sun

There's just this super ghetto looking lot of nothing behind our apartment block.
But it gets real pretty sunsets and sunrises. 

So I'm super pleased they are yet to fill it with all-sorts of buildings, but for now, it just is.

Sunsets.
M.

dangle

I used to do this all the time in our old house.
Only I wasn't as high up as she was.
My room was on the 1st floor, or those who don't follow the UK floor system - that would be the 2nd floor.
And my window faced our neighbours apple-trees which were so nice, whatever the season. And I would just sit there, dangle my legs and read.
Or just sit there and stare at the sky, daytime or nighttime.
One time, when I had just discovered Bob Marley, courtesy of my first-love, I sat exactly like this and listened to "No woman, no cry" 46 times. Or was it 42. Either of these digits.

So yes, I am a huge fan of this. Huge fan.

(I'm packing.)

Dangle more.
M.

share your meal

So.
I had an idea the other week (...potential understatement of the year.)

So, I've been fairly obsessed with this Swedish thing lately.
I think it was True Blood's man-delicious-ness going under the character name of Eric Northman that kicked it off some time ago.
I've always had a place in my soul for some Swedish things. Being from a Nordic country I think we all have a lot of time (and a little bit of jealousy) for the Scandinavian sense of life. The pace, the architecture, the amount of space, the use of space.
Just more advanced I guess as a group of people in understanding what they want and how they want to want it. Or maybe it's all wrong, and it's more about the pace.
The connectedness as well. This is what we share. Understanding the roots, you know.

Then this idea of having a red house with white windows arrived. Somewhere near the sea, with a separate sauna house, with a big birch tree outside. And a swing behind the house.

So the idea that I had the other week was that I don't want to have this house for me. I'll most probably be jetting around the place quite a lot (or using trains if I get my way) so it wouldn't make much sense to have it as a permanent place.
Then I decided that it would be dandy to share it.
And therefore have a shared summerhouse, owned by mine and A's fams.

Shared meals, and shared sauna times.
And we can sit on the porch, our men will be fishing, and the children will be swimming so we can lie there in sundresses, waiting for the sauna to heat up, under the birch tree.

(S)pace.
M.

3.47

3 hours and 47 minutes.
Concert number 12.
Once that's completed we can officially say we're over the half-way mark.

We're stopping at my aunties big yellow summer house for a day. I stayed there for summers on end when I was a child. It has now become one of those memories that's best described or felt through a smell, or I remember it as a smell. A smell of, pinetrees, and water, and pastries, and sand, more importantly sandy summery footwear, and creaky stairs, and somewhat dusty mattresses. And tea too, but fresh peppermint. What a smell, eh.
Those were really really good, old-fashioned, honest childhood summers.
There are still berries EVERYWHERE behind the house. Marvellous.
And I get to be there for a night. And swim morning-evening-morning before we drive back. And there's a nice little food place on the highstreet.
Two weeks ago the old neighbour heard I was staying for a bit and came along to say hi, with a big pot of fresh honey.

Maybe I should move, or at least spend more time away from Tallinn during the summer. Tallinn is brilliant and it's my city through and through, but during the summer it seems like everyone else is having more fun. Wrong choice of word maybe. Not fun necessarily, but, more at ease? And kind of allowing themselves to enjoy sunshine and notice the fact that everything is green, and lush. Maybe because there's so much more greenery when you leave Tallinn.

Well, whatever it is, there is this peace in the countryside.

Into the blue, and green, and pink, and golden,M.