It’s time for the annual report, and I don’t know where to start
or how to start. Last year, as the world was slowly emerging from the
horrors of covid, we thought that things would get better because
they couldn’t possibly get worse. It turned out, they could. I
won’t dwell on it too long because there are really no words to
describe the pain and the sorrow. My heart is with Ukraine, as well
as with my friends in Russia who have lost their jobs and are branded as
foreign agents with a real risk of getting arrested any day. My best
friend says I will never understand because I am too far away. I am
trying. What is inconceivable for me is that so many people who I
believed shared my values have chosen the other side. I guess this is
how Americans feel about Trump or the British about Brexit. Families
are divided, and you lose friends.
I
have done my humble share in supporting Ukrainian refugees in Sweden,
but of course I could have done more.
The
big question when the war broke out was whether to cancel every plan
for indefinite future: everything felt pointless, almost
sacrilegious. Yet most of us eventually decided that refraining from
fun wasn’t the best coping strategy. After all, to be cynical,
cancelling a party will not stop the war, and maybe we all needed
some fun in the middle of general misery. So my oldest son’s
girlfriend celebrated her 50th,
and to her – and everybody’s - surprise he proposed to her in
front of all the guests. (They married in a quiet ceremony a few
months later). My daughter celebrated her 40th
with a fancy-dress party. And I celebrated my three-score and ten
with a luxury weekend at a countryside manor for family and closest
friends. During this memorable event I was introduced to disc golf,
which hasn’t become my new favourite pastime, but was a joy to try
as an extra entertainment.
Similarly,
I saw no reason to cancel travel. It so happened that I made two
trips to Denmark, the first to a miniature fair, the second to a
miniature summer school. The fair was disappointing, and I am not
going there again, but I went with my daughter so we had a nice
mother-daughter bonding trip. The summer school was amazing, and I am
definitely going again. Excellent instructors, friendly atmosphere
and good food. I was very pleased with the two miniatures I made: a
17th-century map book and a Louis XVII desk. I realised how much
there is for me to learn.
Obviously,
I continued making miniatures and participated in several shows,
although I could not attend the main autumn show because I got ill –
not covid.
My probably best experience in miniature-making was a
commission to make a set of Ukrainian food for a lovely bilingual
picturebook. It was quite a challenge.
Another related achievement
was an article published in a dollhouse magazine. It wasn’t the
first time, but I felt more proud of it than of my academic
publications.
Going
back to travel, I fulfilled my grand dream of returning to Camino de
Santiago de Compostela, completing the final stretch of 120 km and
receiving a pilgrim certificate. Read a full account here. I got to know my fellow pilgrims
well, and we are already planning another pilgrimage in the coming
year.
I
also made a short trip to Gdansk which is a truly amazing city.
I
continued leading nature walks during spring, but had to temporarily
quit in the autumn because of a foot injury.
I also continued with my
urban walks, based on children’s books, and guess what? I was
awarded a very prestigious prize for them! I had thought I was beyond
all awards, and it was particularly gratifying to receive
acknowledgement for something I was doing right now. The activity is
growing, and more and more funding bodies are deciding it’s worth
supporting so I am suddenly more involved than I had imagined, for
better and for worse. It’s something I strongly believe in.
I
also received my second diploma in ikebana, now working on the third
and participating in some events apart from my formal lessons.
As
I was unable to walk any long distance in summer, I compensated by
going wild swimming every morning.
I also did some climbing, not as
much as I would have liked to, but my instructor, who happens to be
my grandson, is impressed.
I
continued cook-alongs with my Cambridge friend, and in summer we
went on a virtual trip with Orient Express, stopping in Paris,
Venice, Sofia and Istanbul. We read books, watched movies, listened
to music and of course cooked food. Believe me, it’s a great way to
stay in touch when you cannot visit in real life. We planned to go to
Paris for real, but again I got very ill so sadly it didn’t happen.
Maybe next year.
There
wasn’t much to do in terms of home improvement, but my wonderful
grandsons helped me remove the horrible carpet on the balcony and
replace it with a lovely wooden deck. The balcony was once again a
source of much joy.
I
made substantial progress with Welsh, and I am now halfway through
the course. In summer, however, I took a break and learned some
Spanish in preparation for my trip to Spain. I actually could say
quite a few phrases when I was there.
Like
last year, I set a goal of reading thirty books, but I didn’t have
any theme so it was a mix of contemporary Swedish and contemporary
British, of the latter Ian McEwan’s new novel, Lessons,
was probably the strongest impression, alongside French Murial
Barbery’s The
Elegance of the Hedgehog.
I
have been an
ardent moviegoer,
thanks to my grandson who works in a cinema, but I have also watched
numerous films and tv series at home, thanks to all great streaming
platforms. The same grandson made sure I didn’t miss any important
theatre, opera and ballet performances. Two highlights: Strindberg’s
Miss
Julie
and Brecht’s Life
of Galileo.
Not to mention all concerts, both my subscription concerts and
several on top of those. Occasionally I attended 2-3 events in a
week. Quite recently I made a big musical discovery: Ethel Smyth. A
good example of the benefits of subscription: I would probably never
chosen this concert on my own.
I
could go on, but I think I have made my point. It has been a very
dark year, and no light any time near. And yet life goes on, and it’s
a wonderful life that I wish everyone could enjoy in their
retirement, although I am well aware of how privileged I am. Not least thanks to these lovely friends:
Let's not lose hope! Happy 2023!
