The happy place

I’m thinking again about butterflies

But I see only dead flies.

And there is a snowstorm outside.

But a full moon.

I think I can be happy this year!

I focus on the good signs I’ve seen! The good omens!

The lion dog threw up the cucumber cigar, then threw up again on the yellow sofa, but I caught it in my hand.

I’m hoping he’s OK now, that he’s feeling OK

And he did shit in the snow, so his engines are working I hope, because without my two dogs, I’m as blind as Odin without his crows.

Interesting fact is that it was immediately hidden by the relentless snow

The shit was. Hidden.

The snow will ve a fine sight to behold, I think, as it reflects the moonshine and thereby sends glimmers of light on this, the darkest time of the year

It can only get brighter now

It’s 2026 I embrace it with both arms

Even the small black dog — which looks like a lion — has celebrated by taking a cucumber stick in the corner of his mouth, pretending to smoke it like a cigar; then having done that, he shat on the living room floor. Now he is sleeping peacefully on the sofa next to me.

I will try to use his casual happy go lucky attitude as an inspiration now for myself as I enter this new year with three pair of eyes: normal, glasses and finally the pair I opened to the undercurrents. They too are a pair, because they so accurately measure depth…

May this year be the best one in several decades!!

So say we all.

Speaking of which, I saw the dogs circular chewing bone earlier today. It reminded me of the chakram: a circular throwing weapon made famous by Xena.

That’s a powerful woman whose courage I shall also be inspired by

As well as her desire to good, with or without baggage. Make up for all of the past which cannot be changed.

and finally captain Janeway: coffee: black! Doing the right thing, acting on what is known! Leaving none behind!

Let’s go do you feel it

Do your best

It’s all you got

Tonight, on New Year’s Eve, the sky is gray with clouds. Laden with snow, they cover even the moon like baking parchment. However, this seems to only soften and multiply its shine — like a lampshade — rather than obscure it.

But now it’s all black as the clock nears twelve, and some snow has fallen, like a rich amount of white Parmesan cheese, like when the waiter asks when to stop, but noone is stopping.

And I have a headache in my left brain half, the other half is full of confusion.

I think that it’s 2025 I am feeling still.

But it’s not even an hour left of that.

And I have great hopes for the future.

I saw this moon shining through on this day and knew that too for a good omen!

Today my wife and a I took a romantic trip in the red Volvo to buy groceries for new years.

It will be a celebration of the world, with Wiener nougat from Finland and French island dip mix from Sweden.

And antipasto, possibly from Italy

From the whole world

Avocado and oranges from far away

What was remarkable is that I’ve been looking for the Wiener Nougat several consecutive Christmases, but luck has eluded me; nobody likes this anymore, and I think of this guy in ”no country for old men” who doesn’t recognise the world anymore; suddenly it seems populated by green haired people with bones in their noses.

today, however, there was a single box left.

Just the one.

And I know this for a good omen.

I’ll use it to ensure the coming of a good new year.

While I celebrate the end of this one.

And that all of this were from the same little store in the middle of nowhere, it’s not lost on me

The significance.

The crayfish wire cages were empty. They lay scattered here and there, on surprisingly different places on the lawn; blown in all directions.

So then — like I wrote earlier — there weren’t any crabs in them, and no crayfish.

Crayfish are murk dwellers, who during winter go into a type of stand-by mode in the lakebed, hidden by the dark depths of mud. I think primarily that’s why those cages were empty, being as they were: on land.

But in my imagination, it could’ve been something in there.

A tall pine tree has blown over at mother’s, uprooted by the giant forces of nature.

And the neighbours car port did blow away, denting their car before taking off.

And the roof of a nearby hotel. Like it was just some hat…

But now only icy winds are blowing over the frosted ground, which glitters in the sunlight.

But soon there will fall lots of snow.

They say.

And it’s also soon spring

This weather, in a freakish coincidence, mirrors how I feel.

An unfortunate mouse was struck dead by the trap we put under the kitchen sink.

And the sky is dark with clouds and stars and the moon is half

And we are back home again,

And I’m having different feelings, like a mix of bad and good: a tutti frutti of thoughts and feelings, if you’re allergic to pineapple, one might say.

The crab cages were blown away, we’ll have to find them tomorrow although I don’t hope for (polar) crabs in them then.

And the trash bins laid toppled on the fridge ground

Other than that, the house was in order.

I put the dead mouse in the compost part of the straightened trash bin.

It’ll become biofuel now

Today the moon and sun shone in tandem on the morning sky, seemingly disrupting the normal order of the world; indeed a storm is wreaking havoc, toppling the trees who are falling on the power lines, causing power outages, falling on the road causing blockages, falling on pedestrians, killing them.

But that’s north from here. Here in a repurposed prison cell made into a hotel room we make a stop on this little island.

Outside now only the moon shines, I see the stars on the dark sky, and some brightly coloured clouds which looks just as wrong on there — but just as beautiful — as the moon did next to the sun this morning.

Today as we took the whole family on the road we paused to go into a car wash to my child’s and my dogs’ delight.

Last time I parked diagonally in the car wash, outside of the tracks, and I’d forgotten to fold the rear view mirrors so we did that as the water was splatting into the cockpit in a dramatic manner, but this time my wife drove, and also I’ve gotten new glasses.

Last time the car had dirt stripes like a tiger after the wash, but now it’s just red

I am now back from a special norweigan Christmas dinner for family and relatives, and I was on the fringe of that.

The outskirts

I drank aquavit and had this wonderful time of just eating and drinking with people who didn’t really care about me, but still I got all of this food and drink!!

I could just sit there and feel the mist rising with each aquavit and it felt like this was a gateway to Avalon.

Once or twice we come across something which alters our course of action or way of seeing the world in profound ways; like having something chafing inside pointed out more clearly than we are able ourselves at the time.

Do you know this? Like some people says this book or that philosopher, — maybe Adler — did phrase something true enough — like a North Star or something … Could’ve been some song too. Just some single great work of art or idea which altered the course of your own life in a profound way.

I thought of this because I myself have a strong memory of being a travelling consultant, visiting most of Europe during my ceaseless travels.

I remember distinctly the feeling of waking up, and for two disoriented seconds, the feeling of not knowing where I am and then: feeling the heart sink by the realisation of being in some hotel, (like in Neon Genesis Evangelion: ”unfamiliar ceiling”), maybe in Gothenburg, then knowing maybe, that although you’ve a fever, you’d better just deliver the hours of work the client is due (or you’ll have to come back later), even if you fall asleep sitting by his screen.

And then in the evening: at some pub eating all alone with a beer and a book until finally retiring at the hotel, laptop in lap, planning the next day…

This might sound like a bit of self pity and what if it is? I was paying for this job with a currency I didn’t have, so to speak. I wasn’t cut out for this lifestyle (I don’t like travelling, or being alone).

(I am adventurous only in my imagination.)

So there I was then, having arrived at home late one Friday evening. Straight I went from airport to sofa and it felt so right being in this sofa having my wife nearby. At peace.

In this state of mind I did watch Six Days, Seven Nights (1998) in which a successful magazine editor Robin Monroe played by Anne Heche accidentally gets stranded on an island with the handsome older man Harrison Ford.

Unable to reach her destination, which was her career calling to her, (a photo shoot), she finds a truer love and a more down to earth approach to life; for whose sake was she building this career?

Instead a new life opened up to her, far removed from the pulsing New York success and status; living in a bungalow, making a living, maybe, as his co-pilot.

Finding a deep mature love

Maybe she started her family there?

This movie did pop my own bubble of wanting to climb some career ladder or something; I was living the dream of someone else

Walking a path of a career to a destination I didn’t want, reaching for a status I didn’t value.

Just because I was flattered that they wanted me in the first place.

And like that, just like Robin in the movie, I too made up my mind

Rich with this new insight

In the apartment which already contained everything I wanted: my wife, the sofa: that future.

Such is the power of a great work of art, I think.

On Christmas eve, were exactly four snowflakes gently falling from the star clear sky where the moon hung thin like in a fairy tale.

Four are a perfect number: one could be brushed off for a dandruff, but four is a strong enough pattern that confirms the bare minimum presence of falling snow.

Twenty five or thirty years ago exactly on this day I remember a darkened kitchen with a single candle burning on the kitchen table, outside it was very dark — black even — even though the white snow outside was deep to the thighs.

My cousin had bought us each an identical transformers toy, it was Ratchet, he who could transform into an ambulance. This toy had a motorcycle for some reason, because this variant couldn’t transform and so he needed the motorcycle presumably.

Anyway his father melted the tyre of mine, so it became deformed and assymetrical, over this burning flame

And my cousin traded his for mine

And I remember I thought this was fair, because it was his father who did it

It was his father who was a wacko

So it was only fair that he’d got the deformed motorcycle

But nothing about this was

Fair