1. Get the wood in. From the Wood Shed – I’m still waiting to see something traumatic in the woodshed, but maybe I’m too old, or maybe too influenced by Stella Gibbons. Disappointingly, all that is in the woodshed is wood and a few plant pots left by my parents, which are slightly traumatising in their own little way as there is a perfectly good potting shed just around the corner.
The wood comes from Edgar, who is a lovely chap of few words. He has reached the pinnacle of Swedish Manhood and owns his own sawmill.
2. Light the fire and keep it going. A log or two has to be put on every 40 min or so. If not the fire will go out and we will have to use the eco air con. And it makes a noise. Whilst being eco, it uses electricity, the pollution of which you have to pay evil corporations for, unlike the wood, which is not as expensive, but more local (and Edgar gets the money - much better) and smells nicer.
I also have an ash pail! An ash pail!! – they had those in the 1950s and we aren’t even in New Zealand/Tasmania. I have to say that it’s so much easier to use the ash pail on the veranda than to go to the ash pile every morning in your dressing gown when it’s -19C – long live ash pails :-) (lovely yellow from IKEA, I think it was originally intended as brewing equipment, oh well.)
3. Change the cat litter. This isn’t strictly so different, BUT, here, so far, the cat comes in from the outside to go to the loo inside....??? Once, when I was very depressed, (probably brought on by the lack of relentless pressure and having to find my own direction, always a test of character) Graham told me I had to stay alive because I could change the cat litter. The fact that it was the first thing he thought of was, erhh, interesting and shows interesting stuff about the male brain...
4. Sweep. It’s very nice having lots of trees around, but they drop things; constantly, incessantly and relentlessly. As do the clouds. If the snow is swept up before trodden down, you don’t get those slippy ice bits on the steps, and not slipping is almost always good (cross-reference skiing). There is also the perfect housewife thing. Swedish women manage to have families, jobs and keep their houses immaculate. How, how, how???? My one contribution to decent and upright womanhood is sweeping the steps and the wooden floors as often as is feasible to my poor pathetic excuse for humanity.
5. Take the recycling to the dump: this has to happen once a week at least, or the kitchen gets overrun by plastic and tetrapak and we get replaced by the life forms growing in the aforementioned. We only pay council tax if we use council services, so my Mother (whose house this is) doesn’t pay for rubbish collection. Fortunately, almost everything is recyclable. We have a bucket for “other” and that hasn’t been full enough to empty in the six months we’ve been here and, I sorry to say, has mainly British rubbish in.
6. Stop and stare: “what is this life, if, full of care, we have no time to stand and stare”.
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