the waterboys

Over the years I've had cats and kittens that have been more or less obsessed with water. Not that any really have enjoyed taking a bath - the one cat that once upon a time made me broke my arm was actually one of the nicer ones in the shower - but many have loved the dripping of the tap. The drip drop cats.

One of the most endearing sights was the one where my first British Shorthair (blue boy Oscar) showed his tiny grandchildren exactly how much fun you can have with a dripping tap at the kitchen sink. He jumped up on the kitchen sofa, strategically situated beside the kitchen counter within jump-reach for a cat, big or small. 'Then pitter-patter along the counter until you reach the sink. If it's not dripping we can wait until someone sees us sitting here waiting.' One big blue grandpa' followed by four tiny kittens in a row. All mesmerized by the delight and prospect of a dripping tap.

These days there are only a few tap cats in my house. Namely father and son, Pelle and Waldemar (and sometimes the liquorice cousin Viola). Like with the bread basket. Very entertaining. As well as somewhat annoying. I don't like my taps to drip. When they don't I get the most reproachful of looks from Pelle. The one that's ALWAYS around when there's a tap nearby and he isn't fast asleep. 'Hey, this won't do!'

Then he can sit there in or by the sink and play with the water, drinking, splashing, letting it drizzle all over his head. And I'll let him. For a while. Because he should have some fun and because it makes me happy to see the silliness of it kitty all. They're such lovable goofy pranksters, the cats.

And then they were two. Like father, like son. The waterboys. The pranksters. The clever cats I'm sharing my life with. The ones that light my life from the gloom, that now and then shows its ugly, nasty head. The lovable purrballs.

pretty wordless wednesday

Busy, busy, writing, writing, Christmas cards and other important things. Drinking tea, eating the odd lussekatt. Accompanied by the one whom snow becomes. Therefore only the shortest of posts today.

And yes, the blogoversary giveaways are now in the mail, out of my hands and in those of the Postal Service. May good luck be with them all and reach the five winners before Christmas. Ho-ho-ho!

snow becomes him

The obvious stand is of course that anything (weather, season, place, situation) becomes a cutie loafie extraordinaire (from a loafie's omniscient point of view). But somehow I do believe that snow becomes him that tad bit more more. I base that on seven winters' empirical science.

Here follow a few seasonal observations so far this year ~

A sample of previous snowy becoming posts -

:: the perfect civil servant
:: tulips and the lack of green fingers
:: monday morning snow medley
:: mr snowy pants
:: ice ice malte
:: december 21st - winter solstice
:: snow bouncer no 30013 (lots of loaf)
:: the fabulous nose and the magnificent loaf (lots of loaf)
:: postcards bookmark giveaway reminder
:: happy groundhog day (lots of loaf)
:: monday bits
:: smart dog tuesday in snow
:: friday friends and coconut tops (lots of loaf)
:: on international women's day (loafie is certainly a modern man)
:: monday bits 2
:: the day snow came to town
:: snow boy
:: granny square winter garland
:: shoe per diem dec 11 - loafing day

Which may be your favourite (so far) winter Malte post? One loafie extraordinaire is most interested to know.

in times of lucia

December 13, the day of Lucia in Sweden. The bearer of light. In times of darkness.

Yesterday there was baking of "lussekatter" in casa de Pia. Today there will be eating of said saffron buns. Low key celebration one might say. The way I mostly like it.

Happy Lucia Day all!

Read more about this Swedish tradition in the ~

2006 post
2007 post
2008 post
2009 post

twitter junta

"Syjunta" = sew circle/junta used to be a popular kind of social gathering amongst women/housewives once upon a non-emancipated time in Sweden. And I suppose in many other countries too. Like a book circle, but with yarn, needles, fabric, hooks instead. Plus food, drink and the exchanging of ideas. (Or quite possible simply gossip for the less intellectual, more narrow-minded...).

Sadly this tradition has petered, times have changed, for better and for worse. For me, and obviously for a whole lot of other emancipated modern women, needlework, spending time with yarn and hook is very far from a traditionally housewifey thing to do. It's just a fine thing to do, satisfying to be able to create something from a ball of yarn, a piece of fabric, whether alone, travelling or in a social gathering of some sort.

Someone (not me) came up with the idea that people (tweeps) on Twitter who like to knit, crochet, sew, embroider, well anything artsy craftsy really, should meet up for a Twitter junta. In theory something that sounded like a nice idea indeed.

But to be honest, just because you like to read this and that blog, or follow this and that person on Twitter, it really doesn't mean you're either interested in seeing them irl (for various reasons) or that if/when you do meet them it'll feel as right irl as it does online (for various reasons also).

I've always been (and will always be) quite sceptical when it comes to the group-thing. These past few years I've come to realize that I really don't do the group-thing. Not me, not interested really. Not that I'm anti-social, far from, I'm just in general more of a one-on-one person. To pick that one brain, to hang with that one person at a time, that I love (which in a group situation is naturally far from always possible). Which is a nice feeling to finally simply acknowledge like that. I don't do the group-thing.

I suppose this reasoning about group structures would be interesting to elaborate in a blogpost one day. Because human (and otherwise) interaction and behaviour is of course very interesting (and often disheartening, since the world is what it is as a whole...). But this neither that blogpost nor that day.

But to every rule there are exceptions. Lovely exceptions. Exceptions that really make life that grand place of good surprises and gifts it should be far more often that it seemingly is.

The first Twitter junta occasion took place during my sore thumb-period, I didn't attend. Today was the second occasion and I showed up. Bringing vegetable pie and semi-healthy fruit-nut cookies. And yarn, needles and hook. We were six women (but crafty men also allowed) and the most adorable (second to loafie of course) black-white shaggy perfect yarnbally looking dog (sadly no great photos to show the adorableness).

We potluck ate, drank, talked, knitted, crocheted. I managed to satisfyingly lend a rather substantial helping hand to a couple of yarn-projects, we talked some more, exchanged food and I have to say that it was a really nice gathering of yarny tweeps indeed. It could have been an awkward occasion, draining, tiresome in that clamped group-thing way.

Instead it turned out to be relaxed, inspiring, fun and unpretentious. I'm pretty sure with another tweep group structure, like any group structure, it could have been quite the opposite, a sure shot that hit the goal post, a certain one time thing. But I'm glad it wasn't. Instead I'm quite looking forward to the next Twitter junta meetup in about a month. A bright tweetlight in the not so bright times of me right now.

Yarn bring people together. Yarn is good. And Twitter can be good too.

seasonal signs

The other day I suddenly craved Christmas porridge (rice pudding). I rarely do these days, but I loved it as a child. Even if I probably would be able to make it myself, in the spirit of fond childhood memories I happily accepted my mum's offer to make a pot. I enjoyed my first bowl of it yesterday. Sprinkled with lots and lots of cinnamon, just as it should be. Lovely.

Today I enjoy the first bowl of clementines. The most common fruit eaten on Swedish public transportation this time of the year I'd say. Love the smell of citrus fruit on the bus and train. And I do very much enjoy eating them if that white thready thingy inside is of the easy peelable kind. I hope the vitamin C will cheer me up. Lots.

the noble animal rights day

December 10, Nobel Day in Sweden.

These days I'm an angry person, getting angrier by the day. Such large sums of money, costly festivities in general when the world's burning, the planet is crying, living beings are dying in cruel ways and for unnecessary reasons peak my anger. And sadness. Money could, should be much better spent. Festivities are certainly nice and needed, but thought, perspective and compassion, people, perspective and compassion.

A year ago I seem to have been in a better mood, the Nobel Day post of 2009 hit a lighter note.

Today is also Animal Rights Day. As well as Human Rights Day. I think that surpasses the importance of Nobel Day in every way imaginable. When we've sorted that out, the true rights of every being to rule their own life, to be respected and respect others, to have the right not be used and abused by others (those others who in a blatant assumptive way think they're superior to other beings) - then we can celebrate. In a truly noble style.

all the pretty pouches

Let's have a pretty post today (as opposed to yesterday's). Still iPhone related but more pleasing to the eye. My eye which I had set on the gorgeousness of the vintage inspired lap top bags and pouches over at Track and Field on Etsy.

Pretty fabrics, prints and lace in more subdued colours and patterns. Too many cute styles to chose from. In the end I went with three padded tall pouches (perfect for iPhone and other cell-phones) and three regular pouches. For self and for gifts. (I still dream of a future laptop bag...)

It did take a long time to decide exactly what combination of colour/pattern/print/style I wanted, but in the end these were the ones I settled on. The pink pug-lace pouch is my current winter-dress for iPhone. Some pouches have found new homes (with happy receivers), some I'm having saved for the perfect inauguration occasion.

They all have in common that they are very well-made, I was so pleased with that discovery (what might look and sound good on screen may not be quite as pleasing when you see and feel it) upon receiving the package. The padding in the tall pouches, the colour coordinated lining and the zipper, the screen print. They are adorable indeed. And make for great, unpretentious yet super cute and personal gifts.

Track and Field on Etsy

pelle and the rumpelf impersonator

Got myself some nifty new lenses for the iPhone -

the fitting still needs tweaking since the lenses somehow don't seem to fit the iPhone design as well as one would expect and think... Think it should be reasonably easy to solve the issue though, will get back on that -

played around with them a bit in poor light last evening. The fisheye-lens was a huge hit, we laughed until we cried and very close to, I dare say, wet ourselves. Fisheyeing really brings out the be... worst in you. I made a colour version of this one photo of me (yes really), but I look more than a tad tipsy rumpelf, more of a mad blotto gnome. Thus I fear it'd give you nightmares for months, at least, ahead. Black-white it is. Fell free to laugh. I'm sure we will have much fun together, me and fisheye ~

Here's a clip from the Swedish movie based on the Astrid Lindgren book "Ronja Rövardotter" (Ronia, the robber's daughter) where the little "rumpnissar" (literally "rump elves") first appear. I've searched in vain for the translation used for "rumpnisse" (sing.) and I don't have the Ronja-book in English, so rumpelf it is.

to learn from an odd bear

The other week when I was cleaning out stuff (to hopefully find something to donate to charity), I found this little fellow in a tin. I made him years and years ago, using cernit (polymer clay). Very popular in those days, I did enjoy it quite a lot, but my interest petered with time. I had forgotten about this tiny figures when I found Mr Little Bear again.

I do believe I made two, one darker brown bear and one lighter one, to hold each other company. Hidden in the tin was only the dark brown head (with one ear lost) and the lighter brown rotund body. I have no idea what happened to the lost parts. I think there might be a life lesson or two to be learned from this unfortunate incident -

:: You should never rely on toothpicks only, to get your head stuck onto your body. Glue, superglue, is highly recommended for that job.

:: When you think everything is lost, hope has flown away, life is in pieces, something unexpected happens, someone finds you and your now slightly mismatching body-parts and things seem a bit brighter once again.

:: Even if those parts and pieces that have been torn apart by life and unfortunate events now are that slightly mismatched, things and life might actually become better, in the long run more fulfilling, inspiring that way.

:: Tad different colour, furry or not, different diets, different walks of life, just as unique in ourselves, just as alike as every other being we are.

One ear lost, the perfect body nowhere to be found, but seen again, appreciated just like the lovable and more than slightly misfortunate clay being he is, Mr Little Bear. And now, blog post central figure model extraordinaire.