Spinning Words

Today I willingly woke up really early in the morning, and without an alarm clock, which is something I rarely do and only if bribed with coffee, in order to check the US election results. About 2 minutes after checking the news I just wanted to go back to bed, fall asleep and wake up to some different news. And if I thought that was the worst part of the day, the even worse one came when I ran across opinions of intelligent people who were endorsing Trump. So instead of keeping a close eye on this I just decided to work, listen to music and above all enjoy the snow.

We’ve had almost 3 days of non-stop snow here in Stockholm, and it is pointless to say that the scenery changed overnight. And this morning at 6 o’clock I was looking out the kitchen window, waiting for my coffee to get done, and just stared in amazement at the beauty of it all. Since the first snowflakes made their way here last week I have a large smile frozen on my face and the kid in me is happy. I know I will probably get this for 5 more months (add cold bitter wind and frost to it), but never in my life have I felt sad when it snowed. Not even when it happened at the dawn of Spring. It’s beautiful and makes me happy inside. And it goes well with coffee, cinnamon cookies, hot wine and cosy beds. All I am missing is a cat for company.

But with my cup of coffee I just went back to watching the news, which I couldn’t entirely ignore and just left them playing somewhere in the background. I was super curious about the results of these elections and I enjoyed the political satire created around them, the pup culture mobilisation and the logical reasoning brought to the audiences by experts, but right now I have no idea what to expect. I will start with watching the news, it’s my job in the end, and see where that takes me. I am excited to see the response pop culture will have to this and I think that, just like the time of the war in Iraq, we will have a lot of voices singing their discontent. If we don’t than there is something terribly wrong with the World. Not that the World order isn’t somehow changing already, and I restrain myself to say that it is falling apart. I somehow want to quote the great wizard Dumbledore and say “Dark times lie ahead”, just to make everything more dramatic and because I like Harry Potter. I would also feel tempted to say: OMG, WTF? But who am I to have a say in all this? Will wait and see, and especially I will watch.

And since I so thought I would simply refuse to pay attention to this today, here I am writing a blog that sounds more like one fit for my work blog rather than my personal rantingaboutwhateverIwant page. Time to stop now and add some pictures of the pretty snow and put myself to sleep thinking of all the political satire to come and the Winter wonderland outside my window. And listen to more HIM.

Middle June and who cares about a ceremony where the teacher puts a crown of flowers on your head and hands you a piece of paper called a diploma, in a boring event where you sit in the sun for hours to wait your turn, and your parents can’t even make it because they are at work, when just an hour away there is a place that has freedom written all over it. Three months of no shoes, no homework, no cares. Screw the city life, the hot pavements, playing with dolls, the TV set, super tempting when homework was in sight, ignorable when the purest and wildest of nature just waited to be conquered.

Barefoot on the lawn with shooting stars, as the song goes, those were my summers. Who needed a dress, sandals and a comb when shorts, t-shirt and messy hair were just perfect to stick your feet in the filthiest of waters in search for blackberries? Coming home stung by bees, mosquitos, bitten by ants, irritated to despair by caterpillars but still not bitten by any rat or snake or spider. Eating apples directly from the trees, all the possible berries without washing them, sharing a sandwich and tomato with your friend because both of you were hungry but none of you wanted to go home yet since it was such a great evening for fishing… then one of our parents came and we were literally dragged home just to be back on the spot the second morning. Biking through puddles, on dirt roads, up the hill, down the hill with no breaks, on river rocks, in the river, riding horse-pulled carts on an unstable piece of wood, learning how to drive one, suffering when the neighbour’s horse died, getting out of cornfields all cut by the rough sharp leaves but gloriously holding the perfect pumpkin to built a lantern, learning all poisonous plants so you know what to stay away from, splashing in the river, ending up in the middle of the cow herd and what else? I wonder how I got out of these things without any serious injury and out of some of them alive. Each of the kids had a special “seat” in the walnut tree. That’s where we were when one could hear our voices and laughter but not see us. Playing word games.

Visits to museums or European capitals on holiday? Exotic trips on beaches with white sand? Didn’t know, didn’t care, didn’t afford one either. I knew how to build my own fishing line, fix my own bike and read the signs nature would send well enough to keep myself away of any thunderstorm. It’s like when you’re out on the sea and you have to know what it means if the wind changes direction and what you have to do. Only that I was on a river bank and I knew that I have 10 minutes to get home or else I will get caught in the rain. And I knew the turkey chicks needed me as well, to get them to shelter, simply because they’re the dumbest birds ever and just sit out in the rain and get wet.

It’s not fun biking into a bees swarm but I’ve done that too. But the best part was swinging in the evening while listening to the radio. The song would go “And I would fly you to the Moon and back…” and I would go back and forth in a swing for hours in a row. Until the BBC news programme would be broadcast on the radio at 9 in the evening and would ruin my swinging to music routines. It must have been a sign showing my future: music, fun, yes, but news, listen to the news too!!! Back then it was just the most annoying part of the evening. But every now and then I was allowed to sit out and swing even after the news bulletin was over. And a few hours later my mom would have to come and get me into the house. Or I would have swung all night long, in the swing my grandpa built under the grapevine. Barefoot. Careless. Free. Those days will live with me forever and left an important mark on who I am today. Home made bread anyone? Grandma’s recipe… It’s in my cupboard, will have some for dinner tonight.