Breathing extra deeply when walking down the street, to get more of that intoxicating lilac smell.

It’s such a pleasure to see fine plants spreading and thriving. Not all do, so I’m extra glad over the ones that do. Especially when they are as decorative as these Epimediums.

We played “Settlers of Catan”. Eric won with a mile-wide margin. Adrian followed his favourite strategy, which is to bet on development cards all the way.

I was more or less prepared for making do without a proper kitchen. What I wasn’t quite prepared for was how hard it would be to not have access to running water in or even near the temporary kitchen-in-dining-room.

There is a temporary wall blocking off the dining room from the construction site. Which, given the sawdust and peat dust and other kinds of dust in there, is a good thing. But it means that getting to the laundry room and the sink there is now a bit of a hassle.

In the old kitchen, I had the stove and the sink right next to my small work area. Sink on the left, stove on the right. Now the sink is not even in the same room. Or in the next one. Or even in the room beyond that: I have to pass through three doorways and around two corners to get to the sink.

I’ve started using the bathroom sink for some tasks, but it is small, and really only works for small stuff. I can rinse veggies and drain pasta or fill a small pot halfway with water, but no more than that.

I’m almost considering buying a stainless steel bucket so that I can have water at hand in the “kitchen”. But then I’d also need another bucket for dirty water, and someplace to put them, and it’s not really worth it.

Running water is a pretty darn good thing to have.

I haven’t taken any self-portraits in a long time, and not now either, but I like this photo that Ingrid took of me.

The old pine floor has gone the way of the cupboards. A trip to the laundry room (for e.g. water) now involves either balancing on the floor joists or walking through peat dust. Balancing is definitely both more fun and more comfortable.

Peat dust is rather icky. It’s very light and spreads everywhere and sticks to everything. Half the laundry room/pantry is covered in a thin layer of brown dust – I guess the door has been open while the builders worked.

But as “compensation” we’re getting new floor joists, which – unlike the old ones – are actually level.

I have three flowering quince bushes in the front quarter of the garden. One is seven years old, full and bushy, strong and well established. The two others have been here for five years according to my notes, so not that much less, but compared to their older brother, they’re scraggly and weak.

This year those two decided to flower before putting out any leaves. Now they are covered so densely with flowers that they’re like bonfires.

I wonder if it is a stress reaction of some sort. Aspens are flowering incredibly intensely this year and spreading their fluff everywhere in amounts that I’ve never seen before, and I’ve been told it’s a reaction to last summer’s heat and drought. Who knows, maybe the quinces do the same?

The builders have arrived and gotten to work. And already the kitchen is basically gone. The wonky cupboards and the cheap plastic countertops have all been thrown out. They’ve also already removed the two layers of flooring on top of the original pine (one layer of cork board and one of imitation wood). Only the shell of the room is left.

Since we have no kitchen, we’re now doing all our meal prep, cooking and eating in the dining room. Washing up happens in the laundry room, which also houses such things as the kettle and the microwave.

I can barely imagine living without cooking proper food. Living for however many weeks completely without a stove was not an option. We bought a portable hob with two hot plates that’s going to have to serve for this period.

It kind of works… but it is already frustrating. The plates do kind of get hot, but not proper hot. And it takes them half an eternity. We have to get used to the old school way of cooking again: whatever the meal you’re about to cook, start by turning on the hob. By the time I’m done chopping onions, the pan might be almost hot enough. Cooking on this thing is an exercise in patience

Today we flew back from Prague. But the flight for Stockholm didn’t leave until mid-afternoon, so I had a whole free morning to spend in Prague.

I considered the Alphonse Mucha museum, which was just a stone’s throw from our hotel, but wasn’t in the mood for Mucha. Instead I visited the Jewish sights of Prague. The synagogues, just like the churches, all charged for entrance, but at least here I could pay once and get a single ticket for all the sights.

The old Jewish cemetery was beautiful but also sad in its abandonment, in a way that I haven’t felt about any other cemetery I’ve been to.

The Pinkas Synagogue, a memorial to the tens of thousands of Jews from Czechoslovakia who were killed in the Holocaust, was serene and peaceful but even sadder.

The Spanish Synagogue on the other hand was strikingly beautiful, and if I hadn’t had a flight to catch, I would have stayed there a lot longer.