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.

slow moves in messy hair

Sleepy homesickness, slow moves in messy hair and woollen socks. The office on those silent last days of the year when Christmas is still in the air. Almost alone.

Fir trees in snow outside the window, shifting from dark to golden pink, to greyish white, to dusky blue, to dark again. Christmas lights, leftover chocolates. End-of-year statistics, last-minute shipments. Lonely colleagues between empty desks at the other end of the office. Lazy chats over mugs of coffee.

I'm reluctant to let go of glittering lights in dark snow, cinnamon scent, angelic voices, traditions of centuries, magic of millennia, Christmas in the North.

through a storm and almost to Sweden

I have made it something of a life principle. To leave Finland at least once a year for a trip to foreign lands. Sometimes it has been only a quick nip across the border to Stockholm or Tallinn (panicking, in December) or a visit to my second home Ireland which is not really a foreign land, but still.

I boast about doing this for the last thirty years, with an exception for the year I grieved for my father and couldn't seem to make it anywhere.

Last year, the time had come for an epic journey to Italy. Needless to say, the pandemic had other plans. Even this year, it didn't seem wise to do anything more than a couple of staycations. After all, Finland has plenty to see.

But I did get to cross an international border, thanks to my employer who took the work team on a mini-cruise across the pond to the Swedish city of Umeå. We didn't actually go ashore, there wasn't time. But I got to see the Swedish coast, which was being lashed by a heavy storm and icy rain. It felt like a victory after a year and a half of closed borders. 

The ferry is small but brand-new and boasts of being the latest in green technology. It has the most lavish and delicious seafood buffet I have ever experienced. Fortunately, I had worked my way through the caviar, salmon and prawn cakes to the sea buckthorn parfaits and white chocolate mousses of the dessert table before the storm started to toss the boat too seriously. I had also had my fill of letting my hair fly loose in the gales on the "sun" deck and breathing in the cold, salty air, with the exhilaration that only comes in the middle of a storm on the open sea.

I managed to win a quiz despite near-seasickness - my boss and I tied for first place - and then retired to the cozy bar for a white russian and some dozing. So this was my foreign adventure in 2021. Could Italy be much better? I doubt it.

at a hazy distance from shore

A rare day in the lap of luxury: a big boat roaring out towards the outer archipelago, a blue sea still as a sheet of glass. 

An almost deserted island with open horizons in every direction, Sweden a hazy mist in the distance, the rest of Finland nearly as far away. 

The silence, the smooth rocks warmed by the sun. Strawberries, dark coffee.

the office puppy

My boss in the garment industry understands the importance of good employee care, it must be said. Amenities in the office have escalated from a fruit bowl to a Nespresso machine and now to a PUPPY. 

Here with mirror image for your doubled viewing pleasure.

Perceived results in employee efficiency: Employees eagerly arrive at work, and then don't get much work done.

asbestos or xylene, that's the question

"Is TH2P R SL sufficient respiratory protective equiment if the dust saturation is 90 milligram per cubic meter on average over an eight hour workday?"

This question was asked of me today. I'm continuing my studies in personal protective equipment and pondering safety issues in industrial environments. I have hardly even seen the inside of a factory or had to breathe more dust than can be found behind my sofa. I have certainly never used more advanced respiratory protective equipment than a disposable face mask. I am to become an expert on these things. In a language with very long words.

I find myself muttering to myself in my third language about particulate respirators, compressed air from remote sources, assigned protection factors. Whether asbestos or xylene is of higher priority in a risk analysis. Whether oxygen deficiency or explosive environments are preferable when you're trying to stay alive. Whether my boss will kill me if I fail the exam when she paid so much for this course.

welcome, icy clarity

Ah, to finally be past the emotional funfair that is August - with its wild carnival laughter, colours, a bewildered heart - and safely land in the ordered world of September!

The memories of hot sand, summer nailpolish, whirling ideas and cool grass are fading. I note that I did some of the things I had planned for this summer. There were mojitos, friends, drives through lush fields, the saving of a seagull chick, excited smiles on my mother's face, walks among fragrant pine trees, boat trips beyond the horizon, exploration of things unknown, Netflixing alone in the cabin between the sea and the forest, love and languages.

I still welcome the chilly nights of now, the starry skies dripping ice. The smell of the gym I haven't set foot in for months, the pilates balls, the dancing shoes, the volleyball men with their muscles and the exhilaration of sweating off all that sadness. The delicious lunches in the cafeteria at work, the business meetings around laptops, wry smiles, plans. The new knowledge that is placed before me, the Excel charts and the music course and all the books I haven't read. Beautiful clothes. The feeling of setting off.

I loved the summer but I was lost and confused. I mourn the loss of a hot sun and birdsong, of being so close to nature that I can hear it breathe.

 I revel in making schedules with early morning work and evening classes, and the peace that comes with sticking to them.

Welcome, icy clarity of autumn.

not somewhere else

I have a sore throat and should isolate myself. So I fight a sudden urge to go absolutely everywhere just to see people.

In cutoff denim shorts and woollen socks, I bring my laptop out on the balcony and proofread rainwear labels in the company of sea and sky.

I asked God why I'm not somewhere else. He said, "Because you don't really want to be."

fridge findings, three years later

Three years ago, on a boring day alone at the office, I did a stock take of the office fridge (see it here). Some interesting findings there (antibiotics with pickled cornichons, wasabi and Kahlua liqueur, anyone?).

As I'm having another boring office day alone, I felt it was time for an update. Clearly, hard times have fallen upon this company. These were the meager results today:

* 15 bottles of mineral water (small, lemon flavoured)

* 12 bottles of ginger beer

* 6 bottles of soft drinks

* 1 bottle of Czech beer (same one as three years ago?)

* 1 tin of olives (opened)

* 1 tin of lingonberry jam

* 1 tin of chili sauce

* 1 bottle of vinegar

* 1 bottle of lemon essence

* 2 cartons of lactose-free milk (small)

It would be a harsh (but not thirsty) few days if I was accidentally locked in at the office over the weekend.

my work among the fairies

From a cabin in the woods I travelled in to work and started by going out for lunch.

Today's work tasks, once that was done: sending a piece of wood to China, pondering the different meanings of the word 'agency" in three languages, putting a fairy in her place, spending 800 of my employer's euros, deleting a picture of my nails, wondering what cookies really are, sending a container on a journey across the globe.

oxygen deficiency and very long words

What I'm studying in pandemic times: 

EU certificates of conformity, risk assessment, how to choose your personal protective gear, noise exposure levels, liquified gas, why bactericides are not enough and how oxygen deficiency usually kills two people at the same occasion. 

All this in my third language. In which the first term bears the lovely name EU-vaatimustenmukaisuusvakuutus.

dress code: business bohemian

During office hours I sit at a beautiful teak desk. The staff room has a fancy espresso maker and exotic fruits in the snack bowl.

My colleagues arrive in expensive cars, dressed in ripped jeans and hoodies - it's the kind of office that is too cool for a business dress code.

I sometimes arrive in a sharp pencil skirt, sometimes in a hoodie. Sometimes both. I put rings on my fingers, hoops in my ears, thick mascara on my lashes. I stomp around in boots. I sometimes arrive in a very uncool, noisy car that looks out of place among the Audis. Mostly I take the bus - where I'm sometimes the only woman not in a hijab.

I feel a need to be extra bohemian in this environment.

business and forest fires - so Swedish

I have breakfast, sandwich and yogurt, at Sweden's largest airport while I text with a friend I'm very upset with.

It's barely seven o'clock in the morning and too early for this sort of thing. But the energy of the large airport is inspiring. I watch the 7-Eleven staff restock shelves and the security guards mutter to each other. Swedes are different from Finns. They have a directness in looking at and approaching people.

I've always been jealous of people who get to live in Sweden. I have a very romantic view of the country. To me, Sweden is idyllic country roads lined with blooming fields and red cottages. It has lakes, horses, cute cafés around every corner. It has friendly people. It has an ancient history of kings and castles. It has traditions that still echo that ancient history. It has style. And my own language is spoken everywhere, unlike the country I live in.

After just a day in Sweden, I'm seeing my life differently.

Not just because I have been in Sweden on a whirlwind visit. I have also lunched in the botanical garden in Linnaeus' own city, attended a business meeting and barely escaped a forest fire. All of these experiences seem very Swedish.

forget about ships and skirts

The queen of denim is dreaming in 98 percent cotton, 2 percent elastane and waiting for shipping approval.

It is Friday afternoon in summer. The blinds are down, the office is empty. The overhead lights keep switching themselves off, not detecting any motion.

A courier should bring me a denim skirt but he seems to be lost in Helsinki. A man should love me but he seems to be lost in space.

I should go home and forget about ships and skirts.

monthly report by the queen of denim

The month of May ...

There were weeks in the city: Hammering out thousands of subtitle two-liners, walking barefoot to the kitchen to make bitter coffee. I pulled down the blinds,visualized blindness and was blinded by a hot sun. In the office, I ruled the world of denim and wool - reconciling Swedish fashion dreams with Turkish deadline facts and putting a tea stain on a merino sweater. I got myself nerdy-cool glasses.

There was too much work. But there were also walks on the seaside path in hot weather, icecream with my icecream friend. There were parties on a balcony overlooking the bay, fueled by strawberry cider or pinot gris. I would have liked to drink wine and discuss God, world literature and the mysteries of science. Instead, we drank wine and discussed sex. Some of us sang along to the music - When you think that love is only for the lucky and the strong ... and sweet like a chic-a-cherry cola. That was OK too, because we laughed a lot and I declared myself as being "made of cobweb and birdsong". Other visitors gave me mango sweets in exchange for suspicious pills, or promised me boat trips.

There were weekends by the seaside: sun and sweet air, a hundred swans. An old lady who had to be watched over and occasionally fought with. A laptop full of jobs. Peace in my leaning ivory tower.

pomegranate day, without actual pomegranates

"As a piece of a pomegranate are thy temples within thy locks ..." was the Bible verse I dreamily quoted today. The context was a pomegranate poster and a discussion on the pomegranate's meaning in Jewish culture.

The Song of Solomon really is delicious. It also contains far more racy comparisons with the pomegranate.

a good party and the best part

There is something delicious in stepping out on the porch, at a party where the music is ringing in your ears and the alcohol is buzzing hotly in your veins, and step straight into a snow storm.

To take a break from clinking wine glasses and loud music, burlesque dancers, the heat of many bodies and your companions' shouted conversation. To feel the icy wind go straight through your flimsy dress, to see your high heels make delicate prints in the snow. To wrap a soft cardigan around your shoulders and breathe deeply. To hear only silence. To smell the winter of the North.

chemicals, violence and a governor

A day spent trawling through the legislation of Finland for no good reason. Everything from corporate law to the latest additions to the forbidden chemicals list, the construction of air-raid shelters and what happens to your maternity benefit if you die.

Now, after subtitling a TV interview on domestic violence, I'm going to visit the governor's residence.

This is not exactly how I imagined life as a translator but I'm not complaining.

boring day at the office

Meanwhile, in the garment industry, I dug through the office fridge for some butter. Behold my findings:

Ketchup
Antibiotics
Kahlua liqueur
Czech beer
Beets
Kippers
Anchovies
Sardelles
Ginger
Soy sauce
Snuff tobacco
Capers
Pomegranate-flavoured mineral water
Fig jam
Cranberry jam
Cranberry juice
Lactose-free milk
Barbecue sauce
Pickled cornichons
10 small packets of wasabi sauce
Container of something unknown with rice

There was no butter.

working with lava and beautiful corpses

Work topics in the linguistic business:


* cardigans with sleeves of different length
* spherical lava
* macros and how to record them
* Lemminkäinen's temple
* Chinese snake liquor
* Putin and a penis sheath
* a movie-making prince of Jerusalem
* speech karaoke
* atonal symphonies and how to subtitle them for the deaf
* virtual reality pornography
* Finnish swear words and their translation
* high-visibility vests
* Haheoikanalonakeikimaikaponokakainolanai and her sister Pualani
* how to be a beautiful corpse
* oyster opening
* gourmet cooking in a coffee maker
* garment care symbols
* reformed neo-Nazis
* the procreation of woodpeckers
* tomato farmers on epic road trips
* translating Swedish, Finnish, Danish, French, German, Russian and Tamil for TV (even if you don't speak all of these)

As a result, I have a very interesting search history on Google.