Exhibitions of military equipment were dotted around the garrison area. We spent a couple of hours getting acquainted with all sorts of vehicles and equipment. I learned a whole lot of terminology and interesting facts.

We started out next to the main square, where the A 8 regiment were showing off their stuff. Ingrid’s regiment is the I 19, an arctic armoured and and light infantry regiment (i.e. tanks, and troops on the ground). The A 8, their next-door neighbours, are an artillery regiment (i.e. cannons).

The Archer artillery system, I now know, is valued for being extremely mobile. It can be driven at 90 km/h, then stop, extend supports for stability, aim, fire, pull in the supports again, and be gone again in about a minute.

Next to Archer (and its friend Arthur there were tracked motor vehicles, almost like small mobile huts on treads, which you could actually get inside.

The driver’s seat was neither spacious nor ergonomic.

What it did have was lots of knobs and switches – the way I wish more cars were designed. Seriously, I’m so on board with military design principles. Just like I love the way that the troops all pack their backpacks the exact same way, so that anyone can locate the first-aid kit in anyone’s backpack, and that there are specific, pre-determined ways of expressing direction and distance to prevent confusion and misunderstanding.

To the other side of the main square there were several rows of older tanks. The oldest one was from just after WW2 – still in a driveable state. All of them must be, since they have clearly been driven here for today. Also: the foundation under the asphalt here must be something extra, to support all this weight.

The newest of the old tanks was an S 103 from the 1960s. This one was open, and interested visitors could climb inside, which we of course did.

Across a field, there was all the modern equipment of an armoured unit. Tanks, of course, but also all kinds of interesting special equipment. There’s an armoured recovery vehicle, which is like a giant, armoured version of a tow truck. There’s a whole portable bridge, the Krigsbro 5, which is transportable on trucks and can be put in place in 3 hours.

The S 122 is the newest model of tank in the Swedish army. This one we were not allowed inside of.

We tried out a recoilless rocket launcher simulator, which is supposedly like the real thing, but instead of shooting rockets, it shows you on a screen where the rocket would have hit. We were all very good at aiming.

Of course we also got a chance to see Ingrid’s dormitory, and their (identically organized) lockers.

Fun fact: inside the entrance to the dormitory building, there was a boot care locker. It had all the signs of getting serious use. I knew the soldiers all need to look clean and tidy at all times, which includes well-polished boots, but I had never given any thought to just how that happens.

Happy Birthday to Adrian who is now sixteen. Old enough to get a proper job, if he wants to, and for driving lessons.

I don’t have much practise with fancy cakes, but this one (with a mud cake bottom and a layer of raspberry mousse on top of that) came out better than I had maybe expected. The main challenge was timing: the bottom needed to be made in advance so I finished it yesterday at midnight, and the mousse wanted to spend two hours in the freezer. I’m pleased that it all worked out.

Parent information evening at Adrian’s new school, Norra Real. A school with a long history and pride in its heritage, and a traditional school building from a time when things were built to last. Polished stone floors, sturdy but elegant wooden benches, glass cabinets with trophies and diplomas etc.

The info meeting itself took place in the school’s great hall, with vaulted ceilings, murals, and a full-on pipe organ.

First day of high school (gymnasium) for Adrian. I think I might be more excited about it than he is.

I don’t miss walking Adrian (or Ingrid) to school every day. But I do kind of miss at least going there for the first day of the new year. Well, at least there’s a meeting coming up for all the parents in a few weeks’ time.

We went mushroom-picking! My friend very generously shared her chantarelle spot with us.

We occasionally picked mushrooms in my childhood, but I don’t like most wild mushrooms much. Porcini mushrooms in particular have quite an unpleasant texture, in my opinion.

Chantarelles are different. They actually taste good.

They’re also quite pretty, with their bright yellow colour. Which happens to be exactly the same tone of yellow as fallen birch leaves, which are quite numerous in the forest. When the mushrooms are partially hidden under a layer of moss, they can be tricky to spot.

We got tons of mushrooms between the four of us. More than we can eat today (and Adrian and I are heading back to Sweden tomorrow) so we gave away almost half of our harvest to another friend.

Met up with old friends in the evening. Went shopping during the day – a book store is always part of my Tartu itinerary, and a candy store is on Adrian’s.

I bought a bread book and an origami kit; Adrian found a Marvel graphic novel.

In the candy store, we focus on the chocolate-coated jellies. They seem to be popular – I’m pretty sure there were more flavours than even just a couple of years ago.

In the afternoon we went for a walk along the cycle path that replaced the old narrow-gauge freight railway past the slaughterhouse/meat factory and into the riverside industrial district. Adrian commented that it was an odd placement for a slaughterhouse, in the middle of town, right next to a nursery. That’s the nursery I attended as a child, and you could literally hear the noise of a mass of distressed animals being transported to the slaughterhouse from the yard.

I explained that this used to be right on the edge of town, and that the town has grown past the slaughterhouse. Back when I was a child, the town really ended here – on the other side of the nursery there was just some vacant ground with scruffy vegetation and a few odd low-slung concrete structures that I used to climb around on. (Not when I was nursery-aged but later.)

The meat factory went bankrupt in the late 1990s and was torn down in the 2000s. For some reason, a piece of it (or a connection an adjacent building) is still standing. The nursery is still there.

The meat factory may have been there before the nursery, but it was still an odd choice to put the nursery right there. Here’s an archive photo of the meat factory and the map next to the photo shows just how close to the nursery it was.

Continuing on the theme of taking nice, long breaks from boring work, we went to Spånga Konditori today for ice cream and cake. It’s been a while. The choice of cakes is narrower than it used to be, maybe because it’s summer? But there were plenty of homemade ice cream flavours to choose from.

A much-delayed graduation celebration for Adrian, on the occasion of him finishing 9th grade with great grades, at Waipo. Adrian and Ingrid shared a set menu, while I ate two kinds of dumplings, and Eric had deep-fried prawns with rice and veg.

Five years ago, I was transferring Adrian’s scout badges from an outgrown scout shirt to a new one. Already then I said it would be last time I’d do it for him.

Well, the shirt that was new then has been far to small for a long time. Adrian has been wearing scout t-shirts or hoodies instead. For this year’s summer camp, he wants to have a proper shirt again, and all the badges on it.

He’s been hard at work with the seam ripper to get the badges off the old shirt. There was also a small mountain of badges that he’s earned since then. The total is… impressive. At least fifty.

The amount of work that it would take to sew all these on is truly immense. We’ve concluded that textile glue is the only reasonable way forward.

Adrian is home from school, has lots of free time, and is a tiny bit bored. All his friends are away somewhere – some abroad, some at their summer cottages – so he’s only got me for company. On top of that, he needs to earn money for the World Scout Jamboree he wants to attend next summer. I’ve agreed to pay him for grocery shopping, cooking, and other such chores. As a result, I am living a life of luxury. Well-cooked meals just keep appearing, without me having to lift a finger. I don’t even need to plan them. Case in point: roast tomato and paprika soup, topped with caramelized red onion, served with quesadillas.