Day 53: A sense of accomplishment

My cousin celebrates her birthday tomorrow. She was born a few months after me and I tease her about being older and wiser. We grew up together in Israel until I was eight years old and my family moved to the U.S. She and her mom accompanied my mother and me on the boat trip to the U.S. Two weeks of uninhibited fun aboard a fancy cruise ship.

But I digress...
In a moment of inspiration (or insanity...I can't quite make up my mind) I decided I would write her a birthday greeting in Hebrew. Now, to put this in context, I finished all of third grade before we moved and the last time I attempted writing more than my name and perhaps shalom in Hebrew was many decades ago. I had installed the Hebrew keyboard on my iPhone so I could at least see the letters. For the uninitiated, Hebrew has a non-western alphabet. To complicate matters even more, some of its vowels are letters while others are symbols that are placed below or inside letter as an aide to pronunciation.

It was a good reminder of the challenges faced by young children when they are first learning how to read. Having to learn to associate those squiggly lines with a letter and each letter with a sound. Not to mention the idiosyncrasies of spelling.

She was able to decipher what I wrote though...and guess how proud I was!

Until tomorrow...

Day 52: Squishiness

Is there anything quite as squishy as an infant? Today, I had the pleasure of cuddling with an extra-squishy 4-or-so-month-old. The gurgling, the drooling, that wonderful baby smell. The smiles, the cooing, the curious intent looking. Best of all, rocking while singing to her and watching her drift off to sleep in my arms. Yup, there were a few kisses thrown in there too. Bliss!

I do consider the fact that I never will take part in life's greatest experiment...having and raising children...the one true tragedy of my life. Which makes me all the more grateful to have been blessed with friends and family who so willingly share theirs with me. There is always a toy drawer in my house with playthings appropriate to a variety of ages from babies through the elementary school years. Because a home with toys invites visits from the younger lot and makes Auntie Odella a happy camper. Welcome!

Day 51: Leftovers

What a treat to open the fridge and find yummy food to eat...without having to prepare any of it myself. Yesterday, I munched on the incredibly delicious cantaloupe and honeydew melon bits that were left over from the book club gathering at my place on Tuesday. Melons are not always what you hope they would be but this time we hit the jackpot. Both the cantaloupe and honeydew were juicy and sweet...just the way I like them.

As my walk in the glorious sunshine was drawing to a close today, I began to think about dinner for tonight. I admit I find it hard to get motivated to cook for one. My first thought was pasta...boil some water, throw in some pasta, complete with sauce (I have pesto in the fridge) and eat. But then I remembered the wonderful spinach and carmelized onion quiche that was also left over from book club. Warmed up in the toaster oven and accompanied by mango mineral water, it hit the spot.

What are you having for dinner tonight? Whatever it is...smaklig måltid!

Day 50: Happily pummeled

There is nothing on the planet...and I mean nothing...that I like better than massage. Getting one, that is :-)

After three days of being on my feet followed by an entire day of cleaning at home, my big reward today was an hour-long massage. The masseur commented afterwards that it was easy to treat me because I had no problem relaxing into the massage. Not surprising with the amount practice I've had!

Starting with a new masseur or masseuse is always chancy. Because as much as I like massage, there's nothing worse than a bad one. A good massage has just the right amount of pressure. It should be deep enough to feel your muscles relaxing but not so deep that you scream in pain. Worse than too much pressure, is too little pressure. Makes my muscles contract in frustration and leaves me more tense than when it began.

I'm happy to report that today's experience was quite good. This masseur paid a good deal of attention to what his hands were feeling and spent extra time on those ugly knots. Best part, though, was when he massaged my feet and calves...pure heaven! Can't wait for the next time.

Day 49: Spic and span

Our roses are in bloom and the cleaning crew was here today. It took three people (two of them plus me) working for two hours (but really I started a couple of hours before them) to rid the place of construction dust. And that's without them touching the bedroom.

I'm so happy that the book club meets at my place tonight. It's had me keeping up a steady pace long after the cleaners left. And now I get to enjoy a freshly cleaned apartment...with dinner thrown in! (We're doing pot luck). Now that's what I call a great day :-)

Day 48: Happiness in a solemn setting

The end of a singing workshop is always bittersweet. To have followed a group of people so closely for three full days, rejoiced at each achieved breakthrough, is truly a privilege. This particular group succeeded in creating a supportive and celebratory environment on top of it all. Sad to have it come to an end. And content in the knowledge that it is not the end. For many, this is just the beginning.

At lunchtime, I took a walk and wound up at the truly beautiful graveyard outside the church next door to where the workshop took place. This graveyard, like so many others in Sweden, is in full bloom right now, masses of flowers planted to decorate the graves of the people buried here. I was amused at the sign posted quite visibly on one of the lamp posts advising people that winter decorations and lanterns are allowed only between November and March. There was something touching too, at the thought that people come to decorate the graves seasonally.

Strewn along the many paths throughout the graveyard are sturdy benches, inviting to rest, contemplate and, yes...why not, sing. A most pleasant way to spend an hour, among the birds and trees and those many souls that have been laid to rest in this lovely oasis in the middle of town.

Day 47: The hills are alive

It was a great plan: Take advantage of the glorious weather to start off the second day of our singing workshop outside on Fjällgatan (Mountain Street). Fjällgatan runs high above the water with an amazing view of Stockholm. There is a stretch of the street that is a regular stop for tourist buses from which the view is especially grand. Nothing blocks the way between you and the islands across the water, making it the ideal location to practice singing out, projecting and learning how to make your voice carry. All the way across the water.

We arrived ahead of schedule at 9:45 AM and were met by this wonderful view:

I kid you not. Fog. Thick fog. Impossible to see more than 10 feet in front of you type fog. And it was drizzling. How happy were our workshop participants going to be to stand in the rain and project their voices into the grayness of fog? There's a saying in Swedish that there is no such thing as bad weather, only bad clothing (it rhymes in Swedish and sounds much more catchy :-)) so we decide to persevere.

Dutifully, participants take their positions, find their Ki, inhale and exhale, lift their voices in song and, lo and behold, an hour later the fog lifts as we continue to sing, now into this view:

We literally sang the fog away! Satisfied and hungry, off to lunch we went, big smiles on all our faces. Great beginning to a good day.