I’m tired, work is stressing me out, it’s been gray and wet outside since forever, and there is no joy. I struggle to even enjoy reading, or photography, or blogging.

So I take this lovely apple to bring me at least a little bit of joy.

Maia is the teenaged fourth son of the elven emperor and his goblin wife. As a half-goblin he is gray-skinned and ugly. He has been living in banishment, loneliness and poverty for years, with an abusive older cousin as his guardian and only company. One day his father and brothers are killed in an accident, and he suddenly finds himself the new emperor.

The elven court is built upon tradition. Dignity and composure are valued above all. But under the surface there is scheming and treachery like in any court. Maia, with his background unlike anyone else at court, brings kindness to it, but struggles to fit it into his role as emperor. He feels lost and out of his depth. Surrounded by bodyguards and servants around the clock, he is almost a prisoner still, now of custom and schedules and expectations. He is also lonely. After years of abuse and isolation, he is socially awkward and has no confidence. He doesn’t expect anyone to like him, and is more or less resigned to a life without ever finding any friends or freedom.

As you can hear, this is a melancholy tale. But it’s not a dark one: Maia’s kindness lifts it into beauty. His intense desire to do good, his fairness and gentleness make this an uplifting tale of hope.

This world of elves and goblins is alien but vivid and full of detail. Reading this book I really feel like there is a whole complex world out there, a web of people and relationships, of which we through Maia’s eyes only see a tiny part. This is a small-scale story which mostly takes place in a handful of rooms in the palace. Confined, just like Maia. But also focused: this isn’t a story about a series of events but a story of Maia’s inner life. We see him learn and develop, and by the end of the book there is reason to hope that Maia will not only survive the treacherous court but become a good emperor.

The writing is excellent. Elegant, masterful, precise. Here is a writer who can craft phrases to express exactly what she intended, so that no word could be added or taken away without breaking the magic. I savoured individual words and phrases in my mouth and tried to make them last longer. Indeed I wish that the whole glorious book could have lasted longer, and if there ever was a book that deserved a sequel or maybe a whole slew of sequels, it is this one.

I was sad to realize that Katherine Addison hasn’t written any other books. Then I found out that the name is a pseudonym, and the author has written other books under her real name, Sarah Monette. Unfortunately those are described as dark and leaning towards horror, so they won’t satisfy the hunger for more of this.

The side attic in Adrian’s room is still his “bedroom” and seems to suit him perfectly. The attic is a bit longer than his mattress, and he filled the empty space with all his soft toys. And the gap between the mattress and the threshold is apparently perfect for pokeball storage.

Adrian has a cold and is feeling tired and unwell, and he coughs all the time.

When I was a child, the home remedy for sore, scratchy throats was hot milk with honey. Adrian doesn’t like hot milk, but he does like hot chocolate.

I didn’t grow up with hot chocolate and never really missed it either. I think I had it on a few occasions in Belgium, but that’s about it. Up until a few years ago I barely knew how to make it. Scout camp has taught me, thought! This summer we set out to perfect and write down the ultimate recipe for scout chocolate. Which is not the same thing as cosy-Sunday-morning hot chocolate: scout chocolate should above all be warming and tasty but not too sweet so that the scouts guzzle it just for the sugar. The answer, and I’m not joking when I write this, turned out be 42. That is, 42 grams of cocoa powder and 42 grams of sugar per litre of milk. (To be fair, 43 might also work. But 40 was judged to be too weak, and 45 was too strong.)

Adrian’s preferred recipe for hot chocolate has 2 dl of milk, 1 tablespoon of cocoa powder and 2 teaspoons of sugar. Which makes it slightly weaker and sweeter than the ultimate scout chocolate recipe.

Following tradition, we’re falling behind on the advent calendar – Ingrid didn’t have time to open hers yesterday. But this year’s activities are less ambitious than some I’ve had before, so it’ll be easy to catch up. Instead of Christmas crafts, there’s “draw a tomte in your style”; instead of making a gingerbread house, there’s “sing Christmas songs throughout the day”. You can even do both on the same day!

Adrian has been trying out drums this term, and today was the end of term show. Just like Ingrid’s dance studio, Kulturskolan has shows for several groups together, so we heard a whole lot of drumming, and brass instruments. Adrian’s beginner group started it off with We Will Rock You. There were some Nirvana songs and Christmas music of course.

Already a few weeks ago Adrian said he wasn’t very interested in continuing, and the concert confirmed that for me. I didn’t see the kind of glow or enthusiasm or energy in him or his playing that inevitably shines when you really enjoy making music. And neither did he seem nervous, which might mask the enthusiasm. He just didn’t seem very interested.

Today’s Christmas activity: writing and posting Christmas cards.

The prices for international postage keep going up and up. The same used to be true for domestic mail, but now there is only one kind of stamp that is no longer printed with a specific price. It just says “Sverige Brev” and the stamps are valid forever, I guess. Or until PostNord decides differently.

PostNord likes selling stamps in packs and not singly. Most years we get one or two left over when we’ve mailed all our Christmas cards. And by the next Christmas, the leftover stamp is useless, because the price has increased. It’s easier to buy a new full-price stamp than to find low-value stamps to make up the price difference, so that leftover stamp remains in the drawer, waiting for a better year.

Now finally the price of domestic mail has nearly caught up with our oldest leftover international stamp, so I used it on the Christmas card going to my mum.

Another thing that keeps surprising me is how rarely PostNord makes any festive international stamps. For Sweden – yes. Christmas trees, snowflakes, reindeer and so on. But for my friends abroad, today I could choose between black and white scenes from Ingmar Bergman movies (seriously!) or a series of motifs with Swedish embroidery. Embroidery it is, then.

I washed a load of medium-coloured laundry today. (We don’t sort ours by colour more specifically, other than separating out black and whites. Modern cotton clothes don’t get colour runs.)

Shortly after the wash program started, the machine started making very loud clanking noises. It sounded like there was a rock in there, or as if some part of the machinery itself had fallen off and was going round and round in the drum.

Nothing to do but wait for the programme to finish, and hope that the clanking thing didn’t wear any holes in any of the clothes.

When we emptied the washing machine afterwards, a literal stone fell out, together with a handful of miniature clothes pins. Apparently one of Adrian’s clothes was in our laundry basket. A bathrobe.

I’ve learned by now to carefully check all the pockets on Adrian’s clothes before washing them, and then checking again in case there was an inside pocket I missed. But I really didn’t expect a bathrobe to need this kind of treatment. Who the heck keeps stones and clothes pins in his bathrobe pockets?

It’s the day of the annual Christmas market in Spånga. It’s mostly filled with school classes and sports clubs selling homemade sweets and cakes, and some stands with crafts. The Spånga scout group is out in force with their traditional chocolate wheel of fortune, and their gingerbread house lottery. Ingrid’s group is manning the chocolate wheel again.

I filled the advent calendar again this year. It’s a mixture of small gifts and tasks. Underwear is a prominent part, since both Ingrid and Adrian have outgrown most of theirs and need new ones.

Yesterday’s “gift” was the opportunity to choose a new desktop background for me. Adrian chose for my home computer and Ingrid for the work one.

What you see here is Ingrid’s chosen wallpaper in all its triple-monitor glory. I can’t deny that it holds a certain appeal, and it’s been a great conversation starter, but looking at its over-the-topness for more than a minute is enough to make my brain hurt. I normally choose the calmest possible wallpapers, like the one here.

Adrian’s choice was an abstract picture of red and blue fire on a black background. There’s more energy in it than in the taco cat, but at the same time it is quieter.