final report of summer 2025

A car with a locked wheel, mental mentor meeting, almost moving my mother into a care home, three weeks of full-time vacation, several weeks of half-time vacation, almost every weekend at the cottage, fetching a dead eagle from a deserted island and sending it by post, two magical boat trips to summer islands, a little family time, lots of alone time, pondering vocational singleness, a small but exquisite church concert, Midsummer celebration as usual, Kuddnäs and the history of Topelius, selling crêpes at a church conference, wheelchair excursions with my mother, grilling sausages on a rainy day, books, a heatwave so strong it melted glue in the bathroom, weariness and tears, road trip to Pensala and Purmo and a country fair in Jeppo, cottage renovations, funeral of a beloved aunt, Kristinestad with friends, garden cafés and the most gorgeous B&B I've ever stayed in, the Stundars museum, a month-long break from TV, Night of the Arts with yarn crafts and decadent red wine, my mother's last trip to her favourite place, end-of-summer celebration, hospital visits.

I am made of words & rivers & winds & wildflowers. 

I am part grief & part hope & all love.

(Victoria Erickson)

guiding lights along the coast of autumn

Sleeping in peaceful, dark rooms. Books. Vanilla milkshakes. Candles. Women who know God. A weekend in a foreign city. Church windows. A little wine. Walks among birds and the smell of leaves. Celebrations. Star Trek. Making  music. Love.

fridge findings, five years later

Time for the only fun (or at least vaguely interesting) thing to do when you're the only one left in the office and everyone else is on summer vacation: exploring the contents of the staff fridge.

1 protein pudding (chocolate flavoured)

1 punnet of strawberries (25% remaining) 

1 punnet of cherries (50% remaining)

truffle sweets

17 mini-bottles of mineral water (strawberry-rhubarb flavoured)

organic dates

3 mini-bottles of soft drinks

3 mini-cartons of milk

1 tube of tuna spread

1 ice pack

chili sauce

ketchup

mustard

eye drops

The problem with our staff fridge: it's impossible to know what's private, what's free for the taking, and what's private but won't be missed if you take it. And what's been open for months and will kill you if you take it.

how to sneak up on a whooping swan

How to sneak up on a whooping swan, send a dead eagle through the mail, watch an almost entire match of women's football: things I've learned this summer.

How to enjoy extreme heat, structure a holiday well so it doesn't end in tears, handle a boat: things I've still not learned this summer.

final report of spring 2025

Party season with lots of cake, a horrible flu, hiking among quiet lakes, a trip to Jeppis, several museums, a joyful Easter lunch, a Sunday morning in a country church, elation over our very own boy band KAJ in the Eurovision, balcony sun, subtitling annoying children's shows and testing AI translation, studying attitude and flow, afternoon tea, a choral concert straight out of heaven, a big-band jazz concert I endured, combing my hair differently, wondering if setting goals is against my faith, meeting a roebuck, hearing a wolf pack howl, singing in three languages, a Star Trek binge, a Turku weekend with history and sun and my favourite castle and my favourite people.

Edit: the wolf pack might have been a husky pack. But I won't let the truth stand in the way of a good story.

shallow little thoughts I've had lately

Perceived absence of love equals presence of fear. 

Critical thinking, a love of science and facts: these can co-exist peacefully and creatively with a deep fascination for the Bible.

I seem to have outgrown my daddy issues and this is negatively affecting my creativity and sleep.

I have acquired a recent aversion to setting goals.

In every situation: take a deep breath, then listen carefully.

Olives, figs or cashews will energize any boring dish.

When I was younger, I used to wish May 21st was my birthday. I felt that would make me a nearly magical creature. I have no idea why. 

hikes with wolves

I went hiking in the forest, alone. 

It was a ridiculously pretty spring day, you know the kind. The sun smiles over quiet little lakes where birds play in the water, blackbirds and robins serenade each other, the cutest little flowers sprout everywhere, an enticing path winds among ancient trees. Not another human being for miles. The breeze in the pines the only background noise.

I spent a good part of the hike worrying. Mostly about being eaten. I made a mental list of dangerous beasts I was most likely to encounter. Bear, extremely unlikely. Wolf, highly unlikely but not out of the question. Elk, quite possibly, but not likely to eat me. Adder, fairly possible and likely to at least take a bite out of me.

I had almost convinced myself to stop worrying and just enjoy the day when I heard, at a distance, a wolf pack howling. Seriously, a wolf pack. 

Or a bunch of huskies in the nearest village, I told myself hastily. It's just that, according to the map, there was only deep forest in the direction of the noise. I have never seen a wolf in the wild, but some people around here have. Nobody seems to ever hear them howl.

I froze. Considered the likelihood of being eaten again. Then I realised I had suddenly stopped worrying. I was absolutely, overwhelmingly thrilled by the fact that I was - just maybe - listening to ... wild wolves howling.