It has been some time since I have thought of writing. I have been occupied with other things: painting, gardening, watching the Olympics (which I have really never done before), shopping, reading, lying in the hammock in our backyard and staring up through the trees to blue sky and sun. It seems in one fell swoop my world has become large and free and unhindered, yet terribly small and sometimes a bit lonely. It's all very normal, I am assured, this up-down crash of longing for home and familiarity, but then I am perfectly content, and that assurance makes me grateful.

I took a few minutes respite in our hammock yesterday, and was startled alert by a sharp, strong knocking that I could feel right through the hammock. I was confused until I looked up and there was a woodpecker, hammering the tree about the hammock. He ( I am almost certain it was a he) had a red cap and red lower chest, and black and white all over. I watched for nearly 10 minutes as he hopped from tree to tree pecking and testing for I do not know what. Just a few minutes watching him and the melancholy I was feeling passed.

The country life is quite delightful, I must say. A little ways up our road and the houses end, and the thick forest cuts to farm fields that must be quite ancient, lined with moss-covered stone fences and dotted with red and white farm buildings. The road officially ends in a clusters of rural homes, but our neighbour assured us that there is a little-travelled road that continues on. I am itching to explore. We definitely need to purchase another bike, as we have an older one for Martin but I need one in order that we can do further exploration on wheels. 


blogs are for blogging

So we do not (and won't for a while) have Internet or phone, because of due process and usual beaurocracy. But it makes life simple and kind of nice in way, living in the countryside feeling a little bit disconnected. We are driving to my parents-in-law (thank-you Janne and Lisbeth!) and using their phone and Internet and indulging in divine baked goods. We are eating way too much brea but I can't stop because it's so good. And cheese! Oh, ost! It's also divine, and much less expensive here. We bought a massive hunk of my favourite German cheese here and it' so tempting in the fridge, all yellow and filled with delicious milkfat.

The sun has treated us this morning, shining on our breakfast table, and the bees are still absolutely loving the lavender growing by our front step. The nights are dark and quiet, and the other night driving home in the rain we came across a red fox, oblivous to the car crossing it's path until Martin stopped and flashed the high beams. The jolted upright, for seconds transfixed in the beam of light, his body and face completely poised. Then, gone. It had a mystical quality to it...a fox in the rain and fog.

We have salamanders and frogs and one big fat toad in our own backyard, which is lovely as I was informed that frogs and toads live in areas were the ecosystems at a natural rythmn. That's nice to think of, my backyard is nature in balance. This week we stacked firewood for our fireplace, and I felt so removed from living in a city of a million people. I haven't stacked firewood since childhood (and I doubt I really helped much then). I remember that my dad was magnificent with a chainsaw, and I wonder how I will be with an axe, not having used one much in the past decade. I would be quite scary with a chainsaw, I don't think Martin would ever let me have one. I might saw something down just for the heck of it.

So, I have blogged, but cannot say when I will blog again. Please come soon, dead Internet provider, because I only like to be disconnected in the woods for so long.