Dead Beat

I've been carrying bags and boxes, beds and furniture for a week now, and I'm still not done. Starting to see the end of it though, at least the emptying part. When the old flat is ready to hand over I'll still have the unpacking in the new one to do... Well, for tonight I couldn't care less, and right now I'm just enjoying a quiet night in front of the TV.

On one of the channels I caught a glimpse of an Elvis Costello show where Lou Reed was a guest. There they performed "Perfect Day" together. Long time since I had one myself, but the song is still beautiful, and this version I think was perfect too.



I try to do a little sorting out as well, now as I'm moving. It's a really good feeling to get rid of old crap, but it takes quite a long time checking everything. Especially when some findings lead to writing lengthy blogposts like this one. In one drawer I found a print-out of an email I sent my cousin back in 2001. Still funny so I'm sharing it with you. Consider how old it is you might have read it before.

When I was 14, I hoped that one day I would have a boyfriend.

When I was 16 I got a boyfriend, but there was no passion. So I decided I needed a passionate guy with a zest for life.

In college I dated a passionate guy, but he was too emotional. Everything was an emergency; he was a drama queen, cried all the time and threatened suicide. So I decided I needed a boy with stability.

When I was 25 I found a very stable guy but he was boring. He was totally predictable and never got excited about anything. Life became so dull that I decided I needed a boy with some excitement.

When I was 28 I found an exciting boy, but I couldn't keep up with him.He rushed from one party to another, never settling on anything. He did mad impetuous things and flirted with everyone he met. He made me miserable as often as happy. He was great fun initially and very energetic, but directionless. So I decided to find a boy with some ambition.

When I turned 31, I found a smart ambitious boy with his feet planted firmly on the ground so I moved in with him. He was so ambitious that he dumped me and took everything I owned.

I am older now and am looking for a guy with a very big dick.

Well Deserved Break

I think I made Toril proud today. She's been a little annoyed I guess, with my seemingly endless patience with people who screw me around, but today I finally said "Well, screw them!"

We met this afternoon at Dr. Livingstones for a bite and a glass of dry white. Got a perfect table, right behind a low partition wall with some flowerpots on top which provided a nice shade. The weather is absolutely beautiful these days, and thinking I'd be spending all of them locked inside packing would be a crime. Nice break, and tomorrow's another day...

Old Pics

As I picked up my son yesterday to drive him to the airport, I got a quick look inside the apartment he shares with three other young sailors. Stuck to ceiling was a picture of a little boy dressed in his best clothes. Very cute, but a funny spot to place a picture in I thought. Thomas explained that the idea was that they all get a corner each, but currently only Bruno was represented. So I went home to dig in my box containing all pictures from 25 years back...

It soon became evident that finding a picture of my son wouldn't be that easy. His sisters were present in almost every batch, but this little rascal were no where to be found. Except from a blurry one here, and a cropped one there. I guess he couldn't stay still long enough to be caught by the camera. Of course there were a few, but then mostly together with his sisters. The ones I found I'll give him next weekend when he's home again.

But searching through this box also meant I had to look a little too close on my previous life. Family life, holidays, different locations. Not saying I want it back, and besides - the kids are grown up regardless of my marital state. But it's weird to look at someone you've been so close to for so long and thinking it's almost a stranger. I can say a lot of things about my ex, but his looks has always been quite OK. Then I'm not counting that unfortunate period he wanted to sport facial hair. Not his wisest decisions, and I was strongly against it from the beginning. You see, not all men can carry off a mustache... I scanned the picture I found today, and I'll send it to my son to serve as a warning: don't even think about it! (He looks quite a bit as his father, you see...)

There was also some real old photos, like one of me, aged 4. I got the question the other day if I had any pictures of myself on the blog. No, I don't, but this one is rather cute and innocent:

Itinerant Trainee

Can you guess what I've done 17 times, within the last 23 years?

Once Bitten Twice Shy?

You know I have a thing for nasty creatures, and now it's time to talk about spiders. They used to freak me out totally. As a kid, a perfectly harmless spider would make me go ballistic, and mum or dad had to rescue me. This was in Sweden too, you know, where there are no dangerous spiders! I managed to get the fear under control as I grew older, but it wasn't until we moved to Australia that I finally took charge of it. And while the best remedy for fear is knowledge, within the first week Down Under I bought a copy of Bert Brunet's Spiderwatch. Didn't take me long to recognize which spiders to look out for, and why.

I haven't lived places inhabited by poisonous spiders for a long time now, but what I learned still sticks. First - most spider bites are the result of defensive behavior. So for example; the Redback spider (from the widow family of spiders) is a quite placid little thing and won't bite until she's absolutely pushed into a corner. Furthermore, you won't probably die from it either. Although her venom is one of the most toxic in the world, it's not that quick. As long as you get your antidote within 48 hours you'll be fine. You'll be real sick and in much pain, that's for sure, but you'll live.

Then there's the vicious White-tail spider. When I first moved Down Under, and read up on the dangers, I found out that although the bite from a White-tail won't kill you, the bite may result in a necrotic wound that would never heal. I think this was the one I dreaded the most. Feared that first sharp pain, and then weeks later developing an ulcerous wound, which would get worse and worse, until the point where the only solution would be an amputation! Due to the White-tail wandering habits he was prone to meet up on your doorstep anytime, while a Redback or any other web-weaving spider didn't stray that much. They much prefer the secure comfort of their homes.

Now as I'm writing this piece it seems my assumptions were wrong. To my defense I must say that I merely shared the view with so many others back than, and this was 10 years ago. Since than, and probably because of all the unverified cases, a scientific study has been made investigating "the circumstances and clinical effects of bites by white-tail spiders". In the Medical Journal of Australia one can read that "White-tail spider bites are very unlikely to cause necrotic ulcers, and other diagnoses must be sought". I made the emphasis here myself, 'cause while I at first was a little disappointed that this report seemed to upset my intentions of a valid metaphor, it might just work anyway. You see, I'm hurt more than I care to admit, and the wound is getting more infected everyday. But maybe it wasn't what he said after all? Maybe I should seek deeper? It might be the result of some underlying, and unresolved issues within myself?

Nah, I stick with the spider story for now. I'm tired of searching for all the answers inside. So, in line with this; there's another spider that actually seem to be able to inflict some serious damage. I introduce - the Brown recluse...

Tears In Heaven

Life is a miracle, each and every time it happens. Any form, any shape. Some lives are tragically enough shorter than they should be, and today I attended the funeral ceremony for little Charley. Nothing can take the pain away, but a day like like this can still turn out to be memory worth treasuring. Even for the parents, and closest family.

The church was almost filled, and before the ceremony started Charley's favorite songs were played on the speaker system. Many from Astrid Lindgren's books, like Pippi and Emil. A little white coffin is a really disturbing sight, here surrounded by enormous amounts of flower arrangement. I'll shorten this; no need for lengthy details, you'll get the point anyway. When my cousin sings "Tears In Heaven", real tears were flowing freely, and when the parents and aunts at the end carries their child to her final rest, I believe every one shared the same feeling - This is so wrong! No parent should have to do this!

In this spirit there has been set up a fund in the memory of this little girl. The money goes to cancer research, and the initial goal was to raise a 100 000 Sek before the fund's closing day in a years time. This morning the amount was larger than that, and it keeps rising. You can follow the fund here, and also make donations if you want to.

Of course nothing will bring her back, but knowing that so many of family, friends, neighbors and co-workers care means tremendously much. I mean, I can sort of forget about this tomorrow. The parents can't though, they have to wake up every morning having one child less. But this day, with that beautiful ceremony in the church, and all friends and family who joined later at their house for a little something to eat and drink showed them that they won't have to go through this on their own. People aren't afraid to grieve with them. We are allowed to laugh, even on a day like this. Maybe you wouldn't think so, but it's actually OK. When the mother can smile the day her daughter is buried, it doesn't mean she's not sad enough. Of course she is! But life is still there, and it has to continue. Charley's little brother is only a year old, and he deserves to grow up with a living memory of his sister, but not with broken parents. There were words spoken in church today that I think sums it all up, and which are essential to remember:

"Right now three things remain: faith, hope, and love. But the greatest of these is love."

Love and light...

A Cruel World

I'd like to pick up on a comment I made here the other day:

For new beginnings to take place there has to be endings. But some of them seem so utterly meaningless. And now I'm going to another funeral...

When a 80 year old man dies from lung cancer (or anything else) it's sad, but in our hearts we now that not all people even get 4/5 of a century to walk on earth. We know that life's gonna end one day, and hopefully the sadness and mourning can be dealt with in such a way that the rest of the life can go on. But why does a little girl, only 3 years old, have to die? I read that the survival rate for Acute lymphocytic leukemia (ALL) is 91.2 percent for children under 5, but tragically enough my cousins daughter belonged to that other small percentage. There's no consolation to offer; nothing I can do or say that will make their days any easier.

In times like these, it's good to know that we have a strong family. A family which is not afraid of feelings. (Well, most of us aren't anyway.) A family that cares. But still, this won't be easy. I really need to pull myself together here, there are people who need it now. They need to get through this somehow, and if I can help in any way I will.