Pins and Needles

I bought a pattern online and it arrived all the way from America within days. I was very impressed. With the fall weather almost upon us, I have been feeling the need for long skirts and beautiful coats. These are unfortunately not in high demand, and if I want to wear them I must make them myself. Jenny and I are going to start cutting the fabric this Thursday.

Incapacitated Marshmallows

So today I woke up, worked on my own story and my father's book--he gave me another pile of newsletters to read--went to karate and got the snot kicked out of me in a "light contact" sparring match. I am conflicted as to whether I should be happy she kicks so hard, or whether to be selfishly indignant that "she doesn't follow the forms!" The other white belt is used to punching a bag and and treated me in much the same way. I am looking forward to the bruises.

I asked my father what I should title this post. Incapacitated Marshmallows, he says. He meant to say Incapacitated Hamsters, which makes much more sense.

How does one appreciate the autumn sun?

Like this.

Our apartment, filled with drying mushrooms, smells like an old sneaker.

At the Gray House

 After the end of the opening ceremonies at my uncle's shop, we drove to his gray house by the sea, where all of us--mamma, pappa, and me, my aunt and uncle, Amelia, William, Inga-Linn, and grandmother--had a splendid time in tiny quarters, eating lasagna, having dessert twice, going for walks in the woods, picking autumn blueberries from the bush, pondering the sea, losing at yatzy, and chasing after Zita.

 Amelia tries to coax Zita to let go of a piece of wood; when uncle chops wood, Zita always steals the kindling and and runs off, thinking it a great game; she is quite proud of herself.

 

 Playing Heroes of Might and Magic IV, which is surprisingly not better than Heroes of Might and Magic III

 Dusk falls on even the best of times, and we had to bid goodbye and shove off for home.

With Pappa

Whilst my uncle pottered about in his shop, hobnobbing with the natives, pappa and I took a stroll around town. It's a small place; there's a pizza parlour, a grocery store, a shoe store, a veterinary practice, a wallpaper shop. All the important things. But mostly we kept to the greener side of things, peering into meadows and tramping through nearby fields, admiring above all the extraordinarily beautiful day.

We sat on a rock and saw fields,

saw reams of trees, droves of dreams,

 high skies and far reaches

 Things are just better when dad's around.

Opening Day

 Finally, the floor is laid, the sign is up, the doors are open. Yesterday my uncle the optician opened his new place in Ånäset. (If you missed it the first time around, I helped him pack up and move--read here.) He is quite the talk of the town, and people came from miles around to stop in and take advantage of opening-day deals. He even got a visit from the local political party, flowers from well-wishers, and a pen from the Robertsfors community. He feels very welcome.

Today we visited him to celebrate his new lot in life. He has set up shop specifically in this small town because it is located half-way between Umeå and Skellefteå. With no local optician, the visually impaired have previously had to travel long distances to be fitted with glasses--but no more! Now they can drive to their friendly-neighborhood optician and ask his advice.

The bright and airy shop

 The refreshments table for everyone and anyone who came to look and say hello

As you can see, my uncle, having already filled his schedule with appointments, is well on his way to becoming an established fixture of the community, a pillar of good sense and glasses.