For Eric’s birthday, I bought tickets for an online concert. Eric shares his birthday with Johann Sebastian Bach, so there is an Early Music Day on this day.

It was an odd experience. Live but not live. It was a live concert but it didn’t really feel like it.

The music was lovely. The production, not so much. Odd camera angles where our view of the musician’s face was blocked by a microphone stand; weird cuts from one camera to another; a sound mix that wasn’t adjusted when the musician switched instruments. Either it was done on a shoestring budget, or by people who are used to very different kinds of concerts and out of their depth here. Our guys at tretton37 produce much better live streams.

On the plus side, in a real live concert I would never have gotten a live view of the harpsichord player’s hands.

Random observation: my brain noticed the harpsichord much more when the view switched to his hands. Objectively I knew there was no change in the music, but as soon as I could see him play, my brain picked up the harpsichord so much more clearly.

The Viburnum blossoms have been on the way since December, on the cusp of opening.

Single-use plastic bags for fruit and veggies went from ubiquitous to reviled almost overnight. Now ICA and Coop both offer paper bags instead. I find those bulky and clumsy so I got myself a set of reusable mesh bags instead, which I keep in my purse so I always have them with me.

I never saw those single-use bags as single-use. I always saved them and reused them. When I buy a chunk of cheese and tear open the packaging, I need a bag for the cheese. When I go out hiking, I need a bag or two for my sandwiches, or for taking home my garbage. When I have a plate of leftover pancakes, I need a bag to cover them with so they don’t dry out.

Now I don’t have an inflow of these bags any more, and I miss them. There are freezer bags you can buy on a roll, and they work fine for most tasks. They just feel a bit more wasteful because they’re thicker than the single-use bags. The problem with the freezer bags is that they are all narrow. When I go up in size to 5 litre bags, they get longer but not much wider. None of them fit over a dinner plate.

I avoid cling wrap because hasn’t been clingy for years (I think the material was changed at some point due to environmental concerns?) so it always disappoints me.

Today someone went shopping and came home with apples in one of those shameful plastic bags. I am so going to hoard it!

My favourite apple variety is Ingrid Marie. And fortunately for me, it is one of the few varieties of Swedish apples that is sold all throughout the winter. Aroma and Cox Orange have also been available, off and on, but I don’t care much for those.

I’m impressed that they manage to store these apples all the way until the end of March, and they’re still crisp and in good shape.

This seems to be the end, though. I haven’t seen any at either Coop or ICA in the last few days. I’m savouring the last one.

Ingrid found out this weekend that one of the friends she hangs out with is unwell, and his mother has tested positive for covid-19. And now she is sick as well. It started with a slightly sore throat, and then continued with headache, tiredness, mild fever, and a general feeling of being unwell and achy.

The current procedure is that everyone with symptoms of possible covid-19 infection should get tested. In Stockholm you can either make your way to a drive-in testing station, or get a DIY test delivered home. We went the home testing route.

The process was very smooth. You book online, and a few hours later a test is delivered to your door. You get 15 minutes to take the test, and then the courier comes back to pick up the little test tube with your sample.

Ingrid took the test in the middle of the day and late this evening she already got the result. Negative.

It’s an odd coincidence that she would get some other respiratory infection just as she has been exposed to someone who has been exposed… or perhaps this was a false negative. Who knows. But lacking any other information, I guess we’ll have to trust the test.

And now my own throat is feeling a bit sore. We’ve been trying to keep Ingrid at more of a distance than usual, but we’re still in the same rooms, breathing the same air, so it’s hard to not infect each other with whatever it is.

Adrian made this rhino sculpture, liked it but had no use for it, so he gave it to me. Now it sits on my desk because I also like it but have no real use for it.

Part of the role of a parent is to accept gift of random crafts, apparently. Drawings and paintings, embroidered pieces of cloth, pin cushions, decorated candle holders, miscellaneous objects made of paracord or steel wire or wood…

I guess the rhino can stay here until it gets replaced by the next thing.

Adrian is home from school because of a runny nose, but essentially not the least bit sick. So when the sun is shining bright, we can go for a walk in the middle of an ordinary Tuesday.

This spring’s very first crocuses.

Sörmlandsleden stage 17, back and forth, 6 + 6 km.

Today’s walk was mostly just to get out of the house. With nothing going on in life, I’ve gotten used to nothing going on and lost the habit of doing things, of planning and making things happen. Planning something feels like so much effort. So it’s a good thing that my slow-burn Sörmlandsleden project makes it so easy to get out. Just take the next stage on the list.

12 km is far from a full day of walking, but with the driving there and back and a leisurely lunch + book break in the middle, the whole outing took over 8 hours anyway. Sörmlandsleden stretches many miles away from Stockholm and the point that I have reached is currently about one and a half hour’s drive from home. And it’s only going to get further and further away. Stages 18, 19 and 21 are all just over 10 km, so they’re also doable back and forth in a single day, albeit a long one. Stage 20 I’ve walked already.

It was a very quiet walk. There was no wind and none of the rustling or whispering sounds of wind. No birdsong. No sun, with its brightness and shadows. I met a single other person on the trail. He was running and doing the same as me, back and forth, so he ran past me twice.

The ground was not as muddy as I had feared. In many places, what looked like soggy ground turned out to be still frozen. There were patches of grainy old snow here and there. The small lakes were all fully iced over, but the larger ones had open water.

I heard a black grouse sing. I didn’t know what it was; I don’t think I’ve ever heard one before. I walked closer, hoping to get a look, but it took flight. I got enough of a glimpse to see that it was like a large dark hen, which means it was some kind of grouse. Google and Fågelsång.se helped me figure out which one.

This is the inside of a hollow dead oak.

Mello is Melodifestivalen, a Swedish song competition where the winner gets to represent Sweden in the Eurovision song contest. Ingrid used to be a fan but has outgrown it, while Adrian still cares.

I wouldn’t say I hate it, and in these pandemic times I can’t even say I have better thing to do with my Saturday evenings, but I don’t much enjoy it either. But Adrian really wants company – watching TV on his own is just no fun – so I sit there and knit and follow the competition just enough so I can converse with him.

Today was the finals, which Adrian celebrated a Mello-pink donut. (The previous, less important shows only merited pink Mello smoothies and sometimes just fruit snacks.)