Just a short note

I thought I had to just write something short to explain why not much new is popping up on this blog this autumn. Have mentioned it in a comment here or on another blog, but might as well tell you all.

First I didn't blog because I was under the weather with all that's happened these last 12 months -- and now I don't blog because I'm spending the mornings working on one of those unemployment activities one sometimes end up in. It's not easy getting up early in the mornings when you're a night owl -- and then I have a relatively long walk to the bus so I end up being a tad tired when I get home. And, also, there's less time for me to be on the computer blogging now that I don't get home until 14 o'clock every day. E-mails, catching up on blogs etc I follow and writing for my other blog takes precedence, unfortunately.

So, to conclude, I haven't abandoned this blog for ever, nor am I not writing here because I'm still feeling down or am stuck in dark and dreary mood. It's mostly a matter of time now. Hopefully I'll soon get used to my new schedule and find room for blogging too. (But then again, I keep saying stuff like that all the time and then things get in the way and I end up not blogging much anyway...)

Because I haven't shared anything silly our cats have done in ages, here's a pic for you to play "where's the cats?" with. That's Julle next by the door, but what do you think of Ubbi's new best spot for an afternoon nap? (Pic's from september: it's been a bit too cold and rainy lately so he prefers the bed now. And, yes, it's easy for him to get to his napping place, but it's been difficult for him to get back in the same way -- not that that stopped him from jumping up there again the next day.)

Cats, beads and cameras -- not a good combination!

Many things have kept me from the blog since I said I was back. Today I tried to shape up and focus on my blogs by taking some bead photos I've been meaning to get done for ages. Now that my other blog is back on schedule, I can't keep postponing it.

Unfortunately, if you sit outdoors taking photos because of the good light here, you will attract cats -- something I wrote about in this post (with pics of how it can look). Today I attracted Mimi and Figge. Mimi and photo set-ups are like moths and lamps -- she just have to get into them and sit in them! -- so I did my best to keep her and her dirty little paws as far away as possible. Which meant trying to make her lie down on the other side of the table. But while I was taking photos, she saw an opportunity to edge closer and closer. Finally, she was so close she bumped my set-up (one of these) when sitting down. You know, in that way cats do when they're offended because you don't focus on them when they want you to. Now that wasn't too much of a problem: I'm used to it and held on to the set-up.

No, the problem was when I had taken my last photo and was getting ready to turn off the camera and put all the beads back. I looked down at the camera for a few seconds -- seconds Mimi used to headbutt the lightweight plastic set-up off the table, spreading my little beads (silky beads, 4 mm cubes, 6/0s and 9/0s) on the old and dirty cracked concrete "terrace" where I was sitting. Well, not just on it: I was sitting by the edge so some beads probably fell down below -- in a field of weed, nettles and Himalayan balsam. Gaaah!

We're not going into what carefully chosen words I screamed... After banging me fist in the table, which achieved nothing but hurting my hand. Not even a satisfying loud bang. And my hand still hurts now, hours later...

Anyway, I managed to rescue most of the beads. Four silky beads are still lost as are two 4 mm lavender cube beads and an unknown, but luckily small, amount of the seeds.

I really like being able to sit outdoors, taking bead photos, as the light is better than anything I have indoors, but it sure does have its drawbacks... (For another -- not cat related -- example of this, see this post I wrote in 2010.)

So not a disaster, but it still feels like I'm having a Tycho Brahe day as I've had computer problems the rest of the afternoon. Really frustrating, headache-inducing software crashing type of problems. To top it all off, I accidentally deleted a browser add-on I find really useful when I was planning on removing another, which I suspect is causing the browser to run slowly and crash. And now I can't find it again.The computer mouse is just this far from being put in a meat grinder as it's getting inpossible to left click without it either interpreting it as a double (or triple) click or no click at all. This is the problem with living in the countryside: I can't just pop in to the nearest store to pick up a new one and ordering online cost money for shipping and take days. It just keeps getting better and better...

So a lot of time and energy focused on stuff like that instead of on blogging, editing photos etc. Still, hope to be able to show some pics soon and get back into blogging. It's also the reason why I haven't had much time to answer comments and e-mails these last couple of weeks.

After rain

Several times have I though about sitting down and writing a new blog post, but every time something has failed me. I haven't abandoned this blog, but ever since Knatti's death I haven't been in the mood to write. For one reason or another, it hasn't been the same reason every day. I've felt drained, my mind has been unhappy, laced with guilt and worries [which is what I'll call it for the sake of this blog].

It was like everything that's happened since last august piled up and Knatti was the final straw. I just couldn't find the energy for things, not for making nor for writing anything (including replies on the kind comments I got from blog readers on that last post before disappearing off the blog). Then came the extremely hot days of July that drained my body rather than my mind -- sunny summer days are lovely, but it was too hot for me. I tried several times to jump start my creativity. Usually it's just a matter of getting started, gaining momentum and then the enthusiasm takes over, rekindle the passion. But this time, it didn't really work. I haven't even picked up my camera very often, which has usually been a way of battling creative ruts with its instant satisfaction and motivation to go for walks, get the body working.

The few things I started didn't enthuse me, the results were poor and left me feeling blue and useless rather than pushing me to do something else, something more. I just got frustrated and then not doing anything made me feel guilty and tired. While I have enjoyed many of the summer days, those feelings of guilt and tiredness have almost always been there. Not always all-consuming, often almost gone or just like a dull feeling in the back of the head. It certainly haven't been a deeply depressing time and I've had some good times, but the energy levels have often been low and it's easy to forget the good days when feeling down. So despite all the good and great days, it feels like I've wasted a summer. You can't rewind time and there's always a kind of guilt in feeling you've wasted time.

Those grey clouds in my mind also affected my writing. I've posted on my other blog throughout the summer, but it was pretty much done on autopilot. A few times I felt like posting here, but the words didn't come, or I lost energy sitting down in front of the blank computer screen. I didn't feel any enthusiasm about blogging.

I have however pinned. Pinning is easy, effortless but still rewarding. I can still get really into searching for things, looking around websites for new finds etc. So pinning has kept me from feel too listless, it's given me something to do. Something FUN to do. I've also found myself getting back to an interest I've had before, but which is even more expensive than beading or cats: perfume. Especially niche perfumes. When you can't make anything else work, scents are really great pick-me-ups. They can remind one of cherished memories, happy things, favourite places, they can paint a picture for you or transport you to another place, they can calm you down or make you feel warm and cozy. In my usual way, taking up a hobby or getting a new/renewed interest in something means immersing myself. Partially it's a matter of money: if you can't buy all that you want, you can at least read up on it and that's what I've done. So far I've got a list of over 570 perfumes I want to try after reading fragrance pyramids and reviews. That's not counting the half dozen samples already bought.

Especially two of the perfumes really helped my mood. One was an aquatic/marine rose fragrance that was a great soothing, calming and cooling scent for the sunny days and one was a warm, cozy woody vanilla for the rainy and cold days and, especially, nights. Because the weather turned, not just changed a little but did almost a 180 degree turn. And not for the better.

In mid-august the tropical heat of July turned into quite the opposite. The temperatures plummeted, it started raining every day, we got the gale-force winds of late autumn and everything was just wet and chilly. It was more like mid-october than mid-august! Felt like the weather lasted for ages, but of cause it's just been a couple of weeks. Warm socks and cozy vanilla perfume has kept the grey outside from building up too much inside me, but it's still been some dreary weeks.

A few days ago, I started an autumn pinboard to try an pick myself up as I usually do love autumn a lot and at the same time the weather changed. The heavy grey skies are -- literally -- gone with the wind. Today the sun is shining, the sky is a brilliant blue only partially obscured by clouds that are more white than grey, there's just a slight, crisp wind and the last rain is now only visible as drops on the leaves and grass. The combination of the two has really brightened my mind. It still feels more like october than august, but at least it feels like sunny october days.

And that's where I'm at right now. Feeling like things are getting a little better. My mood, the weather. I'm looking forward to a beautiful autumn and I hope it'll also make me feel better. Some sunshine, crisp but gentle winds, apple picking, grape eating and forest walks is what I need now to recharge my batteries and air out all the bad thoughts -- and these are the perfect days for it now. Things feel a bit brighter now.

Crying over Knatti: part 2

There was of cause no miracle to be had. On monday morning, Knatti was even worse. It was painful to see him suffer and painful to feel like we abandoned him when he needed us near him the most. While I grieve that he had to die, what breaks my heart is feeling that he spent his last days detached from his safety, from his family and home. Someone pointed out that we always die alone, even if we're surrounded by loved ones, but Knatti also suffered his last time alone and that pains me to think of. We were of cause there when he got that final, lethal injection that stopped his heart, but those were just his last minutes. When he was so ill I don't even know if he fully understood that we were there or if he was too ill to be comforted by our presence.

Logically, I know we did the only thing that could be done to try and save his life, but it doesn't change the fact that with the outcome being what it was, this left him very alone in a strange place, subjected to needles and pains without us, those who should protect him from everything bad and soothe him when in pains, for what in a cat's mind must have been a very long time. I can't undo that, I can't turn back time. I can't even persuade myself that it was the right thing to do, the only chance he had, as I can't ignore how that decision determined how his last days became.  And I don't want anyone else to try and persuade me.

And regardless of how he died, there's also another thing: he derserved more years. He wasn't old. He was the kindest of cats, who never harmed anyone who got into fights. Life is unfair, that's just the way it is. And Knatti's short life is just one more example of that. Had life been fair, he'd still have most of his years in front of him. He died too young. That's the long and the short of it: he deserved more years. Many more years.

I posted photos of him in the last post, but missed this one, which shows how sweet he was. It's Knatti with his new baby brother sleeping by his side. He always was the kindest, the one most likely to accept new kittens -- even when they became older, more mischievous, and wanted to play (which includes things like ear biting, which often render them a slap by the adult cats, but not from Knatti). He placidly accepted them, even when more wild than the other big cats, including their moms, found tolerable. Maybe it was only fitting that he got a grave beside some of the youngest kittens in our cat cemetary.

To end this post, I've picked out a few of the pics we took last week when Julle and Knatti came with my sis and I up in the hill. Of all cats, those two are the ones that appreciated our forest walks the most. They loved tagging along (Julle, of cause, still does), not least as they got us to themselves. Two peaceful cats that otherwise are pushed aside by the tougher ones. So in a way it's fitting that the last images of him is in a place and a situation he enjoyed so much. Never in a million years did I on that day think it would be the last time I sat with him in my lap, watching the sunset and stroking his fur on a beautiful, quiet summer evening.

Oh, sweetheart...

Crying over Knatti

It feels like this blog way too often becomes a place for me to cry over cats. This time it's Knatti, sweet, shy little Knatti who has always been the most peaceful of our cats. He's still alive, though just barely hanging on, but unless a miracle happens, there's nothing more to do than take that horrible decision pet owners sometimes have to face.

Knatti went missing earlier this week and while we tried to tell ourselves he was ok, we did worry sooner than we would've with many of the others. Partially because Knatti almost always come in to us 2-3 times a day and is around the house at night, more or less regularly, and partially because he's had a history of sensitive stomach so we want to see him (and feed him) as often as possible to make sure he's ok. I haven't counted, but he was gone at least 48 hours and some more before suddenly turning up yesterday afternoon -- in such a bad condition. I've never seen a cat so dehydrated -- sure, they can be gone and come home dying, but this has happened so, so fast! -- he was in a horrible state and I don't know how he managed to make it home to us. He refused to eat or drink and there was nothing else to do, but hope the vet was in on the biggest summer holiday of the year.

The verdict was grim from the beginning: he was in such a bad state that the vet feared the kidneys were gone and that nothing could be done to help him, but put him on IV to give him a chance. Today I spoke to the vet and the news were just as bad as yesterday. Worse. The treatment hasn't worked (so far), he's not showing the improvements he should be showing at this poing, and we were told to discuss letting him go. He'll stay one more night -- and I'm so sad to have to leave him in an unknown environment for so long, being ill and probably feeling unsecure in this place with new people, new smells, new animals. After all, he came home to be near us and this is how we repay him, leaving him somewhere he doesn't understand -- somewhere that in the end can't save him. I want him at home, in bed where we could comfort him and soothe him. Unless a miracle happens now, tomorrow will be his last day.

(To make matters worse, all mom can go on about is the vet bill, which I'm paying solo, and questioning if we can afford it. If she had her way, Knatti would've been put down already yesterday to minimize both vet costs and the number of cats we have.)

*

That above is the newest pic of Knatti I have here. Have taken a few more just a few days ago, but they're on my sister's camera. Below are a few more pics, which I've shown on the blog before.

Evening addendum: I couldn't sleep well last night and when I did I dreamed of Knatti. Knatti being scared by thunder during the night, us trying to get to Knatti but being unable. Then I woke early and spent most of the morning feel sick and worried, with a big lump churning in the stomach. I tried to distract my mind during the afternoon, perhaps even try to hope for that miracle. A late miracle, but not too late. Now it's almost evening again. Last night I was at least partially able to fall asleep in the evening from the shock of seeing the state Knatti was in, the emotional turmoil, but also from feeling he was in the right hands (even if the verdict was negative already then). This night I don't know how to sleep, know that tomorrow we'll have to decide Knatti's fate and there seem to be only one thing to do. Only hours left -- and he'll spend them alone, so far from us and we so far from him.

The hardest part right now -- especially now that it's soon night -- is that he's at the vets still receiving treatment, one more dark night away, and my heart is breaking because I can't shake off the feeling that he's feeling abandoned and alone, perhaps being not just ill but scared in that strange place without familiar faces or scents (he has a blanket from home so I hope it's a tiny comfort). Facing the fact he'll most likely die very soon isn't easy, but as long as it isn't happening right now I can push it away. Right now I'm crying over him feeling abandoned and frightened by all that's happening: the illness, our taking him to a strange, unknown place and not coming back. I want to hold him in my arms and soothe him and tell him everything's going to be ok. Heck, if possible I would've told the vet I'd spend the night on the floor next to him. Not only can't I make him healthy, I can't even give him comfort because I'm not with him. It just hurts so much thinking of him so alone and uneasy. He doesn't know what's happening to him, where he is, where we are, if we'll even come back. It feels light he was lightyears away from me when he should be at home, safe. If not from illness so safe in the sense of being wrapped in love, familiar surroundings and a peaceful athmosphere.

It just pains me to think that we can't give him that now. We try to give him something else, a chance to live, but it's such a slim chance that it's hard to not just see the unease and ordeal we're putting him through by leaving him at the vet's for treatment this long. I don't want him to worry, to be scared or feel abandoned tonight. It must seem like forever to him since we left him, since we (in his eyes) left him, dumped him, never to return. He came home because he wanted to be near us, to have us help him and we did that by removing him further from us -- in distance and time -- than he's ever been.

Should I destash?

It's that time again -- a day when I go window shopping for beads and it ends up with the should-I-destash-or-not dallying that I do every now and then. As a hobbyist, I can't just buy beads all the time. Not selling anything, destashing it one of the ways I finance my bead addiction.

I've thought about doing something drastic and sell beads I've kept for some time and never used, mainly as a way to focus on the type of beads I love the most and build up a stash of beads that work well together, not just look pretty on their own. Out with the aqua fired agate rounds and rosequartz, in with the stone picasso beads and aged seeds.

It can feel so good to destash. Out with the old, in with the new. It's both a physical and mental spring cleaning. While keeping most of the stash (it's big), it's still a bit like creating a clean slate, a new start.


So why don't I destash? It's often a matter of doubting there's an interest and buying and a matter of time as it means you have to take photos, set prices, consider making bead soups or not, posting it online -- and then once the orders come you have all the administration around that. Putting the order together, letting the person know if someone else just bought that bead, wait for payment, buy stamps (which isn't that easy when living in the countryside with no bus lines and no driver's licence) and package everything. Last time I did a big destash I made a whole set of blog posts, as you can still see as I haven't taken the blog down.

I mean, it's fun too as you get money and more space for new beads. It's just that I want to feel certain it's worth all the work.

The one side I don't like about destashing is calculating the price -- and, yes, I know that with my education it should be super easy. I just hate the idea of overpricing and feel worried no one is going to buy unless I sell it cheap. Now you might say "well, why don't you go the auction route and let the buyers set the price"? But I don't feel confident that I'd get enough bidders interested -- or indeed that there'd be more than one or two finding my auctions.

One thing I've thought about is making lots -- everything from cheap bead lots to "premium style" with more expensive beads and supplies -- as it keeps the amount of work down a bit. But then I run into the problem of combining lots and making interesting mixes that'll attract buyers. I don't want to end up with people not buying because they just want one piece or two in a lot.


Unfortunately, the last three or four times I've thought about destashing I've gotten stuck in those kind of thoughts and never got around to destash. Now I feel like I can't let that happen again. I should take a day to just sit down a cull beads. Go through every box, jar and bag. Really ask myself if I should hang on to that or that bead/finding/cord. Yes, you might find that it was a good thing to save one day, but some beads will just work their way to the bottom of the stash and stay there forever unless you sell them or give them away.

Fingers crossed I get further than this old verbal rehash this time...

I ♥ bokrea

The bokrea, the annual national book sale in Sweden, started yesterday. These last years I've found it quite boring because of the dull range of books on sale, but this year I've found quite a few books. Of cause, not all are that cheap so I'll have to cull a few favourites of the wishlists. (It's partially a decision between buying a slightly more expensive book or borrow it at the library, but I do love owning books both to fill the bookshelves and to not have to worry about returning them in time.)

Yesterday we had errands in Helsingborg so we took the opportunity to visit some of the shops on Väla and the book shop at Familia, but I ended up concluded the prices were cheaper online (the books on sale are mostly the same everywhere even if there are many exceptions, but the prices vary) and just bought a couple of books at the supermarket Brännborns (Ica Maxi). One fantasy novel set in our world, one period novel set in Mozambique.

I never got around to pre-order at any online shop so I'll be heading over to a couple of them soon to make sure my favourites doesn't sell out. Some already had when I checked last sunday. The punishment of procrastination unfortunately, though I did have a reason for waiting. 

So not many books yet, but it was fun to get some of the excitement over the annual book sale event back -- and I will be shopping more online. Still haven't sifted through the sale catalogue at SF Bokhandeln -- a book shop specialising in fantasy, sf, horror and comics -- so I could still have good books to discover. Fingers crossed.

Money, you say? Well... money spent on books are always money well spent, an investment. And I did save a little just for this. Still have to rein myself in though, or I'll buy way too much. It's just so tempting!


PS! Yes, I do often wait it out, trying to keep cool and hope for the 50 % off sale price offers at the end of or after the sale. It's great -- you pic up books for almost no money at all. But last year I did that and the book I really wanted was sold out by the time I got to the shop... So this year I don't want to take any chances unless with books that are of less interest. Lesson learned!

Crocus

The crocus started to pop up through the lawn earlier this week, but it's still relatively cold and very rainy so they're growing slowly. Can't wait for them to start bloom, coving the lawns in purple, white and yellow.

You can't rewind time

The obituary was published in the paper yesterday. Roses for dad's love of gardening (the programme leaflet for the funeral has apple blossom on it, perfect as dad grew many apple trees from seeds -- and managed to get a few trees with tasty apples, which is said to be very difficult due to most apples being hybrids today).

Still hard to believe it all, it's like dad is just still at hospital waiting to get better and come home as the days can feel so normal, so like what they always feel like, but all the practicalities surrounding the funeral makes it slowly sink in I think. Choosing songs and psalms is really sad as they're either very sad songs or they make me remember other funerals.

The church bells rang for dad last week, själaringning as it's called, and it's settled by the local rev that he will be included already in this year's all saints' day/Allhelgona service despite it being before the funeral. As is common here, the tacksägelse (thanksgiving) will be the first sunday after the funeral (in other parts of Sweden the ceremony of the priest naming the name of the deceased in the sunday service is done one week after the death) -- which just happens to be Father's Day in Sweden... Not that we've ever celebrated Father's and Mother's Day but still.

And, yes, I did get shop newsletters saying stuff like "what does your dad wish for", "your father will want this" and "the perfect presents for dad this year" just days after he passed away.

And to top it off, between today and the funeral is my birthday...

Yeah, autumn isn't as lovely and exuberant as it usually is.

Rest in peace, daddy

This morning the doctors switched off the machines and my dad will now never wake up again. It was the end of the road, there was nothing more to do and his body was too damaged from lack of oxygen and every possible drug the doctors could find in their attempts to save him.

It feels like Friday was weeks ago. We've spent most of the time at the hospital seeing how things kept going back and forth. Every good piece of news about a small progress was followed by bad news some hours or a night later. At two points we were warned that he might not survive what had to be done and both times he stayed with us. But in the end, despite a -- against all odds -- successful attempt to open him up again, something happened last night and his circulation never really got better, depriving his body and not least his brain of oxygen at the same time as his organs were getting worn down from the ordeal. The doctors informed us early this morning that there was nothing more they could do, only shorten the mental torture of waiting and getting nothing by bad news getting worse and worse by taking the decision to switch off the machines. There was nothing left. At that point dad had been heavily sedated since the weekend and thus not feeling anything when his breathing stopped in his sleep.

I still can't really grasp the fact that he's dead, he's never coming back. It's been such a roller-coaster ride from better to worse to better to worse since that phone call on saturday morning. I just want to sleep and wake up, finding it was just a bad dream. When dad first got ill some years ago it was a wakeup call making me realise my parents are mortals and they aren't getting younger, but it still felt like something to worry about first many years into the future: dad is still just 72. That's no age today. It's just so not right that he, who was so active and never smoked or was a couch potato, got so ill to begin with. Others his age are still vital and full of energy.

No, in a way I don't think this will really hit me until the funeral. Right now it's all just confusion with a day that seem like every other day if I look out the window or switch on the computer/telly or hug the cats -- but then again it isn't. It's a horrible day that's changed something forever. And it can't be rewound or undone.

It's unreal and horrible and so hard to get into my head.

On a practical note, I just wanted to say thank you to all of you who have written and a special thanks to Allie (I've read it, but please forgive that I not yet feel well enough to write you back -- I will soon). I'll take some time off now, which means I'll probably read blog comments and e-mails at some point, but will probably not write back in my upset state. Perhaps I'll read blogs and pin just to get my mind of things, but I won't be very mentally present so please bare with me. Soon we'll need to take care of the practicalities and it might deepen my sorrow as it really sinks in. Writing helps me a lot, but not all is suitable for a blog, especially now before everyone has been informed (my aunt is informed, my poor aunt who lost her father in the 50's, her sister in cancer in the 60's, her mother in the 70's, her husband a few years ago followed by the death of a dear neighbour and now her baby brother too).

I don't know what to say or do. Right now I just want to go to sleep and wake up and everything will be back to normal. But I know it won't.

Long day at the ICU -- and it's not over yet

Right now I'm really hoping our relatives and friends of the family doesn't know about my blog because what I'm about to tell you is nothing they've yet been told. Why? Well, frankly because at the moment we can't cope with the questions and worries they will have. But having no close friends, I just have to talk to someone, even if it means just writing it down.

Yesterday, my dad had to go to the ER after a night of vomiting, which also finally resulted in a fall from the bed as he tried to get up, way too weakened by the sickness (and a background of weak muscles after his last bout of illness). At the ER, they discovered a severe case of ileus -- something he's had issues with before but never this bad -- that required emergency surgery or he would not survive it. Very bad, but still it seemed ok as it was discovered and he was in surgury.

At 4:30 (AM) we got a call. Never a good sign. I was a sleep, but my sis had heard the phone and I woke seeing here in the lit doorway saying "they say it's much worse than initially thought" and that we had to go to the hospital immediately. A lot of thoughts race through your head in such a time, especially the one obsessive thought I often have about people undergoing more or less complicated surgery in general: he's going to d** (I can think that word, but never say it and writing is saying). You can think that quite a lot of time on the hour drive to the hospital, an hour that felt like seven.

At arrival, the man at the ICU told us that about half an hour before our arrival dad was showing signs of improvement, but at the time they called us the honestly feared they were losing him. However, all is not over. On the time we spent there, some things improved slightly, but it's still very, very critical. The next 24 hours will determine if he'll make it through. They said that at 6 this morning so there's still time left.

After discussing with our mom, my sis and I got home to feed the cats (trapped indoors, but with some dry foods and water) and generally just try to calm down. Still critical so one one hand the exhaustion of the long day makes my body and brain scream for bed and telling me sitting in a "next of kin room" isn't helping my dad (he's heavily sedated) -- and on the other I feel awful for not being their in case -- every fibre in the universe forbid -- he gets worse again.

Just got home perhaps and hour ago and the head is buzzing, the stomach turning upside down and my legs shaking as it has since 4:30. Mom will call if something happens and I doubt I'll be sleeping for another 16 hours unless from pure exhaustion.

Asking for positive thoughts and prayers feel strange, partly because I'm not religious and don't believe in it in that way, but who am I to say directing positive energy towards a person isn't useful. I'll try anything for family members in need of it. If you could find it in your heart to do this for my dad I'd be ever so thankful.

This is all so unreal. And so unlike previous visits to the ER because even at its worst when it was very close, it was just close and never felt like it could end really, really bad as this can. This can't be the end! I can't allow it to be the end! Dad is very, very critical but surely being stable at that level is a good-ish sign, right? It might sound odd as I can constantly think about the result being the worst and think about practical things it would involve, but at the same time it's kind of not sunk in. It wasn't until writing those last sentences that I shed my first tears over this. It's all just so awful, so terrible wrong and unreal. I want to sleep it off, I think that's what my head is trying to say rather than I need sleep due to exhaustion, but the thing is... I also know that when I wake up tomorrow it won't just have been a bad dream. It's happening here and now, whether I'm down in Helsingborg seeing it or not.

If you excuse, I'm going to go hid in my bed now, hugging as many cats as I can find.

The old newbie box

I recently picked down this box from the top of the cabinet and dusted it off. It's been a long time since I was even near it. The last time I handled it, it was only to put it away.

So what is it then? You might guess from what you can see in it (and even more from the name of this post). It's a box of some of my first jewellery, much of the stuff I made during the first couple of years. Some of it I'm still proud of, some is very average, some is nice and some of it is just plain awful or embarrassing now that I can see weaknesses and lack of skills that I couldn't when I made the pieces (and were proud of them). Just like it should be in many ways: the box illustrate my learning curve, the different materials and techniques I explored and some of my creative ideas and playful challenge entries.

But I didn't just pull this box out for the nostalgia. Facing this mess of jewellery of various quality, the question I ask myself is: should I keep all this or should I take some of the weaker and/or less important pieces apart?

Now, I'm one of those people that tell new beaders to keep all their finished pieces so they can use them to see their progress, which is hard to do without concrete examples from different stages in the journey. If not possible to keep a piece, then at least document it by taking photos and saving in a folder for the same reason.

But how much is useful to save and how long is it useful to save it? I mean, some pieces are very important to me as the are the result of something important I learned. The first bead-woven piece, the first advanced wirework piece, that piece that made it feel like I'd found my style, the first piece to win a prize in a contest or challenge, the first piece with an advanced design made 100 % by me and so on. And to that can be added pieces that have special memories attached, the result of a fun bead forum challenge or a piece I made for a special occasion (like the Charred tears necklace I made after one of our cats died).

I should perhaps also add that this box do not include my favourite pieces that I wear now and then, it's just the "leftovers" so to speak. And the forgotten pieces -- I did for example find a pair of earrings I'd totally forgotten about even though I was so pleased with them back when I made them! Which tells me I really need to go through this box and sort out more favourites that deserve a better place.

But the question remains what to do with the rest. Keep it in the box as memories? Take them apart and reuse or destash the beads (still have photos of most)? Back in the box of out of the dusty, partially forgotten box for good? Of cause, it's matter of looking at each piece and decide: a keeper or a source of beads for a new project?

I have no idea how many pieces I can bare to take apart. It's normally not something I enjoy, but I do also realise that I can't keep everything, especially if it's just to sit there in a box totally forgotten and only seen by the occasional invading spider. These are often pieces that aren't good enough to give away to whomever wants it despite any flaws or weak designs -- and definitely not good enough to put up for sale should I finally take the step to sell my work. So there are just two options, to keep or to take a deep breath and tell myself it's ok because now the beads can be used for better pieces.

Maybe I end up finding reasons to save each and every pieces seen in these pics, but even when first opening the box I saw a few pieces that made me cringe and think they were a waste of good (or at least ok) beads. There should be a reason for saving something, just as there should be a reason for not doing it. It's a bit daunting and I have very mixed feelings just sitting here writing about it, but I think in the end this is a good thing to do.  Even if I end up putting everything back or if I fight my feelings of guilt about taking a couple of the pieces apart for something new (or for giving away/selling). *sigh*

It's funny how I, upon taking the box down, was so set on culling the "collection" and how the thought now makes me so hesitant. The thought of taking apart some pieces that I don't like and barely even remembered that I had, pieces that I, in some cases, didn't even like when they were made. Harder to let go than I thought...

You know you're a beader when...

... you have the nightmare I just had last night. Now, I don't normally chat about my dreams, but this one was sort of fun in retrospect. Or weird depending on if you are (or understand) a beader or not.

It was a simple, short dream/nightmare. It all started with me coming home only to realise that someone had broken into the house. The thieves had gotten in through the door to the "bead room" and had taken all my beads and the cabinet with all my paints. Probably also my tools and fabric and yarn stash, but I don't know as I was so upset by the loss of the beads. It was horrible, like the worst thing imaginable. And here's the thing: they'd only entered the bead room and taken my whole bead stash. Nothing else. The other rooms where fine and not one other thing was taken. But they'd taken my beads! My stash that I've been gathering for years and which mainly is made up of modern seed beads and czech beads, but also include some unique vintage beads, antique 30/0 seeds, unusual pendants and hard-to-find components. It was such a nightmare. I'd been less upset if they'd taken the telly, computer and credit card! I was really grieving the loss of the beads. Completely forlorn.

And then I woke up, happily realising it was just a dream and that I still have my precious collection of beads in the room below. So relieved!


Now, in retrospect I have to wonder what kind of thieves steal acrylic paints and glass beads but not flat-screen tellies, jewellery and money/credit cards. Not that we have much fancy stuff or expensive jewellery, but even a stupid thief would surely nick a gold-plated necklace thinking it was precious metal rather than stack up on craft supplies, right? In fact, I've even thought for myself that I'm not afraid of burglars because they would never understand the value of my bead stash (which is the most valuable thing I own pretty much) and thus leave it alone. But maybe there are burglars who bead or just have learned to spot an expensive finish on Delicas and identify fancy vintage swarovski crystals? I hope not!

The bead budget rant

Ok, so now that I'm well again I can afford to complain about my illness or rather what it did to my wallet. Now, first of all consider yourself warned after my use of the words 'rant' and complain': this is a somewhat whiny post. Short but whiny and full of self pity.

The frustrating part for me right now is that I have to completely redo my personal budget and plans on shopping this autumn as the cost of both Ubbi's and my illness (doctor/vet visits + meds) came out of my bead budget (which some of you at least knows only is refuelled when I have my seasonal job during spring and summer). Now, one could say I've got a lot of stuff already and it might just be good to dive into the stash and work with what you have, but you do need a little injection of new stuff every now and then -- and sometimes you need something specific for some projects, something you can't substitute. And add to that that there are things I've planned on buying for a long time, which makes me a bit disappointed now that I'm not sure I can afford it anymore. And I wanted to buy the new swarovski pearls because, you know, purple.

Just to taunt me, I got a sale catalogue from Panduro while ill. Gah, interesting bits and bobs for really reduced prices. (Though I rarely order because of the shipping costs anyway so my dented bead budget has little to do with my "torment" over whether to shop or not in this particular case).

So while I'm happy that both Ubbi and I have recovered and you can't put a price on that (it wasn't super expensive anyway, just felt like it because my budget is so very tight), I do feel somewhat down about what it did to my bead budget (not just beads despite the name, obviously, it also includes tools, embroidery supplies, paints etc). I'm an addict, I always want more and find it hard to resist a lot of things. It can be frustrating to have an idea, but having to stop halfway because there's something missing you can't buy. Saving up to buy something later is a real treat and so now it feel a bit like I've been cheated on a promised treat.

Of cause there's still a bit of the budget left (I think), but right now I'm feeling sorry for myself and see more of what I've lost and less of what I still have left. It'll change and I know how to live on a small budget even when it unexpectedly gets smaller, but I've had some big expenditures these last couple of months and it'll just take a little time to get passed the feeling of money just pouring out of the wallet. Just need to rant a little, vent it so I can get it out of the system and move on.

Just a quick note

UPDATE: Forgot to say thank you everyone who has commented on the news of Mini's passing, it's been very appreciated! He sure was feisty and almost drove some of our other loved cats away, but still he was our beloved little kitten at heart. Also, thanks for you comments on the blog hop -- still have more than a third to go but I'll get around sooner or later!

I just wanted to say something about how things are with me in case I've seemed down for the count. I'm still ill. Got to the doctor on late friday afternoon and after seeing my test results he immediately put me on penicillin (now, depending on what country you live in that might mean nothing, but in Sweden doctors are very aware of the resistance issues and do not prescribe stuff like that without good cause). Took my first pill that night, but still waiting for the magic to happen -- and I don't mean what penicillin apparently do to my stomach (never been on it before).

Anyway, not being able to sleep a whole night due to cough and not having been able to eat normally since last wednesday I'm really feeling tired and weak now. And just like I'm having a major cold but with the mucus all in my airways instead of  nose (yuck). I thought the former was bad, now I know better! At least then you can reroute the oxygen intake so to speak, skip the nose, and it stops at night. Coughing is almost the other way around. My favourite thing to do when ill, be it a headache or upset stomache or cold or whatever, is to sleep it off. Now I can't to that. The sleep-on-your-back-and-losen-every-muscle routine that's fab with a headache causes me to cough these days.

So I'm really hoping this little miracle of a medicine, penicillin, will help me soon. Right now it's up and down and I feel better in the morning than in the evening. It might just be a silly little bug, but it sure knocked me right out, leaving me tired and unbalanced (a few hours ago I cried watching Time Team as they found neonat burials -- and then again when the coast guards in Alaska rescued a bunch of people in horrible weather -- I'm misty-eyed but this was just beyond even my normal standard). And don't even ask what happened when I fed the cats yesterday, unable to heard them with my special food chant. I can't do sing-song shouts now, which not only tell the cats it's dinner time, but also call them back from places they aren't allowed. Very frustrating. So very frustrating, especially when no one else offers to help out.

All in all, I'm really not up to being social right now or ever being online asocially. Depending on how much of a fight this bug will put up, I'm not sure how much e-mail, blog or any other time I'll muster with. If there's no update on Manekis Pärlblogg on Thursday it's because I only got to wednesday before it got all too much. No post on thursday shouldn't be alarming, just means I messed up a schedule post saying the blog is on hold due to health issues. Doesn't mean I'm doing worse, just that I'm still not back where I want to be yet.

Cat photo of the week -- the "poor Ubbi" edition

I'm always late with Meowy Monday these days so I guess no ones missed it. However, there was a special reason I missed it this week: all time and energy has been put into Uggi, who fell in on Friday. Playful, vigorous Ubbi was gone, all that was left was tried, indifferent Ubbi. At first it wasn't anything out of the ordinary, just an upset stomach and a refusal to eat due to that, but what was less than ordinary was that time and the usual tricks didn't solve the problems. He got worse and we were really worried, even after it got a bit better last night and this morning. It may have been just a few days, but trust me, it felt like weeks.

At last, we got an appointment at the vet's today and he's now got medicine, a nutritious paste to boost his appetite (he loves it!) and a round of iv fluid to hydrate him. Oh, how he hated that, but not as much as he hated getting his temperature checked! Poor sweetie! And to that a sunny, relatively hot day in and old car without modern ac to cool him down. But hopefully this horrible ordeal will have him back to his old self real soon. (Same can't be said for my wallet, but you can't put a price on a pet, of cause -- and it could've been worse in terms of cost.)

So all in all, he's tired from the stressful afternoon today, but after a good rest he'll hopefully keep getting better and better (and his poo less and less stinky; right now the stink level is biological warfare). I can already see signs that he's more interested in food and he loves his new paste and the egg yolk part of his diet. We should've been more observant regarding dehydration from the beginning, especially since dad has often shown us the severity of the issue the last year or so, but cat symptoms are often somewhat hidden and we saw him drink -- just not enough to balance the loss of fluids in the beginning of the illness.

I've been really stressed, upset and worried, but today I'm just relieved. Tired and relieved. He started showing signs of getting slightly better even before going to the vet today and now with the meds I just feel safe knowing he'll soon be back to this:

Jinja might not agree, not with that particular kind of "back to his old self" anyway...

PS! Because of all this, I'm also running late on my schedule for the Challenge of Travel, which will be revealed on saturday. Or should be, I should say as it might be a matter of racing against the clock while caring for a sad little cat at the same time. But I hope to have something to show at one point or another during the weekend.

Not cancelling Meowy Monday, it's just...

There's been no Meowy Monday post this monday either. Of cause I've often missed the monday, posting some other day instead, but last week there was no cat photo post and today I didn't have time/feel like doing one either. Not giving up on them, though, it's just temporary -- even if beginning to slip like this is often the first sign of giving up.

Now, you can ask why I write posts like this. Why do I feel the need to promise to do better, to slap myself on the fingers in public? Surely, this is my guilt-free blogging blog, my personal space where I do what ever I want to do and you, my dear reader, is just a guest enjoying the visit, not my boss demanding something from me. Still, I feel a sort of responsibility, that blogging is some sort of contract where I've offered to serve you something and not doing it is being a bad hostess. If the cats is one of the things that made you come here in the first place and perhaps add my blog in your reader or subscribing via e-mail, then I want to give you those cats. It's not like it's a huge thing. The only bad thing is really that I on one hand want to excuse myself for being such a bad blogger, that is a bad hostess for you my guest, and on the other hand I just think excuse after excuse looks bad -- worse than just letting the blog be deserted for a few more days. (Also, part of the issue is probably more subconscious, that lack of blogging is showing my lack of mojo, exposing my drained creativity and my low energy levels.)

But, hey, let's talk about something else. Because feeling uncreative -- exasserbated by a few projects that failed when transformed from sketches on paper and ideas in the head to a tangible object -- doesn't mean lacking ideas. Just a few minutes ago I got this urge to make a needle book. It's not a new idea, I've had it on and off for ages, it's just that I can't decide on the shape, size, number of "pages", how to organize the needles and all those other practical details you need to know before starting the project. It's just that today I got a new vision for my needle book, partially inspired by the new take my book pinboard has taken since I began including journals/notebooks and handmade books on it.

Like with most things, once I get interested I get very interested (apparently a common trait in introverts). Not crazy obsessed, but it's like my curiosity and drive to learn more -- which got me to university and would've kept me there if I could get student loans forever -- fusions with my hoarding/collecting genes and I gotta catch 'em all (no, I'm not into Pokemon at all, it's just that it's the perfect phrase for how my brain works once it gets interested in something). In this case it means that I don't have one of two packs of beading needles -- I have at least half a dozen different once, some never even used: the common long beading needles in threes sizes (10, 13, 15), curved beading needles, sharps/embroidery, ballpoint embroidery beading needles, twisted/collapsible eye needles, big-eye needle. Plus a small collection of embroidery needles (actually a silk ribbon embroidery needle sampler) and an array of cheap needles accumulated since childhood or "borrow" from mom's stash of assorted sewing needles.

Leaving the general embroidery and sewing needles aside, that's still quite a few needles to fit in the needle book while still leaving room for new additions. Ok, needles don't take up that much space, but you need to fit labels and organize the needles in a logical way, which demands free space around the needles too. And since I want to do an awesome needle book, I want to be able to use it for all my needles for a long time. It needs to be flexible enough to have room for needles I don't use today, but might need to buy in a few years' time.

Having never done a needle book or hard-cover book/journal of any kind, I feel like it's not just about sketching on a design, but about learning new techniques and all the tips and tricks behind making a durable, good looking needle book just the way I want it. This is definitely a long term project!

A gentle reminder

Ha! That's a bit how I feel right now. "Turn off the computer -- make art!" A little something I stumbled over on Pinterest one day and which is usually so true. Through, I like to make digital art so it's partially not relevant to me -- and sometimes it's rather "stop re-reading that magazine for the fourteenth time and go create".

And then there's the times when you're on the computer and lack the energy to take care of the stuff you should take care of, like replying to e-mails, and end up doing other things and perhaps even use the "get off the computer and to something useful" exhortation to procrastinate all those online chores.

Then I get off the computer and can't get anything started. Perhaps end up on the bed re-reading something as I've felt I didn't have the money to get something new to read (and can't get to the library, which doesn't have the books I want to read anyway). Which is pretty useless and I keep feeling that's precious time I should make better use of -- reading new books or creating something.

I know I've blogged about that before, how I keep losing that important start button. That I love sketching and planning, love creating and love being in the "embroidery flow". But that I'm rubbish at starting. Especially without deadlines. There are many reasons: feeling stuck in life, lacking the right spark (e.g. goals), frustrations as some ideas doesn't work out once beginning to realise them, getting ideas that require buying supplies I can't afford, wanting to keep certain supplies for "that special project" (not using them as they'll run out) -- and despite not feeling at all creative lately there's still a bit of  Buridan's ass issues.

But, hey, I'm not totally useless -- I just made that digital image above. The text isn't brilliant, the way it's added, but I sort of like the rest. And with creating, especially when in a rut or feeling rusty, it's more about producing that about the final product.

It does, by the way, show how I've started to more and more embrace blue -- a colours I've never really liked to work with before. I recently shocked my sis by having bought beads in several blue shades. She didn't expect that! (It's really thanks to my favourite colours purple, green and copper, which all works so well with many blues.)


You know what? I'm getting off the computer now. To go make something? Maybe, maybe not. But doing something else is always a step in the right direction. Moving slowly might seem useless, close to doing nothing, but you will eventually reach your goal. That's a big difference from standing still once you've come far enough to look back!

Meowy Wednesday I guess

Ok, I'm behind on many things right now as we pretty much out of the blue started harvesting last week, meaning I had to change many plans -- and get used to getting up at 6 in the morning. 6 in the morning is not a time that exist according to me! And then on top of that I've caught a summer cold. Ordinary people get colds when it is cold, I instead have now gotten two colds when the weather got warm. Summer, sun -- and a cold.

So if you're waiting for me to reply on a comment or an e-mail and wonder why I haven't, that's why. I'm on it now. I hope. We're having a day off today to let the potatoes grow a bit so this is a rest-and-catch-up-on-the-same-time day. And one way I'm catching is by finding some cat photos to post. It's mostly been cat photo blog posts lately it feels like. Hopefully I'll be mixing it up a bit more soon.

 Well, at least I've got some new pics for you. Taken today. Uggi was hiding in the grass and he was so cute I tried to get some photos of him. Which worked pretty good although he saw me sneaking up on him and decided to attack first. Then he found Knatti and I could take a few more close-ups.

Back from the potato fields

I've finished the potato planting for this year -- just in time for the BSBP reveal tomorrow. Wouldn't you believe we managed to be free on the days the sun shone and work the days it was windy, drizzling -- or both. Working indoors it would've been perfect, being able to enjoy the sun on the days off, but working outdoors you pretty much want the opposite. Especially when the drizzle wasn't enough to bind the soil, which sand blasted us when it started to get windy. On the first field, we have trees that stop some of the wind. Not so on this second field, which is much more exposed as it's basically on a hill with some bushes rather than a forest between us and the wind.

But I'm not whining too much: it's work and I desperately need the money. Partially to buy beads and supplies. And there are worse jobs. Good thing about manual labour of this kind is that at least your mind is free: my hands work and let my mind focus on whatever I like, e.g. design ideas, what jewellery or embroidery techniques to try next, ideas for new stories (though I rarely write fiction these days), planning the economy -- everything. Not all have that luxury in low-income jobs.

And some days there's time during the lunch to take a nap in the sun or go for a walk with the camera, which I did on the last day (wednesday). I'll show those pics after the BSBP. Haven't shown pics of that part of the neighbouring hamlets before so I hope a new view will be interesting despite the lack of greenery what with spring being so cold.

Since last blogging about sunsets and spring flowers (meowy monday tuesday doesn't count), I've also got quite a few photos of both from the last couple of weeks. That will hopefully also be something that'll appear on the blog soon. I'll leave you with a couple of photos I took the other day. Hope you like them.

View towards Västra Karup (which you can't see as it's downhill) with Kullen peninsula at the horizon.

 

Pond with a tiny island where the anemones are blooming.

 

The potato field with one of all the bronze age burial mounds in the background.