The First Snow

I was sitting in Bankeryd drinking coffee and half watching the news and weather. The weather forecast caught my attention. The map of Sweden showed snow in the south, with one narrow finger of it missing Jonkoping but stretching up the west coast of Vattern. That's Vitared and the forest, I commented. The time forecast, NOW! I went to the window to look out, baring in mind here 15 miles south and at lower altitude no snow was forecast. It was raining steadily, and blowing a bit. I decided to start home immediately. No point watching a weather forecast if your not going to act upon the information. Boots and coat on and into the weather. It wasn't rain exactly, it had sleet mixed in. I bid farewell with a promise to phone on arrival home, and set off into the wet. 2 miles (UK) later on the 195 and it was definitely sleet. Windscreen wipers thrashing I headed north with an uneasy feeling. North of Habo I hung a right onto the forest B road home. Within another mile it was snowing hard. Another mile and the road was covered. The oncoming heavy snow formed a glittering silver white tunnel of stars in Darwin's headlights. Absolutely stunning in an oh my God sort of way. My heart was in my mouth. 8 miles/12k to go, up hill, in the face of what was starting to look a lot like a blizzard. I was now in no mans land between towns, deep in the forest. Too late to turn back? 15 minutes to Vitared and the nasty hill track to my place. Would the road behind close in 15 minutes? I thought not. The winter tyres felt secure. Vitared at a virtual crawl in case I skidded past the left hander. Made it. Darwin's little transverse engine pulled nicely and the new winter tyres did their job, which is partly to give me the confidence to drive in this. Into the car port and bail out for the warmth of Peace Cottage. A log fire, a hot cup of tea, the promised "I'm home safe" 'phone call, and an early night wondering just how deep it will be tomorrow.

10cm. This is an elevated position. Down on the lake shore, nothing. Up here, Christmas came early! It's only snow. I'm behaving like a kid. Scrub that. I'm behaving like a foreigner who doesn't see much of this stuff. 1.5 hours of snow clearing warmed me up and cleared the drive and paths. Then the snow plough passed by and deposited a portion of the roads snow onto my drive where I had just cleared. What do you do? Clear it again then sort plenty of firewood for a few days enforced rest.

Ernst reminded me that this is just an early taste of what comes later. -6C rising to 0C in the afternoons briefly, this feels like mid winter to an Englishman. Day light hours are 08:15 - 15:45. That also makes it feel like mid winter. The difference due to latitude is a little disorientating to me at the moment. These conditions match early January in Warwickshire. The Swedish winter is still to arrive. Apprehensive? Yep.

    

Elsa's Slippery Slope

With time on my 1.99 hands I put some work into investigating options to keep Elsa going a while longer. I am not ready to say goodbye to this wonderful motorcycle yet. EU extended stay insurance policies may be available for cars, in support of the mobility of migrant workers. Not so motorcycles which are seen as recreational. One company that provides EU cover for cars trawled through their contacts for me. No joy. I found one in Amsterdam that insures motorcycles but not over 7 years old. When did that happen? Elsa is also getting long in the tooth. There are one or two companies that might, but at a cost of around £1000 Stirling. I'm out of options from here. I have to shelve this until I'm back in the UK. Then it is a dual approach.

Advertise her for sale through the club forums, and also see what price my local dealer will give me for her. Not much for sure.

Lastly can I get a bespoke policy for an extended season, 6 months out of the UK maybe. Problem is I'd have to find storage in the UK for a winter.

One year more? Inevitably I have to let her go. It feels like contemplating shooting a good horse. I got this attached to a machine once before. Way back in my youth, a beautiful Norton Commando broke my heart when I had to let it go for health reasons. I'd forgotten Bess.

Reading Glasses

They are not called chopping fire wood glasses. If they were maybe I'd have thought to wear them as I wielded the hand axe. Fingernails are amazing things. Hard protection for delicate, sensitive finger tips. Not hard enough to withstand a hand axe though. At least in losing one I kept almost all of my finger!

AWWCH!!! It took five minutes for the pain to arrive fully and I know the drill. Tourniquet tied tight, bathroom, copious amounts of cold clean water, then break open the wound wash and get to work. Be quick because the pain when it fully arrives might knock me out. Job done with the maximum dose of Ibuprofen inside me. Elevate the hand and wait for the throbbing to ease off. I really prefer not to take an open wound to a British hospital, and it didn't occur to me to go to a Swedish one. Since this attitude is odd in either culture, It counts as mad. No matter. I'm mad.

A person is supposed to have 8 fingers. I don't count thumbs. I have a little less than 8, but not much less. 7.99 maybe. I finally went to the Vardcentral to get my work checked over. The nurse said it was a good job. The wound looks worse than it is. If you rip a nail off the bed it isn't going to look nice. She thinks the nail will grow back given 4 months. There isn't much I can't do with one and a half hands, apart from picking my nose and that is impolite anyway.

The re-supply Mission

Autumn leaves scattered in Darwin's wake. Clouds of red, gold and brown confetti beneath a blue October sky. I could feel my mood lifting with that feeling of home coming that I get returning here. It's at moments like this that I wish there was a god I could say thank you to. It's so good to be surrounded by mighty trees rather than concrete and traffic, and far too many people. The cargo ship had deposited me on the dockside at Gothenburg on time. Darwin is loaded to the gunnels as usual, but it doesn't matter. 100 miles to Immingham, and another 100 on this side. It's hardly a difficult journey.

The ship delivered the much needed rest, and as it happens great company. Frank 77 also starting a new life in Sweden following the untimely death of his younger wife. So sad. My heart went out to him. We are all like little boats blown by the wind, hoping not to be swamped by a storm. Frank is brave. It beats the alternative.

It was a good trip back to England. Words cannot express the gratitude to friends for the loan of their house while away on holiday. Darwin got his new wheels, MOT (bilprovening) and servicing as planned. Elsa got SORNed. While Darwin was in the shop I went on a shopping expedition to take advantage of UK prices. This was the work I came to do, that and transporting another load of my belongings to my Swedish house. Get the necessary tasks ticked off the list and the enjoyable work of catching up with friends and family could begin. I would not have missed one cup of tea, pint of ale, cake or sofa. My only regret is not being to fit everyone in. Getting to  Uncle Jack's 90th birthday party was a bonus. So pleased to help put a smile on his face for a few hours at least.

I have to wait until January to see those I missed. This aspect of what I am doing is tough. It hurts sometimes. I miss you all. Regrets? None regarding Sweden at all. I need to do this. Any way, it's too late. Rural Sweden has changed me. 

The Robber Barons

Wholesale energy costs are up 1.7%. UK Energy prices went up 10%. The British are being had over! Everyone at the top blames someone else. Company bosses have refused to attend parliamentary committees. High and mighty. They begin to look a lot like the ancient barons to me.

This is toxic to the Tories. A free market only works as long as there is genuine competition. Energy supply is rigged. It's a cartel. A Labour majority in the election in 2 years? Further bloating of the public sector and associated costs, and unfettered immigration to follow. Toss a coin. We seem to lose either way.


Russel Brand predicts a revolution. It appears that he is a comedian after all!

It's raining in the forest today.