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Week 31 & 32 – Summer Dune

Berries are ripe - merry delight! In the lap of life, we stay outside until the sun sets in saffron skies. Time all but idly passes by but it's like one long time lapse seen with my passive eye. Walking this path with a rapid stride, tracking time, waking wide to bask in rays of shine and scraggle down these rags of rhyme.

I've painted walls, I've been swimming - living. I've been hauling, scrawling, waking up early morning, mourning moments stalled when I realize... only two weeks until I call in! I'm going all in this last forth of my haul North - the source of all I draw from when I crawl through those wintery halls - mauling my teeth till they splinter and fall. It's a grind.

I write at half power, only here for half an hour, on my way to Kangos where this hungry pack devours: berries. Clouds, Blues... Lingon they might be late. On Friday one more funeral quites our day. RIP Thea.

Wrote ^ this morning so I could post quickly. ;) Inspiration strikes at the break of light! We're doing a quick library drive-by before the trip's resumed: a few days off in the even wilder wild completely devoid of modern luxuries like: electricity. Here's last week; until later! It's been another great couple of weeks.

Week 29 & 30 – Summer Days

Another rainy day in Överkalix! So rainy that we had to crawl the roads to get here, window wipers helplessly attempting to keep the torment of rain that stalled us at bay. After the neccesary bouts of shopping, recycling and trashing around I have but a few minutes remaining, with which I shall try to best summarize the recent two weeks past.

Since last visit I've painted another three exterior walls, and a little more indoors, packed the woodshed further; barred down trees for next year; plenty else. My nephew left at the start of the week; my sister's leaving again tomorrow, exactly seven days later.

We've spent all surplus time gardening; with a variety of sports and bike-rides, or at times comfortably slouched on upper-stair bed's and sofa's with the rain melodically pattering the tin roof, reading books like 'A Dance With Dragons', fifth part of the Song of Fire & Ice (AKA Game of Thrones) quintology... or however many parts may yet be written.

I jumped into the series midstride (had no idea the TV series I had not yet watched but heard so much about was based upon literary work) and have at the moment plowed just halfways through, 520/1100 pages in this one segment alone. It's a massive work; as elaborate in detail as it is in length, complex but captivating; may also explain why my style of writing seems to be, for the moment at least, inexplicably alterned; unnescesarily complex... and probably riddled with typos since I have no spellcheck here even whilst writing out these diversive words.

In other notice: berries seem to be ripining later than usual this year, cloudberries in maybe a week or two, blueberries around the same time; I hope I'll be able to pick some lingonberries as well before I leave (the trip back South is now booked for the 26th of August).

We've been savoring home-grown radishes every day the past week; sallad too, the rest of the evegetable variety's taking longer than usual thanks to unhumbly cold and humid weather, though next week should be summer again! We hope.

Time's ticking away, and so, though I'd like to be more thorough I'll have to leave yall with this vague recollection: it's been another eventful two weeks up here in the cool, great cradle of Northerly greatness. Here's the last post.

Week 27 & 28 – Summer Daze

I'm back in Överkalix with a somewhat belated dual-week report of events passed since my last visit! My brother's been here a week; my nephew's staying for two; my siser's catching a plane back North for one more short term of traversing-the-wild time tomorrow. I turned 26 the 10th, we rode back and forth to Kangos to attend Kalle Gärde's funeral the 11th, parted ways with David the 13th (he drove back South), and since then summer time's been moving on as usual. Rapidly, yet always with that satisfatory sense of purpose and rewardingly visible accomplishment in all you do, even if there is plenty of game time inbetween mattering tasks.

The main event this weekend, apart from mom's 71st Birthday: is Överkalix Marknad (in translation the 'Överkalix Fair'). The streets are lined with booths selling handy things of use, and guards patrol the parkings waiting for commutes. Apparantely we get 40,000 visitors (!), which is much more than you'd assume if you strolled down the somewhat crowded but still measuredly lesirurely streets in pursuit of pertinent product in what is usually a small, somewhat vacant village up North, founded at a beautiful bend of the Kalix river. Thunder's roaming the sky today, but it doesn't seem to be scaring people away much (nor us); the rain patters the window pane as I type this.

Apart from gardening and slowly attempting to deforest overgrown fields these past weeks: I've painted a wall, built a bridge, filled the woodshed; burned a huge heap of twigs (x3) right before a seige of rain began to descend upon us, turning the fields to mush and puddle. The rain lasted a few days, and has since then checked in and tended to the garden every once in a while (there's not much need for watering), but it's a balanced weatherscape with abudant sun too. We've paddled, biked, explored a new forest road, played Tennis; bedminton; other games inbetween sessions aaaaand my library time's almost up so that's all I've time to scribe for now.

Here's last week; here's to a continued Great Summer!

Week 26 – First Week Up North

My first week up North has passed, alas, but it's been a blast it has!

I took my debut swim last day, parted pathways with my sister (she flew back to the whack cityscape track state - Stockholm); I've lapped shade between the timelapse sunshine-with-a-few-cracks cage, molded my new shape like I'm a blank slate, feeling a strange euphoria like a panpipe lampshade liting off a PanAm landway, sipping sun before my tan fades, after running under hats before it ran stray. Worked with the plants and plantations, painted a wall, I've started reading and writing notebooks tall when I close the outpost and fall. Made a bridge; at the start of the week I cleaned the fridge - flew up on Wednesday after ten too hectic days plowing through a brew of vexxing shapes... but now I live.

It's great up here. Air so fresh it clears your head till you walk around with a vacant stare. No need to contemplate your fears when they disappear like by a ray gun spear. It's a rundown all day, doesn't matter what you wear: I wear down stairs, running up and down years like I'm an escalator. Elevating my mindstate, getting revelations, where there were dead ends I find ways, find grace, turn this upside-down frown sideways. Smirk and work. Then lurk in surf.

The sun it blinds but we have no blinds, we soak shine like our grown ground, but close our curtains at night cause this sun never goes down. My flow knows no bounds but what does is computer time, I'm at a public library; I just used up mine. So, until next week or two: whenever I manage to sneak a few speak-a-boo's and to the library PC commute. I'll leave you to it!

I actually posted some stuff before I left, and here's last week.

Summer Nights

The day ticked away, task by task: the fridge is emptied, the freezer defrosted, the closets closed, the dishes washed, the washer dissed, my travel backup complete (though I realize as I'm typing this I forgot a recent batch of photos - nothing like a blog to refresh memory). It's 1:04 and I'm done with my chores.

Tomorrow a flight awaits to take me up North, where I'll be spending a month or two or too few sizzling under the summer sun - as was born the norm, heavy work but scorn-free chores on warming floors, reforming sports and scores of ore we pick as clouds in mornings soar. I'll leave a post if I'm at a library and have time to spare, but as always the time that nears they may be rare. Here's to the greatest time of the year! Cheers! To the skies so clear! To the insect bites and the drinks of life and the trinkets I fiddle with with flint and knife. To summer days, and summer nights, and sounds and sights and ground and sky to eye with a sly smile... as clouds fly by. It's summer time.

Here's a little freestyle and a track I wrote after last summer. A bit late, but better now than December. I'll see you in a while! Meanwhile: live a life to remember.

Bunny By A Bus

Bunny By A Bus

On my way to work one morning this fuzzy little critter popped up the roadside. The highway's bustling with traffic, a tram is passing by on the opposite side, and we're stopped by a red light awaiting a turn over those tracks. Meanwhile it nibbles a patch of grass, and raises its head, sniffing for predators. The bus is booming, fuming, and soon resumes it's movement. I glance the other way, and when I look back: the bunny's gone.

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