices super-low, for high quality clothes and shoes in outstanding condition. My username is piaktw on Tradera, go have a look if you find something. Sizes M-XL and shoes size 39-41.

I have sold several Marimekko pieces in a Facebook-group instead. Because we are all aware of the high second hand standard of the brand and its value, so it’s fairly easy to sell there and there are often queues of eager buyers. Unlike many Facebook-groups it has a good and positive ambiance overall.

I’m absolutely chuffed about my finds, they totally deserve a happy bonanza post of their own, to come.

Amongst all the fiction read I’ve also begun working with this book - The Career Stories Method by Kerri Twigg. I follow her on LinkedIn and I think she’s inspiring and have some great insights on finding your dream job. 

As things haven’t exactly gone smoothly on my quest so far - and I really don’t understand why - I’m thinking I need to look for and package myself and the value I bring in a new and improved way. I think this book is a good start. Chapter 1 was full of hallelujah moments. Loved it. Got stuck in chapter 4. It didn’t flow as easily for me, so I’m taking my time there.

As I’ve mentioned I’ve been working with an old client in April. And the current needs will be ongoing until June, as things look now. 

I’m also involved in other processes, which I keep my fingers firmly crossed for. 

And I’m thinking of taking some new courses, not sure in exactly what yet. But it’s good to find ways to stretch and expand the brain in these limiting times.

Not only Ågot, Prunella and Pelle had their birthdays in April, but little mum too. We went for coffee and cake at the cafe in the morning, then I cooked and baked a vegan raspberry pear cake, and gifted her some nice things. I do believe she enjoyed the extensive Pelle cuddle the most though. 

This is apparently what a cat in very poor condition and badly cared for look (she wrote sarcastically).

I attended the annual sustainability forum at my alma mater, Stockholm university. This year digital of course. It was pretty good, but for the sound disappearing during the afternoon sessions. Though of course nothing like the real deal amidst real life people in Aula Magna at the university. Hopefully next year.

The day after I lost Pelle, I went grocery shopping and picked up a parcel I was pretty excited about, at least prior to the Pelle-ordeal. When I got home I put the delicious leftover chili on the stove and sat down in the sun in the garden with the furries.

Lost in thoughts I forgot about the pot on the stove, so when I decided to go back in I felt a smell that made me think the neighbours had heated up the barbecue... The kitchen was full of sticky smoke. Luckily no fire, and the smoke/fire alarms didn’t go off until I had begun airing out the smoke and smell (it’s still quite distinctly around though, especially in the kitchen).

The cats didn’t care a bit, they basically just yawned and went back to sleep. Myself I had a sore throat from the coughing and sticky smoke the rest of the day. Obviously I totally ruined my only big pot and that big stirring spoon (whatever was I thinking letting a plastic spoon remain in the pot...). But I’m so grateful nothing much much worse happened. 

I have never done anything this stupid. It’s quite embarassing. I blame a rough year, mind shrivelling and not least the unexpected loss of darling Pelle, the day before.

Oh, and I just remembered I wrote about this smoky incident already, in the previous post about the loss. Well, there’s a proof of the mind shrivelling life in the time of corona, for ya’.

Thank you April, you’ve been full of lessons and growth, small miracles and tiny sparkling moments of happiness and hope. Your pink moon, the supermoon, was just amazing. I am so sorry and sad you saw fit to end your time with a devastating loss of a precious furry family member. 

Hello, beautiful May, please bring positive change, true momentum and new sparkling beginnings to treasure. You are very much welcome.

Wednesday, April 28, 2021

goodnight sweet pelle, 2005 - 2021

Yesterday caught me completely by surprise and deep sorrow. My darling Pelle, who turned 16 a couple of weeks ago, is no more. And the circumstances of his demise are bizarre, unexpected and so unfortunate in a way that only deepens the sorrow.

When I got home yesterday afternoon, I opened the door to the garden, letting the furry gang outside for some sun and fresh air. Pelle went to his favourite sun trap in the scillas behind the lilacs hedge for a cosy nap. 

A few hours later everyone but Pelle had come inside. I went out to see where he was hiding and called for him. To no avail. 

When he was a young chap he regularly found his way up the tree, over to the garden shed and then made his way out on adventures unknow. During the early days he made me crazy with worry where he’d gone roaming, but as there clearly was no way of stopping him from not doing his neighbourhood rounds (but for never letting him out into the fenced in garden at all) I kind of settled with trusting he’d always found his way back home to us.

As an old gentleman the running away on adventures had lost its appeal though. Sleeping, eating, drinking, cuddling, snoopervising, sitting in the sun and eating grass weather permitted, was his melody of life.

Why on earth should he had ventured outside the garden now? So I waited a bit before I made a Pelle search party.

Around 7 pm a woman called and presented herself as a neighbour in my hoods, and also being an animal welfare inspector at the county administrative board. She had been made aware of a cat in very poor condition walking around in the neighbourhood via a local Facebook group. Found the cat in question and took him to the vet. Where his ID-chip, registred to me, was discovered.

She said he was very skinny, dehydrated and in extremly poor condition. She was very civil but at the same time I felt rather questioned and seen as a suspicious, incompetent cat owner.

I explained that yes, he had become thinner lately, but that’s very common with old cats and as long as he remained his usual self, had an appetite for food and water, which he had, I didn’t concidered his state alarming.

So what had happened during thise few hours. How could he have become dehydrated so quickly? And had I been so blinded by our close relationship that I hadn’t seen his deteriation? And on the scale of really bad meowmies, where do I fit? 

I talked to the vet and we decided to let him peacefully be put to sleep that evening. As I don’t have a car, or driver, snd public transport is out of question in the time of corona, I couldn’t get to the vet clinic (not the one within walking distance) I lost the opportunity to say a proper goodbye.

And despite being identified as his owner and that he had vet insurance, the payment, for some weird reasons, couldn’t be cleared directly with me. But he ended up being taken into custody by the county administrative board, which officially decided on him being put to sleep (given his state) with the vet’s advice and me saying yes to it.

They will get invoiced the vet bill and then send they will invoice me. For no reasonable reason at all, but bureaucracy. And who knows how many extra charges I’ll be forced to pay because of that...

I decided long ago that I will never ever again, after nasty situations with incompetent veterinarians, put 10+ year old cats through lengthy or invasive procedures. The only one who will reap any real benefits from that is the veterinary clinic in terms of pricey vet bills. So given the extreme circumstances I think the decision of the final sleep was the right one.

That doesn’t stop me from forever blaming myself for not seeing his uncharacteristic junping the fence decision. For not doing a search party early on and taking him home. And then taking him to the local vet instead, not putting him through that extra stress of being probed and surrounding by strangers for the last hours of his dear and precious life. 

To add to the surrealism of it all, apparently that local Facebook group (of which I’m not a member, didn’t know existed and have no interest whatsoever to be a member of. There’s just an extra kind of stupid flourishing on Facebook. And even more so in those local neighbourhood groups) see it fit to discuss the situation and the *fact* that I shouldn’t be allowed to own cats. Seriously. 

With exactly zero knowledge of the background story, not knowing anything of who I am, my extensive experience with and love for cats (including those 20 years of being a flawless breeder of British Shorthairs), they are apparently self-appointed experts on everything related.

People are idiots. And even more so on Facebook. How about that for a fact.

To add an extra layer of craziness to this, I came hone today and put on a pot of delicious chili sin carne leftovers for lunch. I then sat myself down in the garden in the sun, thinkkng about Pelle, about life, and how things have a tendency to sneak up on us unexpectedly, and hello sorrow, my old friend, I wish we didn’t have to meet so soon again.

Forgot about the chili. Which had then turned into a smokey, black mess when I went inside. The kitchen was dense with smoke, thankfully without fire. But it was sticky and nasty. The fire/smoke alarm didn’t react until later, when I tried to air and  ventilate as best I could.

Myself I coughed and whined, and my throat is still sore and dry. The smell has kind of stuck inside my nose. But the cats were basically, whatever, can we get more wet food now?

My only really big pot was obviously ruined. And that nice stirring spoon too. Whatever was I thinking (if at all) when I let a plastic spoon in the pot without supervising it all close at hand?

So no anticipated vegan chili leftovers for me today. And I don’t trust myself with the stove now. So I had grilled sheese sandwiches and a salad for dinner instead. Plus gulped down a litre of blood orange juice, after that ordeal. 

On the second day in a row feeling like a complete nincompoop.

I deeply wish April 2021 had been rounded off on a high and happy note. Not like this. Nothing whatsoever similar to this. 16 years of loving that quirky, sweetest of sweet tyke named Pelle. And then that story ended like this. How unnecessary and painful is that?

Two days left to prove yourself to be a better month, April, can you do it? 

Saturday, April 03, 2021

happy nine years day, littlest ågot

Nine years ago today, the last of Luddkolt’s British Shorthair litter were born. It wasn’t a concious choice at that time. It just became a fact. Been there, done that, everything in life has its time. And admittedly, breeding quality never quantity brits may be filled with both joy and sorrow, and lots of oxytocin filled cuddles, but it doesn’t exactly save the world.

So after 20 years, countless of cat shows, weekend hours on the roads all over Sweden and Norway, and seven generations of teddybearish kitties the decision grew that it was enough.

Today the littlest of the beloved bunch of tykes turns 9. She doesn’t look a day older than 2.

If my memory serves me right (and who knows after this corona-year) I have a couple of oldies turning 16-17 this month too. 

And then they were seven, left. I’m not sure how to live, or even cope, without brits in my life. All kitties are created equal, but after spending decades in the company of these plush characters, the love story is solid and forever. So I’ll just not think about the bleak prospect of old age taking its toll.

Anyway, it may be Easter Eve today, but it’s also Caturday and most of all it’s Ågot-day, the happiest of birthdays to you, darling fluffster, may we have many more lovely years together, me, you and everyone else in the Luddkolt’s family of very special kitties! 

EDIT: Bad Meowmy with brain fog or a case of April’s fool, I thought Easter Eve was April 4, Ågot’s birthday. So technically I posted this a day early. Oops. 

Wednesday, March 31, 2021

bye bye march, hello hi easter and welcome april

The blood test results are available online, but not the covid one. Not that I think it’ll be positive in any way, 11 months later. The tests look normal, apart from a few that shows slightly elevated blood values. Still haven’t heard back from the clinic on that. Almost a month later. I’ve tried to be patient since these are indeed extraordinary times, but I find it somewhat... unprofessional with the lack of feedback. 

Even if I can see the results I’m obviously not versed in how to interpret them correctly. So I guess I have to call and sort this out. After Easter.

On the last shivering hours of March, and the last shivering hours before Easter 2021, I’ll sum up March as a pretty decent month after all, given the circumstances. I’ve cooked and eaten some great vegan meals, had some great walks, read a lot, watched some really good TV-series (and some less than good ones).

I was contacted by an old client (five years) who asked if I was interested in doing some freelance jobs for them. And as I remember them as being a good client, may not be the most exciting of tasks but working with people/organisation you already know for a good cause, not getting a hassle for your fees and pay the bills, those are darn good pros in my book too. So we’ll sort out the arrangement next week.

Also had a job interview last week, they said they’d get back this week already. Not sure it’s for me, and really not sure I’m for them. So I have low expectations on that one.

Yesterday I had the most bizarre experience with the Coop grocery delivery man. I order groceries online about 4 times per year, the basic stuff and the heavy stuff that’s really inconvenient to lug home with a shopping trolley. The provess has been pretty much flawless these past few years. They’re suppose to deliver to the customers’ door and that’s pretty basic of course. Until yesterday.

The delivery guy chose to drive in at the parking lot farthest from my address. Called me to say there was a building site in his way so he couldn’t get here and I had to come out and do the heavy lifting. The delivery guys usually put all the grocery bags in big plastic boxes on a big trolley and roll those right up to my doorstep. This guy came walking and fuming with a big box of toilet paper only *all that I can carry*, threw those on my door steps and went bag to the lorry. 

I was forced to hurry out after him with my shopping trolley only to find he’d thrown out a lot of cat food tins on the streets and put all my grocery bags out there for me to carry. Much to heavy for me to do after my broken arm (that hasn’t worked to its prior capacity since 2018) but I took as much with me as possible and went back home. Expecting for him to actually doing his job and following me with the rest of the goods.

When he didn’t turn up I went back only to realize he had actually just left my bags unguarded on the street and droven away already. 

I’m still absolutely gobsmacked about the incident, what a complete bastard. Rude, lazy and obviously not fit for the job. On top of that the frozen food items were quite thawed already when I picked them up from the bags. And some items where crushed at the bottom of a bag. I have emailed Coop’s customer service and left a complaint of course. The worst thing delivery-wise I’ve ever experienced.

Had he just used the correct parking lot and not least the boxes and trolley, as all the previous delivery guys, this had been a breeze. The epithome of badwill.

I also attended a little online book club event yesterday, with the guest being the actual writer, Elizabeth Gilbert (Eat, Pray, Love and Big Magic etc) on her book ’City of girls’. I’ve only read 30% of it so far, and I’m not very interested in dissecting books with other readers anyway. But I thought it would be great to hear Gilbert alive like that. She was very nice (and had awesome glasses) and her kitty cute in front of the computer. But I don’t think those 40 minutes on Zoom was really worth the money in the end. 

For the Easter weekend I’m planning to cleanse my wardrobe a bit and put up some fine pieces for sale online finally. My new goal is to sell of more clothes than I buy. And as I have my eye set on a lovely, quirky Marimekko dress for summer I need to sell things to pay for it, as well as get a much needed airier wardrobe. 

As well as do my tax returns. Party, party.

I wish I could potter a bit in the garden and plant pansies in pots too. But I never got around to get those home delivered with big bags of vegan soil before Easter, so that’ll have to wait.

Reading, cuddling cats, cooking, baking, eating and walking isn’t bad either. Even if it’s pretty much what this whole year has been about.

Hey April, I do hope and desperately wish you will bring totally awesome and magical happy happenings this way, you are very very very welcome to do so. 


Eagerly P.

Tuesday, March 23, 2021

five years later

Today it’s been five (5) years (!) already since the final goodbye. And as much as I can’t say I live in the past per se, and I have cultivated resilience this time of the year has been rather heavy since 2016. 

And this past year, with pandemic life, the lack of new input, inspiring meetings and quality conversations, the mind has dwelled a lot over the past.

I’ve grown, I’ve changed, I’ve reinvented myself and at the same time I feel incredibly stuck and somewhat lost. Standing at the sideline in my own life. I’m not all where I’d like to be at this time in life. And yet I acknowledge that this is where I’m suppose to be. 

So much to be grateful for, so much had work, but stuck nevertheless. How do I unstuck myself now? And how to I trust the process? Because honestly I’ve done that for so long now, yet the goal of unstuckedness, the feeling of continous momentum remains illusive and never really within reach. 

Is this all there is? All it’s suppose to be? Short term problem solving infinitum, never long term solutions? Life as a Sisyphean task?

One of the neighbourhood’s dog ladies, friends with little mum, tipped me about this book, genre feelgood. Klubben för lyckliga slut (The Club for happy endings) by Swedish author Caroline Säfstrand. Had never read anything by her before. But I enjoyed it a lot. Easy relatable characters. A store of sorrow and new beginnings. The book was set during this time of the year, the main character lost her husband this time of the year and I got the book in my hand (library reservation) this time of the year. The right read at the right time. 

I also watched Finding Alice a while back. It has gotten very mixed reviews. But clearly, the main character’s, Alice (lost her husband to a freak accident), behaviour, erratic, impulsive, all over the place, can mostly (or only?) be understood by someone who have lost a partner. And even more so when it happened unexpectedly. It’s a rollercoaster of emotions, constantly, and you never know when, where or what will appear. 

Today, a few days after Spring Equinox, we had the first really warm, global warming style, day of spring, +12 degrees C. Long walk, sunshine, good coffee, outdoors seating. 

Tried my best thinking good thoughts only and just be in the here and now. It was a pleasant day. Even if Wistful is my constant companion since that fateful day, March 23, 2016. Then on Ash Wednesday, now a week prior.

I’ll continue problem solving tomorrow. Promise. But for now, just be. Me.

Tuesday, March 16, 2021

my one year of corona anniversary


Today March 16, 2021 marks exactly ONE (1) year since I last was in Stockholm city - a sad (and decent) oat latte cheers to that! Life in the time of corona, in limbo, has been hard, draining, sad, disappointing, worrying, uncertain, inspiring, full of lessons, books, growth, tears, gratitude, Weltschmerz and not nearly enough laughter and happiness.

And in these troublesome times, just a reminder, if everyone were vegan and didn’t treat this planet and its non-human animals as disposables we wouldn’t be in this pandemic mess in the first place.

Sometimes the answer IS very simple. Educate yourself. Be kind. Be compassionate.

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