Since we moved to this office, I have two small potted plants in the window alcove next to my desk, a fern and a jade plant.

Or rather, I had two. Recently I discovered that the fern was infested with mealybugs. I have no idea how that can have happened, the plants have all been here for a year and nobody has brought any new plants that might have been carrying the bugs. And jade plant as well as the official office decoration plant (whose name escapes me right now) are both free from the pest.

Getting rid of mealybugs is more effort than the fern is worth, so I just threw it out. That left me with an empty pot. Then I realized that the jade plant was outgrowing its tiny pot and replanted it, and now I had two empty pots. They’re rather small and not very practical, but still, a tiny pot with a plant is clearly better than a tiny pot without a plant, so I bought two of the tiniest plants I could find in the flower shop across the street.

Now I have three.

On Wednesday nights, everyone else in the family has “extracurricular activities”. Eric and Adrian have a scout meeting, Ingrid goes dancing. Quite often I take this opportunity to work late.

Today I worked a few extra hours but then found myself too tired to really do anything productive. So I gave up, and instead took the metro to the Science Fiction Bookshop. I browsed the shop until a member of the staff came to tell me that they were closing.

I have a whole pile of books at home, waiting to be read, but none that I actually feel like reading right now. It’s like opening your fridge and looking around at all that is in there and still feeling that there is nothing to eat in the house.

I rarely have reason to go to Old Town, and when I do it’s almost always for the SF Bookshop. I keep being surprised by how solidly touristified it is. Many of the people I saw in the streets were walking around with selfie sticks or aimed big cameras at their girlfriends. The restaurants all have menus with prominent English translations, and a strong focus on reindeer, meatballs and other such things that can be sold to tourists as “very Swedish”.

The chestnut animals are collapsing, one by one. The elephant lies dead on its side. Others have lost limbs. Only the worm has mostly kept its shape, although it has shriveled and shrunk.

Neon red markings have appeared on the asphalt on our street. It looks like someone might be planning to fill in some of the potholes and worn-out places in the road. But it also looks like they are for some reason planning to do so with some of the holes, while leaving others. They also seem to be quite intent on making the patches as small as possible. I’m a bit baffled.

Adrian is doing his homework. There’s a chapter from a book to read out loud, and a handful of questions about that chapter to answer in writing.

This is not his favourite pastime. He’s already halfway somewhere else, mentally as well as bodily.

Cleaning day at Spånga scout group. I had signed up some time ago but didn’t have much energy for the more interesting tasks so I cleaned and defrosted the fridge and freezer, and hacked away weeds in the front yard.

Cinnamon bun day is one of those made-up holidays introduced by some marketing firm or industry body that I find rather ridiculous. But whatever, home made cinnamon buns are delicious!

Ingrid has gone from cooking dinner once a week to cooking dinner two or three times every week, plus occasionally baking. She’s passed that threshold beyond which cooking feels easy rather than scary. She can feel confident about picking up a new recipe and following it, or even just making something up without a recipe.

It’s October, and it’s getting cold both outside and inside. We’re stingy with the heating and just wear more socks and fleece jackets to keep warm.

And slippers. I just took down the box with slippers from the top shelf. It’s time.

Three-legged man meeting a cow.

I also made a velvet worm (having recently watched the jungle episode of Our Planet) and something that might have been an ammonia molecule.

Adrian loves chestnuts. He often walks around with all his jacket pockets full of chestnuts. Literally dozens of them so the jacket is heavy to lift.

It’s peak chestnut season right now, and on top of that today was very windy, so there were extra many chestnuts to be picked. Adrian emptied his pockets into a bowl and we made chestnut animals.

P.S.
I managed to stab myself in the hand with an awl when I was trying to make a hole in a chestnut. The darn thing split in two and the awl just went right through. It made just a small hole that barely bled. But the day after I could barely move my finger. I must have caused bleeding or swelling in some tendon sheath or something. From time to thime I had to use my other hand to move the finger into a suitable position. Once it was in position, though, it worked as well as ever – I had no trouble holding on to heavy objects in the gym. I kept exercising it, assuming that the usual advice applies – gentle exercise is a better cure than rest – and it worked normally again in another day or so.