song is the theme of the month

May projects: take hundreds of walks in the woods, smell the flowers, sing with the birds, sing with a choir, watch Eurovision Song Contest, throw a party, go to one of my favourite cities, go to my favourite cabin in the woods, try to postpone my usual summer breakdown.

give my inner child a sugar-free morceau de gâteau

April projects: enjoy Easter, spend no money at all, learn French, let go of worrying, do fun stuff (without spending money), deal with my inner child, celebrate my birthday, get serious about sugar, buy a laptop (preferably without spending money).

Piece of cake. (For my birthday - not sugarfree!)

final report from winter 2025

Mild winter, extreme translation-related stress, course weekends, a gleaming Christmas with a fragrant Christmas tree, lots of time curled up with a book, existential anxiety, choir practice, eight-hour industry work weeks, kind-of poverty.

New experiences: an overnight stay alone in an empty hotel in a blizzard, distributing Christmas packages to the poor, acting as private interpreter for an ambassador.

one to forget

A winter of worries - work, health, money. Apart from a gleaming Christmas and a few fascinating course weekends, I'd rather forget most of it.

But mountains have been moved for me. It's time to live, listen to the birds, and write sometimes.

interrupted thoughts

I have washed puppy pee from my jeans and sang I see a red door and I want it painted black...

Science and princes with ancient table manners, glamorous dresses and food ...

A yellow light flashing, a steel door gliding open by itself. Shouted loudly come out and play ...

Oh ye'll take the high road and I'll take the low road
and I'll be in Scotland a'fore ye

I cry for the loss of love when what I really mean is the loss of warmth. Love is found in the sun. Late bloomer, they said once. What about never-bloomer?

I'm already in eternity, just a few more bumps in the road before heaven opens up.

Clutching a double-shot cappuccino like a lifeline, trying to focus on a book. Listening to the Eastern-European guys ...

A gentle hand steadied me.

... on a quest for God's love and an easy breath.

... obliquely through the dandelion clocks around us ... 

Pandemic restrictions have been lifted and I can go to church again, if I want. I don't know if I want. 

"Let's go to France this summer and explore castles and drink red wine," a friend said. 

December is another planet than June.

They say there might not be enough electricity this winter, and is there a good way to finish this blog entry? No, there isn't.

There was a woman, once. This is not my story.

living with fire, or the times I nearly died

I have managed to set my hair on fire twice. (Must have had some fun parties!)

As a kid: nearly drowned once, was chased by a pedophile another time.

As a carefree student travelling by bicycle in every kind of weather: close encounters with moving cars at least three times, with the ground a few more.

I was hit by a bus while walking, and survived. 

Thank you, God.

the snow-how of a Finn

Winter weather clues in the morning:

A cool bedroom: it's been a cold night. Slightly too warm: milder weather. A soft, blueish light: snow on the ground. The rumbling of snowplows or an eerie silence outside: lots of new snow. The sound of someone scraping ice off their car: frost. A bright light with the sky high as a cathedral outside my window: very cold. The sound of dripping wetness: thaw. Noisy crackling under the wheels of passing cars: thawed snow that has frozen over again. Dirty yellow air: a blizzard approaching.