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.

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 unknown. 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 those 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, and 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. Instead 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 agreeing 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 jumping 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 few 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 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 home 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, thinking 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? 

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. 

bye bye march, hello hi easter and welcome april

At this time a year ago I had what I thought was an awful cold or a flu only, that went on for some weeks. Haven’t really been myself since. Weird symptoms, that might or might not be long covid. I never got a covid test, until March 4 this year when I finally got a doctor’s appointment and some other various blood tests. I’m just the kind of person that’s staying away from the health care system as much as possible, and obviously even more so in these extraordinary times.

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. 

Yours, 

Eagerly P.

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 https://piaks.blogspot.com/2016/05/to-cultivate-resilience.html?m=1 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 https://www.imdb.com/title/tt11127412/ 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.

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.

so march, so far

 

Spoke to hastily about warm temperatures in the last post me thinks. There were only a few days of them. And though the days with shoes and socks have been very enjoyable, and a welcome relief after months of IceBugs, the winds have been relentlessly chilly and unpleasant so far this month. Tomorrow it’s suppose to be a heavy snowfall followed by heavy rain the next day. 

With a small, restricted pandemic world also comes obsessing about the current weather. Which days a good for long walks, which are best for cuddling upp with books and cats. Those very impawtant things in life as is.

I’m not sure the doctor’s appointment last week will lead to any enlightened insights on the hows and whys of my health status. I forgot to mention half of my weird symptoms (and I noticed he had just written down ’symptoms of illness’ in my e-journal anyway...) and I doubt the blood tests will show anything useful. 

Ended up with three (painful) tries to get the blood samples, and of course it had to be the hand that worked in the end. It’s a bad bad combo to really hate needles AND be so notoriously difficult to get them working. At least it was only three times now, the worst thing was when three different nurses had to try 15 times to find a vein in 2012. 

My mum is getting her first covid vaccination next week. No information which brand it will be yet. But as far as I can tell from the reading, of what I think are reliable sources, the Pfizer or Moderna offers much better protection than Astra Zeneca. 

But I’m also well aware that the vaccination is a short term bandaid on a huge boil, that will never heal until we radically change the way we eat and interact with non-human animals and nature. It’s still the elephant in the room, the obvious answer to the pandemic we’ve unleashed on the world - go vegan and stop using, abusing, torture and kill sentient beings for food and clothes we do not need. The glaring blindspot most everyone ignore. 

I hate seeing people I know, and concider smart people in most other aspects than their obvious faulty food habits, continue to post icky photos of gross, unhealthy meat and dairy meals in their social media accounts. Seriously. The sorry La la la, I’m free to chose my own habits-excuse doesn’t work anymore (if it ever has). It’s a thing of the long and completely obsolete past. Step up and be the change, the world so desperately need, please. Everyone has the responsibility to do so.

Now to some slightly old news, Fat (Shrove) Tuesday. The season, the day, us Swedes hold sacred because we get to feast on our beloved semla pastry. 

I’ve written about it several times over the years, the perfect semla, the baking of your own buns, how to make your own almond paste, best vegan semla etc - search old posts as I can’t link via the blogwriting on the iPhone - but this year I was afraid there would be no semla at all for me.

My old food processor broke down some years ago (a Kitchen Aid is obviously very high on my wishlist now) and I sadly haven’t baked breads and buns since 2018. And with very limited options for vegans in my hoods, a vegan semla would most likely be impossible to find.

But I asked the local bakery - you know, the place where they lied and said that almond pastry was vegan, when it in fact contained egg white, last year? But then offered some really good vegan options in their new cafe, which has been one weekly highlight visit that has given a much needed sense of normalcy since last August? - if they could bake vegan buns, so I could make my own semla? And they said yes!

So a month ago I picked up 20 beauties in the bakery, swung by the cafe so the could make two plantbased semla for our fika (which was SO good) and have since assembled my own semlor (plur.) and also simply dunked the buns in hot chocolate, which also is a treat.

Not as fancy and perfect consistency buns as the vegan semla at Bageri Passion (out of reach in these time of corona) I’ve loved since 2019, but more on the dry side. Which isn’t uncommon in semla buns in general. Still a decent bun.

The overall experience was lovely. 

When they opened up the cafe in August last year, it was still outdoors season. When crisp autumn came, it was okay to move indoors because the guests who sat down for food and fika, and didn’t go for take away, were still few and far apart. Making sure to follow the covid guidelines. I think we used to be about 5-6 people max in the cafe.

Unfortunately that has changed, the last time we visited a few weeks ago, at our usual time 9.30-10, the cafe quickly filled up and when we left (after not feeling comfortable at all, but wanted to finish the coffee we’d paid for) there were over 15 guests + staff there. Covidiots. 

It’s crazy enough that the visitors don’t react but think it’s quite alright to sit down so close to eachother, but that the proprietors don’t take proper precautions, follow guidelines, and remove chairs and tables, limit the amount of guests allowed, is actually infuriating. 

I know they, like the rest of us, need their revenues. But at what cost? If people don’t follow the guidelines (which are called recommendations in Sweden but are concidered mandatory in many places, and are for food businesses strict rules) the virus will just continue to spread forever. 

The weekly cafe visit, and the thai take aways, have been two of the much needed highlights in this past year’s surreal limbo life. And just because of ignorance and stupidity one of those highlights are no longer available. At least not until we can sit outdoors again. 

Maybe if we get there when they open at 9 am, there’s less people, and we could have a safe fika visit. But the fact still remains, you really only want to support local businesses that act responsibly.

I don’t think I’ve written something more substantial about the sheep heard that have a large all-year-round enclosure in my hoods. They’ve been a joy to visit this winter. So many individuals with different characters. Spending time with them always brings out a wide set of emotions. 

Clearly they’re doomed for a sad and violent fate. And I really don’t want to live in a world where it’s considered normal to tag sentient beings as commodities and things. They are clearly so much more that that, they have the right to their own long lives, on their own natural terms. 

But I’m so grateful I get to spend at least some time regularly  with them, enjoying their different personalities and friendly quirks. Animals really are THE best. They deserve SO much more than we humans put them through, for no good reason at all.

Another thing I’m grateful for is that I decided to upgrade to the iPhone 12 ProMax last year. Because the camera’s portrait feature is awesome. Granted the camera doesn’t function flawlessly, the Bokeh effect is somewhat overwhelming at times. Which is a pity, but also something of a common issue it seems, so hopefully it’ll be fixed in some software update in a not too distant future. 

Also, not a fan of the ridiculously bright night time photo effect, when you want a decent dark dramatic photo with a contrasting moonlight you get the opposite. And I still haven’t found a way to opt out of that. Then the Notes go all blank at times, but reappears after a day or two. And the timer doesn’t work properly. 

But I’m so happy with the kitty photos, and other animals too plus selfies kind of take and adjust themselves, which is miraculously convenient. 

It’s even possible to get decent captures of a black cat! Viola will turn 14 in some months, and good photos of her (and her black cousin Waldemar who unexpectedly sadly passed away last summer) as a grown up have been few and far apart. Now  I finally have some. 

On March 8 I attended a great Zoom talk on gender equality with Katrine Marçal, a Swedish journalist and writer, arranged by KTH Innovation here in Stockholm. Read her brilliant book ’Att uppfinna världen’ (published in English under the name ’Mother of Invention’) this winter. 

On how basically 100 years of potential technological innovation have been lost due to the fact that women have been effectively locked out of the system. That the whole warped view that things, needs and behaviours are deemed male or female, have cost humanity and the world so much progress. And in 2021 it still needlessly continue to do so. Absolutely crazy and infuriating. 

We have a climate emergency to deal with, high time to stop being this incredibly ignorant and stupid. The problem concern everyone, so does the solutions.

And to all the religious, fantatically backwards misogynist countries that still do exist in 2021 - just stop being such complete ass hats. Frankly. Really.

No happy update on the job front quest yet alas. Instead of concentrating all my efforts on The Dream Job, I’ve branched out to looking at paying the bills-jobs that still offer good things to do and learn, albeit not really being the challenge in line with my seniority level and acquired skills, I’d really want. 

I’ve spruced my CV a bit, but honestly, I can’t really see what I could/should remove from it, at this stage in life. With age and experience it does get naturally longer and certain things must show. Maybe I can try a different, creative layout approach for fun. Or maybe I need someone to look at it with fresh eyes. 

So the only fun I’ve updated to for now is my hair colour. 2020 I went pink for New Year’s day, little did one know it would be such an uphill struggle to remain sane and reasonably fun and hopeful for the rest of the year then.

This year I saved my vegan Pink Pop colour refresh (Maria Nila Stockholm) upgrade until International Women’s Day. As usual  it’s suppose to last about 10 washes, but I find that the shimmer can last much longer. Let’s hope it sprinkles pink magic and brings much needed happy new beginnings in my life, work an otherwise.

I continue to put my trust in your process, March, so what awesomeness will you come up with with 2/3 of you left to experience?