I'm finished with my head band! Perfect for when I wear my hair up so I can't use a hat to keep my head warm. And it's alpacka wool so it's very warm indeed. And it was fun to make since it was quite intricate details on it. I'm slowly becoming more and more obsessed with my knitting.
My most advanced knitting yet is currently happening. It's so much fun! It's going to be a head band to warm my ears when I don't want to wear a hat. I'll show you the finished product when I'm done.
And they have a sale on knitting yarn at our local grocers now so I'm about to go stock up. Yay!
Last weekend two of my dear friends came and visited from London. It was a weekend of excursions and fun and laughs and reminiscing. Here are some photos from the weekend.
Göta Kanal. Where my grandparents live and where my mum grew up.
Beautiful weather!
And we went to Läckö Slott. A castle on an island in Lake Vänern. Vänern is the biggest lake not only in Sweden, but in the European Union!
Since I knitted a hat for my friend's baby I've become obsessed with knitting hats. It's a good way to use my left over yarn from my other projects. So far I've made three for myself. All very cosy and will keep me warm now that winter is here (first snow is expected tomorrow!)
I’ve taken on a project of going through all of our home made videos. When I was a kid my parents filmed a lot, not only holildays and birthday’s, but everyday stuff as well. A few years ago my dad managed to get all of it into a computer and now it is all in my computer. I’m going through them all and cutting them down to more manageable lengths and sorting them by year and event. It’s a lot of fun to sit and watch. I’ve so far gotten up to the end of 1989. Which means my brother is a funny 4 year old and I am a very blonde 2 year old. Sometimes it’s hilarious.
One bit which I got stuck watching over and over again is when we’re at my paternal grandparents house and playing in the garden. My grandfather was an amazing man, truly one of a kind. He was the epitome of what a grandfather should be. Patient. Kind. Playful. Funny. Trustworthy. Truly amazing. He passed away in April 2005 and I still miss him a lot. It’s a lot of fun to watch the old clips with him in them. He was very special to me and we were very close. He taught me so much. I love this photo of us. Absolutely love it. Probably one of the best photos I have of him and of me. Just look how cool we are
We celebrated with buying piles of cake and eating them at 11am. I don't think anyone of us had dared to hope. We all assumed the worst. I certainly did.
But medicine has done its wonders. And it's gone in the right direction. It isn't curable. We know that. But for now we've won a small (or massive) victory. Today we've been able to relax. Tonight we will sleep. Because we said a loud FUCK YOU to cancer today.
I don't think I've ever dreaded a day as much as I'm dreading tomorrow. If I don't fall asleep, will that avoid tomorrow from coming? Tomorrow we will get the verdict. If it worked or not. Not that it can ever work in the way we want it to. But I guess everything is relative. Even this.
In English people sometimes say 'I'm scared to death.' the Swedish equivalence is 'scared for my life'. My mum said that earlier today about tomorrow. And usually when those words are used they aren't literal. Rarely people are actually scared for their lives. In this case it couldn't be more literal. I'm scared for her life. I'm terrified to the extent that I'm not quite sure what to do. I've written earlier about living in my bubble of denial. Now that's getting more difficult. But I still avoid thinking about it. If I let myself do that I can feel myself falling apart.
I really really really don't want tomorrow to come. While I'm so grateful I'm home so I can be here for this, a part of me wishes I was still in London. Then I'd be far away from this nightmare.
The thought of falling asleep and having to go to the hospital tomorrow makes me nauseous. Why did this have to happen to us? To her? I am so angry. And sad. I am really sad.
My goal tomorrow? To not faint. That's what I (almost) did when we were there in June.
I was going to impress you with yet another stunning photo of the place I call home. But no. I seem to have bery bad luck currently with cameras in general, not just my proper one, but the one on my phone as well. I decided this morning when I pulled up the blinds that I was going to go up on our mountain and go for a walk/run after breakfast because the weather is amazing. And I did. Very proud that I actually did it and didn’t just stop at the thought of doing it. I took my UK phone with me so I could take some pretty photos of the lovely autumn weather since my plan was to walk/run it didn’t seem appropriate to bring my dslr. Said and done. I went for my walk (yes, I walked much more than I ran). 7.5km later I came to the end of the loop which is by a lake and it was so gorgeous I was going to take a photo. But “camera failed” is all my phone wanted to tell me and refused to take the photo! So, I’m sorry, no pretty photo from the mountain today. You’ll have to make do with another one. From our garden here at my parents house. This autumn is getting prettier by the minute. Can’t believe it’s barely rained at all since I came home now close to two months ago. (just because I wrote that it will most likely pour down for two weeks straight starting tomorrow).
On days like these I have to admit to quite enjoying my small town life. This is where I live. And I shouldn’t be surprised, not by the fact that I live here nor that it’s very beautiful. I grew up here. It’s home. Like in this photo for instance. I’ve gone skating on this small lake. I’ve been fishing in it. I’ve dyed wool in it. There’s a tiny gap between the trees on the far right of this photo. In that gap you can almost, almost, hint a buidling. That’s my primary school. So this truly is my neck of the woods. And this time of year it is more beautiful than ever.
I realised the other day that I haven’t been in Sweden in October since 2006. And I know Britain turns into various shades of yellow and orange and red as well at this time of year. But I can’t help myself, I’m impressed by what Sweden is showing me. It is absolutely stunning.
My camera has been acting up lately. It’s actually been stupid ever since we went to Italy where it decided to stop working. After having had some words with Canon however I was sent a firmware update that I just did and hopefully now it should all work fine.
I did manage to snap some photos this weekend though when we went up to Berget (which means the mountain, but it’s not a very tall mountain). It’s all very pretty right now with all the autumn colours everywhere! Might head out into the garden a little bit later and snap some photos and test if the new firmware works properly.
I don't like this period. The days running up to the next round of chemotherapy. She's so tired. And you can tell she's in pain. Although she tries to hide it. The days during chemotherapy and directly afterwards are much better. Strange how it works, isn't it? Before all of this I would have assumed that during chemo is when a person would be feeling worst. I know it's individual. But still. It surprised me.
Sixth round coming up. The final one for now. One month left until we know the results. That means one more month for me to live in my bubble. One more month of denial . And then it will be thrown in our faces.
Today we celebrated my paternal grandmother. She turns 90 on Tuesday. Ninety years old. That's really old. I want to sit at my mum's 90th birthday laughing and celebrating just like we did today. I'm hoping for a miracle. Come on science. I know you take huge steps in the right direction every day. You can do it.
Happy birthday farmor (as she's known to me. Means 'fathers mother'), you are one hell of a person. Thank you for never getting tired of playing the same board games with me over and over and over again when I was a kid. I will always love you for that.
Last summer my parents bought a house in Italy. Caramnico Terme to be exact, in the region of Abruzzo. It’s their hidden treasure, a place where they can relax and just be at peace. Last week was the first time that the whole family were there together. I’ve been once before, in October last year. For my brother it was his first visit to Italy. I took advantage of the impressive and beautiful landscape and played around a lot with my camera. Here’s a few pictures from the week, and more will follow.
Food in the seaside town Pescara. It’s about an hour drive from Caramanico to get to the Mediterranean.
Cooking in the house. Pasta with pancetta and lots of local vegetables. The mountain is part of one of the ridges that surrounds the village.
It's working quite well so far. Me, the unemployed. My mum, on sick leave. I know it's only been a week. But still.
I am loving getting to spend some serious time with my mum. And I am so glad that I can be at home. Because the option would have been to come home more frequently as she gets more sick. Because that's generally how people work. When things get really bad you rush home. But now, my mum isn't really sick. Chemotherapy isn't causing too many problems. It's still my mum that I find myself looking at. Taking in. And that I can be here at this stage makes me happy. The bad will come eventually, but that means I've still been here for the not as bad. For that, I am grateful.
She just completed her fourth round of chemotherapy today. And this afternoon her and I are going on an excursion since we have the car. Her idea, not mine. She is absolutely incredible. My hero.
I thought my white converse were in fact white. After a year and a half however it seems like they are not very white at all! They've served me well. But now it's time to say goodbye. Hopefully I won't miss them too much. Considering I today went into a shoe store and said "white size six converse please" and refused to try them on. If it's one thing I know, it's the size converse I wear.
There's a new darkness in the world.
It rolled in over the hills out of nowhere.
And now it's pressing down on us.
Suffocating.
Choking.
Deafening.
It's a different kind of darkness.
It's malicious.
Unpredictable.
Completely out of our control.
And it's terrifying.
We will stand united.
And face it head on.
Together.
This evil that has entered our world.
We will fight it.
It is us against it.
And we have everyone on our side.
I really hope that is enough.
It has to be enough.
Because the alternative is too scary, too horrible, and too unthinkable.
It's not an option.
Because then the world would end.
I'm lying in my parents hammock on their verandah. They bought it when they visited me in Mexico. This verandah is my sanctuary. This.whole house is my sanctuary. I'm lying looking out.over the garden. My 'playhouse' (a tiny cabin which i got for my 6th birthday or something like that). The berry bushes. The ruhbarb shrubs. The trees. It's raining so there's a comforting sound coming from the.roof of the verandah. This house is so familiar to me. I know every inch of the garden. It's my childhood home. And to a certain extent my adult home as well.
I love being here. Nothing feels more like home than the familiar views, sounds, and smells of this house and our street.
I can't picture a world without you. It's impossible. You have always been there. No matter what. And most likely you will continue to be. But my brain is very good at jumping to the wrong conclusions. I always go straight to the worst case scenario.
I think it might have something to do with the fact that I once was told that everything was okay. Followed by ten minutes later being told that my dear friend who was 'okay' was in fact gone for forever.
So yes. I always assume the worst.
