And this is how it starts...

Someone had left this plant and moved on.
It was looking fairly rough when we moved in, and I had no plans to do anything about it.
So I pretty much ignored the poor thing for the first few days.

Then the falling leaves and parts turning from green to unhealthy-looking brown melted my heart, and I gave it a pint of water.
Then I started turning it around, so that all the branches would get some of the rare sunlight.
Now I say a few affectionate words to it every time I go to my balcony, and ask if she needs a drink.

I suppose I should've known this was going to happen...

We went into town today, just to buy a few bits and bobs for the flat; clothespegs, ironing board, and similar very rock'n'roll stuff.
Decided to have a look around the poundshop, and found little flowerpots and little growing-kits for different herbs and flowers. I picked up the sunflower one, and as soon as Himself went to meet up with the band he's teching for tonight, I dug out my gardening gloves (which I got for Christmas two years ago, and thought I'd never use) and planted the little ones.

Then I sat down beside them and gave them a talk.

So here we are now.
I'm surprised enough about the fact that I wanted to plant something, never mind the talking part.
The nestmaking-mode is on; I'll better take advantage of it and do some more organizing and laundry.
If you don't hear from me soon, I'll either be staring at my flowerpots, hoping to see some signs of life, or I have fallen into the washing machine! :)

Home sweet home

We have pretty much settled in and the place is starting to feel like home.
I spent the first few days cleaning; First in the old flat, then in here and after that I went and cleaned up at the other workplace.
While scrubbing the cupboards here I thought about the big questions of life, like:

-Why would someone buy lots of little glasstables which aren't actually tables at all, but 'candleholders' ?
- Does anyone actually own that many candles?
-Who took the pairs of most of my socks during the move? Did the little guy who steals them from the washing machine expand their business to cover moves as well, or is it someone else?
-Why would anyone think the next person moving in is going to want their empty jars and bottlecap-collection?

I still haven't found the answers.
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Remember when I said we got a bit of sunshine?
Well, that little bit lasted for a week. So we've been basically living in the balcony.
The shops were sold out of charcoal and cheap sunblock, and there were thousands of barbeques across the country.
We had a little BBQ on Tuesday instead of a traditional housewarming.
Then on Friday we were invited over to AG's house for another one.
(Two BBQs in a week is quite wimpy; some dude we met said he had attended 5 during the sunny stretch)

Yummy... :)


I've also done something I never thought I'd do:
I've gone to the gym twice. My arms ache, my abs ache, my legs are stiff... but I feel so happy!
Now if I could just manage to keep the motivation up...

Sneak preview

As you can see, we are finally having a bit of sunshine!
I take it as a good omen, since today is also the day our move really started. We got the keys, and went to check the place out without the running commentary of the estate agent.

And I've already told Himself I'm taking over this balcony. The little corner with a bit of light is so going to be my territory!
My mind is already flying into plans of barbeques and nursing the little rosebush back into health. But we're not quite there yet. So I better go and continue packing. I'm hoping to be off from work tomorrow, so that we'd get everything done...

We're both tired, but the general mood is good. Himself is cooking and singing, and I might just let out the little tune that is playing in my head as well... "Lovely day, lovely day..."

My week in pictures

I hope you understand why I've been pretty much out of bloggy-action in the past few days...

I found a dress to wear to the thingy on Monday.
My facial expression wasn't very ladylike, so I left the whole thing out.
Handy that...

The county organized a civic function in honour of the Blizzards, for their work in music and carrying the county's name around Ireland and abroad... (I was thinking aloud, and Himself's comment was: "Straight to Hell?") They got scrolls and pats on the back, we got free glasses of wine and some cheese on sticks. Hooray! And, of course, we got to witness a bit of history in the making.

And once we recovered from that, it was back to business. Mainly packing. The lady in the charity shop was very happy to see me arrive with the two bags above. I think I'm her new best friend... :D

Most of my life in seven boxes.
My drums look like a giant cake, stacked up like that... Mmmm, cake...
Sorry about that, packing makes me hungry. I better have some dinner, before I run into the corner and start nibbling the drumskins.
See you later! (The next time I might be writing from the new HQ)

Finally, maybe, hopefully

A while ago I wrote about wanting to move, and I think the time has finally come.
We've been looking at ads for flats for a few days, and viewed two of them over the weekend. They were both two-bedroom places, and both lovely. But I think we've made a decision.
And I think the place is pretty much ours; all we have to do now is to get the chance to ask a few questions and sign the rental agreement.

...And talk to our current landlord/agency. Not looking forward to that, but it has to be done.

I hope everything goes well, I'm just so excited about the thought of having more space. Obstacle courses are fun, but the novelty wears off if you have to complete one every time you want to plug in your computer or simply go and sit down on an armchair.

I'm trying not to get too excited though, since my experiences with agencies haven't been the best in here. But I woke up this morning from a dream about lovely apartments and my brain was in an overdrive staright away... "What do I need to do first when we move? Clean up the balconies... oh, I'd love to plant some parsley...have to figure out where to put the drums..."

I'm hopeless.
We'll see how it goes. And I'll try to keep my head firmly focused on todays meal, finding dry socks (it was raining the whole day yesterday = about a hundred sock-changes) and going to work.

Soup with shooting stars (and targets)

The reason I haven't been writing in the last little while, is my re-warmed affair, which has finally gotten out of hand. Completely.

I can't stop thinking about my new old love, and find myself wanting to spend every moment of the day with them. I can't concentrate at work, find it hard to fall asleep and walk around with a goofy grin on my face. I think it's love.

Himself is getting sick of listening to me, even though he is nice enough to pretend he doesn't mind. And in a way he's happy because I'm happy again. And at this stage I should probably say, that I'm not getting hot and heavy with some fella I found last weekend. (Himself is a patient man, but not quite that understanding!)
I'm talking about the oldest love of my life: Cooking and baking.

I'm buying new cookbooks, re-reading old ones and changing old recipes to suit my mood. I usually have at least one recipebook with me at work, and I keep making menus for the weeks to come. Yesterday I started baking as soon as I got up. And was a few minutes late from work, because I had to wait for the last buns to come out. Handily enough, I could bribe my boss with homebaked apple pie. :)

I'm trying to balance it out by reading Ann Rule's crime files. It's not working that well, really.
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On Friday we went to see a new local band, who released their first single. Luckily I didn't have to pay for the ticket, as they were fairly average. And we're betting they're probably going to be huge and sell at least gold.
(My theory is, that to become a hit you have to either
a) Make up a name no-one understands/is able to pronounce
or
b) walk around in your underwear/as little clothing as possible
The band mentioned have both things sorted; Definitely hit material!)
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Himself was shooting on Saturday and came second in the competition! Their team won! I'm always so proud when he does well in those things. I told him there's no coming home without medals of some sort, and he brought back two.
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I better go and finish making the soup (leek & chickpea, Jamie Oliver's recipe)
Yep, I think I have a new addiction....

The "High on chocolate" -post...

Ok, I have to confess and get it out of the way: I smoked on Sunday. It was a stupid thing to do, after a week without any. I'm quite disappointed in myself. :(
But I'm back to being good and learnt something from it.
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We had our Easter egg hunt yesterday. All that was left in the shops was a bag of tiny Kinder Bueno ones, so that's what I got. Himself very patiently hid nine of them all over the flat; on top of lights, into my make-up basket, into trinket boxes and into the jar of pens. Meanwhile I was laying on the sofa, under the blanket with my eyes and ears covered so that I wouldn't get any clues.
Himself followed me during the search and laughed at me most of the time. Can't blame him, I'd say it was some sight; Me climbing on top of things, jumping up and down to check the tops of the doorframes and lifting and moving every single thing on the tables and windowsills.
I found all of them. Just ate the last two with my tea a while ago.
I think that will turn into a tradition. And next year I'll try to remember to buy the eggs on time.
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We've been watching 80s movies lately. A friend of ours was shocked because I hadn't been educated in the area of 80s films and brought over a huge pile of them. Yesterday we watched Ferris Bueller's day off and Money Pit. And there's still a few to go... And yes, I have to watch them all. Knowing this particular person, there's going to be a pop quiz when we return the DVDs. :)

In search of Easter traditions

I just realised, that we don't have any Easter traditions.

I don't think my family used to do anything special, and Himself's family definitely don't make a big deal of it. But all of a sudden the pictures of lovely lamb dinners made me want to start a new tradition.

Yesterday I tried to tell Himself (half jokingly) that we should think about his soul and not have a drink on Good Friday. His answer was: " I think my soul is pretty much f***ed, living in sin with a protestant." So we called a few friends and had a few cans.

I think we need to go with something non-religious, informal and different with this tradition thing, like...
...Annual Easter egg hunt. Himself can hide the eggs and I'll do the searching and eating part.

Right,I'm off to the supermarket to check the egg situation! Have a happy Easter!

Finally some me-time

Progress report from last post: Himself and I are friends again.
I don't do mad for long periods at a time. We talked (which is to say I talked and he listened like a good man he is) and after letting out some steam I was fine again. Kind of. And that's good enough.

The reason I have some time for myself is that Himself is gigging tonight.
I got home after ten and was too tired to go anywhere, so I sat on the sofa with a book, some chocolate and the good old laptop.
It's been nice just to relax and let the thoughts run circles in my head, without saying a word to anyone. I've had time to listen to all my favourite songs, read without interruptions and even dance a bit on the way to the cupboard (to get more chocolate).

My brain is not in gear at all, so I'll just continue my pyjama party for one until Himself gets home. Working again tomorrow, off Monday. Can't wait.

*Now playing: Scissor Sisters - Laura*

Dreams, tears and language barriers

Last night I dreamt I was home. In Finland, that is.

That was the first time I had such a dream without it being a nightmare. The last time I dreamt about Finland was year and a half ago, and in that dream I couldn't remember how to speak Finnish and no-one understood me. That was just before our last trip there.
This time I woke up confused and quite upset to find myself in my own bedroom, instead of being surrounded by snow and familiar places of my dream.

I know what brought it on. I really miss my dad, my hometown and my relatives. But what makes being away worse this time, is that my friend just got some exciting news. We've gone through a lot together and have always been there for each other. We could talk about everything and only lived half an hour away from each other, so when we felt like it, we could very easily meet up. The distance hasn't affected our relationship, but I miss meeting up and chatting face to face. And I'd love to be there for her, especially now.

The other reason for my dream just happened yesterday.
The day was normal enough; came home, went for a walk, got into bed.
Started our bedtime chat and that's when I said a word wrong. Just a slip, a past tense gone wrong, which happens to me every now and again when I get tired or try to explain something really fast.
Himself noticed that and started slagging me about it. I tried to laugh, but he took it too far and I ended up crying.
I'm not sensitive, I don't mind a bit of slagging and am usually the first person to laugh at myself. However, I don't appreciate native speakers of any language laughing at people who try to make an effort and speak their language. Himself has seen me cry because of people's ignorance so many times, that he really should know where to draw the line.

So today I'm missing home and the simplicity of speaking my own language. And wondering if by giving people in your life the means to hurt you, you also give them the right to do so, or at least risk it. Or should you be able to hand the weapons to the ones you love without a fear of getting hurt?

Today will be a better day. :)

Home sweet home

People laughed at me, when I said this. And yet I'm going to say it again: Coming home felt like the first time I went to Spain. It was nearly magical, the way our little town transformed into a place full of life and lights.

The main reason obviously is the fact that after -32 degrees everything feels warm. We walked up to a friend's house on Saturday night and enjoyed the "warm" breeze. My customers complain about the cold, and I'm there enjoying being able to stand outside without my eyelashes freezing.

The life and lights -bit? Well, both my mom and my dad live in the sticks. You can't see the neighbours, there's no streetlights within miles and when you go outside, you can actually hear quiet. After over a week of that, our mainstreet looked like a tourist destination in a busy season. In a way I'm enjoying it. In a way I'm annoyed. I'd love to wear my Paddington Bear -hat, but I get too warm after five minutes. On the other hand I can wear my strange skirts without hypothermia.

It's good to be back.

Nightlife

My bodyclock has gone crazy altogether. It's past two, and I'm not even planning to go to bed. I just finished writing a list of suitable festivals in Finland (with the dates and contact details) for Angel Girl's other half. I sent my friend a book suggestion and read some lists. Himself is watching The Beatles documentary on the sofa next to me. So basically, if anyone was to walk in now, they would think it must be around seven o'clock in the evening.

I seem to get so much more done late at night. I finish reading books, remember to write things I'm supposed to write. And my brain seems to work so much better. We're re-organizing the apartment at the moment, and do all the brainstroming after midnight. And somehow everything works like magic when we execute the plans the next day.

Today we got the bedroom done. Most of the kitchen got sorted yesterday. I'm yet to decide what's in the program for tomorrow...

All there is left for tonight though, is a little walk in the quiet town and a nice cuppa before bedtime. Expect tiredness in the morning!

Emptiness in a shoebox

On Saturday we were offered a three-bedroom house. The rent would've been less than what we're paying at the moment. I got excited when I thought of all the space, the washing machine and the oven that would actually work. In my mind I was already planting carrots into the garden and baking cakes.

Himself on the other hand wasn't too happy about the idea. He said the main reason was the area and him being worried about his gear. We listed the pros and cons, my only con being the fact that he didn't feel good about it.

Later he told me that he would feel bad leaving his first proper home. That obviously changed everything. I have never felt sad leaving an apartment or a house, because nowhere has ever felt like home. I was always delighted to pack my stuff and go, or just leave my things behind if I needed to. I even lived out of a suitcase of stuff for six months at some stage. But I can still understand how important it is to have a feeling of "home", and I just couldn't take that away from someone. So I told we couldn't take the house.

I know I did the right thing, but I'm still walking around on autopilot. I keep looking at the piles of stuff everywhere and feel like crying. But not to worry; I promise to pull myself together soon! Even though I'm not going to get more space, I can create myself a starry sky with some glow in the dark stars.

There's always a compromise...

This is why I need more windows...

As you can see, I wasn't joking when I said the movie collection takes more space than I do.

It started harmlessly, with my friend sending me a DVD for Christmas 2007. It was Santa Claus and the Magic Drum. That is a movie we used to watch every Christmas, and she wanted me to keep some of the traditions.

After that things happened quite fast. I got a few more DVD-shaped presents and then started buying them every now and again.

When our local movie rental shop started a special offer, 2 for 7 euros, things got out of hand. I admitted on having a problem, but it didn't seem to take me anywhere closer to getting cured. I came home with huge bags filled with movies, which is the kind of shopping Himself wholeheartedly accepts.

Thankfully the offer has ended. I had to start hiding some of the boxes into the cupboards, which causes Himself great pain. (Literally, because they keep falling onto his toes when he tries to find the spices)

Oh, I probably forgot to mention, that this is only my collection. Himself also has a movie or two.. Or maybe a little over a hundred. Then again, we don't own a telly, so they really come in handy.

(And we still have nights, when there doesn't seem to be anything to watch...)

My little bookshelf

When I came to Ireland, I had just one book with me.

As you can see, a lot has happened in a few years. :)
And, because we don't have much space in the apartment, we have to use imagination. So that windowsill became my bookshelf.

I found this lovely little bookshop, that specialised in school books. They also had a section of second-hand books, and I used to be a regular customer. Then, one day, I walked in and saw the owner putting books into boxes. She told me they were getting rid of all the second-hand books. They were just going to throw them away, which I couldn't have watched without crying. So I called Himself and asked him to help me on my rescue mission. He arrived to the place and found me surrounded by boxes of books. Without asking a question, he carried my treasures home.

I was delighted. I found Patricia Cornwell's books, some Dan Brown, The Snapper, some Marian Keyes. And, hiding shyly under bigger and flashier books, was a shabby copy of Roald Dahl's Matilda. Dahl's books have always held a special place in my heart, because The BFG was the first book I ever read in English. So you can probably imagine my joy!

Now these abandoned little pearls live happily together with my other books. Matilda's new neighbour is a book about the history of Islam, Girl with a pearl earring lives in peace with Stephenie Meyer and Himself's Beatles collection box is squashed between some not-so-shiny numbers. And added to the mess are my notebooks; the ones for poems that didn't get finished, my journals, my "guestbooks"....

And somehow I don't think my collection is finished yet...
Do you think our landlord would mind me making a few new windows? ;)