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It is an odd existence, hopping around borrowing apartments 2-3 weeks here and there, carrying your house on your back like a snail this whole summer. Sometimes I wish I had a cart like a bag lady, because frankly that would be easier. I have 3 bigass sportsbags and a back pack now, and the unfortunate human condition of assembling stuff is in full motion, it's unavoidable.
You gather some strict routines when you don't have a permanent home...it's is as if the routine in itself is a safety net and a code for home.
Like a dog before laying down to sleep, I circle around my new area a few times, check out if the windows are facing east or west, where the cutlery and trash cans are, how big the freezer is, the firmness of the mattress/bed.
Secondly I create table area for my binders, papers and books. And then there is the toothbrush/make up/ toilet stuff corner.
I also do some secret marking territory related actions, similar to a cat's chin-work (and definitely less icky than that of a male dog!)
After that I mostly live there.
This is the fifth place I live in this summer, and unless something unexpected happens there will be eight altogether.
This weekend I'm going the furtherest north I have ever been in my life, way way up north in Sweden, on the same latitude as southern Greenland. Me and Mille are gonna visit the childhood home of our friend Pauline, and we've been promised northern lights/the aurora, big intimidating woods filled with bear, wolf and lynx, and gorgeous deserted sand beaches where us three gals can walk naked like bush women for miles and miles, with our hair flowing around our hippie-like white limbs.
I'll try to borrow a camera and take photos, because the landscape is supposed to be remarkable, although I'm a little intimidated at the thought of the infamous elephant-sized mosquitoes that suck the life force out of you and sit on your sandwich in a thick cluster so that it turns black. Those are some unfortunate side-effects of the deep north, from what I've heard.
In other news, the Geek is coming in 2 weeks, on vacation, and we are super stressed from the uber-bureaucracy master skills that we must possess to satisfy the American Consulate in Stockholm, when he is to apply for my almost-permanent residency in the United States (they don't make it permanent until after 2 years of marriage).
In Kafka-land anything can go wrong. I need prayers, heathen rituals, good wishes and vibes. Maybe some cake and booze also.
You gather some strict routines when you don't have a permanent home...it's is as if the routine in itself is a safety net and a code for home.
Like a dog before laying down to sleep, I circle around my new area a few times, check out if the windows are facing east or west, where the cutlery and trash cans are, how big the freezer is, the firmness of the mattress/bed.
Secondly I create table area for my binders, papers and books. And then there is the toothbrush/make up/ toilet stuff corner.
I also do some secret marking territory related actions, similar to a cat's chin-work (and definitely less icky than that of a male dog!)
After that I mostly live there.
This is the fifth place I live in this summer, and unless something unexpected happens there will be eight altogether.
This weekend I'm going the furtherest north I have ever been in my life, way way up north in Sweden, on the same latitude as southern Greenland. Me and Mille are gonna visit the childhood home of our friend Pauline, and we've been promised northern lights/the aurora, big intimidating woods filled with bear, wolf and lynx, and gorgeous deserted sand beaches where us three gals can walk naked like bush women for miles and miles, with our hair flowing around our hippie-like white limbs.
I'll try to borrow a camera and take photos, because the landscape is supposed to be remarkable, although I'm a little intimidated at the thought of the infamous elephant-sized mosquitoes that suck the life force out of you and sit on your sandwich in a thick cluster so that it turns black. Those are some unfortunate side-effects of the deep north, from what I've heard.
In other news, the Geek is coming in 2 weeks, on vacation, and we are super stressed from the uber-bureaucracy master skills that we must possess to satisfy the American Consulate in Stockholm, when he is to apply for my almost-permanent residency in the United States (they don't make it permanent until after 2 years of marriage).
In Kafka-land anything can go wrong. I need prayers, heathen rituals, good wishes and vibes. Maybe some cake and booze also.
