At home with sick child. The weater is bright and it is spring now, the daffodils in the garden are very yellow but not yet unfurled, and I’m sitting at the kitchen table, leaned over the ipad. The dress I bought yesterday for today’s family event hangs unused in the closet, biding its time for another party. The child is sleeping and I am considering another pot of coffee, thinking of the zeppelin I saw yesterday as it crossed Copenhagen, hanging low in the air above our roof, silent and huge, seeming almost magical. All these things that need doing and I just want to sit still in the Sunday quiet.
And it is April. Spring is so late this year. The latest snow is melting now, but the air is still cold and there are patches of white in the shaded areas of the garden. The snowdrops are finished, but only tips of daffodils and tulips are up and it seems like flowers are a long way ahead. Cold season has been extended too and both the little one and I were sick during the Easter holiday. But the sun is warm again and the days are longer, and down by the water there are a lot of foreign birds dropping by on their way back from warmer climates. I’m waiting for the temperature to tip above those 5 degrees C and for the soil to warm up, or at least thaw so I can clear out the vegetable beds. Gardening seems a long way away too right now. Good thing really. I’ll spend my time getting well and gathering energy while I’m waiting. Slowly planning and getting my gardening wits together again.
The daylight is coming back. I will miss seeing the sunrise from the station as I wait for my train in the mornings. (I will not miss waiting for the bus home in the dark and wet.) Today the morning sky was grey and fat with snow; the sun a golden quiet in the horizon.
Today was grey and wet – not rainy, but with the chilly, endless drizzle that makes you feel like you know what the inside of a cloud is like. No wind, just damp, and a whitish overcast sky. We pruned the apple trees anyway and I hope it wasn’t a bad move; crossing my fingers our trees will stay clear of rot and mold. K. insisted on a heavier pruning than we’ve done before and I agree with him, but that doesn’t mean doing it isn’t an anxiety-inducing thing. I was cold and happy to go inside when we stopped.
Going through my reading lists for the past three years, I realise how much I remember of the year just by reminding myself which books I read. Each title (or at least most of them) bringing up feelings, not necessarily connected with the actual work. I’ve been reading some book by Murakami every year except last year. I didn’t read all that much in 2012. Too busy. Plus I got an ipad (sigh). Also, I can’t believe it’s been a whole year since I read Chronic City by Jonathan Lethem. It’s a little funny how I really like two of the Jonathans (Lethem and Safran Foer) and couldn’t even get though Corrections (by the third Jonathan (Franzen)). (By the way, I remember telling a teacher colleague a couple of years ago that Everything Is Illuminated made me cry and she just looked at me like I was off my rocker. I honestly don’t think she could have read more than the first chapter or so (the funny bit; which was also included in the textbook she edited) because the last chapters of Everything Is Illuminated are not funny in the least.)
If I have any reading goals at all for the coming year it is to keep my hands off the gadgets and get my nose back in the books.
The darkness in January is so much darker. People have turned off the fairy lights in their gardens, tidying up after the holidays, wrapping up the candlelight of December. Suddenly we’re all in waiting. The weather has turned and it’s much warmer, the snow we had last month is long gone and yesterday I caught myself peering into the messy borders, hoping for little green arrows of snowdrops. This is a good time to eat the kale standing in the garden, still green, still upright. More soup. But not today. After a day at work there is no time or energy, so out comes the deux ex machina, the frozen pizza. There is a time for everything.
The first day of the year is spent according to the recipe of years past – eggs and bacon (the good organic kind), oatmeal pancakes, milky coffee for breakfast. Chatting to good friends who stayed the night; recovering slightly from the sleeplessness of New Year’s Eve. Cooking something simple for dinner is suddenly special; I haven’t cooked properly for days, other people providing delicious meals all through the holidays. So today it’s our good old friend, Jamie’s leek and chickpea soup (from his first book). We’ve made this soup many, many times. I cut the leeks and peel the potatoes and I hardly need to think; my hands remember the recipe. The sweet smell of leeks cooking slowly in the pan. The evening of the first day of the year rolling in from the East.
Honestly? I thought I had lost the password for this site. I did a design course and then I got a new job and we had our (short) summer vacation and there was no room for posting here at all. No room in my brain at least. Now I’ve been working full time for three months and whoosh, it’s November. I look through photos and it seems like it’s a very long time since we were on holiday in Aarhus, a Danish city, the week after Easter. Here are two photos of Our Rainbow Panorama, an installation on the top of AROS, a modern art museum, by Olafur Eliasson. We visited it twice while we were in Aarhus and then when we went back for a couple of days this summer we saw it again. It is beautiful.
I am stuck inside. The weather is lovely, but birch pollen wants me dead so I have to keep doors and windows closed. The past few weeks have been stressful and it feels strange to have a sick day. I’ve been playing with a drawing app on my ipad and I’m quite happy to be drawing a little bit again. This is a hand sewn bird that my friend made for my little one when he was a newborn.
For my birthday, K. and I had lunch in a really great French bistro (the best chocolate fondant I have ever eaten (I was very happy that day)) and they had lovely fabric napkins. I wanted to have them at home, too, so I made some. I found this tutorial for making mitered corners and I have to say it looks nice. M. really liked them and decided to borrow them to play with, so the stack in the photo is a little short.