Nothing can beat the jokes between those who grew up together. And if laughter extends lifespan I can expect at least 10 years more after this night.
(Helsinki, Finland; January 2017)
Nothing can beat the jokes between those who grew up together. And if laughter extends lifespan I can expect at least 10 years more after this night.
(Helsinki, Finland; January 2017)
To those who will remember 2017 as another snow-less winter: here, from the archives of February month. And it was bitterly cold, too. Thank goodness it is April now.
(Helsinki, Finland; February 2017)
One dark, cold Sunday night it was bright and beautiful inside. Lots of delicacies, lots of laughter. Some wine, too. And talks about pigeons’ quantum physics compasses, refugee policy, and age-old toys in the attic.
Families are unique. Mine can devour a significant hunk of camembert in minutes, while debating over why the universe is like the surface of a balloon. Questions are sufficient. The point is never to become any wiser.
(Helsinki, Finland; November 2016)
Still a few long, dark months ahead. With climate change there is no consistent winter in Helsinki region anymore, has not been for quite some years. So one day I can go to the office in rain, wearing my rubber wellies, and walk back home in snow. Thank goodness I had the mind to slip on boot liner fleece socks or I’d have no toes left.
(Helsinki, Finland; November 2016)
Item for item, I made a conscious decision to keep only those that spark joy. In reverse, during the past month I have sold, recycled, handed away, or thrown out every item that did not spark joy. Cassandra the cat had her own opinions, too – and they were mostly respected.
With the help of Marie Kondo I discovered how, even if I thought I loved all my books, some actually made me feel really drained. I just needed to hold them, one by one, and ask the magical question. Thanks to Ms Kondo I also discovered how painful my collection of recipes was on my heart. And how many little nests of negative emotion lived in my drawers. Out, all of them out.
We are not the things we own. But the things we own have a hold on us. They either lift us up or weigh us down. And nostalgia is not always the same as lifting up. In this Western world of abundance, the ultimate luxury is to be able to only own things that lift us up. I am grateful for being allowed such luxury.
(Helsinki, Finland; October 2016)
Coloring is good for a jet-lagged brain. Especially with my favorite souvenir from last summer: a box of Faber-Castell Polychromos, purchased from a lovely lady in a huge mall in Kuala Lumpur.
They say coloring brings the brain into the same state as meditation. In addition, one creates something beautiful and tangible. No better excuse to invest in new pencils.
(Helsinki, Finland; September 2016)

(2nd peak from the left: Mount Everest; last peak to the right: Nuptse)
Ever tried to make a New Year’s resolution that failed? Ever wished you could do this and try that and go there – without any of the wishes ever coming true? Why do we spend more time dreaming than making dreams reality? Why do we speak of wishes “coming true” instead of “being made true”?
I wrote the above one year ago, but it stands true today. And today is another year down on my Day Zero challenge: to accomplish 101 things in 1001 days. I have learned how to make limoncello, trekked in Nepal, had picnics in various places, and finally got myself a new wristwatch (without purchasing one!). I did my best to go to the observatory for stargazing, but the winter weather was not having it and showed no stars behind the clouds from January to March. I also tried to go on a hot air balloon ride, but unfortunately the weather and my calendar never matched. Here’s to hoping for better luck in 2017.
Having a list is certainly not the only way to experience new things, but I hope I can inspire you to start realizing your dreams and goals instead of just dreaming of them. Here are mine marked as “done”, the second year in:
+ about 17 goals in progress, including doing another annual detox, making sure I do an annual checkup at the dentist, and the hot balloon ride. (For year one, look here)
Another new year has arrived. How will you spend each of its days? Doing the same things you always do, or trying out the new things you always wanted to do?
(Helsinki, Finland; January 2017)
Lazy summer nights must include books and sunshine. Some of us read the books. Others use them as pillows when napping. Both ways are allowed and encouraged.
(Helsinki, Finland; July 2016)
One lazy cat and one lazy human. I can tell you it gets quite warm when two cats pile up on you any given moment you lay yourself down on a deck chair in the sun.
Lovely ones, apologies for the weeks of silence. Climbing out of the vortex required a week and a half’s worth of time off in France. But I have many stories to tell you: how to have a picnic among armed guards and a demonstration in Paris; how Bordeaux wines are made; where to get great pintxos in San Sebastian, and where to get the best hot chocolate in the whole world (I can reveal that it is one of the few French-accredited Palace hotels).
In the meantime, please excuse me for one more weekend. I must go have cream tea in the Grantchester orchard with a friend, and maybe take a dip in Byron’s pool if it gets too warm.
(Helsinki, Finland; July 2016)
All set for summer adventures! France, I cannot get enough of you. Bali, I promised you I would be back. With some detours around SE Asia on the way in and out.
Wanderlust. What is it, other than a hyped-up hipster blogger word? Kahlil Gibran said it best: “But you, children of space, you restless in rest, you shall not be trapped nor tamed. For that which is boundless in you abides in the mansion of the sky, whose door is the morning mist, and whose windows are the songs and the silences of night.”
(Helsinki, Finland; June 2016)